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delfiore · 2 months

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—I'LL NEVER WIN YOUR HEART.

pairing: alexia putellas x reader

synopsis: aside from endless hatred and devastating love, you don’t know anything else when it comes to alexia.

word count: 2k

tw: aNGST, spicy stuff, enemies to lovers to ……….?

a/n: wow has it really been a month since i last posted that's insane (i'm not being sarcastic i'm actually so shook at how fast time passes).

now playing:

Her eyebrows narrowed. Her jaw clenched. Her eyes lasered in like a hawk.

Even from across the club, several of your teammates knew to get the hell out of her way when she made a beeline towards you.

Alexia was scary when she was angry. There was an untouchable force to her that made one cower under her steely gaze. You used to feel the effect of it, once upon a time, but recently it was almost a weekly occurrence that she would direct her hardened gaze at you.

And now, as she fixed that deathly glare onto you, you felt your arm being yanked just as you were about to kiss the beautiful stranger you met mere minutes ago.

“What the fuck, Alexia!” Admittedly, you were buzzed, and any obstruction to your enjoyment would irritate you.

“Come with me,” she gritted her teeth.

“No! Let me go!”

She tugged on your arm and dragged you away despite your protests. The bathroom at the back of this club was filthy, and the door barely did anything to block out the thumping music outside, but Alexia pushed you into one of the stalls anyway, caging you in between her arms on either side of your head.

You had half a heart to slap her across the face when she shoved you against the divider and kissed you like a barbarian, lips and teeth clashing against one another in a heated mess. She had no right to do this, but her entitlement made it so you were trapped in her grasp again.

The worst part was that you enjoyed it, very much, especially when she went on her knees to do what she always did best.

It happened not too dissimilar to how it started. Your frustration mixed with her only ensured you both collided in the most spectacular way. You remembered arguing with her after a horrible game, both of you throwing blame at each other. It happened so quickly, that before you knew it, your hatred had turned to lust. Hatefucking, as one might call it. Suddenly, all you could think about each day was how much you hated Alexia and couldn't wait to fall into bed with her.

“You can’t just do that and pretend like nothing happened.”

Your words came out rushed as you were still trying to catch your breath. Alexia exited the stall and went to wash her hands, doing so with a frustrating nonchalance.

She met your gaze in the mirror. “Can’t I?”

You scoffed. “Why do I bother? La Reina never gets off her high horse, does she? You’ve never respected me, ever.”

“That’s not true.” Her eyes flickered, and you thought you could see unspoken words behind them.

“Then what was that earlier?” You asked, irritated.

“I should ask you the same question,” she said firmly. “I thought we were fine. And now I see you grinding on some girl at the club? I mean—what is this, Y/N?”

It was always like that with Alexia, and if she didn’t say what she wanted to say, then you couldn’t help her.

“It’s not like you care,” you gritted your teeth. “I hope you had fun with Olga, by the way.”

Now it was her turn to scoff. “She’s my friend.”

“She was also your ex.”

“Can’t I be friends with my ex? And who are you to tell me who I should and shouldn’t hang out with?”

She was right. You had no place in her life to be telling her that. It was purely your desire, or a lack thereof, to hold a special place in her heart, but maybe you were foolish to wish for it when there has been so much history between you.

You chewed on your bottom lip, a habit you had since you were young. You suddenly felt the bathroom walls closing in on you—you needed to get out of there quickly.

Wordlessly, you shoved past her and returned to the club, the music once again deafening and pumping in your chest. You expelled a breath; the cute stranger was nowhere to be seen, and neither were Patri and Pina, with whom you came. That’s fine, there was an entire nightclub’s worth of people. You would find at least one person who would make you forget how much you despised Alexia and—maybe for the night—how much you loved her.

The story could have gone so differently. You two were similar in age, grew within the ranks of the Spanish youth teams together, then played at Barcelona together. You both played in midfield and younger players looked to you for guidance and leadership. Yet, it was known among your teammates that the two of you couldn’t stand to be in the same room. Ever since you were young, your similar play styles and clashing personalities ensured that you always butt heads on the field, and eventually, off it too. You grew up with this hatred of Alexia, as she did of you, but you could barely remember why. You were brazen and Alexia was cold, and that never worked for either of you.

It seemed she had had enough of your attitude one day, and shoved you so hard in training you thought you might have sprained an ankle. Some of the other girls noticed her distaste for you and started to distance themselves to gain favor with her. Then, Alexia became the best player in Spain, and you were always in her shadow. The media called you her ‘healthy rivalry’, even when you played for the same club. If you didn’t hate her as much as you did, they all ensured that you would never be able to get along ever again.

There was a memory that you buried deep inside, but it would easily surface again on nights like this. It made you question everything you’ve felt for Alexia, this thorn in your side that has never let you know peace

It was the summer of 2012 at a Spain U-19 camp. You had barely gotten any sleep the night before you came because it was your first call-up to represent your country. Alexia, of course, had become a familiar face in the team by the time you arrived. She wasn’t seen at breakfast one morning, and a coach said that she was dealing with personal matters. What you didn’t anticipate was finding her sitting alone by the steps of an entrance bawling her eyes out. You had tried to retreat, but Alexia had looked up before you could go.

“S-Sorry, I’ll just—”

“Mi papá . . .” Her voice was quiet like she didn’t want you to hear. Then, she burst into tears again. You had never seen Alexia like this, so distraught and vulnerable. The friends she liked to keep around were nowhere to be seen either. She never liked to appear weak in front of others.

Against your better judgment, you approached and sat next to her. “What happened?”

Exhaling shakily, she answered. “He was very sick. I just got the call from my mom.”

Your mouth hung open, unable to form words. As Alexia smeared her tears away with the back of her sleeve, she suddenly appeared younger and unlike the captain that you’ve come to know her. She was just a girl, who’d had something terrible happen to her, and you would be the biggest jerk not to push whatever you had between you aside.

“I’m sorry,” you only managed to say.

She said nothing and rested her face on the inside of her elbows.

“I’m sure he was very proud of you.”

“Please don’t say anything,” she breathed out, making you wince.

“Okay.”

Alexia sniffled. “I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Okay,” you nodded slightly. You didn’t like talking about your feelings either. It was the first thing you found Alexia and you had in common.

You started to feel sick. Your head spun like you had just stepped out of a washing machine, but still, you reached for the passing bartender who looked at you with patronizing eyes.

“Another.”

“Y/N, that’s enough.”

You pushed her hand away, mentally cursing at her interruption.

“Fuck off.”

“I’m gonna have to explain to Jona why you’re still shitfaced at training tomorrow.”

“Fuck. Off. I don’t fucking care.”

Then, you heard her say something she had never said to you before. “Please. Let’s go home.”

The truth was, you never wanted to protest her. Maybe the years have softened you, but you didn’t want to admit how much you craved her affection. There were times when you despised her and thought her the lowest form of a human being.

“Please don’t do this,” you pleaded. You felt your heart hammering in your chest, as you watched her frantically spring out of bed.

“I—uh, have to go. I’m meeting someone for lunch.” She replied, reaching for her pants strewn across the floor.

“Ale, I’m sorry . . .” You managed a pathetic whimper, tears threatening to fall. “Can we just pretend I never said anything?”

How is it that she had made you feel so euphoric merely moments later, and now you felt like you had hit rock bottom? Only because those stupid words slipped out of your mouth.

. . . But was it such a crime to tell her that you loved her, when it was your truth?

You learned the hard way that Alexia didn’t want what you wanted. Maybe it was just her, or maybe it was you, and she didn’t want anything to do with you. If that were true, you were foolish to think for even a second that she would. You never gave her much to like anyway.

But still, you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t have any feelings for her. But aside from endless hatred and devastating love, you don’t know anything else when it comes to Alexia.

She had brought you back to your apartment, supporting you by holding you close and guiding you inside gradually.

The moment you hit the mattress, you groaned at the snugness of your own bed. Your eyes were barely open, but you saw the way she pulled your shoes off your feet and coaxed you to sit up so she could shed your outer coat.

But that was it. She was afraid to help you further, as it would resurface emotions Alexia thought should be buried, emotions that reminded her of sleepless nights and passion.

“Why are you so quick to get away from me?” You mumbled into your pillow.

You heard her sigh. “I brought you home, didn’t I?”

“Am I really that detestable that you wouldn’t even look at me?”

Her eyes met yours, but unlike earlier in the night, they now held a softness. “You know I don’t hate you. I never did.”

“Then stay.” You whispered, your head still spinning, but all you could focus on was her. “Stay with me. Please, we won’t do anything. I just don’t want to be alone.”

You didn’t care that you were begging her. You were tired of being pulled from end to end, and it was so much easier to love than to hate her.

You thought she would laugh in your face, pack her things and leave. Yet, when you opened your eyes again, she was lying in bed next to you, under the cover and all. She had changed into your clothes, so much more time had passed than you had thought.

“Go to sleep. We have training tomorrow,” Alexia whispered, her lips brushing your forehead softly.

You obliged, nuzzling your head into her chest as you let the comfort of her embrace lull you to sleep. You were too tired to fight it, to tell her no, that you would talk to her seriously about the two of you, even if you were drunk. It wasn’t the first time you had fallen for Alexia’s lies; all the other times, she left you in the dirt after giving you her everything for you to pick up the pieces yourself.

You hated her because you loved her. But maybe this is enough, you thought before sleep took over, just for tonight.

Maybe tomorrow will be different.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas imagines #alexia putellas angst #alexia putellas #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagines #woso angst #Spotify

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azulock · 6 months

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Shidou, oliver, nagi and sendo when they wake up ( in the middle of the night ) to find s/o quietly weeping?

I love hurt/comfort, sooooo- maybe s/o is crying cuz of insecurities?

Love ur works❤️💋

- 👻anon

Ask got lost cause I'm a mess but I had copied it to work on another file so it's fine. Anyway ghostie, made a slight change to this one cause I'm a hot girl with nightmare problems, like night terrors actually, and the realistic kind of nightmare, it legit has me waking crying and sitting up, very angst. Funny to say that tho cause the days I was writing this I was having nightmares, the universe has a sense of irony.

gn!reader. Oliver (488 words), Sendo (499 words), Shidou (435 words), Nagi (600 words). mentions of nightmares, but no warnings, only fluff

oliver aiku

It was still pitch black in the room when Oliver woke up to the feeling of something pushing against his body. he didn't need to try and focus his eyes to know it was you - he knew well enough that he kept you in a constrictor like embrace while he slept. though, he did squeeze his eyes in a urgent attempt to get used to the darkness the moment he heard your pained hiccups and choked breath.

Gently, he rubs a large hand over your back and shoulder, gruff voice asking you what's wrong. you hesitate to answer, but stop pushing against him and he takes it as a chance to bring you closer in, burying his face in your hair. when you don't respond, only continue crying against his bare chest Oliver already knows the answer - truth is he knew even before he asked.

He'd already seen you have nightmares, already been woken up by the trashing and incoherent, panicked sleep talking. he just never saw you wake up like this, crying, sweating and choking on your own breath. Oliver takes a moment to fully will his body to wake up, softly caressing your head and back while he does. when the gentle touch doesn't work to stop your crying he pulls you onto his lap, pushing away the covers before getting up with you in his arms.

Even in your confused state you are fast to ask him where he is going, arms weakly surrounding his broad shoulders. when he answers, you furrow your brows and stare at him. "a shower?" you mutter back. "yeah, you know I like showering with you," he answers with a yawn, you knew it was true, and not even in a sexual way, for Oliver it was like a bonding activity. "but it's the middle of the night," you protest and he shrugs. "doesn't matter, we gotta wash away those nightmares, love."

The minute the warm water hits his hand he is brought back to a time when he was a child and his mother used the same thing for him, running a shower to wash away whatever plagued his small mind. to this day, the water still felt grounding to him. it took a bit of coaxing but Oliver managed to get you under the shower with him, the warm stream luring you into it's soothing touch. you let him wash your skin and listen to him babble about nothing at all. soon enough you are talking too, and even laughing at his bad singing as he pulls you into dancing with him, head laying on his chest and listening to his steady heartbeat.

"ah, I think we should leave now before my hands turn fully into raisins," you yawn against his chest. "eh, I wouldn't mind that. did the shower help?" he asks, stiffling a yawn of his own. "yeah, you did too. thank you, Oli."

sendo shuto

Waking up in the middle of the night had never been uncommon for Sendo, he was a light sleeper, and he woke often enough that he'd learned to just will himself back to sleep. but this time he couldn't do it, not when he noticed the sound was coming from his own bed. when the quiet whimpering hit his ears again he almost panicked, sitting up and reaching out to you, only to find you quietly crying, face buried in your pillow.

The moment his hand touches your shoulder you startle, apologizing between small sobs for waking him up, tears pooling in your eyes. at the sight, Sendo almost tears up himself, throwing out his own apologies for not waking up before. he holds you close, face resting in your shoulder as he gently asks you what's wrong, hands caressing your skin as he does so. You pause, hiccuping a bit before whispering to him about your nightmare with only a vague description.

He feels his heart sink, hugging you tight as he tries to sush your cries and clean away your tears. though, when he notices it isn't working, he almost panics again, before calming himself down so he can help. you cry into his chest, tears staining his shirt, and he decides staying in bed just won't do you no good. with gentle words and soft touches, Sendo urges you to get up and out of bed with him, hand never leaving yours as he guides you out of the bedroom.

You protest, insisting that he needs the rest, but he responds that he could never rest knowing you were suffering. he leads you both to the kitchen, soft smile never faltering as he offers to make you tea. when you don't reject it, he feels a little better, putting the kettle on the fire as he tries to make a conversation to distract you. soon enough you hear the familiar whistle, and Sendo gets busy with making you both tea.

Giving you both mugs to hold, he moves to pick up whatever sweet snack you got in the fridge and a mantle he kept on the arm of the couch. with everything in hand, Sendo takes you to the balcony of your apartment, sitting down side by side with the mantle over your legs to keep you both warm. You talk and drink the tea, watching the stars scattered on dark sky above the city. it's peaceful, and although it takes a little, that peace starts to seep to you, your tears drying and the smile returning to your face.

It doesn't take long for your head to be dropping on his shoulder, heavy eyes unfocused as you cling to his arm. "thank you, Shuto, it feels safe with you," it's only a whisper, but it's the loudest thing for him at the moment. "you don't need to thank me, love, I'm always here for this," he replies, even though he doesn't think you can hear.

ryusei shidou

Shidou was always something of a deep sleeper, few are the things that can disturb his slumber before it's time for his alarm to ring - an they usually piss him off. not you, though. the minute he realizes what woke him was your crying form, trembling and gasping by his side in the bed, he is fully alert. few are the things that terrify him, but seeing you like that is one of them.

At first, it's confusing, but it's only half a moment before Shidou has his arms wrapped around you tight. it ceases your trembling, and after a couple seconds your breathing is even again, but tears still fall from your eyes. he asks what is the matter, question whispered in your ear as gently as he manages. you respond with a simple "nightmare" voice quiet and shaky. Shidou had heard you mention them before, he just never imagined it was like that.

Whatever, his surprise doesn't matter now, he needs a solution, something to chase whichever nightmare you had away. he thinks for a minute before his mind slips back to the thing you did the first time you came to his house. something you do together almost once a month. it can't be a bad idea - even if the idea is watch old B horror movies.

And when Shidou offers you don't disagree - though, you did spend a second in thought, one that had him surprisingly tense. so he carries you to the couch, covers and all, before throwing some popcorn in the microwave and setting off to pick up the most ridiculous movie he can thing of - Killer Klowns from Outer Space. it's weird, it's trashy, and it's the thing you two watched at a midnight screening on your first date.

With remote control and popcorn in hand he settles with you under the covers, his eyes spending more time on you than on the screen. where you start the movie still tense and misty eyed, you end it yawning between laughs. and it's like a weight was lifted from his shoulders - Shidou knows he is not the best at delicate situations, but at least this time his methods worked. so when you suggest going back to bed, he feels like he can sleep soundly again.

"ain't you afraid of dreaming with killer clowns, tho?" he remarks with a laugh, muffled by how his face rests against your neck. "nah, killer clowns are easy stuff," you chuckle and shake your head. "besides, even if I do, I know I got you there to protect me."

nagi seishiro

For Nagi, waking up in the middle of the night was rare - it was rarer yet for him to not just immediately close his eyes and fall straight into deep sleep again. though, it was a bit hard to do that when he felt something shaking and hiccuping beside him on the bed. he was about to call it a hassle and try to sleep again when his brain finally snapped and made the connection, noticing the absence of your body wrapped around his own. the shaking and hiccuping were you - fuck, you were crying.

Slowly and carefully he turned around, at a loss of what to do when he saw your trembling form under the covers - but he knew he had to do something. with light hands Nagi pulls the covers just enough so he can see your face, his eyes being met with your red and teary ones. you both freeze for a moment before you bury your face back in the pillow, muttering an apology for waking him up, words almost unintelligible between your hiccups - shit, now he feels terrible.

Still at a bit of a loss, Nagi shakes his head, refusing your apology and trying to ask you what happened as he pulls you to him, your back against his chest. your answer is a small whisper and he only barely understands it, but he is left to wonder how terrible a nightmare gotta be to leave you like this. when you keep crying even as he tries to sooth you, Nagi notices there is no way you can go back to sleep like this, so he sits up in bed and pulls you into his lap, kissing the top of your head.

There is not much he thinks he can do, he has never been the best at dealing with peoples emotions. so Nagi does what he'd do for himself and offers to find something to distract you. he snuggles you comfortably between his legs, head resting on your shoulder as you hug a pillow. at first he tries putting some show or cartoon for you to watch on his phone, but that doesn't prove to be enough to stifle your cries and he finds himself back to the drawing board, and having to think of something else.

It takes a minute of Nagi just silently caressing your head before he thinks of something. muttering against your ear, he asks if you'd rather play something with him. when you nod stretches one arm to reach for the nightstand, opening a drawer and pulling out your switch. he finds something cozy but still engaging enough to keep you entertained, and you settle on letting him hit the buttons while you just make the decisions. Nagi can't be sure how much time passes with you nestled between his arms and legs as he holds the console, but his plan works, and the game distracts you. the tears start drying on your cheeks and your breath evens out slowly, and sure as daybreak, a smile lights you face again.

"sei, thank you for doing this for me," you mutter, words cut by a long yawn. "huh? it's not like you got to thank me, tho, I don't mind it. so, what you want me to do no-" Nagi's answer is cut short just as he looks from the console back to you, finding your eyes closed as you'd fallen asleep in his arms. that night, he stays like that, being thankful he can sleep in any position, just so he can keep you safe.

today's tag sponsors: @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife @loser-vxbez

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #oliver aiku x reader #ryusei shido x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #sendo shuto x reader #ryusei shidou x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #nagi seishiro x reader

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greycaelum · 8 months

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Indulgence Collections 🪷: Touch

Satoru has been sporting his hair longer than usual. He's been so busy he never got the time to drop off his barber shop and get his trim.

"What'cha doing pretty?" Satoru hums from the bathroom sink while he shaved his day-old stubbles, keeping his face flawless. He's wearing a cotton short while unbothered going topless displaying his well-defined muscles.

"Nothing much wanna try something after you're done." You held a small bag and plopped down the couch of your bedroom to wait for your beau.

You heard the running water and him rummaging through the cabinets. He finally emerged from the bathroom with a black shirt on that hangs loosely on his body but didn't hide his damn enticing collarbone.

"What did you wanna do?" Satoru climbs onto the bed but you stop him and you open the bag.

"I got you~ this! ta-dah!" You excitedly presented him with a razor you found while strolling around the shopping district.

Satoru took a few human seconds to understand the meaning behind your words.

"Oh?" A wide grin appears on his lips and takes the razor from your hands. "Are you gonna be my personal barber now?"

You shrug and go to the bathroom to spread out some newspaper on the floor and a chair from your dresser for him to sit on.

"You've been complaining about your hair lately, but you don't go to your barber anyway. So you'll have to make do with me."

Satoru leaned on the doorframe and chuckled as you prepared your make-do salon in the bathroom. True, his nape has been itchy with the amount of thick hair brushing his skin when he removes his blindfold. He doesn't know where you got the guts to try this stuff with him moreover he knows you've never done this before. But he didn't stop you when you pulled him to sit on the stool and put a towel around him.

"Woah, woah, don't start with the razor, Baby." Satoru held your wrist and gave you the scissors you got with the razor. "You have to section my hair first. Like this..." He shows you where his undercut starts. "You cut it like, vertically, okay?"

"O-Okay." You nodded and remembered how his barber did it when you went together to get his haircut. "Like this, right? Is it too short?"

Satoru watches your eyes so focused on his hair that it's too cute to look away from the mirror.

"Cut a little longer... Yeah just like that." Satoru chuckled when you almost cut a thick chunk of his hair and your face went pale. "Awww, you have no reward if I come out bald, Baby."

"Shut up, I'm trying my best here." You huffed and finally finished trimming down his hair. "It looks good?" You look in the mirror and can't help but laugh at how he looks like the teenager he was in 2006 it's just that his jaws are now more pronounced and a screaming masculinity exudes from his large build.

"Mnnn, go get the razor Baby, you do it like this..." Satoru shows you how to shade his side cut and gives you the razor. You look so obedient as he teaches you how to do it that he can't help but pinch your nose making you yelp.

"I should just follow the hairline, right?"

"Kind of, you start here then curve it here." Satoru directs your hands while you mimic his hand gestures before nodding. "Scared?"

You shook your head and held the razor. Slowly you shaved the excess hair from his hairline, the artic locks were soft against your hand as they fell down leaving a clean line on his nape. It feels ticklish as you shave the back of his neck making that undercut you love so much more defined now. There's just something about Satoru's undercut that makes it so irresistible to your touch. A few more runs of the razor and you're finished. Brushing off the hair from his neck you stared at his clean undercut intently.

Satoru looked at the mirror and whistled.

"At this rate, I'm never going to my barber again." Satoru ran his finger through his hair, feeling it a lot lighter as he ruffled it to a mess.

Without warning he swept you off your feet and threw you over his shoulder, trudging our of the bathroom to the bedroom.

"Satoru!"

He throws you on the bed and climbs over you, peppering you with ticklish kisses all over your face while you try to shield yourself from the onslaught. Instinctively your hands wrap around his neck making contact with his fresh undercut, tickling your palm. Satoru groaned in pleasure when you ran your fingers up to his neck and down to his spine.

"That feels so good, Baby." He purred, drowning you in his weight with his face pressed between your chest. "Do it again, pleaseee~" He mumbled and wrapped an arm around your waist. "My head feels so light."

He didn't have to tell you twice as you ran your hand over and over until his breathing gradually slowed down.

"Y'know... 'm glad you cut my hair." Satoru opened one eye and looked up at you.

"Why?" You hummed and kissed the tip of his nose making Satoru purr.

"I feel safe when it's you holding my head."

Your eyes softened and nodded. You understand how vulnerable he is regarding his neck up to his head.

"Don't worry that pretty little head of yours and sleep. We got the whole day for ourselves."

Satoru smiles and nuzzles his face even deeper into the valley of your chest and sighs in relief as your fingers thread through his hair, lulling him to a peaceful slumber. The sweet gentle way you tug on the roots of his hair and the scrape of your fingernails against his scalp is the kind of friction his body longs to feel all the time.

"Never let me go, Baby, please..." He murmured between his dreams and your touch.

[@lexiene] happiest birthday dearrrr sunshine~🪷 I hope you like this small gift I prepared~✨🫶🏻

General Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld @loml-riri @pelicanpizza @emichou-chan

—Grey,

#[grey writes: indulgence collections🪷]#[grey writes: happiest birthday to my sunshineeee]#[grey writes: coping with 236]#gojo satoru #jkk gojo fluff #jjk gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #greycaelum #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru fanfic #jjk fluff

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onlyseokmins · 1 year

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bereal • k.m.g.

Pairing: kim mingyu x fem!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), established relationship!au, taking pics during sex!au Warnings: reader uses she/her pronouns and is referred to as a girl, consensual pictures during sex that are shared to friends lol, swearing, degradation, objectification (tiny), a lot of oral (m. receiving), rope play (reader is tied up), marking, tiny use of toys, teasing, edging (m. &f. receiving), prolly oral fixation tbh, mentions of fingering (f. receiving), mentions of overstim, me thinking I'm funny again as usual, and like "you better cum fast" kinda thing fjkdsj um pls lmk if i missed smth WC: 2.5k A/N: helloooo I had no idea what BeReal was so this was a bit of an experience 😬 would just like to thank @/princessbetsy123-blog for their patience and understanding, I hope I did well haha also omg tumblr user onlyseokmins is writing non-sub gyu? show-stopping (derogatory) also huge thank you to @a1sh1teruu for the mingyu pic! ❤️ @princessbetsy123-blog asked: can you do any member where his BEREAL goes off during sex and their friends react? The reader has hickies all over her chest and neck and is tied up?

Ding!

⚠️ Time to BeReal. ⚠️

• 2 min left to capture a BeReal and see what your friends are up to! •

"Would you look at that, baby? What perfect timing, d'ya wanna show everyone how pretty you look?"

Your butt rests gingerly against the back of your ankles, wrists bound together behind your back. The soft ropes limiting your arm movements match the ones winding across your body that Mingyu spent over half of the afternoon tying, untying, and tying again with his large-ass fingers until he was satisfied after reading detailed instructions from Minghao.

Finally able to perfect the multi-colored knots and ties that looked absolutely lecherous yet stunning across your naked body, rubbing and squeezing all the right places. It doesn't matter whether you remain still like the obedient slut you are or wriggle and writhe in anticipation of what the man's going to do next to thrillingly torture you, you felt their restriction.

"Yeah, Gyu."

"The prettiest," he murmurs, thumb slipping under the ropes that accentuate your breasts. Your posture is helpfully corrected and uplifts your chest in a flattering manner so he can nip and suck as he likes without you wiggling away.

You mewl at the binds tightening, arching your back as much as you can while he traces patterns connected by the harsh love bites you can feel littered across your skin that he'd left earlier.

Your body aches pleasantly all over. Having been edged for hours by now, it was well into the evening after a combination of intense, loving foreplay and the still-buzzing vibrator abandoned on the bed sheets from the distracting notification chime of his phone instead. You lean into his tickling touch as it slides up your neck, following more bites that scream "Mine!" all over.

"Mine," he confirms aloud with a whisper. "Will you let me show them how true that fact is?"

"Only… only if you let me cum."

Your eyes close as he holds your cheek tenderly and aims the phone's camera lens. A sheen of arousal sticks to your thighs and no doubt ruined the ties around them with how much of a mess he's created out of you.

"Of course, love. I'd be an incompetent fool if I didn't and couldn't make such a pretty thing like you cum at least once."

He should've thought of that earlier, is what you want to snark back but you're too desperate to give him any attitude for his blabberings. He would never deny you anything for too long anyways.

Though you take the opportunity to bite lightly on the knuckle of the finger that somehow pushes past your lips, grazing your upper teeth down until right before his nail bed begins, opting to suckle at the tip instead. Swirling it around languidly and sloppily, saliva coating every inch of his finger to soothe the stinging indentation marks you feel out with your tongue.

"Dirty girl."

"Mhm, but I'm your dirty girl."

"Damn right you are."

He knows what you're playing at, what you're trying to prove. The vixen-like gleam behind those fluttering eyelashes as you dare to smirk — releasing his finger with a sickening pop that his cock wishes was it instead.

But he manages to hold back, intent on finishing his own little game before he fucks you stupid so you can't continue to tease him like this.

"One minute left. What position do you think would look best? There are too many to decide from."

Ever the photographer, Mingyu groans because he's utterly turned on (and continues to lose his mind over how good you look) but also due to frustration (again, over how perfect you are from every angle) for you as his muse sources an ever-flowing spring of inspiration. A blessing and a curse.

He's moving back and forth across the mattress, unintentionally jostling your tied-up form with his large body. You dumbly choke out "dick" when he nearly falls into you with the usual Mingyu-clumsiness you know and love. Luckily he possesses the brain cell at the moment to connect the dots between his covered crotch nearly shoved right into your face versus you actually insulting him.

"Baby wants my dick?"

You nod fervently, wishing you could reach your hands out and grab it. Instead, you opt to open your mouth as wide as you've memorized the impressive width of his cock, tongue lolling out as well for the heavy weight of it.

Mingyu full on moans — loudly — at your frenzied eagerness. Watching hungrily as your lower body shifts and your thighs squeeze together, skin straining against the tightened constraints of the rope. Evidence of how much you want him shows all of your body. From your lidded gaze to your puffy, neglected clit he can just imagine prettily between your legs — and it makes his chest swell in pride.

He's quick to shed his boxers and absolutely cannot resist a little love slap to your cheek with his throbbing, aching dick. Smugly painting your cheek with a shiny smear of precum and tapping your awaiting tongue teasingly, not letting your lips wrap around him.

Yet.

The timer is set and so is Mingyu's mind.

But yours is as well.

"Damn it, thirty seconds and I can't decide what's best."

You watch in mild irritation at the way he holds his dick with a frown of renewed concentration, bringing it in and out of the frame of his phone lenses. It's like he's teasing you again but this time not on purpose, the leaking head of his cock bobbing closer and then away from you.

While you normally admire his talents at getting perfect, incredible shots on the first take, the purpose of BeReal was authentic pictures within the randomly selected global, two-minute time slot. Mingyu's pride was always on the line for some reason (probably a stupid bet between the boys). Only one snapshot and never a second late but at this point, all you cared about and wanted was some action.

You're aware of how turned on he already is, watching the occasional veined palm rubbing against the growing bulge in his boxers. Stroking at it in the same motions as the vibrator he'd teased you with. A new set-up like this excited him (and you), evident by the dark wet stain where the tip of his cock strains against the fabric of his underwear.

So, when he draws closer again, you lunge forward almost losing your balance but that just works to your advantage as you practically swallow and then choke around his goshdarn dick. Incredibly adept from tons and tons of practice, size training, and testing with his large package pays off, working to your advantage without an insane amount of prep work.

Mingyu lets out a hiss, a crazed look of insanity mixed with lust, affection, and wonder swimming in his narrowed eyes. He runs his hands through the sweaty black bangs strewn across his forehead, meeting your pleading tear-filled gaze with a huff.

"What, does my baby think she can make me cum quick enough?"

You answer him with your actions, rather than wasting words because your mouth is stuffed full of cock anyways. Though it doesn't stop the filthy gags as you take him boldly down the throat, bobbing and nodding your head in what end up looking like successive 'yes' motions, intent on pushing him over that edge.

"Yeah, just like the pretty whore she is."

And as Mingyu's pretty little whore, you know exactly what makes him tick — or cum, for that matter.

Stilling your head and swallowing around him several times before you have to back off for air. Not leaving him unattended for too long, you start nuzzling the underside of his cock as you catch your breath. Licking between his balls and mouthing each one with some special attention to make up for the lacking use of your hands. Following the prominent vein that leads all the way up to his swollen tip, collecting salty excesses of precum with a promised swirl of your tongue.

Rinse and repeat.

You make a point to meet his gaze every time his eyes flutter open with the most babygirlism look you can attempt with a cock in your mouth. Not that it's too difficult to achieve with how much you want him to give into you.

"Desperate little slut, you want me to feed you my cum, don'tcha?"

Despite his words, Mingyu's already shaking after only three smooth rounds of your perfect little mouth routine. Teasing, tiny variations and switch-ups to keep him guessing with that one brain cell that's deteriorating. His resolve, especially when it comes to you, is terribly weak and crumbling by the nanosecond. It doesn't matter how defined his six-pack is as it ripples with each shuddering intake of air he breathes in or those toned arms that twitch, bulging and flexing as he tries not to break the phone in one hand or rip out strands of hair with the other.

Even his thighs are trembling like a newborn lamb. Oh, how you wish you could place your hands against them but watching the muscles ripple in front of your eyes is rewarding enough. Although, your neglected pussy aches and you can't help but lightly grind against the back of your own shins searching for some semblance of relief.

And when he takes notice of what you're doing, that alone is enough to tip Mingyu over the edge. You know it before he does.

"Gonna… god, gonna give it to you, pretty baby. Fill up that dirty mouth of yours."

The low and guttural moan of pleasure turns into a pathetic whine full of frustration because you completely abandon his cock. Leaning back and away, you watch with thirstful glee at the way it bobs up and down, a shining mess from precum and your spit.

But little spurts of white pool out of his tip, a painfully slow and almost stilted release because of the sudden departure of your warm mouth. He growls your name and swears when all you do is lick your lips with a smirk like a cat that was asked if it ate the missing canary.

"Revenge," you manage to croak out with a sore throat.

"Revenge, my ass."

Mingyu can't complain all that much given what tortures he'd put you through earlier but that doesn't hide the cute little frowning pout on his handsome face. He has enough wherewithal to re-aim his phone with his thumb poised over the shutter-release button. Predicting what you want as you lean in once more, tongue hanging back out as you bat your eyelashes up at the camera and incidentally — at him.

He can't help but curse you out a bit like you always do at him when the situation was switched. Muttering the filthiest, most derogatory rambles that have the empty walls of your cunt fluttering as he furiously rubs his aching cock with a large hand that barely diminishes either's size.

Finally, the successive ropes of white you've been waiting for spurt out, painting your face and landing on your tongue just as you like it. And you grin salaciously at the click of the lenses capturing the depraved image. Not just of you tied up on your knees, hands behind your back, lips swollen, and pretty face covered in splatters of white but the front camera catches Mingyu — albeit, pretty blurrily — throwing his head back and biting his lip as he cums.

And within seconds of the timer running out, he presses 'post'. Tossing the phone on the bed and pushing you down, the side of your body hits the bouncy mattress at the same time the inanimate object does. Mingyu easily loosens the ties and knots with a surprising amount of vigor despite his harsh panting, a wild look in his eyes. The vibrator that's still buzzing is increased one intensity level and you shudder in anticipation.

"You were saying something about revenge?" he questions with snark, lifting your thigh with his free hand, the toy coming closer to your dripping center — far away enough that it's not even close to touching you and yet you can still feel the powerful vibrations at a distance buzzing through the airwaves. "Where's that cute confidence now? Just opening your legs like the desperate whore you always are, hm?"

He spends the rest of his time working you consistently up to that precipice before dropping you like an elevator without its wires, unable to crash over that peak of pleasure. As if he hadn't done it earlier.

Again and again, with his fingers and that stupid vibrator until his cock has sprung back to life (in reality, isn't too long and yet it feels like forever). And then you're screaming, creaming, squirting, crying, and cumming over and over. Making a complete mess as he pounds your poor weeping pussy until you nearly black out, the both of you ignoring (or not even noticing) the hundreds of notifications lighting up Mingyu's phone.

*the8thwonder used RealMoji, :hao_disgusted:*

cherrycheol: well damn wish i could take back the time i just spent wondering what was keeping him from being the first to post 🤦

> gam3rbo1: u know gyu will do it w/o fail

> joshuahhhhhh: leave it to him to not miss a moment no matter what he's up to 🥴

*tangerineboos used RealMoji, :mingyu_is_loser:*

tangerineboos: can i report them??

> tangerineboos: their account IS private right?

> jeonghangel: why report she's pretty 🥵💦

> jeonghangel: altho i'd prefer NOT to see gyu's nutting face

> jeonghangel: THAT'S reportable 😒

> gam3rbo1: gyu might hit u jeonghan

> jeonghangel: 🤷 im into that

> tangerineboos: 🤢🤕 i'd prefer not to see at all

> black3y3: i could help u w/that 👍

> black3y3: isn't that how his gf's acct got banned

> dinostar: yes i reported her bc i thought her acct got hacked

> dinostar: turns out they just wanted to share their porn but forgot they were public 😃

*w00z1 used RealMoji, :jihoon_disapproves_15:*

realtiger: i thought pussies were banned

> junhehe: technically no pussy is seen

> realtiger: 🧐 SORRY i wasn't looking that close

> tangerineboos: does hoshi even know where or what the pussy is 😂🫵

> realtiger: yeah man there's 1 in wonwoo's moment as usual 🙄💀

> gam3rbo1: pls don't bring matilda into this her fur is too shiny for ur greasiness

> junhehe: 🫰 matilda deserves the world

> gam3rbo1: dni if ur not a matilda stan or jun ❌

> tangerineboos: yeah geez hoshi if miss tilda is a pussy wouldn't that make you one too 🤡🫵

> gam3rbo1: 🤨 i just said dni

> realtiger: lies and false slander i'm a tiger

> tangeringeboos: 🥊exactly. ur a pussy lolol

> realtiger: brb gonna go fight boo 👊

cherrycheol: ^ they won't be missed

> gam3rbo1: ditto

> joshuahhhhhh: at least seok hasn't posted or my eardrums would be bleeding

> dk21897: ummmmmmmmmmmmmm

> gam3rbo1: ope

> jeonghangel: speak of the devil and he shall appear

> joshuahhhhhh: 😮‍💨 no somehow the pizza he quick ubered just arrived

> dk21897: 😭😭😭😭😭😭 it was late so I had to wait!

> junhehe: isn't bereal supposed to be authentic??????????????????

> dk21897: why are you judging me when gyu is tying up his gf

> dk21897: shoot i can't @ her acct

> dk21897: BLINK TWICE IF U NEED HELP

> joshuahhhhhh: these noise canceling earbuds work wonders 10/10 rec

> jeonghangel: im sure she's just fine 🥴

> dk21897: TMI

> jeonghangel: 🤷 u asked

By the time the boys have worked out their back-and-forth commentaries, you're laying in Mingyu's arms as he scrolls, occasionally showing you what they've said. Half-asleep, you snort, "Should we thank Hao for the help?"

"I mean we could, but he'll deny it all."

He does, of course, since it's a public announcement — and criticizes how Mingyu had tied the knots from what he can see. But he kindly sends a new resource PDF the next day, a sarcastic warning attached to keep such things private if the two of you don't want to be judged on your technique.

onlyseokmins: March 2023 ©

#ez.creates #kim mingyu smut #mingyu smut #svt smut #svthub #seventeen smut #smut #kpop smut #1k 🌟#svt.smut

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kookslastbutton · 8 months

Text

enamored ༓ myg (m) | one

✑ Summary: Min Yoongi is nothing like what you imagined him to be when you saw him preform at the local cafe in town. Yet little by little he surprises you with his true self, until somehow you find yourself completely enamored with him.

pairing: new independent artist!yoongi x veterinarian!reader

genre/AU: fluff, angst, eventual smut, strangers2acquaintance2lovers, mini-series

word count: 4,643

Warnings: Nothing too heavy but oc is around 25, mention of unhealthy past relationships, yoon is a struggling artist, talk about social insecurity, cats, the rest of the fluff stuff is for you to find out haha

now playing: cold/mess

a/n: Due to me and my fellow Yoon enthusiasts missing myg, I bring us this three-part mini-series. I'm not sure how this will go but hope you enjoy! 🥰 Lowkey has me thinking of Yoongi pre-debut days.

Tonight’s the first night the local coffeehouse you and your friend, Nara, visit for weekly rant sessions is showcasing musicians of all backgrounds, statuses, and genres. And you are very much looking forward to the absolute cutie pictured in a fluffy sky-blue cardigan, a big gummy smile on, and undeniably soft, chocolate eyes.

His arms casually rest atop his guitar followed by the words ‘Agustd’ in scripted font underneath. You’ve never heard of him before but you’re convinced that he’ll play something light and uplifting given the aesthetic of his image displayed on the TV screen.

“God it’s packed like a football stadium here,” Nara interrupts your gaze on the tv from across the table. She sits with her hands folded on the wooden surface, a giant diamond sparkling on her left hand.

“You’re telling me,” you tsk. “I already came close to bumping into a middle-aged man with two lattes in his hands and a couple of college girls attempting to film a TikTok on our way in.”

It’s no exaggeration to say the cafe itself is swarming with new faces who are eager for a night of leisure while overworked baristas rush to fulfill orders. You have the innate instinct to offer them your help, though they’d likely advise it’s better for you to remain seated.

“Have you ever been to a football stadium though?” You ask more condescendingly than intended, but you find her analogy amusing since she’s never been one to pay attention to sports.

Nara rolls her eyes at your light probing. “No, but I’ve seen pictures. You know how big of a fan my Yunjun is of football. He’s gone to the United States to watch the super bowl eight times now.”

She says it proudly, but the reality is that her lovey Yunjun has not once invited her to go with him. Instead, he takes three of his closest friends and disappears to the other side of the world for two weeks. Everyone knows the super bowl only lasts one day so why the hell is he there for that long? Likely to get drunk with his buddies, that’s why.

“You know I don’t like him,” you say bluntly. “Why are you marrying him again?” Nara’s confident smile turns into a defensive scowl as she proceeds to tell you, once again, all the ways that Yunjun “completes her”.

On and on she continues for ten minutes straight until her voice slowly drowns out to the clapping and cheering of the crowd behind her. A young woman named Yuri just finished performing a few of her original songs and is thanking the audience for listening. You lightly clap along in politeness.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Nara pipes up once the crowd falls silent again. “Yunjun is extremely thoughtful. Yesterday he messaged me to meet for lunch without me having to ask first.”

“Uh huh…” you drawl out, eyes shifting between her and the distracting movements of bodies behind her. The young woman who just performed steps off the stage while a young man steps forward to take her place.

You struggle to keep eye contact with Nara as said man lazily slumps himself on the wooden stool at the front of the room and balances his acoustic guitar on his knee. He looks like he just rolled out of bed ten minutes ago; hair tousled about, a big black sweatshirt covering half his body, and possibly the most somber facial expression on.

Is that the same guy from the promo image? Agust something?

You lean your head to the side and past Nara’s head to get a better view.

It is him but he looks so starkly different from his photo on the TV screen. His mood is much more melancholy than you imagined, like Grumpy Bear from Care Bears.

It makes you wild with curiosity.

You find yourself placing a hand under your chin, intent on listening to his every word. By now, Nara's noticed your interest in the musician so she's stopped talking and pays attention to him as well.

“Hi, I’m Agustd and I'm an independent artist,” he introduces himself in a low voice, lips pressed to the microphone. His focus is set on the audience in front of him at first but then, as if feeling your heavy stare, he flicks his eyes directly into yours. "I'm also known as Min Yoongi."

You feel your stomach flutter at the gesture which only seems to grow in intensity when he doesn't bother to remove his gaze from you.

He can't actually be looking at you, right?

"I'm starting off with a song I wrote a few years ago titled Seesaw," he continues. "I wrote it while going through, what I thought was at the time, a hopeless period of my life. Please enjoy." And with that he begins strumming on the chords of his guitar, eyes slowly closing to immerse himself in the beautiful music.

Everyone is on the edge of their seats as much as you when he leans further into the mic, lips gently parting.

"In the beginning, well, it was fun

Just going up and down itself

Before we knew, we both became sick of

meaningless waste of emotions

A repeated seesaw, seesaw game

Having come this far, I got sick of, got sick of it

A repeated seesaw, seesaw game

We’re both got tired and became sick of it..."

As Yoongi continues to preform with closed eyes and breathy voice, you take in the rawness of his lyrics. Seesaw tells about relationship that's grown draining; that the weight of staying in something so tiring should come to an end sooner rather than later.

It resonates with you deeply as you've experienced first-hand the challenges of staying in a bottomless relationship. You didn't want to acknowledge it at the time, but you put in all the effort when you and your ex were together. And though it was three years ago since your break up, the constant feeling of exhaustion and being less than haunts you every night.

The vibrations in Yoongi's voice echoing off the mic tells you he's been through similar pain. So much so that it thrums in your own chest and you realize how wrong you'd been to think he'd compose a lighthearted song.

"How crafty the heart of a person is

Though we know one will get hurt if the other is not there,

because we both don’t want to be the bad guy,

we continue to awkwardly pass the buck, umm umm

and end up becoming exhausted, ironically reaching the paralleled balance

Ay, this is not the kind of balance that I wanted..."

With every line, you notice Yoongi's delicate fingers struggling to hold down each chord. It's clear that he's thinking about whoever this song is about in this very moment. Nevertheless, he presses on with a fervent spirit until the end.

You and a handful of people are the only ones who clap when the last line of Seesaw is sung. The rest of the audience is oddly reluctant to applaud and your best guess is that they weren't expecting to hear something so profoundly reflective. The musicians before him had been far more upbeat so to speak.

"Thank you," Yoongi mutters with hesitance. He scans the mute crowd who seemingly cause the air to grow thicker by exchanging awkward glances with one another.

Without another word, Yoongi surprises everyone by standing up from his stool and walking over to the seat he was sitting in before coming on stage. He picks up a few loose papers, and his keys, and zips his guitar into its case before heading for the exit.

"Didn't he have more songs to play?" Nara turns to you with a frown on her face, puzzled at the turn of events.

"I thought so too," you reply, fingers restless as you watch him leave the cafe. "You know what...I'll be right back." You're unsure what prompts you to follow him out other than your unsettled conscience telling you that this isn't the first time he's gotten this type of response and that he deserves better.

"Excuse me, Agustd? Or Yoongi?" You're sure he can hear your voice call to him as he opens the rear door of his beater car. His head whips in your direction immediately.

"Yeah?" He answers simply yet when he sees the white of your eyes, he does a double take; stunned that the only person he cared to recognize the whole night followed him out.

Typically with small gigs like this Yoongj doesn't take much note of the crowd unless they're booing him off the stage. And even then he plays it off. But somehow, your relaxed gaze soothed him, so he remembers you—he remembers the way you made him feel.

"I just wanted to say you sounded good. Better than good actually," you correct yourself, words sputtering out a little too fast. "Seesaw is amazing and you're a genius to have written it."

Your hands get clammier as you approach him. You hope this doesn't sound dumb but something in you won't let him leave without giving him at least a shred of honest encouragement.

The corner of Yoongi's mouth barely quirks up before it quickly falls back down. He sets his guitar in the back seat of his car, then shuts the door and gives you a nod. "Thanks but you don't have to say that."

He moves to the driver's door and reaches to grip the handle but out of nowhere, you stop him by placing a hand over his wrist.

"I mean it," you assure him.

Yoongi doesn't move a muscle as he glances between your hand around his wrist and your seemingly oblivious face. For three seconds you stare at each other with intense eyes, wordless as you take in each other's micro-expressions.

Through the physical contact, you can both feel the rapid beating of each other's hearts but you're unsure if it's simply nerves from an embarrassing situation or something else entirely.

"Sorry." You finally come to your senses and retract your fingers. "I just wanted to tell you that I connected with the lyrics of your song. Not everyone does and that's okay but it really is amazing Yoongi. So don't pay attention to those rude people in there okay?"

At this, Yoongi's expressions soften and a timid smile forms on his plushy lips. He runs a hand through his messy hair, smoothing down some of the loose strands sticking up.

"I appreciate you coming out to tell me this...wait what's your name?"

"__."

"__. Anyway, I'm glad you enjoyed my music but don't worry, I don't take it personally when people dislike my songs. It just means it wasn't for them." He shrugs carelessly but there's a hidden sorrow laced in his tone. He holds his chin high yes, but his heart is so deep in his chest.

"Hey," you start. "If I was a music manager I'd sign you on immediately. You don't happen to have that song recorded do you? Uploaded to music platforms or anything?"

"Yeah, I just put it on Spotify actually. I also have some CDs." Yoongi pauses and wets his lips. "If you're interested," he finishes with slightly averted eyes.

"Call me old fashioned but could I get one of those?"

"What?" He taken aback by your response.

"A cd. You said you have one?"

"Uh sure, yeah just a second." He walks to the trunk of his car, opens the lid, and rummages around until he pulls forward a small cardboard box. "I don't have great packaging yet but here's one." Yoongi holds out a plain white sleeve with a disk inside. "Hope you don't mind but I signed my name on it. Thought it would make it personal or something."

You take the disk from his hand and cheese at him. "Wow, I can't believe I'm getting an autographed version right off the bat. How much?"

Yoongi shakes his head. "You can have it."

"No, really how much?" Taking this man's cd without paying him a dime does not sit well with you. Regardless, Yoongi continues to insist.

"It's on me. Maybe when I get to the point where I can have concerts you'll come." He jokes but you remain serious, digging into your pocket for your wallet. You take 26000 won out ($20) and shove it in his hand. "Hey wait!" Yoongi calls after you when you quickly start backing away from him.

"No takebacks!" You holler. "I'm sorry to leave so suddenly but my friend's waiting for me inside. It was nice meeting you Yoongi and I look forward to when you become a raging success. Until then, I'll be streaming your songs on Spotify! Treat yourself to something nice alright?"

He steps forward, mouth falling open as if to say something but nothing comes out. Your face is already turned away from him as he watches you trot back to the cafe'. He rolls the cash in his hand and stuffs it in his back pocket, hoping that maybe he'll cross paths with you again.

A week passes and you've not forgotten your interaction with Min Yoongi. You wish you hadn't run away like you did but it's true that Nara was waiting for you inside. Any longer and she would have sent a search party for you–she's on the extreme end.

Plus, you didn't want him giving the money back to you. It was a noble gesture to hand it over to you for free but it wasn't necessary. Yoongi is an independent artist who's working to establish himself in the music industry and you were more than willing to pay for good music.

You're currently sitting in your car, replaying the affair in your head for the umpteenth time while you wait for your pizza to be ready. You were told you'd get a text notification though it's taking longer than usual, given how much louder the growling of your stomach has gotten.

Finding new ways to distract yourself gets more challenging with each passing minute. You open the glove department of your car and pull out Yoongi's cd, admiring the beautiful signature marked in black ink on the disk.

Seesaw - Agustd 2018

It's crazy of you but you kind of miss him. Yoongi wasn't like anything you expected him to be, so deep and grounded while at the same time warm-hearted. He was incredibly handsome too. And when you touched his arm, eyes piercing into his, it was like you were being magnetically pulled to him.

Is that possible though? Sharing a magnetic force with practically a stranger?

Your contemplation is interrupted when the sound of your phone notification rings off. Finally, your order's ready. You toss the cd back into the glove box and head inside the pizza shop.

"Hi, welcome to Little Slice of Heaven," the young lady at the counter greets you with a cheery smile. "How can I help you?"

"I have an order for __." You open your wallet and hand over your credit card. She takes it from you speedier than you like, ringing it up then returning it to you with a paper receipt.

"I'll go grab it for you." She swiftly turns around, nearly bumping into one of her coworkers. "Shit sorry!" The person gives a small grunt in response before mumbling an 'its fine, I got it'.

"Order for __."

You stash the receipt in your pocket, then look up to take the boxes of steaming hot pizza. "Yes, thank you so m–," You freeze at once at the familiar face in the iconic navy blue Little Slice of Heaven uniform.

"Yoongi?" He seems to be just as motionless as you when you say his name. "I didn't know..."

"I just started," he answers shortly. "It's uh, good to see you again. How have you been?"

"Oh you know, still alive. Pizza helps me." You chuckle to help break the ice. Yoongi doesn't laugh but you do catch his eyes softening the smallest bit. "What about you? How have you been?"

"Good. Music's good too." He runs a hand through his hair, a habit you're beginning to pick up from him. "I–sorry I must sound like an idiot. I didn't expect to see anyone I knew here tonight."

"You don't sound like an idiot. You said you just started working here right?"

He nods.

"Yoongi!" An older man with a navy blue visor on his head calls from one of the pizza ovens in the back. "I need you to deliver this to the lovely couple sitting at table 8. Times ticking!"

Yoongi looks at the man, then at you. He knows what he needs to do except the thought of letting you leave after getting the rare chance to see you again causes him to linger in place.

"It's okay," you try to ease him, despite also feeling conflicted to leave. "You're working. I come here often so I'll see you around." You're only able to take two steps before the same voice hollers to you.

"Wait, __. What are you doing tomorrow at 6?"

"It's Saturday so, probably watching re-runs of Friends. Why?"

For the first time, Yoongi lets out a hearty laugh and you're instantly reminded of his photo from the cafe last week; the one of him in the sky-blue cardigan with his guitar. His expression exudes the same joyful aura as if his two personas suddenly merge as one.

"I love Friends," he says. "The whole Ross and Rachel thing is driving me mad though, like why won't they–"

"Yoongi the food needs to go now!" His coworker yells at him again, wiping his sweat fro his brow. "Tell your girlfriend or whoever that is that you have work to do!"

"She's not my girlfriend!" Yoongi responds with rosy cheeks. "Sorry, I gotta get back to it. I know Friends is tough to compete with but do you think you'd have an hour to spare? We could–I could get a pizza for us to split. Already got your order down." He gives a lopsided grin as he jokes lightly.

"Okay." You break into a smile. "I wouldn't dream of passing up my comfort food." You sound calm but the back of your mind reels with uncertainty. Is he asking you out or is it the so-called "hang out", sometimes masked as a pre-date?

He reaches for the pad of paper on the counter next to him, scribbles something down, and tears it off to give it to you. "Here's my number. Feel free to text me if anything changes. No pressure though."

Once you take the paper from him, he disappears into the back of the kitchen before you can get another word out. Min Yoongi, you hum silently, timid yet takes initiative. Cute.

You decide it's better to see Yoongi's proposal as a hang out rather than a date. It's not like he came out and said, "do you want to go out" or anything. So at 6 pm on the dot, you agree to meet him at Little Slice of Heaven. As promised, he brings a pizza for you to share.

He's already changed out of his work clothes by the time you arrive; sporting a white t-shirt, jeans, and a thin chain necklace. The basic look works on him.

"So I didn't get to ask you yesterday," you start, turning to Yoongi who sits on the swivel stool next to you. "How do you like it here and what made you come?"

He shrugs and places a slice of pizza on his paper plate. "Pays the bills. I was working as a waiter down on main street a few months ago. I chose to leave that place due to poor management and...I lack social skills, evidently."

"Come on, you do not." You refuse to believe it. "Anytime we've talked it's been pleasant so any naysayers probably don't even know what side's up."

Yoongi snorts in amusement. "We've only had two conversations __." He says it flatly yet it doesn't keep your cheeks from feeling flushed, warmth blooming in the pit of your belly. Your name sounds different from his lips this time.

"You're right, and both times you've shown great social skills."

"I think you're stretching it a little. As I recall I was a bit more reserved with you than usual. Must have been awkward for you."

"Not in the slightest," you deny. "There's nothing awkward about being reserved. In fact, sometimes it's better and it typically means you're a better listener than most. And if you were so awful, you wouldn't be working here right? This is food service too."

"Thanks for saying that." He glances down at his hands in his lap, unsure of how much you're saying rings true, then looks back up at you. "I don't need to talk with people as much as I do a server though. It's more like I hand them their pizza and wish them a good life."

"Well, I guess you make a point there. But trust me Yoongi, you don't lack social skills. Can I ask you something though? Weirdly off-topic."

"Shoot."

"It's about your photo from the cafe last week. It showed you in a blue cardigan with a smile on your face except when you came in to play that day..."

An unexpected grin forms on his face as he finishes your sentence. "I looked like I hated my life or something right? Or like Grumpy Bear from that kiddy cartoon, Caring Bears.

"Care Bears."

"Right, Care Bears." He chuckles lightly. "The music I tend to write shows my raw feelings and experiences. A song like Seesaw, as you've heard, is no exception, but I don't think my overall theme has to be dark as well. The image you saw shows the current version of me, the one who's liberated from those past experiences."

"That's extremely meaningful, Yoongi."

"As far as why I showed up in a giant black sweatshirt, it's because I wanted to dress comfortably. I always get a little nervous performing in front of a live audience so it helps. Especially since I'm only a new artist without a label supporting me. I was also a little sleepy from mixing beats the night before too, I won't lie."

"That makes so much sense. How long have you been making music for?"

"Since a teenager. Like thirteen."

"Seriously?" You nearly fall off your chair. Yoongi is a born genius it seems.

"Yeah. I never pursued being an independent artist until now. Resources and connections were pretty grim for me. Since becoming an adult I've made some progress. Still working to get my name out there though."

"I understand." You nod along. "Being an independent artist, you must have to do a lot to gain exposure. Have you considered uploading videos of yourself playing your songs on social media?"

"I've done some and they've been good. I'm actually trying to send my songs to a few record labels but I haven't heard back from any yet. It's been a good six months so I don't know. There's still one that I'm holding out hope for. I only sent my music to them a week ago."

"That's a shame they didn't contact you. Just means they missed out on Agustd which they will, without a doubt, be regretting later. Do you have an estimate on when the newest label will reach out to you?"

"No clue. They say it takes anywhere from a week to three months. By the way," he pauses. "I have to ask. Do you really like my music? I don't mean that rudely or anything."

"Hell yeah, I like it! You're honestly insanely talented and love it actually."

"God," Yoongi fakes an eye roll. "Don't tell me you're my first groupie."

You both share a laugh that can only be described as natural.

"Enough about me." He speaks first after your laughter settles down. "What do you do? Have any crazy hobbies?"

"I'm afraid I don't have any crazy hobbies at the moment. I work as a vet downtown and I don't have much free time unless it's to binge-watch movies on the weekend. I love my job though."

"Ah," Yoongi narrows his eyes as if coming to a drastic realization. "It's all coming together."

"What is?"

"The reason why you're so kind and stable." He gathers several napkins and hands them over to you when some of the water from your glass accidentally spills on the table. "No you have a bright energy to you, but it's not hyper. It's like you really care in a hospitable way. You work with animals which requires a lot of heart. Do you have any pets at home?"

"Yeah, I actually have two cats. Both siamese. I want to get a dog but right now I wouldn't be around to take care of it well. Cats are a little more independent." You wipe up the water with the napkins and continue. "Thanks for saying all that Yoongi. I'm not sure stable is the best way to describe me."

"Well, for what it's worth you're the most stable person I've met. I think everyone needs someone like you in their life."

"I–what kind of people are you hanging around?" You feel flustered so you do the first thing that comes to mind, nudge his shoulder playfully which he laughs at. "I'm not all that. I have faults like anyone else."

"Name one." He taps the table with a finger to make a point. "Dare you."

"I don't know, I dislike vacuuming my rug."

"Oh my god." He covers his mouth to feign shock. "Scandalous. I don't think we should eat together again after that. Wow."

"Stop it, that was a dumb one. I have stuff I swear. If this were a first date I'd be a bit appalled that you're asking me to list my faults. It isn't usually the time you try to pick each other apart."

"Actually, it sort of is to an extent. You have to observe each other right? So those so-called red flags will come up sooner than later to keep you from unnecessary pain and heartache later."

You maul on his words. "Point made. Wish I knew that three years ago," you hum. Yoongi seems to agree with you from the way he quietly nods.

"Ex-boyfriend?" he asks.

"Yup, what about you? Ex-girlfriend?"

He nods again and it puts an end to any further talk about exes or past relationships.

"By the way," Yoongi folds his arms against his chest. "I have a cat too. I got him two years ago at a shelter. He's pretty much my best friend."

The excitement on your face is impossible to conceal. Min Yoongi has a cat? You need to know everything about said cat right now.

"What's his name? Is he a long hair? You give me long-haired cat dad vibes." You're hasty— so sue you, you're a vet. Animals are sort of your wheelhouse.

"His name's Kiwi and he's an overly fed Russian Blue. He's six years old." Yoongi laughs and leans towards you with mirthful eyes. "If you want, I can introduce you to him." He cocks a brow and your shoulders perk up.

"Honest? I would actually die to see your cat."

Yoongi slides off his chair and tosses the empty pizza box in the trash. "Let's go to my place then."

"What?" You crickle the napkin in your hand and toss it on your paper plate. "Now?"

"Yeah now's as good a time as ever." He takes his keys from his jeans pocket and gestures for the door. "Don't worry, I won't make you stay for long."

a/n: thanks for reading! lmk what you think 💞

Masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts smut #bts au #bts fanfic #fic:enamored #kookslastbutton

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elletheactualmenace · 9 months

Text

Was it Worth it?

Pairing: Bruce Wayne(battinson) x fem!reader

Summary: Bruce did something and he is afraid you won’t ever look at him the same.

Warnings: Unfaithfulness, betrayal, harsh words, angst

Word Count: 3.7k

a/n: probably definitely my favorite of the ones I’ve been working on. I kinda wish I made the ending a little different, but I still like it. Should I make another part? Idk, anyways enjoy.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

There is a gentle humming vibration radiating from the floor of Bruce's bat cave. His music is the only thing keeping the room from being dead silent. He's hunched over the table not even sitting in the chair. He looks exhausted, because he is. The tension in the air almost hurts as much as the situation itself. Your chest squeezes in pain and your stomach is dropped farther than you think possible. Bruce, doesn't move. He won't move. He can't look at the mess he made. The mess he got both of you in.

You stand in the middle of the icy cold room. A shiver runs down your spine. Your eyes are wet and puffy. No tears have fallen, and you are going to make sure you keep it that way. At least until you are alone. You won't give him that. Your tears. They're yours, and he no longer has the right to see you in that kind of vulnerability.

Your gaze wanders over the room. It's big. And has a lot of technology. It's dark and it's lonely in a way that reminds you of Bruce. You've been in here before, many times before, but the aura is different, and it's chilling. You can't tell if you're glad or angry. And if you are being honest, if the opportunity to go back and change everything appears, you aren't sure if you would take it or leave it.

"Well," You exhale a regrettable shaky breath. You straighten out your stance. You clear your throat and sniffle in your sadness and disappointment. "I'm going to bed." You turn on your heel towards the elevator.

Your steps are loud involuntarily, and they make Bruce's chest tighten with guilt and an overwhelming sense of self-hatred. His eyes sting from fatigue and emotional pain. His tongue glides over his lip, thinking of how he should approach this, or if he should at all. But he hears your scolding voice in his head. ’Bruce, you need to do something. You have to.’

The echo of your shoes against the concrete ground ends abruptly. You tilt your head up, looking at the ceiling trying to stop the sobs and shaking from taking over. You squeeze your eyes shut, taking in a long breath.

"Bruce," You start while pressing the elevator button. You hear it descending from the floors above. The sound is audibly shaky because of the quiet unspoken tension in the air. Bruce's head turns slightly at the soft sound of your voice.

"Was it worth it?" You're curious, but there is an undertone giving away the true intent of your question. You want him to feel the guilt and feel the same amount of pain and hurt you do.

"No." He whispers the ache in his heart evident in his voice.

“Was she worth it?” Your words are like venom. The elevator door slides open with a ding.

“No. Never. Why would you think that?” Bruce grumbles out, almost insulted. Your jaw tightens at his tone. Why the hell was he insulted? You should be screaming and crying, but you keep your cool for the sake of everyone. For the sake of your marriage. The clashing of your teeth is loud in your head.

“I'm sorry, what?” Your fist tightens at your side. Now you're not just sad, you're pissed. How the fuck is he fixing this but trying to play the victim? He is not allowed to feel insulted, he doesn’t have that privilege.

Bruce doesn’t say anything, realizing the sound of his voice makes you mad. He stinks in on himself, feeling the guilt and the wrongfulness crawling from the pit of his stomach into every fiber of his being. He wants to undo everything, he wants to fall on his knees and beg for your forgiveness. But you need space. And begging will do as much as fucking Selina again. He needs to do something that proves to you he’s sorry and that it won’t happen again. But he’s not even sure he can prove it to you or that it won't happen again. He prays to everything that it won’t.

“Why would I think that?” You mumble to yourself in disbelief. You questionably hum, loudly, comically, mocking him. You laugh bitterly.

Suddenly it hits you. Why were you giving him so much as a thought right now? He doesn’t deserve your patience. He doesn’t deserve every night you waited for him to come home. He doesn’t deserve your constant ‘it’s fine’ even when it wasn’t. He doesn’t deserve the fact that you hadn’t done something drastic yet. But at the same time you knew his heart was good, and he deserves the world. You don’t know anymore. Fuck your indecisiveness.

“I’m too tired to deal with all of this right now. Goodnight Bruce.” You step into the elevator, back to the cave. You push the button without a sound and are off.

The second the doors open again you’re met face to face with Alfred. When he sees your sad and pained expression he is immediately by your side.

“Mrs. Wayne? Are you alright ma’am?” His face is full of concern. And you have to remind yourself to keep it together.

“I’m fine Alfred thank you. I think I’m ready for bed.” You curse how shaky your voice is, because Alfred notices too.

“Of course ma’am. Do you need anything before then?” Alfred is and always has been thoughtful and respectful of others, it was his job of course.

“No. I’m-, I’ll be alright. Thank you, Alfred. You are too good for this world.” He smiles at your compliment and gives a small thank you. Your unsteady breathing makes him worried, but he lets you be. If you needed to talk you would have. So he lets you travel up the stairs and into the master bedroom.

——

Alfred is furious. What has Master Bruce done this time? Alfred practically stomps down to the bat cave. He storms in with fire in his eyes.

Alfred loves you. As if you are his own. You are kind, witty, and an absolute pleasure to have around. You also care about Bruce, and he knew from the second he met you that you were going to stick around even if Master Bruce would be stubborn about it for a while.

When Bruce hears the loud steps, he perks up, hoping it’s you and that he can at least try to apologize. When he hears Alfred’s angry voice roaring throughout the cave his shoulders slump.

“Mater Bruce.” The volume of Alfred’s voice surprises him.

Bruce stays quiet. What did you say? No, he thought, she didn’t say anything. That’s not like her.

“Why have you sent your wife away in such a state? What did you say? What did you do?” Alfred never raises his voice much, but now is one of those rare occasions.

“I didn’t send her off. She left voluntarily,” Bruce responds in a gruff voice.

There is a beat of silence as Alfred gathers his thoughts and anger. Obviously you had left voluntarily. Bruce would never throw you out. Never. So, what had he done to hurt you?

“What did you do?” Alfred repeated in a firm voice. Bruce’s shoulders tighten even more than they already are. Bruce breathes out slowly, trying not to show his emotions, like always.

“I-“ Bruce starts, but his breathing gets shaky, and he stops. It feels like it hurts him just as much, if not more than you. But he would never dare say that out loud, he won’t ever try to make you think your feelings are inferior to his.

“I did something,” Bruce pauses, “And I-,” he pauses again. Alfred is so use to Bruce not sharing that the waiting doesn’t bother him anymore. Alfred lets him think about how to word it.

“I don’t think she will ever look at me the same. I don’t think she will ever forgive me.” Alfred can hear the pain in his words. He feels horrible. He wants to know what he did that was so bad.

“What did you do-“ Alfred cuts himself off when he sees Bruce switch on a screen. It’s one of the recordings he takes when goes out through his contacts. Alfred lets out an audible gasp when he sees her. Selina Kyle.

“You didn’t-“

“I did.” Bruce says bluntly, angry at himself. His eyes wander in a misty haze. Glazed over with regret.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred starts, but he stops mouth agape. As if he can’t put together what he wants to say. Like he doesn’t know himself.

He loves you and he loves Bruce. And Bruce messed up big time. It’s going to be way more, incredibly difficult than usual for Bruce to fix this.

Alfred let Bruce be alone in his thoughts, but when he realizes it will take hours for him to truly have his thoughts straight, he marches down to the cave and demands he go and fix this.

“Go.” Alfred has a serious look on his face. “You can’t just leave her there to cry, Master Bruce.”

“I- I need to think,” Bruce argues but Alfred isn’t having it.

“I will let you know you’ve been ‘thinking’ for almost two hours. You’re done thinking. You need to go and confront the situation head on.” Alfred says sternly.

“No, I can’t,” Bruce says arrogantly.

“I don’t see why you are having such trouble. Facing things head on is the bat's job after all.” Alfred retorts and Bruce stays quiet.

“Now,” Alfred starts, “Go, before I burn your suit and have all the entrance to here,” He gestures to the batcave. “Sealed.”

Bruce narrows his eyes. He knows not to mess with Alfred when he threatens, even if it seems so casually, he is dead serious. Bruce has experienced it firsthand before.

“Get moving Master Bruce, before I drag you up there myself. Don’t forget you taught you everything you know.” Alfred says with a pointed look, before turning on his heel to exit.

—-

You don’t remember a time that you have hurt as much as you do now. After brushing off Alfred successfully, at least for a bit, you moped up to the bedroom, your and Bruce’s bedroom.

After getting inside and shutting the absurdly large doors, you turn your back against the doors. Leaning all of your weight on them. Using them as a source of support. Now, finally, you let go. You let everything you have been hiding behind fall. The strong attitude to face your cheating husband. The tears pour in choked sobs. You slide down to the floor, back still against the big doors.

After a long while of sitting there you got up and got changed. If your life is falling apart your figure you might as well be comfortable.

The tears never really stop, not really. They only slow every once in a while then come back even stronger than before. It’s getting hard to breathe. You can’t even sit on the bed, it smells like him. So you sit on the windowsill, looking out at the streets of Gathom.

You don’t know what to do. It’s not really something they make books, or guides for. Screaming at his face seems like a very appealing opinion right now. Or you could run, just for a bit, take the car you had before you moved in, and he, annoyingly at the time, felt the need to buy you a new car as one of the many welcome gifts. You had told him that you didn’t need anything, but he insisted, he always does. He’s thoughtful in that way. Always giving you things. You love him, and always will love-

Wait. What the fuck? Why the hell are you doing? That loving husband you ‘will always love’ cheated on you. And proceeded to not tell you for almost five months. And you have only been married for a little less than a year. And what happened to taking the car and running? That thought just seemed to slip away.

You want to forgive him but at the same time you want to cry and scream at him for being a dick and hurting you. For all the time you have known Bruce he would never do something like this purposely, at least not from what you’ve seen. If someone asked you yesterday if you trust him and believe him, the answer would be an immediate yes, no questions asked. But now you aren’t sure. He has probably done so many things you don’t know about, and he has just never told you.

The tears start to lessen, but the pain in your chest is still present. You had asked Bruce to put in a cushion on the window seat, and of course, he did. It was soft, sure, but it was always cold and isolated. You sat here when you waited for Bruce to come home from his nightly work. So the seat always reminds you of that lonely feeling. And right now the feeling is amplified.

You just want him to know what you did wrong. What is so bad about you that he has to go find someone else to be intimate with. All you can think about are the thousands of things you could have done wrong.

A soft knock sounds from the door. You can’t tell if you with its Bruce or Alfred. But either way you get up and walk over to the doors of the master bedroom.

You pull the doors open, head hung low towards the ground. You spot black dirty boots standing in front of you. It's Bruce. And somehow the sadness in the pit of your stomach enhances at the sight of the boots.

You squeeze your eyes shut, then push the door close. But something stops the satisfying sound of the door clicking closed. A boot specifically.

A growl grows from deep in your throat.

“Go away,” The boot remains wedged in between the door frame and the door.

“Please?” It's more of a rude demand than a question. But instead of following your request a hand on the other side of the door pushes it open.

“I know you probably don’t want to talk but-“ You cut him off.

“No, I definitely don’t want to talk. That's why I came up here.” You finally look up into his hooded eyes. They’re bloodshot red, but you can’t tell if it's because he was crying or because he is sleep deprived. It's most likely the latter.

Bruce sighs sadly, he hates that he hurt you. He hates how your red puffy eyes and stuffy nose are because of him, because of what he did. He hates himself for letting Selina get to him. He knows it is and always will be his fault, but putting some blame on Selina, which she deserves, takes off some of the weight.

“Can I come in?” He asks, and you reluctantly let him in. Your body is heavy with dread. You don’t know how this will end, and thinking about leaving this room a single woman is horrifying.

Bruce walks to the windowsill you follow close behind, but keeping your distance. “What do you want to talk about?” You ask genuinely. “Are you here to tell me you had an affair with someone else? Someone other than Selina?” It comes out before you can stop it. And your breath hitches. You almost cover your mouth with your hand but stop yourself. After thinking about it alone, you realized that with Bruce, you need to let him speak before you start yelling. It never ends well when you just yell and don’t listen too.

Bruce looks hurt as he looks down at you with a frown. You sigh feeling ashamed for accusing him before he even got to speak.

“Sorry,” You mumble. “You can talk now.”

“Well, I-“ He pauses and sighs, finding it hard to put his thoughts and feelings into words. “Im sorry, and I- I know that most likely means nothing at all, and does nothing. But I just- I need you to know. Im so sorry.” His shoulders fall along with the walls that were previously up when you were down in the cave.

You don’t say anything, you can’t. You can’t say it's okay, because it's not. So you let him continue.

“The night it happened, I wasn't in my right mind.” You scoff, and he understands that it sounds like absolute bull shit. So he re-words it. “I mean, I wasn’t focused, I was stuck somewhere else.” Your sniffle rips at his heart. That sounds stupid too.

“Fuck, I was missing you. And I needed you, but you weren’t there. She was. I regret it and always will.” It still sounds stupid and like bullshit, but he doesn’t care, it’s the truth.

“I wanted to come home early, and I was going to. I was. I was going to come home to you, but Selina- she,” He pauses, his breathing goes ragged. “She stopped me and I didn’t make it home.”

The room is quiet. You're thinking and Bruce is waiting for you to say something, anything. You breathe in slowly.

“So,” You start, “I didn’t do anything wrong?” Your voice cracks as your shoulders fall and you crumble into a million broken pieces.

“What?” He’s genuinely confused, in a soft voice. Why would you think you did something wrong? Bruce can’t figure it out. “Why would you think that?” Tears well up in his eyes as he watches your brave face fall right in front of him.

You laugh as tears roll down your checks. “I- I mean you’ve been distant lately, more than normal. And I guess the only explanation is that- I did something, or I didn’t do something,”

Bruce breathes out a shaky breath, trying to stop his own tears from spilling. “Y/n, you could never do anything wrong. I did the wrong thing. I’ve been distant because of this.” His words come out slowly, more than normal, like he is really trying to make a point. “And I can never make up for what I’ve done, but I need you to know that you’ve never done anything wrong.”

You look down with furrowed brows and tears running down your pink checks. It isn’t your fault. He was just being an insensitive prick, but he said he was thinking about you before it happened. You're stuck. You want to slap him and hug him at the same time. You don’t know what to say or do with what you were just given. Bruce is your husband and the love of your life, but he cheated on you, that’s something intolerable and horrible. You don’t want to walk out of his life, or make him leave yours.

You stand with him like this for what seems like an eternity. Both of you are thinking about what will happen next. Bruce thinks you will up and leave him, he knows you have the right to, but that doesn’t mean it's what he wants, he has to remind himself that this isn’t about him, it's about what he did.

You sharply look up at him and Bruce blinks in surprise at your sudden movements. You huff out an angry breath. Bruce waits for the four treacherous words to fall from your lips. He waits holding his breath.

“I want…”

A divorce. Bruce thinks as his shoulders slump and a tear slips down his check.

“I want a bit of space.” Bruce freezes. What does that mean? “I don’t want a divorce. But I need time to heal, and to gain back everything that you’ve-, ruin-” you pause not want to be straight out rude. But inevitably you decided against being nice. “messed up.” You say in a somewhat steady voice, your arms wrapping around your body to try and comfort you. Bruce knows you were going to say ruined, but he's glad you don’t, it shows that you are willing to help him mend your marriage, it gives him hope.

“Thank you,” he says with a sob almost falling over. “I- Im so sorry, I don’t deserve you. I never have.” He sobs out, finally letting the weight of his screw up show.

“You're right, you don’t.” Bruce's eyes fall to the ground in shame. He tries to compose himself. “But in time, hopefully you will again.” You state bluntly as you try to keep your voice steady and strong, while also keeping more tears from falling in a downpour.

“And I- I need you to just hold me.” You say softly grabbing his hand and leading him to your king bed. You’re still angry, but you need him to be here for you right now.

He follows you to the edge of the bed and pulls off his boots as you slide under the comforter. You still look so hurt, because you are. Bruce knows this isn’t you forgiving him, this is you giving him his first chance to mend what was broken.

Bruce climbs in much less gracefully under the blanket, he waits for you to come to him. And you do. You wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head on his chest. His shirt smells like him and it makes you much more tired than you were five minutes ago.

“I will always be here to hold you.” He whispers into your ear as he kisses the top of your head. He feels a wet spot forming on his shirt and guilt overtakes him for the millionth time in weeks. But Bruce just shuts his eyes tight and pulls you into him even closer. Silently letting you know that you can cry for as long as you need.

Your cries turn to sobs as you grip his black shirt tightly in your fists. After a long time of on and off sobs your tears turn into whimpers and sniffles. Bruce rubs your back in soothing circles, it's what he does when he wants you to sleep. You do just that. You drift off in his arms, and without any more words he knows, as he holds you in his arms that he will have to make it up to you and gain back your trust. And he will. Starting now, he will do anything and everything in his power to repair, patch up, restore, and piece back together what he ruptured.

#battinson #bruce wayne x reader #angst #x reader #bruce wayne x you #batman x reader #Batman

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muneca-lemon-steppa · 6 months

Text

Interviews for New Beginnings: Part 6

Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader, 6.2k words

Warnings: Violence, Cursing

A/N: GUYS I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. But it is finally here. After this we only have one more chapter, so y'all I'm just so emotional. Thank you all for your patience and all the love you have shared. I'm so grateful. Special shoutout to @hoodeddreams13 for letting me chat them up to discuss this chapter because I was STRESSED. Anyway, sending all my love to you guys. Enjoy! - Mo

Alfie had convinced himself that he was doomed to hell for all of his evil deeds in life. The lying. The bloodshed. The rage. But perhaps he had done something good in this life. Maybe God finally took pity on Alfie Solomons. Perhaps the Angel Gabriel had put in a good word for him. He must have, because there was no other reason that he got to have the blessing of you nestled in his lap, face buried in his neck, small hand tangled in his unruly beard. He had dreamed of this forever, and now it was finally true. He never thought that he would get to have this. Warmth. Love. Safety. "Alfie? Darling where is your mind at?"

He felt your lips at his neck, and sighed, "Nowhere sweet. Just enjoying your company."

"Hmm… Alfie, I wish every moment could be just like this. I don't want to be anywhere else but here in your arms."

He shifted beneath you, to bring your face to his. Nose to nose, breathing in one breath. "My sweet girl, whatever you wish, you shall have yeah? You can stay here, right next to me. And we'll never leave this spot."

"We'll grow old here in your chair. I on your lap. Till the ages go by. And the vines and trees grow around us. And all of Camden will fall away and here we will be together."

"Exactly right my pet. Exactly right."

As if the Somme had suddenly emerged, Satan's army came hurtling through Alfie's door, with Sabini at the helm. The gun fire lit up the room, and all Alfie could hear was your screams of agony. In his arms you were no longer there. The silken white dressing gown he had just been caressing was stained crimson, and the color in your face had turned to ash. Alfie, who has never been lost for words, who has always had something on the tip of his tongue, had nothing come from his mouth but horrified screams. He kept shaking your shoulders, hoping to God that you would wake up, but your limp limbs gave nothing to life. He screamed and screamed your name, until his lungs gave way.

In a sudden jerk, Alfie sat up in his freezing room, his bare chest covered in sweat. The room was bathed in a light blue from the bright moon outside his window. He was alone, save Cyril on the floor by his bed. The house was quiet, and he was alone. You weren't there. Your lifeless body wasn't there. It wasn't real. None of it was real. The fear that took over his body from the dream shouldn't be so potent anymore. He'd had the same dream every night for the past week. And every night he woke up with his heart coming out of his throat and tears streaming down his face. And every night he would stop by the house you were put up in, patrolling around it with the man stationed there, ensuring that every door was locked.

The plan Tommy and Alfie had concocted had become a bloody mess across the city. Tommy’s men had marked every business and alcove the Sabini’s even had minimal connection to. One by one, they were blown up, burnt to the very foundation. Alfie’s boys had been performing psychological warfare as well. The major Sabini players had been followed by phantoms, never being truly alone, until they were slaughtered in their beds, door frames set ablaze. Everyone in Camden was talking about the horrific curse that befell the Sabinis. How it would soon overtake all of them. The city was simmering, about to burst through and explode. Though the Shelby and Solomons boys were making headway, Alfie couldn’t help but wait for the other shoe to drop.

This war was killing him. The business was killing him. He felt it. And you were seeing it. He was drinking more. Eating less. Even when you tried to touch his cheek, to remind him of the moment you two shared and the fact that you were still here and alive, he huffed and moved away from your caress. Your touch brought back the visions of his nightmares and the smoldering tailor shop. It was killing him. It was killing you.

Alfie had created a moat around you, keeping you at a distance and protecting you from him. You had been relegated to simply his secretary. No more. No less. No longer his confidant. No longer his support. No longer the sweetness or the warmth to his day. And while you knew that he was doing this out of fear and out of wanting to protect you, you couldn't help the feelings of rejection from rising in your stomach. You couldn't shake off the feeling that he saw you as a child. As a small ceramic doll that needed to be shielded and held in a box. He didn't look at the sketches you had drawn up for the club. He wasn't even letting you in on the meetings anymore. It was no longer just hurting you. It was now irritating.

On a cold and wet morning, you had enough. This could not stand. You were more than just a desk girl! You were not a girl who needed to be shielded damnit! During an hour you knew there was not going to be any meetings or meddlings, you knew you had your time. You pulled your sweater tighter around you, and pushed in to Alfie's office. "Alfie, we need to talk."

Alfie didn't even look up from his desk and the accounts he was checking, "Not now Ms. Abraham, I am currently checking your math. Tomorrow yeah?"

You pulled the chair out to sit, "No Alfie we need to speak right now."

His broad shoulders slacked down like weathered masts of a ship, and the breath released from his lungs was low and slow. His eyes pressed together as he scrubbed his face. Looking out the window of his office, rubbing his unkempt beard, "What could possibly need discussing now? You already finished all the work I gave you. And there are no more meetings. You can go home."

You wrapped your arms around yourself, the room freezing but your neck hot, "That's exactly it Alfie. You are treating me like a simple secretary."

"You are a secretary love."

"Let me rephrase for you. You are treating me like an idiot. An idiot secretary. You're treating me like a child."

Alfie just stared at you, eyes smoldering like kindling in the stove. He stayed silent, lips tight, you couldn't even tell if he was breathing. If you didn't know him you would think that he was going to fire you. But this was just Alfie. He was thinking. Plotting his next move in this eternal game of chess. Maybe if you were a more ruthless and emotionless player you would have kept you mouth shut. But who cares about winning a chess game when your heart is being chipped at slowly and painfully.

"Alfie, You shut me out. If... if what happened in the jewelery shop was a mistake -"

"It wasn't a mistake."

You paused, staring into his eyes, but he merely nodded at you to continue. "Alright. Well... if it wasn't a mistake. Why are you shutting me out? Why aren't you... letting me be your secretary like I have been all this time. Who does this benefit Alfie? Because you look even worse every day and... well Alfie I feel alone. I feel alone Alfie. I'm scared. I don't know what is going on. I feel lost. And you aren't sharing with me what I need to know. Do you think i can't do this job anymore?"

Alfie stood up, going to the window, looking out at the rain tapping the window and stones below. Though you were screaming inside for a response, you knew this movement. He was thinking, calculating. Trying to figure out the right thing to say to you in this moment. He turned to you, then walked to the door of his office, "Tea?"

It was so odd watching him make his and your tea. Frankly, you didn't even know that he had remembered how you took your tea. It was perfect. Though it was the perfect cup, and the atmosphere should have made a comfortable and relaxing time, your brow was still furrowed, confused as to what Alfie was playing at. He was drinking his own tea, staring at you in between the breaks of his scribbling in the notebook.

After what seems like hours, he finally paused, "Alright treacle. Let's talk business."

"Business?"

"Yes my dove, because what we have here yeah, is quite a bit of a conundrum so to speak."

He took a long drag of his tea before setting it back down and beginning again, "Now...treacle. Like I said yeah? We have a great conundrum. Because you... my viper... have performed a feat like none other. You yeah, have become two people at the same time."

"What are you talking about?"

“Just listen alright? Now, not only are you a damn good secretary… a very damn good secretary; but you are also someone I have grown rather… fond of.”

"Just fond?"

"Actually a third thing too, a pain in my ass. Damn woman I am trying to talk to you! Shit! Listen! I... may... feel quite fond of you. And in this business.. it is very dangerous to have people who you are fond of. Much more dangerous to have people know about your fondness for others. Now... do you understand what I'm saying treacle?"

Eyes wide, playing with the loose string on your sweater you nod and Alfie grunts in assent. "So you see my dove, I am very very fond of you. In fact it makes me absolutely sick. But... I don't want my fondness for you, to affect your safety. You understand? So that is why I have been... more reclusive."

Alfie watched you nod, your eyes wandering to the corner of the office where some spiders had begun building the foundation of their new home. He watched the quirk of your lips, and waited. You weren't about to agree. "Well... Alfie... what if you weren't the only one who was deeply fond of someone? Hmm? What then?"

"Well that would be a problem right? Because that would be a mutual deep fondness and it would be highly innappropriate."

"Why?"

"Because you are a good girl and I am a bad man."

"I don't care."

"Well you should."

"I don't."

"Well fuck treacle it is entirely out of the fucking question. It doesn't matter who is fond of who it does not matter. What matters right? What really matters, is that I keep you safe, and you get to walk out of this office and find someone your age and who is not damned to the fucking gates of hell!"

"I don't care! I don't fucking care! Because even if you are damned to hell, I have been living in one! You think you keeping me in a box will keep me safe and make me happy? I'm alone! I'm scared! And the one person in this whole fucking world who makes me feel safe is keeping me at a distance!"

Tap

The large drops of soft rain trickle down the steamed up window panes like tears from God. And soft blue light of the covered sun illuminates the storm brewing behind Alfie's eyes and the gale force winds sighing from his lungs. These past few weeks you have felt like one of those palm trees you saw in a painting in your childhood books. Swaying in the wind of Alfie's hurricane. You were in the eye of it. You were the eye. The small bit of calm in the center of the madness. But one move to the left or right would put you in the throws of it, threatening destruction and death. Yet it was suffocating in the center. No where to move. All the oxygen being sucked out.

"Alfie... don't keep me away. I can't stand it."

Alfie never took his eyes off you. In his stomach he felt as if rocks had taken up residence. There were so many things he wanted to say. So many things he wanted to do. He loved you. He loved you and he couldn't say anything about it. He couldn't for a million and one reasons and yet it was cutting him up inside to hold in this declaration. He loved you more than anything in this world, and he would absolutely evaporate if anything happened to you. And that is why he couldn't love you. That is why he couldn't say anything. But God did he want to take your tears. To hold you in his chest, to kiss you and tell you that everything was going to be ok. That he would kill every person who even looked at your house or you. That he could do it. That he could change the tides if it meant you were happy. If he could have you... you would never want for anything again.

But that's not what is best for you is it?

With a grunt Alfie stands up, motioning for the door as the clock struck 2, "Come on darling... let's get you home. "

Alfie's heart cracked into two pieces when he saw that first rivulet fall down your cheek. Silent tears that never ended all the way home. He thanked God that you let him walk you up to the door, but was not shocked when you walked in without another word. As Alfie turned back around to head back to the car, your father stopped him, "Mr. Solomons... won't you come in for something warm?"

Alfie had this house furnished and ready for the family in the wake of the fire. But your family brought another level of color and warmth that could never be bought, and it brought back memories of his mother so vividly in his mind. It was warm and rich, and the tea provided by your father was strong and invigorating, much like him. Alfie hadn't noticed how much Esther favored your father. The crease in the brow was carbon copy, and Alfie had to supress a smile on his lips when he made the realization. After the formalities often afforded to business associates, your father spoke, "Mr. Solomons... I will be candid... I know that my daughter works as your secretary. And I know that Eli works in your shops."

Alfie slowly blinked. Nothing could be said, and he had prepped already for this exact scenario millions of times.

Leaning back, letting his hands rest on his stomach, your father continued with a sigh, "And...man to man... I know that my daughter not only loves her job... but also Mr. Solomons... loves you. And I suspect, that you have loved her and do now. Yes?"

This was not something Alfie had prepared for.

"Please do not deny Mr. Solomons. Though you are a gangster you are a man and I have seen many a man fall over their feet for my eldest but you," pointing his finger at Alfie, "you have done more than trip over feet. You love her. Do you deny it?"

"No Mr. Abraham. I don't."

"You want to ask me for her hand in marriage?"

"Fuck me."

"Please Mr. Solomons, Mrs. Abraham will have a fit if she hears that talk. What do you want with my daughter? She will not be made a fool."

Alfie waved his hands in the air, trying to clear out the fog in his mind, "No Mr. Abraham I- yes. Yes Mr. Abraham, I love your daughter very much. More than I should. More than I deserve. If I were a better man I would... I would have married her weeks ago. Proper marriage. Proper ceremony. Or whatever she wanted it doesn't matter to me. She... she's the best moment of my day and the worst is when she leaves. She gives me a headache every time she argues with me but makes me feel better than I have since I was boy right? But I can't love her proper. I can't give her the life she deserves Mr. Abraham because of the nonsense that I bring. Mr. Abraham I'm man enough to say that I don't deserve her. But I'll protect her and your family until a better man comes along."

Your father hummed, looking into Alfie's eyes, as if reading all the other words that Alfie couldn't say. "You know... Mr. Kahn... he told me when I was a young man... that it is often the people who are most deserving of love who think that they don't deserve it. It is the most bravest people who think they are not brave. And the best people who think they could be better. And I wonder... Mr. Solomons... if you have forgotten that love is not a token something to be earned, but rather a gift which is freely given. It's there whether we think we deserve it or not."

Your father put a finger up to Alfie, and tip toed to the cabinet to pull out a clandestine box of cigarettes and match. Handing one to Alfie he says, "Mrs. Abraham has been trying to get me to quit for 30 years and I can't shake it. Indulge with me won't you?"

Alfie greedily sucked in the smoke, as if sharing a secret with a classmate. After a few moments puffing in silence, your father spoke up again, "My daughter is very stubborn as I'm sure you know. My wife and I know she loves you but she cannot say it to herself. She's never been good with admitting a vulnerability like that. But she will. But she won't if you keep pushing her away Mr. Solomons. And I'm sure the last thing you want is for her to be far from you yes?"

Alfie nodded in assent, reeling from this conversation. Your father's large cheeks raised in a smile, nearly concealing his eyes, "Good then. Now Mr. Solomons. regarding your shirts, Eli will be by your house at 8pm with a pack. And I’ve taken the liberty of adding a more secure button and stitch pattern.”

As he turned away he added, “I think you’re a better man than you give yourself credit for Mr. Solomons. Don’t let fear get in the way of life. We’ll all be ok.”

Alfie nodded once again, placing his fingertips on the ornate mezuzah on the doorframe. Feeling a strange peace wash over him as he touched his fingers to his lips. On the drive back to the office and the drive back home, he thinks about what your father said, the way he was welcomed into the home and table. Maybe this could work. Maybe… maybe this war could end. And he could keep you safe. And he could make you happy. Maybe… maybe it will work.

The next day when you came to work, Alfie was already in, talking to Ollie and Ishmael, maps and ledgers all over the place. The fire in the stove by your desk had already been lit and brought to vibrant life. A small bouquet of lavender and baby's breath was at bright attention in a chipped cup on the desk, right next to a blueberry scone and a little note reading 'Can't do this without you' in large and jagged neat script. "Ah treacle! Shalom. Ollie, Ishmael that will be all, get to it yeah? I want proof of death by this evening. Treacle come in please?"

You walked in tentatively, nodding and saying good morning to Ollie and Ishmael as they left. As you take you seat, Alfie is pouring out your tea and putting out the cigar he had been nursing all morning. "Here you go love, drink that down. Listen... I've been doing some thinking... and as much as it stabs me in my cold rotten heart... I do believe you are right, and I'm in the wrong."

Your tea must have been poisoned, because you spluttered at Alfie's admittance, "Alfie? Are you not well? Are you dying?"

Alfie rolled his eyes but couldn't help the small chuckle that spilled out, "No I'm not dying you vile woman! I'm apologizing! Wipe your mouth darling you'll drip on your nice dress. Like that by the way, is that new? Anyway treacle. I have been keeping you away from things. I am fond of you I worry about keeping you safe and away from the mess. I know you ain't a child, but I can't help but feel rather responsible for you. Especially now that your family knows that you're working for me."

"He told you?"

"Yeah, yeah he did treacle. Real shit espionage on your part dear, you will not be given any jobs that require being discreet love I'm sorry, but frankly you cannot lie worth a damn."

Your nostrils flared at the dig at you, but you couldn't help the smile at the corner of your lip due its' truth. Alfie continued on, "This war love, it ain't nothing new to me. And it is necessary for both me and the Shelbys. The Sabinis are right rats and I'm quite sick of their activities. If I am too... rough in my handling of you I am sorry, I do want you in this, and I can't do it without you. But I need you safe. Understand?"

Your eyes bore into his, and he was teetering on the thin line of relief and vomiting due to his new found vulnerability. "So you won't send me home early anymore? We'll go back to business as usual?"

"Yeah... If you'll have me."

You bit your lip, trying to hide your happiness and relief, "I think that is amendable to me."

You shook hands, and shivered slightly at the renewed contact that you had secretly craved for weeks. With a quick release of breath and a final firm squeeze of your hand, Alfie released reluctantly, "Beautiful. Get your little notebook and get comfortable love. We have a lot of business to attend to."

Did you ever. You had mistakenly thought that though Alfie had been sending you home, he was handling everything swimmingly. However, Alfie was actually about to collapse under the amount of plates he was spinning. You reorganized his calendar. Argued at length about the numbers and the accounts until they were perfectly balanced. You reviewed the designs for the gaming club, now named Crown and Horse, and chastised Alfie for failing to choose the wallpaper despite opening night coming in three weeks. More had been accomplished in a single day than had been done in the past week, and you both were abuzz. Alfie could not deny the fact that he had felt better than he had in weeks having you back in his atmosphere. He felt lighter. He laughed easier even if it was at his own expense. Looking at the way your eyes danced along the pages and listening to the ringing of your voice as you hollered and laughed brought him more bliss than any rum or draught that could be cooked up.

As the weeks went by, more and more Sabini strongholds and hiding spots were blown to pieces. More and more Sabini men and soldiers were driven mad by the dark spectors haunting their steps, until they were quietly taken in the night. You were aware of it all, through the whispers in the street and the information Alfie shared with you. The tailor shop was nearly finished, but business was booming more than it had in years. Whether it was due to people feeling sorry for the fire or due to peoples new found respect in the family's tie to Solomons, you couldn't tell. But your father looked more settled than he had in ages, and that was enough for you.

Opening night of the gaming club was to be a grand affair. The Shelby boys had opted to hire a band to play, and gaming tables were to be pushed to the sides to keep room open for dancing. Despite protestation from you, snow would be available along with good drink, anything to keep the crowd raucous and loose lipped. “The only difference between high brow and low brow people treacle, is how willing they are to get their good clothes dirtied up.”

Alfie had asked to escort you to opening night, you tried to decline, as you had nothing quite so suitable for an event. But Alfie scoffed, suddenly producing a wine red evening dress, with nearly black beads dotting the dress, catching the light to look like the night sky. Of course, you scolded him harshly, it was not in the budget you had set for the opening. Alfie smirked, touching the gold locket,that he refused to take back, on your neck, “There’s always room in the budget. I’ll pick you up in the car. 7. Make sure that locket stays on yeah?”

The last ‘date’ you had been on was a abject disaster. You were 17, and your date reeked of cigarette smoke and paint thinner. He took you to the pictures, where he proceeded to kiss a girl who sat next to him on the other side. To add insult to injury, Eli sat behind you to see the entire thing, and swiftly began to punch the living daylights out of your date. Eli did win, but did sport a black eye for a good while, and teased you about him for years to come.

Not that this was a date! This was not a date! This was merely a business event. A business event with your very handsome boss in a dress that he bought that just happened to be the perfect fit.

Or so you argued with Eli as he teased you from your doorway watching you pin your hair up. “Uh-huh of course. So do you think that Alfie will propose to you tonight? Or is the little locket the sign you’re using for your betrothal?”

“Get out! God don’t you have anything better to do?!”

“Mmm no Im off today. Watching you put more effort into your appearance then you ever have in your life is amusing to me.”

You spun around, “I look terrible don’t I? I look ridiculous! Oh damnit that’s it when Alfie comes you will have to tell him I caught a pox or something!”

Eli threw his head back hollering in laughing, throwing himself on your bed, “Oh my gosh!! Dear heart you don’t look ridiculous!!! You look nice!! Like a regular star! I’m only teasing you. Please please you must go. I don’t think a pox lie would keep Alfie from pushing his way into the house to get to you anyway.”

Watching him from the mirror you said, “You don’t think so?”

“Alfie? No nothing. And I don’t think it’d keep you from seeing him either. Am I wrong?”

Your head fell on the desk, “Eli… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what?”

“I don’t know if… I’m allowed to feel… the way I do.”

“Well you have to say it in order to know if it’s right.”

You turned to face him, “Eli,.. I feel… home. I feel like I’m right where I need to be when I’m with him. And I want to be next to him all the time. I don’t like not being near him. It feels like… I’m missing my favorite book. I’m still me if I’m not with him. But I’m always searching for him.”

With a soft smile Eli responds, “and why wouldn’t you be allowed to feel like that?”

“Because… well… I don’t want him to feel responsible for me. He has enough to deal with.”

Eli looked around the room, waving his hands, “Well… he did all this… and had only asked that you don’t quit. So… not that I don’t think you’re smart… but I don’t think you’ve really thought it through… it seems… like you’re looking for a reason to not love him so that you don’t feel vulnerable… am I wrong?”

Chewing on the nail of your thumb, a persistent habit you've tried to kill for years, you mumble out, "I hate it when you do that."

Eli merely smirks, mirth glittering in his eyes, "What is a brother for if not to see you past your walls? Now!" Eli stands grandly, as if finishing a fabulous routine for a crowd, "It's nearly seven mouse. Finish up so Mr. Solomons isn't kept hostage by Esther for too long."

You waived him away giggling as the memory of Esther attempting to put fake rouge on Alfie glimmers in your mind. Eli was right. He usually is, as infuriating as it is. While you had lulled yourself to sleep with fantasies of loving Alfie fully and replayed the moment in the jewelry shop every quiet moment you had and felt Alfie's breath on your neck with every whisper of the wind... you never allowed yourself to truly imagine and consider love. Never allowed yourself the pleasure of the thought of him loving you. But.

If he does.

If Eli is right.

If Alfie Solomons loves you.

And you love Alfie Solomons.

Who is to say that you can't be together.

What is to keep you apart?

What is to make love unsafe?

Your reverie and final touches are interrupted by sweet Esther bounding in joyfully, "He's here!! Mr. Alfie is here!"

She pauses at your seat on the vanity, mouth agape, teddy dragging on the floor from where it hung from her grasp, "Wow... you look like a princess..."

You laughed out, gathering Esther in your arms to carry her downstairs, "Well thank you my sweet girl. But surely not as beautiful as you."

She sqeauled and giggled as your pressed kisses to her chubby cheeks, dark red lipstick smudged on. Alfie's eyes were drawn away from Eli's story to land squarely on you and Esther. It was as if everything melted away. You were always beautiful. Always. Not a single moment was different. But in this moment you were otherworldly. Your beauty was only enhanced and amplified with the fine clothes and extra time put into your makeup and hair. The smile you had on your face was radiant and true. The love in your heart shone out adding a glow around you. Alfie wanted to live in that glow forever. Eli stopped talking and smiled at you as he watched Alfie walk towards you like a man in a trance. When you finally set Esther down, you turned in a circle, letting Alfie get a full view, "Is this ok Alfie? You don't think it's too much?'

Alfie shook his head, motioning for you to spin again, "It's absolutely perfect. You look like a right star. Every man will want to dance with you sweet."

You chuckled, "Well they'll be disappointed won't they? I only dance for one man."

For the first time in his life, Alfie felt a blush rise in his cheeks. He had never been flustered before. Silently, he grabbed your hand and pressed a whiskered kiss to your knuckles before leading you out. You waved by to Eli and Esther, excited for the evenings festivities.

You were shocked that the floor hadn't broken underneath you. It was packed. It was alive. It was proving a success. The band John Shelby had booked was relatively new but had shown the crowd the best time they would ever have. The dance floor was vibrant with sequined and bejewled bodies. Gaming tables were sending men to the grave and to Olympus in equal measure. Drinks were flowing like a river, and no one was exempt from its effects. When the Shelby boys whisked Alfie away for drinks and business, you were quickly adopted by Esme, Ada, and Polly. And though you knew that the Shelby - Solomons relationship was at some moments rocky, you felt immediate connection with the women, and knew in your heart that a friendship with them would be more than just business. Your face was hot and your body was buzzing from the energy in the room. You and Ada became fast friends, dancing and twirling like silly girls in the playground. Soon enough you collapsed into barstools laughing and whispering about the scenes surrounding you. But soon enough, your conversation with Ada was cut short by a warm and calloused hand on your shoulder. Looking up you see Alfie's glowing eyes and flushed cheeks. Ada smiled and slipped away as Alfie leaned in to your ear whispering, "Dance for me?"

You nodded, allowing yourself to be pulled from your seat to the center of the dance floor. You felt weightless as you were sucked into Alfie's embrace. A slower number was being played by the band, and though you were surrounded by couples, you would never have known. All you could sense was Alfie around you. In any normal circumstances you would have scolded Alfie for holding you so possesively in a public setting, it was improper. But you couldn't care. How could you, when your body was wrapped in Alfie's strong arms, your fingers raking through his hair, and his beard scratching against your cheek. How could you care when you were living in heaven.

"Are you having a good time my sweet girl?" Alfie husked in your ear.

You smile, bringing his nose to yours to whisper against his face, "Yes, now that you're here. Only one thing could make it better Alfie."

"What's that?"

You force your eyes to meet his storming ones, letting your hand run through his beard, "A kiss."

Alfie's large hand slides to the back of your head, making a mess of the pins holding your hair. His face came to yours, kissing you fiercely, and all the months of waiting, debating, and worrying finally melted away. You let your hands rush into his hair, mussing it as you have longed to do for nights and nights and nights. Sweet and tender and hungry and longing, Alfie's lips against your own was the only thing you could understand in that moment. It was the only thing you could comprehend. Pulling away, Alfie huffed out, "Fuck..."

You laughed at his toussled visage, "Is that all it takes to make you silent Mr. Solomons?"

His eyes grew dark, and you suddenly felt a thrill in your stomach, "Careful treacle might just have to do that again."

Alfie was reaching for you again when a commotion began at the bar.

On top of the crowded bar was Sabini, with a gun pointed directly at you. You could see Tommy pushing people out of the way telling them to get out, trying to get to Alfie. John and Arthur and other Peaky boys were fighting men off, trying to pull down Sabini

"SOLOMONS! You think this is how business is done?" Sabini howled from his place on the bar. "You think you can do this to me? You think this is how you kill a Sabini? You think I'll let a bitch destroy this business? I'll kill you all!"

Bang. Bang.

You fall to the ground. The smell of smoke and iron filled the air. You felt warm liquid on your body, and the sound of people screaming and running fill your ears.

But no pain. No fading and no light coming towards you. A heavy weight is on you groaning out your name. It takes a few moments to understand what was on you.

Alfie.

Your body suddenly awakens. Sabini was on the ground, pale and being carried out by his men leaving a trail dark blood in his wake. Alfie had pushed you to the ground to take the shot meant for you, covering your body with his in his fall. You pushed yourself out from under him, holding his face in your hands, screaming above the crowd, "Alfie! Alfie look at me!"

His eyes were searching for you, "Treacle... treacle you alright love?"

"Alfie you stupid stupid man why did you do that! Alfie please!"

He smiled weakly, "It's alright sweet girl. Old Alfie's alright. Barelt a scratch on me love. Couldn't let my best girl get hurt yeah?"

You looked down at his stomach, a sickly red bloomed on his crisp white shirt. Not a scratch. Not alright. You felt the tears streaming down your cheeks, "Alfie we need to get you to a doctor. We need to go now."

Alfie shook his head, raising his hand to your trembling face, "Nah... I don't think so sweet girl. Just give me a moment. Just let me look at your sweet face for a little. Just give me a moment."

Alfie's eyes fluttered shut as he passed out. Shaking, you began screaming his name, "Alfie... Alfie! Alfie wake up!! Ollie!!! Ollie fuck get over here! Somebody help!!! Somebody please help!!!"

Tag List: @jokersqueenofchaos @hoodeddreams13 @satur9-saturnalia @autumnleaves1991-blog @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @character---obsessed @solomons-finest-rum @cookiez56-blog , @teapartydreams , @sciencewithottsnpotts , @6asm0ne , @purrrrfect, @bluejellyfiish @jassiefayee

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons x y/n #peaky blinder fanfic #Interviews for New Beginnings

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akxmee · 10 days

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★ 02. 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗣𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗘.

"I must have forgotten that you know me so well."

Suguru gave you a closed mouth smile, closing his eyes and relaxing. If only he could tell you things would be so much easier. But things were more complicated than you could even imagine anyways.

"Unfortunately, i can't tell you."

You frowned, disappointed.

"You said you would explain everything."

"Anything but that."

"Why?"

The man sighed. That must be your favorite word, wasn't it? He couldn't blame you though, this new information is hard to digest and thank god you didn't kick them out when you came back to your senses. Moving his hand close to yours, his fingertips made contact with the palm on your hand while you two were still laid on bed, tracing unrecognizable patterns on your skin to soothe you. He liked contact, not as much as satoru, of course, but he did find it comforting. As a cat, he would always purr when you scratched behind his ears or brushed his long hair. Seems like he, as a human, still enjoyed it.

"I can't. They're always listening."

"They? Who are them?"

The question left your mouth sooner than expected, not even thinking about it. Were they in some kind of mess with bad people? Oh, your poor pets. Suguru was about to answer when another voice interrumped him, Satoru's.

"Trust me, you don't want to know."

He threw himself on the bed behind you, wrapping his arms over your figure. You tensed a little, still not used to them and neither trusting them enough to let him hug you like that. Not for now at least.

"i already cleared the hall. Not to flatter myself, but i'm an excellent cleaner! No broken ceramic anymore."

"Good boy, Satoru. Want a treat?"

Suguru cooed at him, joking around. Satoru scoffed, complaining about him being mean. They talked while you were still there, sometimes letting you join the little chit-chat and sometimes just arguing, until you all got asleep.

But you didn't.

You let Satoru have the pleasure of hugging you to sleep, since you couldn't. Suguru was already breathing calmly and resting, but you were not capable of doing so. There was still a bad feeling deep inside of your chest, like some sort of uncertain worry.

"Psst."

Someone whispered. You looked at Suguru, he was still asleep so it couldn't have been him. That only meant the one that called you was..

"Satoru?"

"That would be me, yes."

Of course it was him.

"Shh, you'll wake suguru up! What do you want?"

"You're so tense." He whispered back, making a pause. "Am i making you uncomfortable?"

"Just not used to going from sleeping with my pets to sleeping with grown men. Specially hybrids ones."

He chuckled, you felt his body shake because of that. Unlike suguru, he had a cheery laugh. Suguru's was soft, while his was loud and contagious. You shushed him again, and this time he did as told.

"That's okay, you'll get used to it. You're already making progress."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

"How? I still feel like i'm going to throw up anytime."

This time it was your turn to laugh quietly, careful not to wake the black-haired man. Reality didn't feel real anymore, and you wondered how could he even see any type of progress when you feel like you're going crazier minute by minute. He just smiled.

"You don't look at me like i'm a killer anymore."

You paused.

He didn't say anything else, slowly burying his head in your back and closing his eyes.

This time you didn't mind the contact.

It was true, you said that. And you remember exactly the face he made when you you pronounced those words.

He looked so hurt.

As far as you remember, he even stopped talking when the words left your lips. Suguru carried the explaining then, because Satoru couldn't find the strength to do so. Everyone could easily tell that he had a huge spot on his heart with your name carved in it that you gladly claimed, and that, for Satoru, felt like you were just about to discard it and leave. Because he has been called a killer, a monster and a curse, but never in a thousand worlds did he expect to hear it from you. Because when he was called names, it was you he ran to help him feel good. Until you were the one calling him a killer with such scared eyes and a cold voice, and he couldn't bear it.

It didn't matter when people called him one when at least you loved him.

And know that you called him one too and no one is there to defend him, he might start to believe it.

And then you realized.

Satoru, human or not, was still your puppy.

And like it or not, he was there when nobody else has been. Sure, what you said is justifiable; you were scared after all and didn't even recognize him. But still, you didn't even apologize and you were certain that he was still thinking about that moment because of how tight his hold was into your shirt.

So now you were left thinking for seven minutes straight whether or not to apologize to him. You should, no, you must because that's what feels right.

"Hey, Satoru."

He kept quiet. You guessed he was asleep due to the way his breathing synchronized with Suguru's, both relaxed and steady.

"I'm sorry. I don't think you're a killer."

You had to get it out of your chest if you wanted to sleep peacefully, so you did.

And then you closed your eyes, sleeping a few minutes later when exhaustion finally reached you. The atmosphere was quiet, the room was dark and piles of clutter were scattered around the room. It was so messy, yet so peaceful.

The three of you were laid in bed, finally comfortable with eachother. Suguru had his long hair spread across the pillow as he slept quietly, keeping his distance from you in bed as you requested unlike satoru, who was still clinging to you even when he was sleeping.

Then the tight grip on your shirt ceased.

"I forgive you."

Sleeping, huh?

So here you are, after the worst sleep you had in your whole life, making breakfast for two potentially dangerous people according to the government. Satoru had a bowl of sweet cereal and juice, while suguru had a cup of coffee and a toast. You were hesitant to give him the coffee at first, but he assured you he had tried it before and it didn't make him sick or something between the lines of that.

"God, I always wanted to try this brand! It's your favorite. Right, Y/N?"

"That's right, Satoru. Now please, eat in silence."

"You're no fun in the mornings."

He mumbled, taking a spoon of the cereals and milk to his mouth and exaggeratedly humming because of the taste. Suguru rolled his eyes, taking a sip of the coffee.

Both of the men eyes were following your figure, wondering where you were going to wandering around the kitchen like that. You were..looking for something? Yeah, it seemed like it.

"Here you are."

You grabbed the thing you were searching for seconds ago and placed it on the table in front of them. It was..

"A paper and a pen?"

Suguru looked at you curiously. You nodded, sitting on a chair and writing something.

"Yeah. We are going shopping for you both, you can't keep wearing that old piece of fabric."

Satoru's eyes illuminated, while suguru didn't seem as happy as his. What was wrong with their clothes? Yes, they were used, but they weren't that bad.

Except for the fact that they actually were.

He sighed, some new clothes would do him good anyways.

"What are we waiting for? I wanna go right now."

"Slow down, Satoru."You pointed at him with the pen, frowning."I need to know first, where did you get that from? We can't go shopping with you two like that."

"what do you mean like that ?"

Suguru looked a little bit offended, taking another sip of his coffe.

"looking like you just got out of jail, obviously."

Your tone was deadly serious even if the sentence sounded as a joke, because they did look like that. They were both wearing not dirty but pretty much used clothes that, as handsome as they were to pull them off, needed to get thrown away immediately. Those clothes were obviously not bought, maybe stolen or found when someone was throwing them away. They looked decent far away, but you could tell the fabric was about to rip off when you looked at it closely.

"It's not that big of a deal. Right, Satoru?"

The man shrugged, smiling. Satoru nodded.

"Yeah, they didn't need them anyways and it's not like we could go shopping anytime we wanted."

You sigh at that. So they did steal those clothes.

"Just—" You stop yourself before saying anything else. Remember Y/N, they're hybrids, that's justified or whatever since they were weird themselves. "Just go to my room, I'll give you borrowed clothes and we'll get in the car."

Satoru cheered, and no time was wasted.

So there you are now, in a mall helping the boys choose clothes for themselves. Not only did you have to lend them clothes, you had to handle satoru and suguru fight for the passenger seat just for them to end up sitting at the back. Not to mention that, to get this morning free for them, you had to call choso to please do you a favor and cover your turn. He, being the sweetheart he is, agreed with close to zero complaints and told you not to worry. You had the best friend in the world, didn't you?

"Hey Y/N! I found this."

Satoru came over, holding a strange item in his hand.

"Found what? Let me see."

He handed it to you, and you could easily tell what it was. Those were a pair of sunglasses, round shaped with black tinted crystals.

"Aren't those amazing?"

"Yes, Satoru. But aren't these such a waste?"The blue eyed man looked at you with certain doubt, so you kept talking."They will hide your eyes."

"Is it a big deal? I like them."

He tilted his head to the side, not sure if he misunderstood you. Perhaps you weren't fond of those, maybe he should get another color? Surely he could find blue-tinted ones, those would suit him too. Then you smiled, shaking your head and putting the glasses on him, covering his eyes. You looked at him, the black of the glasses contrasting perfectly with his pale skin and hair. Maybe a black outfit would look good on him, a gray one, a dark blue one?

Doesn't matter, he looked good in everything.

"You like them, so get them."

A wave of happiness ran over the white haired man who thanked you, gave you a short hug and instantly ran off to tell suguru the new item he was going to wear. Oh, suguru was going to be so mad! You watched as he looked for his bestfriend, giggling.

That only reminded you once again of how close they are, and all thanks to you. You found and adopted them when they were just pups while you were just a child, and they've been your companions ever since until now that you were an adult. Suguru and Satoru were the definition of brothers even if they shared no blood, they were both so troublesome when they were little. Suguru has matured a little, while Satoru only looked mature when he wanted to which was practically once a decade.

"Ah..what a child."

You breathed out for yourself, looking for shirts and blouses at the men section of the store satoru and suguru picked, looking for something comfy for them when you didn't actually know what they would like. Suddenly, you hear a voice behind you.

"You look lost."

When you look to where the deep voice comes from, you see a man. He wasn't even looking at you, reaching for a shirt that was hanging above the one you were looking at while he talked. He had a muscular body, masculine features, dark hair, and even if you didn't have too much time to look at him good you could swear that you saw a scar on his mouth. He grabbed the shirt, a black compression one, looked at the price of it and threw it in his cart before finally looking at you with a smirk.

"Need some help, doll?"

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 🌷

—𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥'𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘: Second chapter finally done, this one is longer so i hope that it paid off the wait! Anyways, i'm sure you can guess who that is right? ;)

—𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧

@kingshitonly @snake-lover-artist-blog @ashers-playpen @pizza-market @channies-bbg-room @pdacex @spindyl @foliea @queen-luna-007 @labelt-san

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fluffysucker · 8 months

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Fine Line

Bucky Barnes x Reader (Mob Au)

' We'll be a fine line. We'll be alright.'

A/N: I'm so sorry for the long delay. I have been having the busiest of days but I finally have some time off which I'm hoping can get me to write more. Anyway so thank you so much for being so nice.

This is supposed to be the last chapter but I got carried away and hopefully the last one will be out soon.

Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated. Opinions really matter to me

TW: Violence. Threats. Cursing. LMK if I forgot something,

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist.

It was war, and you knew it. All of you did. But it was inevitable. There was no escape or an easy way out. One had to go down once and for all. You wished it would be them, but you could only pray they didn't drag you along.

A bit of time had passed. You were still staying with Bucky. Whenever you brought up leaving or finding somewhere else, he immediately turned the idea down. He never got bored of reminding you that he couldn't let you go, and it was his fight as well. He's got you now.

And he did. He took good care of you. You were well-nourished and fully rested. You didn't lift a finger. The maid and housekeepers were very happy to have you back. They didn't need Bucky to swear them to secrecy. They could tell that nobody should know you were with Bucky, and despite not being part of the mob, they understood why. And they didn't want to be the ones to compromise your safety. They liked you too much.

Along with the food and sleep, Bruce stopped by every couple of days to check on you and change the bandages on your wounds and stitches. He also kept giving you medications, which helped greatly with your recovery.

Since you got married to Rumlow, this was the longest you felt physically fine. And emotionally as well. Having Bucky within arms reach and getting to keep his company once again has been doing miracles for your mental health. You felt almost pathetic at how much you were genuinely feeling better.

The way Bucky treated you was a surprise. You expected some sort of resentment or bitterness, or at the very least, awkwardness. He tried to stop you from getting deeper into the darkness, and you didn't listen, thinking you were protecting him. Yet here you were. Dragging him further into a mess he never signed up for, seeking his protection

But all you saw were adoration in his eyes, kindness in his words, tenderness in his touch, and delicacy in his actions. It was a pleasant surprise.

You never talked about your current situation or even your history. But the love that connected the both of you was undeniable. He may not have said the words again, but Bucky's behaviour spoke louder than any words. The fact that he was risking it all for you showed his true feelings for you, which never died. The feelings that you deeply reciprocated

You couldn't help but feel a heavy feeling in your heart at how you turned his life upside down. One phone call in the middle of the night put this burden on his shoulders. No matter how much he said it was okay, you couldn't help but feel like you were an obstacle he needed to overcome.

However, he never once made you feel like you were trouble. On the contrary, Bucky provided soft, sweet feelings that you could swear you forgot they existed. It was the ease of hanging out with him. The peacefulness of his company. The compassion in his actions. The great care he put into everything for you. The comfort of falling asleep, held by arms that could never hurt you. A silent tradition the two of you developed that made sharing a bed the rule, not the exception. It wasn't shocking when your demons haunted you fearlessly at night or how your nightmares counted the seconds until attacking you in the deep darkness of the night. It wasn't unexpected or new for this to happen. However, this time, you had a knight in shining armor. Your own knight in shining armor A man your heart loved so much that your nightmares couldn't win.

You didn't need to ask. After finishing his nighttime routine, Bucky would join you in your room, getting in bed with you. You thought he was doing this out of the goodness of his heart after your breakdown on the third day here. Your terrified screams and wailing sobs had rung through the floor you shared. It was all catching up to you. The pain. The hurt. The betrayal. The fear. You were finally letting yourself feel it all. And it wasn't just the murder intention in cold blood. It was unfairness that had been your life for so long now. All the strain you had to endure. All the emotions you bottled in.

You were weeping and close to hyperventilating. Only once did you feel Bucky's arms around you were you consoled, pulling you into his lap and rubbing his hand all over your back and thighs while trying to get you to breathe slowly. Even after catching your breath, his gentle voice didn't stop whispering soothing things into your ears. You knew you should have moved once your sobs were reduced to sniffles, but you didn't find it in yourself to do so. You could only wrap yourself more tightly around him, gripping his shirt firmly in your fists. His voice and touch were grounding you, keeping you afloat away from the pain.

After that, Bucky didn't need you to vocalize it. He understood. So he came to you every night. It didn't make the terror stop. You had so much unpacked to just go away. But every time your mind betrayed you and was to throw you into panic, your tensed body would instantly relax against Bucky's strong hold, who pulled you closer to him once he felt the tension in your body. It was like he knew how to calm you down immediately. And he did. He was your safe place. Your fortified castle.

You were extremely thankful, thinking he was doing another good deed for you. The truth is, it was never just for you. Bucky felt a sense of stability and security having you in his arms, so close to him. He wanted to feel you beside him. He needed to know that he was the one taking care of you. He needed to be sure you were okay. Two years of radio silence between the two of you, then finding out what you had to go through, did this to him.

It would have been easy to let yourself get tricked by the restful atmosphere Bucky created, but you knew better. This wasn't a vacation. This was the quiet before the storm. And you knew Bucky was working on something. But he tried his hardest to keep his promise to keep you away from all this mess. Whenever you asked, he didn't give you answers. You told him you had to know at some point. Despite how much he hated it, he knew you were right.

So you embraced yourself when one of the housemaids told you that Bucky was waiting for you in his office. Pulling all your strength to knock on his door. A breath of relief escaped you once Bucky's voice reached your ear. If Bucky was there, you would be fine. That is the only thing you were so sure of.

Bucky got up from his seat after you entered the office, preferring to stay close to you as long as you were here. A smile made its way to your face when you noticed Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson sitting on the chairs in front of Bucky's desk. Being Bucky's most trusted men and his long-term bestfriends, you were familiar with them. Years ago in your dating days, when Bucky first introduced you to them—if you can call catching you cuddling on the coach with face masks and your hair in towels and watching rom-coms an introduction—you were waiting for the rudeness and unacceptance. But it never came. Instead, you got a family. Both men were so welcoming, treating you like a sister. Like you were one of them. So you were happy to see them again, feeling even more secure now.

Bucky led you to the coach, where he sat next to you. Then they started talking. Telling you everything. And you listened. They gave you all the information they were able to find, hoping you could help them connect the dots and figure out your father and husband's plan. And you didn't hesitate to offer all you knew.

It went on for days. Bucky would call you into his office every now and then. You would have long conversations, and they would ask you even general questions, trying to form a better idea out what was happening. Until Rumlow and Pierce pulled a card that exposed their whole game to Bucky.

So when Bucky called you in this day, you couldn't hide your unease once you took in all the new people joining in. Bucky's hand never left yours, a sign that he was right here. He tried to delay this meeting as much as he could, refusing to risk your safety, even if he trusted every single person in this room. But it couldn't wait anymore. They need to move fast.

You didn't speak a word as Bucky explained everything to you. Listening and taking everything in. Everything makes so much sense now. You had been the pawn for far longer than you knew. You were played for a fool. A mixture of anger and sadness ran through your veins, making you agree to Bucky's plan right away. He reassured you that you could turn it down and they would figure something else out, but you didn't. You wanted this to be over.

You were declared dead.

It was a weird feeling. On paper, you were gone. In their minds, they had won. However, they were about to be proven wrong. It's the day you've been waiting for yet somehow dreaded the most.

Bucky kept you by his side all morning for both of your sakes. Both of you are praying for the same outcome. The only outcome you can accept You and Bucky stayed together until the last minute possible. Until you had to move.

Everyone was in position. Most of Bucky's men were out of the house or well hidden, so it would look normal. Only Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Natasha were in the house. and, just like expected, at night. Loud footsteps and angry groans were echoing around the house.

Breaking into the house, a very furious Alexander Pierce and out of his mind Brock Rumlow, along with dozens of their men, walked into the house like they owned it.

"BARNES." Rumlow shouted, looking for the man he hated the most.

Keeping his confident, cold composure, Bucky walked out of his office, followed by Steve, Sam, and Natasha.

"That's not a nice way to visit someone." Bucky came to a stop in front of them.

"I'm going to kill you." Brock moved to attack Bucky, only to be stopped by Pierce's hand on his chest.

"How long have you been planning for this?" Despite his calm voice, Pierce was fuming.

"I wasn't planning for anything." This was going to be a long conversation, and Bucky wanted them to be the ones talking the most.

"Cut the bullshit, Barnes." Rumlow tried to move towards Bucky again but was stopped by Pierce again.

"I don't know what you want." Bucky was holding his ground, sticking to the plan.

"You robbed us." Rumlow shouted, anger coating his voice.

"I don't think so." Bucky enjoyed watching the two men lose their minds.

"DROP THE ACT, BARNES." Pierce's voice rang in the house, making all eyes turn to him. Not a single noise other than the unsteady breathing.

"I have been waiting my whole life for this moment. The moment I get back what I deserve. What had always been mine. So I will be damned if I let you play me like this." Pierce moved forward to stand closer, finally digging into the real issue.

"You mean what was hers all the time?"

"It was never hers. She was nothing and deserved nothing. This is my whole life's work. She shouldn't have gotten anything from it."

"Yet her mother left her everything."

"It was a mistake. My wife's only and last mistake A mistake I have been trying to change for so long now."

The piece of information came as a shock to everybody. Alexander Pierce loved his wife so much. They were young lovers. A young, ambitious man who was willing to do anything to get his father-in-law's permission to marry his daughter. Even going so far as to put everything he owned in her name. And he did. And he never changed it. The bigger his empire became, the more his wife had under her name. He loved her enough to trust her.

His wife did love him dearly, but she loved you more. It didn't take Pierce long into the marriage to show his true colors. He was never violent with her or you. However, your mother didn't trust him with you if something were to happen to her. It was distasteful to try and protect your daughter from her own father. But she did.

When Pierce found out his wife left everything he worked so hard to achieve for you, he was raging. It didn't help that he was grieving her and their love as well. His emotions were on high drive. So he channelled them all into hating you and getting back what was his. And all you were told was that your mother left you nothing.

"And marrying her off to Rumlow was going to solve it."

"I had to do something before you would get her to run away with you."

"It has always been about the money for you, hasn't it?"

"Of course it is. Not only did I never want a daughter in the first place, but I got a weak, pathetic excuse for a daughter who could never keep my legacy. My biggest failure in life"

"A stupid bitch who handed you all my wealth"

"I should have listened to him when he said to kill her years ago."

It's infuriating to hear someone talk about you like this when you were nothing but the best. but that was their plan all along. They wanted you out of the picture as quickly as possible so they could have the money. Which is why they had their riot men in the police station to hurry your death announcement. They reported you missing a week ago, and that move exposed everything. Since when do they include the police in their work? However, the fastest way to get your money was a document confirming your passing.

But Bucky was smarter than them. He had you transfer everything to his name before the announcement, making sure to keep the dates unseen on the legal form. And you had no problem doing so. If you trusted Bucky with your life, weren't you going to trust him with money you never knew you had in the first place?

"I just want to know when. When did you get her to sign off on everything for you? I had eyes on her all the time. And she is too dumb and blind to plan something like this on her own." It was Rumlow's turn to ask questions now.

"So, how did you do, Barnes? When did you get our money?"

And that's your sign.

"When you left me to die,"

Your voice echoed through the house as you stepped out of Bucky's office, all eyes turning to you.

"When I found out you wanted me dead my whole life." You came to stop right next to Bucky, in front of your father and husband. Bucky's hand was itching to hold yours, but he knew it wasn't the right call.

"You are supposed to be dead." Rumlow couldn't hide his surprise and shock at seeing you standing in front of him, looking healthier than ever. You were glad Josh wasn't here among the others because you didn't want to put him in a hard spot. He saved your life, and that is not how you repay him.

"Miracles happen. Just like how I survived all your attempts to kill me." Your voice was strong. Stronger than you ever used with either man.

It's important for them to know that you are still alive and well. That their plan failed beyond what they ever thought. That you were finally making your own decisions. Despite how much Bucky hated it, he knew it had to be done.

"And how did he get it? I willingly gave him everything. Because it's my money, and I get to decide what to do with it. Like Mom trusted me with it, I trust him." You were talking to both men.

"I get to make my own decisions, despite how much you like to think you can control me. You can't." You knew you were pushing your luck, but it was now or never.

"You, bitch." Rumlow marched towards you, trying to reach you.

But Bucky was quicker, pushing you behind him, standing tall in Rumlow's face, daring him to come close, daring him to think about touching you.

"Natasha, please take her to her room." Bucky's voice got colder as he called for his friend.

You went with Natasha as planned, putting all your efforts into not squeezing Bucky's hand before going upstairs.

"Oh, she has a room now." Rumlow's remark was sarcastic but so angry.

"Always had. Always will have." There was no point in hiding it anymore. They already knew. It was now time to see how much you really meant to him.

"What exactly are you expecting to happen now, Barnes? We are going to walk out and accept defeat. You aren't that stupid." Pierce said angrily. The sight of you alive and breathing was aggravating.

"Actually, that's exactly what you will do if you want to walk out of here alive." There was no way they were walking out of here alive, but Bucky liked to play.

"Oh, we are walking out of here alive. You are the one who will never see the sun again. And let me tell you how I waited for this moment.."Rumlow's didn't affect Bucky's in the slightest.

"KILL THEM ALL."

Rumlow's command to his men was loud enough for everybody to hear. But none moved.

"Did you all go deaf? I said, Kill them all." Rumlow repeated his order.

"What do you want us to do, boss?" One of the men asked

"We said kill them." Pierce shouted as he and Rumlow turned to look at their disobedient men.

"Boss?"

"Take them outside. The rest of the men will tell you where to take them."

Pierce and Rumlow's heads almost flew off their bodies with how fast they swung to look at Bucky, who was smirking. It was the moment he was waiting for.

"What? Surprised?. Of course, your men aren't loyal to you. You aren't the least bit decent to deserve anyone's loyalty."

"Unlike you, they are smart men who knew how to pick the right side.

"You, on the other hand, are not so smart."

"You should have never walked in here. You should have never shown your faces."

Bucky moved to stand right in their faces, enjoying every bit of this. Especially seeing the two men crumble under him.

"You should have never let your ego make you think you could win. Think that you even had a chance."

"I'm going to make you regret everything. I'm going to make you pay for everything." Bucky was stressing over every word leaving his mouth, his cold stare like daggers.

His next words were more for Brock Rumlow.

"Especially messing with my girl."

"For every time you made her cry, I'm going to hurt you worse. For every time you laid a hand on her or touched a strand of her hair, I'm going to tear you apart. For every scar on her body, I'm going to burn you alive. For every time you hurt her, knowing she is my girl, I'm going to make you wish that I would just kill you."

"I'm going to make you pray for death but never get it."

"TAKE THEM"

Bucky's demand rang through space, and quickly, the men surrounded Pierce and Rumlow, outnumbering them and dragging them outside the mansion with both men's protests and failed attempts to escape. It was all in vain. They lost. They fell, and they shall never arise again.

Steve and Sam followed the men out, making sure Pierce and Rumlow were taken care of until Bucky had the right time for them. They patted Bucky's shoulder before leaving, happy that it all worked out as planned, knowing how much this meant to him.

There was only one thing left.

Taglist: @ozwriterchick @vicmc624 @pattiemac1 @kandis-mom @dexter99

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cyntinen · 1 year

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Craig's gang incorrect quotes

Tweek: guys! Clyde is refusing to use his glasses!

Clyde: Tweek, calm down, i used glasses for a day and i'm fine now! i proof it to you!

Clyde: *points at Craig* Craig

Clyde: *points at Token* Token

Clyde: *points at jimmy* Jimmy

Clyde: *points at cartman* sasquatch

Jimmy: he has a point guys

Token: who broke the toaster?

Craig: it was Clyde

Tweek: Clyde

Jimmy: it must have been Clyde

Clyde: *tears in his eyes* yOU GUYS PROMISED NOT TO TEEEEEEL-!

Clyde: i've done a lot of dumb stuff

Tweek: i've witnessed the dumb stuff

Jimmy: and i recorded the dumb stuff

Craig: i joined you in the dumb stuff

Token: and i....tried to stop both of you FROM DOING THE DUMB STUFF

Token: sometimes i think that i'm the only one in this friend group with a brain cell!

Craig, Clyde, Tweek and Jimmy: ALL HAIL the keeper of the sacred brain cell

Clyde: Craig, i know you snuck out to see Tweek last night

Craig: if you tell Token or Jimmy, i swear i'll murder you and they'll never find the body

Clyde: you buy me tacos later?

Craig: fucking- FINE!

Clyde: Craig is okay, calm down

Cartman: HE IS OKAY!? he told me he was going to break my legs! and don't tell me he didn't mean it, because i saw the look he gave me! he fucking meant it!

Clyde: Cartman, Craig threatens everyone. he has threatened me everyday since i was born. he threatens Jimmy every day. he probably threatened Tweek this morning and Tweek is his boyfriend. it's what he does. grow a pair

Tweek: hey! let's play Kiss Marry Kill!

Tweek: AAA! who would you guys kill first?

*everyone points at Clyde*

Clyde: *tears in his eyes again* fuck you guys!

Craig: we need more help, wait i will vall my friends

Tweek: .........your what?

Craig: my friends

Token: *looking others* is he seriously saying "friends"?

Jimmy: i think he is being sar-sarcastic!

Clyde: no no no NO! this is delirium!

Token: oh, new word. do you know what it means?

Clyde: ...shut it. anyways, as i was saying..Craig is cracked from being awake the whole night. hey, Craig! all of your friends are in this room!

Craig: i have other friends

Token: stop lying

Tweek: i don't know. sometimes i just think that Craig and Clyde share the same brain cell

Token: they do. and it's not in use very often

Jimmy: .....and still you are dating them

Token: oh, guys! before i forget to tell you, me and Clyde are dating!

Jimmy, Tweek, Craig and Clyde: *gasp*

Token: Clyde? WHY ARE YOU SURPRISED?!

Jimmy: how do Craig and Clyde usually get out of these messes?

Tweek: they don't. they just make a bigger mess that cancel the first one out

Token: true. now excuse me, i need to call their lawyer

Clyde: thank you for the taco date Token! i'm so happy i could kiss you!

Token: uh....neat!

*later*

Token, lying face down on his bed: i said "neat" Craig! who the hell says neat these days? it's not neat to say neat, but i did anyways because i'm fucking stupid

Craig, watching red racer: don't beat yourself up too much Token. everyone gets nervous sometimes

Token: oh, just like you did, when tweek confessed to you and you thanked him?

Craig: shut the fuck up :)

Tweek: you know, Token gives Clyde flowers everyday. i wish you would do that too

Craig: okay??

*later*

Craig: *gives Clyde flowers* here you go

Clyde: ????

Craig: i don't know, Tweek wanted me to do this

#south park #incorrect south park quotes #craigs gang #clyde donovan #craig tucker #token black #tweek tweak #jimmy valmer #south park creek #sp tyde

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one-vivid-judgment · 2 months

Note

ASDFGHJKL! Thanks for doing that last ask! I still feel ashamed but I'm in need of part 2: what if it's the guys (Sawashiro, Takabe, Yamai, Tomizawa, Ebina) who walked in on their s/o touching herself and moaning their names? (>/////<) Many thanks!

Listen, I have so many requests but I'm back on this series so soon because IT'S HOT OKAY 😭😭 Yamai and Tomi specifically, I need you carnally. Y'all are valid as fuck, I know I've said this before but I wanted to remind you anyway.

Jo Sawashiro

Sawashiro didn’t expect to one day be leaving the yakuza, much less with only one eye left. He also didn’t expect you to manage to talk him into going to an actual doctor to check his wounds—but oh well, he likes headstrong women, so really, that’s only another point in your favor.

With his constant hospital visits though, that means Jo sometimes isn’t home for hours at a time. It doesn’t surprise you; his wounds were severe, Ebina really fucked him up and you hope the bastard rots. In any case, him leaving you alone for so long means that, sometimes, you get needy when he’s not around. Meaning that, since he’ll probably be tired when he comes back, you need to take care of yourself. You wouldn’t want Jo to overexert himself just to make you come, after all.

It’s when you’re lying in bed, having fished your old vibrator from the nightstand and slamming it inside, moaning shamelessly and all but screaming Jo’s name so loud the neighbors surely heard you. You peek at the doorway upon hearing something like a floorboard creaking under someone’s weight—and see, it’s not common to see Jo Sawashiro completely speechless, but you may have found just the way.

“Fuck, would you... I can help you with that—Let me help you with that.”

Mamoru Takabe

You knew Takabe was dedicated to his job when you started dating him. In fact, that’s kinda what attracted you to him at first: devoted, attentive man like him? You didn’t stand a chance. But, as it were, that trait of his can also be a flaw sometimes; mainly, when Takabe stays at Seiryu HQ way past midnight to get work done or help his boys with whatever business they are up to. Thankfully, that doesn’t happen too often. When it does though, Takabe’s absence is very noticeable.

Tonight is one of those nights where Takabe stays at HQ till the wee hours and comes home late. Of course it had to be today, when you’ve been horny out of your mind since you woke up. A quickie in the morning wouldn’t have solved that, you know it wouldn’t have, that’s why you didn’t ask for one before he left. You kind of regret that when the clock strikes twelve and Mamoru still isn’t home. Well, time for plan B: taking matters into your own hands.

You leave the bedroom door wide open, in case Takabe comes home. Might as well give him a show—you haven’t had sex in how long now? All because of his stupid job... But now it’s not the time for that. Now it’s time to let your imagination run wild, maybe think about everything you know Takabe would do to you if he were home—scenarios that might come true sooner rather than later, you realize when his name spills from your lips and you hear someone chuckling from the other side of the room.

“I’ve neglected you lately, haven’t I? I’m sorry, that was rude of me. Let me make it up to you, yeah?”

Yutaka Yamai

Yamai is a lot of things. A selfish lover is definitely not one of those. You can have the highest sex drive in the world and he’ll be more than happy to give you what you want. He gets a kick out of indulging you, in a way. Still, he’s the leader of his own syndicate; he can’t just let his guys run amok, can he? There’s got to be some order. Meaning he can’t always indulge you, even if he wants to.

Today has been a long day. Work fucking sucked, the food sucked, everything sucked and all you need is Yamai to fuck your brains out until you don’t know your name anymore. Which fucking sucks again, since he’s been dragged into some other mess on the other side of town and God knows when he’ll come back. The pillow still kinda smells like him though...

Humping the pillow is not usually your go to, but fuck, does it smell like Yamai. Just as cold as he is, too. No wonder you start moaning his name sooner rather than later. You can almost picture him just standing there, watching in amusement as you desperately breathe in his scent straight from the pillow you’re humping—maybe because he is there. Standing there, watching in amusement as you desperately breathe in his scent straight from the pillow you’re humping.

“Well, shit, ain’t you a pretty sight. You don’t mind if I stay and watch the rest of the show, do you?”

Eric Tomizawa

Tomi is a taxi driver. Meaning that, again, he’s out and about more than he’d probably like. You understand though—a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do to put food on the table. He wants a family, after all, and money’s not gonna materialize out of thin air, is it? Oh, and also, when he comes home with all the pent up stress, he fucks you hard, says the filthiest shit, too.

Honestly though, he’s given you way too much material to fantasize about when you are all alone. Like that one time he went off about how he’d keep you as his personal cockwarmer during work hours, pushing your head down as far as it’d go and making you choke on his cock. And yeah, the thought sounds hotter than it has any right to be—and it’s all Tomi’s fault for getting those ideas into your head, cause now you’re all hot and bothered and he’s not there to do anything about it.

So, you’re going at it, one of Tomi’s shirts that you’ve fished from the closet pressed to your nose and so so close. And you moan his name, and that’s when you hear something drop and stop. And poor Tomi looks so flustered, so confused but also so into what he sees, you kinda want to jump him and eat him right up.

“Oooh shit. You can’t—You can’t do this to me, I’m not that strong, I... God, you’re so fucking wet. Did I do that?”

Masataka Ebina

Ebina does what he wants, when he wants. If you want to have sex while he’s busy at the office, he’ll skip out of work for an hour or two to go take care of you. If you are his girl, he’s spoiling you rotten, with gifts and with actions.

Thing is, you do find it amusing to be bratty every once in a while. He doesn’t like disobedience, and if you are, he’ll teach you a proper lesson. That’s what makes it so much fun to tease him. You don’t have to masturbate if you’re with him, but you still do—mostly because you want him to catch you and punish you. It’s all very deliberate, really.

He knows how much of a brat you are. That’s why it doesn’t faze him when he finds the bedroom door wide open, your legs spread wide in the bed, naked and moaning his name like your life depends on it. Which, maybe it does—he’ll have to bend you over his knee first.

“Whoever would’ve guessed my darling was such a slut. Was waiting five minutes really too much for you? Desperate little whore...”

#ryu ga gotoku #like a dragon infinite wealth #lad infinite wealth #yakuza 8 #yakuza like a dragon #jo sawashiro #mamoru takabe #yutaka yamai #eric tomizawa #masataka ebina #.txt #anon ask #yakuza headcanons #nsft headcanon

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kaminocasey · 1 year

Text

We Were Golden Part 3

Summary: You get less than ideal news about your future with the Batch and of course they do something about it.

Pairing: Crosshair/F Medic!Reader , (Eventual???) Hunter/Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Angst, anger, wounds

WC: 5.1K

A/N: I'm actually really excited to take you guys on this journey, because I promise you... If you think you know where this story is heading, no you don't. Or maybe you do. Idk lol. Either way, I'm excited.

Part 2

TAGLIST FORM

“How is he?” Hunter asks as he leans against the wall in the corridor.

You smile softly at Hunter’s concern for Echo. “He’s fine. He’ll wake up soon.”

You lean against the wall, next to him, watching as Wrecker teases Tech and Crosshair about something. Hunter’s eyes are on you when you turn back to face him.

“What?” Your eyebrows raise.

“Nothing. You’re just really good at your job.” He smiles.

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” You chuckle.

“Not with them around.” He nods in the other guys’ direction.

“So true.” You nod in agreement as one of the shock troopers approaches Hunter.

“You’re being summoned by the prime minister once you are done here.” He tells him.

Hunter glances at you with a roll of his eyes. “Sounds about right…”

“Thank you.” You nod to the shock trooper, who nods back and walks back down the corridor from the way he came.

“So anyway, I was thinking after our next mission, we could take a few days and-” Hunter starts but cuts himself off when he hears something behind the medbay door. “Echo’s awake.”

You push off the wall and start to walk into the medbay, reminding yourself to ask what Hunter was going to say, later. Right now, you need to tend to your batchmate.

When you walk into the room, you hear the Azi unit rambling on about some numbers and then you make eye contact with Echo as you come over to his side to check on him.

“Ha! Told you he’s alive!” Wrecker booms, startling Echo slightly and then points at Crosshair. “You owe me two credits!”

You roll your eyes at Crosshair. “Please tell me you didn’t think that Echo wasn’t actually going to make it.

“CT-1409’s condition is stable.” The Azi droid speaks up, hovering in front of Omega.

“See, Echo? You’ll be fine.” You squeeze his hand and he smiles up at you, slightly.

“However, I have some distressing news for the rest of you.” Azi turns away from you and Echo. “According to your test results, you all appear to be genetically defective clones.”

“Tell me you’re not surprised.” You look over at Tech, who looks like he’s in deep thought.

“I will leave you to process the shock of this revelation.” The droid hovers away.

“We’ve got a problem.” Echo speaks up, sitting up more.

“Not really. We’re more deviant than we are defective.” Tech shrugs, but somehow you don’t think that’s what Echo was talking about. “Not that.” Echo shakes his head. “Admiral Tarkin is here. He’s the one evaluating the clones.

“The same Tarkin from the Citadel rescue when you, uh…” Tech struggles to be delicate in choosing his words. “How shall I put this?”

You give him a soft, encouraging smile.

“Blew up?” Wrecker grins.

You shake your head at the larger man and sit on the edge of the bed by Echo’s feet.

“And turned into that.” Crosshair takes his toothpick out of his mouth and points it at Echo.

You shoot the sniper a glare, knowing that you’re definitely going to give him an ear full later. There’s no reason for him to be so rude about Echo. You know that they’re completely different as people, but they’ve gotten along this far, right?

Echo doesn’t seem to mind Crosshair’s rude remark. He just sighs. “Yes, and he’s not a big supporter of clones.”

Hunter crosses his arms. “We’ll soon find out. We’ve been summoned by the Prime Minister.”

“Guess he didn’t find that mess hall fight amusing. But I sure did.” Wrecker chuckles.

Of course he did. You’d expect nothing less from Wrecker. It’s one of the things that made you care about him, though. You wouldn’t change the man for anything.

“Come on. Let’s get this over with.” Hunter nods toward the door.

Echo hops off the exam table and you start to follow him out of the medbay into the corridor. Being summoned by the Prime Minister was definitely not something you’re looking forward to. Prime Minister Lama Su gives you the creeps. In fact, most of the Kaminoans do. There’s definitely something… secretive about them. Something you couldn’t put your finger on.

“Wait! The fight was my fault. I’m going too.” Omega zooms in front of the group before you can leave, halting you all.

“Not happening. We’ll handle this.” Hunter tells her, walking past her.

“But, I-” Omega starts again.

“Listen, Kid… Our squad’s nothing but trouble.” Hunter tells her firmly. “For your sake, keep your distance. Got it?”

He has a point. A child has no place with this squad. You’re always in danger or on the move. You give her an apologetic nod and head out with Hunter, leaving the child behind in the medbay.

As you walk down the corridor, you try to catch Crosshair’s eye, he just sideyes you like he used to do back in the early days before you got together. You quirk your own eyebrow up and he smirks, slightly… barely…

“That was a good hit earlier.” Crosshair compliments you.

You break into a grin immediately, appreciating the feeling of normalcy. His smirk goes straight to your heart, a reminder that this is the man that you love with your entire heart. The man you’d go to war for. The man that can’t imagine your life without.

“Do you think that there’s a way for-” Echo starts to ask you, but you're cut off by a Corrie captain stopping your squad.

“Where do you think you’re going? The training facility is that way.” The captain tells you with a rather rude tone, making you all turn toward him.

It’s the captain from earlier. The one who told you that the war was over.

“Training facility?” Hunter steps in front of you, clearly confused.

“For a battle simulation.” The captain approaches Hunter. “Admiral Tarkin has requested to see more of your squad in action.”

“Then, we are not being reprimanded?” Tech asks from behind the group now.

“No, you’re being tested. Now go gear up.” The captain moves his helmet in a way to look at you. “Except you. You’re not needed.”

“So, we’re not in trouble, and they want us to fight more?” Wrecker looks downright gleeful, playfully bumping elbows with Tech, who doesn’t look appreciative of it. “Ha! Maybe this Empire thing isn’t so bad after all.”

You follow the guys to the area that’s just below the training facility so that they can gear up and grab weapons. With Echo mentioning Tarkin, you can’t help the bad feeling in your stomach that just seems to get worse.

“You got everything you need?” You ask Crosshair as he looks down at you.

He nods, seemingly distant again, putting his helmet back on. You give his hand a squeeze anyway and he tilts his head at the action, staring down at your hands.

“Good luck.” You smile up at him, anyway.

“We’ve done this hundreds of times.” Crosshair tells you, voice modulated, just making him sound more distant.

“Right. Of course.” You let go of his hand and walk over to Hunter.

“Watch out for him.” You pat him in his plastoid arm piece.

Hunter smiles with a nod and you start to walk past Wrecker who gives you a fist bump as you walk out. You have to trust that everything is going to work out. Everything is changing, you know that. You’re just going to have to change with the times, you suppose.

It’s been a while since you’ve been without the guys breathing down your neck so you decide to go do some investigating. You need to know more about this “Order 66”. Like, why it’s even a thing. Why would they have an order ready to execute all the Jedi?

Making your way to one of the server rooms that you know will be clear of any personnel, you try to get into the brain of Tech, knowing he’d know exactly what to look for and where to look for it.

Pulling up a seat, you try to get into the server, not finding it incredibly difficult. You type “Order 66” and “Execute Jedi” into the search at the top of the large screen. What comes up, confuses you even more.

There’s nothing there. At all. It doesn’t make any sort of sense. No information. No names of Jedi who were executed…

You know that you’re going to need Tech for this.

You clear out the search and start to make your way back toward your barracks, only stopping at the mess hall to grab something quick to eat since you didn’t really get to eat dinner.

You hear your name called, fondly. When you turn, you’re met with brown eyes and orange sun rays.

“Commander.” You smile, widely.

Before your time with the batch, you spent time with the 212th. That’s how you met the Batch. Through Commander Cody.

“How are you?” He asks you as you start walking out of the mess hall with your light snack.

“I’m…” You start but then remember General Kenobi.

Did Cody… He wouldn’t… There’s no way. They were joined at the hip, a mutual respect between the two of them like you’ve never seen with the other generals. Other than Skywalker and his men.

“I-I’m just really tired today. I’ve taken a couple of naps and still feel exhausted…” You try to ignore the nauseous feeling easing its way into your stomach again.

Please don’t throw up… Please don’t fucking throw up…

“It was a long day for sure. But the great news is, the war is over.” Cody smiles.

“Thank the Maker.” You nod as you get ready to turn down the corridor where your barracks are.

Even Cody seems… different. More rigid than usual.

“Indeed.” Cody agrees with a nod. “Tell the boys I said hello.”

“I will.” You nod back and walk back down to your barracks, walking in and sitting in your bunk against the wall.

Don’t think about Kenobi. Or Skywalker. Or Ahsoka Tano. Or or or…

You sit your loaf on a napkin on the crate by your bed, your appetite suddenly gone. All you want to do is lay down again. Deciding to do that, you hear the door swish open.

“Live rounds? They used live rounds! On us!” Wrecker storms in, angrily, bringing his fists down on the table.

“We were there, Wrecker. We know.” Tech sets his kit down on his workstation.

You sit up immediately, looking to Hunter for an explanation. “Live rounds?”

“I tried to warn you about Tarkin.” Echo says, a deep scowl on his face.

You get up and walk over to Wrecker to examine him, instantly unclicking his armor and letting it drop. Echo guides him over to a seat so that you can take a better look.

“Who’s that Imperial snake think he is?” Wrecker grumbles, hitting the table as you pull his shirt up to inspect the blaster shot to his chest.

“Stow it, already. You got shot.” Crosshair says with a stone expression. “It happens all the time.”

Wrecker looks like a kicked puppy and you give Crosshair a glare before turning back around to face Wrecker.

“Echo, grab my kit.” You point over to it by your bed.

Echo goes over to your bed and grabs your kit as Tech starts to argue with Crosshair. “There’s a fundamental difference between taking fire in battle and being used for target practice.”

You nod in agreement, angrily. Tarkin has always been a sketchy sort of guy, from what you’ve heard. You have half a mind to go and give him a piece of yours.

“Exactly! We’re not dummy droids.” Wrecker fires off at Crosshair.

You’ve never seen Wrecker so worked up. It hurts your heart that Crosshair’s being like this, knowing that you still needed to find answers. Making a mental reminder to talk to Tech about it, you’re about to ask Wrecker to take his shirt off when you hear a voice in the doorway.

“That much we can agree on.”

Everyone stops to look at the sinister looking figure in the doorway, standing in between to shock troopers. Tarkin gives Hunter a warning stare sending everyone into attention, backs straight, eyes ahead. Wrecker pushes you away slightly so that he can stand at attention. You refuse. You stare the gray haired governor down. How dare he use your squad as target practice… Wrecker could have been killed! And it wouldn’t have mattered at all to this man.

Hunter catches your eye and gives you a “Be respectful look.” so with a roll of your eyes so hard that they could pop out of your head, you stand at attention as well, in between Wrecker and Crosshair.

“That was quite an impressive display.” Tarkin muses as he steps into the barracks.

“Didn’t have much choice.” Hunter grumbles and you look over at him.

He’s clearly incredibly unhappy with what went down in the training facility. You should’ve been there. You should’ve gone with them… You’re a part of this squad too.

“Our new Empire may have methods that seem a bit unorthodox, but so does this squadron.” Tarkin replies, looking at each man. “Both certainly have their merits.”

It sends your skin crawling, the way he’s looking at them… Like they’re objects… things.

“Nala Se speaks quite highly of her five enhanced clones.” Tarkin stops to look up at Wrecker, his eyes roving over Wrecker like he’s just a thing that can be bought or replaced. “She claims you're more capable than an army.”

The need to give this man a piece of your mind starts to become stronger, but Hunter gives you a warning look, almost as if he could read your thoughts. It’s always been like that… Hunter understands you more than you understand yourself a lot.

Tarkin doesn’t even glance your way, as if you’re invisible.

“You have a mission for us sir?” Hunter asks.

“Indeed. We have tracked a group of insurgents to the Onderon sector. They must be dealt with.” Tarkin approaches Hunter.

“What sort of insurgents?” Echo speaks up.

“Separatist forces intent on keeping the galaxy at war.” Tarkin tells him and you look up at Crosshair, who remains stone cold and expressionless. “If you neutralize this grave threat, you will be looked upon most favorably as I assess the needs of the Imperial Army.”

“You, however, will no longer be needed.” Tarkin turns toward you. “You’re to meet with Mistress Nala Se when this squad leaves. I would say your goodbyes.”

At that, Tarkin nods and walks out of the barracks, leaving you and the Batch quiet.

Saying your goodbyes? You don’t understand… You’ve only been with the Batch a year, but it feels longer… Like you’ve known them your whole life. How could you just leave them?

“Alright. Sit back down.” You guide Wrecker back down to the seat so that you can patch him up.

You can feel all the guys’ eyes on you but you need to focus on the large man in front of you, trying to remember to think before you speak. They’re all at a loss for words like you, probably.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You turn to Echo, briefly, before returning your gaze to Wrecker. “And you too.”

“We… we didn’t think we’d ever have to say goodbye…” Wrecker mumbles, sadly.

You finish patching him up and pat his shoulder lightly, giving him a sympathetic smile and shrug. “We knew this wouldn’t be forever.”

When you turn to look at Crosshair, he’s watching you. But you ignore him and go to pack your bunk up.

“I’m sure I’ll see you guys around.” You shrug.

Unsure of what else to say, you turn back around to face them. Hunter approaches you first and offers his hand. You look down at it for a moment before looking back up at him and then throw your arms around him. He seems startled for a moment but wraps his arms around you as well.

“Thanks for everything, sarge. I’ve learned a lot from you.” You pull away. “From all of you really. Especially you, Tech.”

You smile over at the goggled clone and he looks slightly flustered, giving a nod and then fixing his goggles.

You hug Echo next. He’s more accepting of your reassignment, knowing this is how it is in the military. But Wrecker looks like he’s about to cry. Wrecker doesn’t do well with change, you all know that, so it’s going to be up to the guys to try to help him adjust.

When you look at Crosshair, he just nods. It’s final and definitely a break up. But it doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

“That’s all?” Echo asks him. “A nod?”

“What, do you want to throw her a going away party?” Crosshair rolls his eyes, putting a toothpick between his lips.

“It’s fine. It was never that serious anyway, right?” You shrug, grabbing your pack and then heading over to Tech to shake his hand, knowing he’s not the hugging type.

He squeezes your hand a little longer, though, surprising even you.

“You will be missed.” Tech murmurs.

You smile up at him and nod. “You too.”

When you let go, you head to the doorway, turning to look at them one more time. They all still look at a loss for words, but when you look at Crosshair, he’s sitting on his bunk, rubbing his forehead as if he’s got a headache.

Oh well, not your problem anymore, right?

As you walk down the brightly lit, white corridors, you remember you didn’t even get to tell Tech about what you found. You’ll have to send him a transmission later, if possible. He’d be able to find out more, with or without your help. Not that he needs it anyway.

You try not to think about how much you’re really going to miss the guys. You try not to think about Crosshair and your past together, or Your and Hunter’s late night talks, or Echo’s trust in you to have his back, or Wrecker’s laugh when the two of you would goof off, or Tech’s ability to teach you something new every single day.

This was going to be a huge change. Something you’re not ready or prepared for.

“Do you want to know what I think?” Echo asks Crosshair as they’re in hyperspace on the way to Onderon.

“Don’t care.” Crosshair rolls his eyes.

“I think you love her and you’re afraid to-” Echo starts.

“Shut up and mind your business. Before I make you.” Crosshair points his toothpick at Echo, warning him.

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do?” Echo rolls his eyes.

“Keep talking and you’ll find out.” Crosshair promises him.

“Aren’t you going to stop them?” Tech asks Hunter.

“Huh?” Hunter looks up, deep in thought. “Oh… Both of you shut up.”

Echo and Crosshair listen to their sergeant and quit their bickering. It’s enough that they lost you… but to have in-fighting immediately after you’re gone? And then with Crosshair still acting weird, and the wariness he got from Omega trying to warn him about Kamino changing? It’s just too much for Hunter to handle right now.

“What are we going to do without her?” Wrecker grumbles from the cockpit doorway.

“We can’t think about that right now, Wrecker. We need to focus on the mission.” Hunter sighs from the co-pilot seat. “I know it’s going to be hard, but we have to finish the mission. And then we can figure it out from there. Alright?”

“Okay.” Wrecker mumbles and then goes back to the bunks.

The thing is… he doesn’t know. He never thought this far ahead. Not without you… He doesn’t know how he’s going to manage without your laugh or your smile every day. Or when you remind him that he needs to sleep. Or the way that you always seem to know exactly what he needs and how he knows what you need. The way that you’re both so in sync that it almost scares him…

How is he supposed to carry on like normal? What did they do before you, and why can’t he remember?

When you make your way to Nala Se’s lab, you find the Azi droid from earlier.

“Um, hello.” You wave. “I’m looking for Nala Se, have you seen her by chance?”

“She went to find her medical assistant. She will be back momentarily.” The droid tells you.

“Thanks.” You nod and go to look out the window at the raging seas below.

It’s raining and storming, of course. Nothing new for Kamino, but with all that’s going on, it just feels even more gloomy than usual. Like the sky is maybe a little too caliginous… Like what you feel on the inside without the Batch.

You hear your name behind you and find Nala Se with Omega, who has a look of concern on her face, but when she sees you, the concern fades away and a look of relief takes its place.

“I was told to come find you, by Governor Tarkin.” You tell her.

“Yes, you will no longer be needed with Clone Force 99. I would like to give you the option to either stay here on Kamino and assist me, or you can join the new recruits coming in.” She tells you.

“New recruits?” You ask, confused.

“There will be a new army… of non clone humans. They will need medics as well.” She replies.

You look at Omega momentarily and she shakes her head. You tilt yours, confused.

“Omega, will you go get Taun We please?” She asks the child. “Azi, please assist her and make sure she stays on task.”

“Yes, mistress.” Azi follows Omega to the door.

Omega gives you one last pleading look, which you still don’t understand. But you decide that no matter what, you’re going to figure it out. The Kaminoans have always been secretive about things, but you can’t help but think that this child has something to do with the Batch. Why else would she know who they were?

“I actually forgot some stuff in my barracks, so I’ll be back in a bit.” You lie to Nala Se. “If I run into Taun We, I’ll let her know my decision.”

The Kaminoan woman nods and you head back out and down the corridor to find Omega. And hopefully to also find some answers.

“Pack up their gear and take it to the hangar.” You hear inside your barracks and then see a few troopers entering the room, one of them the Corrie captain from earlier. “You. You’re coming with me.”

You get to the door in time to see the captain trying to grab Omega and the Azi droid trying to stop him.

“Hey, why don’t you pick on someone your own size.” You get his attention in time to punch him in the helmet, a little stupidly, you might add, because pain shoots up your arm instantly.

Ignoring the pain, you jump on the captain’s back trying to get him to let go of Omega, but unfortunately you don’t see the two other troopers come for you. You only feel a jolt of electricity shoot throughout your body, realizing you’ve just been stunned as you drift into unconsciousness, trying desperately to tell Omega to run.

On the way back to Kamino, Hunter paces the Marauder, thinking about what the Empire is doing. He starts thinking about those innocent kids that Tarkin wasn’t even thinking twice about wiping out. He thinks about his argument with Crosshair. He thinks about you. About how it seemed pretty final between you and Crosshair. Would he ever stand a chance with you? It doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is getting you and Omega back, where you’ll be safe. He’ll keep you safe, no matter what it takes.

“I know why you’re really going back.” Crosshair tells Hunter when he’s back by the bunks.

Hunter doesn’t acknowledge him. He doesn’t have to. He knows what Crosshair’s going to say.

“Don’t think I don’t notice the way you look at her.” Crosshair sneers. “Or the way you pine after her like some lovesick pup.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Hunter says, turning to face his brother, leaning against the wall.

Crosshair lets out an unamused laugh. “Don’t worry. I see the way she looks at you too.”

Hunter’s chest tightens. What does Crosshair mean by that?

“I guess since I’m done with her, you’re going to want a turn?” Crosshair continues to try to push Hunter’s buttons.

Hunter’s stare hardens. “You better stop talking, vod.”

Crosshair smirks and walks back up into the cockpit. He was clearly not in his right frame of mind. There’s no way he’d actually ever say that about you, right? Hunter knows that Crosshair loves you. He’s heard the way that the man’s heart picks up when you enter a room. The way that Crosshair smiles at you when he thinks no one is watching. The way that Crosshair’s touch lingers on your body when they’re out in the field.

Crosshair isn’t fooling Hunter and Hunter intends to find out what’s really making him act this way.

“Well, the plan wasn’t a total failure.” You hear Tech’s voice before you open your eyes.

It’s followed by your name murmured by Hunter and then you feel hands on your face.

“Goody…” You hear Crosshair’s voice.

You slowly open your eyes, a little disoriented, and try to sit up, rubbing your head and then remembering what happened. “O-Omega!”

You try to stand up but Hunter pulls you back down, trying to brace you so he can keep you steady.

“She’s here. She’s alright.” Hunter says.

When you look beside you, she waves, smiling sheepishly.

“Where-” You look around, seeing the guys out of their armor, only in their bodysuits and then take notice that you’re in some sort of jail cell.

“I warned you to not come back…” Omega tells Hunter.

“Had to. We were looking for you.” Hunter smiles. “For both of you, actually.”

“Me?” She points at herself, unable to believe it.

“What do you say, kid? You wanna come with us or did we get captured for nothing?” He asks her.

You smile at her as you lean against Hunter, still not quite sure you can stand up just yet.

“You came back for me?” She can’t believe it.

The wonder in her eyes pulls at your heart-strings and then you realize that she wasn’t expecting anyone to come for her and that makes your heart clench.

“That’s right. Or you can stay on Kamino if-” Hunter starts but she cuts him off.

“No, it’s like I said before. I want to go with you.” She insists, standing up.

Hunter helps you stand long enough to sit you down on the bench against the wall.

“How touching.” Crosshair sneers from behind the group with crossed arms.

You all look at him. He somehow doesn’t even look like himself right now. You know that this is him… obviously. But the way that he’s glaring at Hunter… At Omega… It just doesn’t sit well with you.

Hunter glares right back at his brother, looking like he’s prepared for a fight. You rarely see Hunter scowl so deeply.

Wrecker coughs, awkwardly. “Um, Hunter. How are we getting out of here?”

Hunter’s glare doesn’t ease up. “I’m working on it.”

Hunter and Crosshair continue to glare at each other in a way that seems deeper than what’s going on. You look at Crosshair but he refuses to break first.

“You know what you should work on?” Crosshair steps toward Hunter with his finger pointing at the sergeant. “Explaining when you went soft.”

“Stow it, Crosshair.” Echo gives him a gentle push, not letting him get any closer to Hunter.

You stand up, finally, your legs finally feeling a bit stronger, and step in front of Omega, protectively.

“Don’t you see we’re locked up in here because of him? He had us disobey orders.” Crosshair fumes, anger clear on his face for the first time ever.

It worries you to see him like this. You just want the old Crosshair back.

“I never thought you disobeying orders was a problem.” Tech fixes his goggles.

“Yeah. We do it all the time.” Wrecker tries to level with Crosshair, clearly not understanding why his brother is being like this either.

“Good soldiers follow orders!” Crosshair tells his brothers angrily. “Every choice you’ve made since Kaller has been wrong. First, the padawan, then Gerrera. And now…”

He glances at Omega and then you. As if you weren’t worth coming back for. He doesn’t have to say it. You know what he means.

He looks back at Hunter. “You’re becoming a liability.”

“We can debate my choices later. For now, let’s focus on getting outta here.” Hunter tells him, glancing at you to make sure you’re alright.

“There’s that look again. The one you think no one notices.” Crosshair sneers with crossed arms. “Even though it's obvious to everyone.”

Echo, Tech, and Wrecker look between Hunter and Crosshair, prepared to step in if Hunter’s gonna throw a punch. It’s not completely undeserved.

“Stop it.” You step in front of Crosshair, gently pushing him away from the group. “Stop saying things just to be hurtful.”

“I’m only saying things that are true, Princess.” He shrugs, leaning in, voice low. “Besides, like I told him… now that I’m done with you, he can have you.”

This is the first time in a long time that you’ve ever been made to feel so… used… like you didn’t mean anything to him…

With wide, hurt eyes, and anger coursing through your veins, you shove him away from you and go sit on the opposite side of the cell and don’t notice the way he sits down and rubs his temple. You also don’t notice the way that Omega goes to sit next to him. What you do notice is Echo sitting down next to you, placing an arm around your shoulder.

“If… you want me to punch him… just let me know.” Echo murmurs, trying to get you to crack a smile.

It works, obviously, and you can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I may take you up on that just this once.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Hunter tells you from the wall, quietly. You nod to him, not knowing exactly what he means by that. Does he mean what’s going on with Crosshair? Or this new Empire? Or with Omega? Or with… the two of you? Not that there’s really anything to figure out. He’s your best friend. Right?

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#tbb #tbb hunter x reader #tbb crosshair x reader #the bad batch #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair

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