#before you say ‘do what you’re most comfortable with!’ my brother in christ i am not comfortable with Any Of This
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summary: steve is acting weird. avoiding you, being snippy and mean, leaving the room when you enter. all you want is your boyfriend back, but all he wants is to pretend you don't exist. when he's almost hurt on a mission, you do what you're made to do.
word count: 11k
reader specifics: no race/gender/sexuality/body type mentioned, no pronouns for reader used, powered!reader, insecure!reader
warnings: steve is mean to the reader in the beginning, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, canon-level violence, brief ptsd symptoms, slight description of blood, brief mention of racism in the '30s & '40s
brief mentions of: reader's parents being toxic, homelessness, past accidents, ableism in the past & present
note: this one hurt me lmfao. idk why this went the way it did but i'm not mad at it // also i am a queer, trans, disabled american. i have fundamental disagreements with things that marvel/the mcu as it stands for and some of the more nuanced things that you might not notice unless you're looking for it. this will take place in my writing because i cannot separate myself from the lens in which i consume/create content.
title credit: lil nas x
mobile masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3
Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his. Sure - he’s clever, righteous, courteous… You can’t forget he’s also drop-dead gorgeous because every trashy gossip magazine in a three-state radius of New York doesn’t let you forget. Neither does the sight of him waking up in your bed every morning. (Well, actually, maybe that would remind you if he was still fucking doing that.)
But lately, you’ve had to rely on the fucking tabloids to catch a glimpse of your super-hero boyfriend. The university class you had picked up on a whim at the end of the summer - Life & Times of the ‘30s and ‘40s - avoids any mention of Steve Rogers and the Howling Commandos. Not that your classmates do because, Christ on a bike, those magazines manage to catch pictures of you and Steve in moments that you don’t even remember. Plus, you’re an Avenger too. It’s bound to catch some attention when you waltz into a college classroom.
You’re sure if you were an undergrad trying to fill a gen-ed requirement and were sitting next to someone who could kill you without blinking but also dating Captain Rogers you’d be a little distracted too. You try not to blame your classmates too much, but they do make it hard to concentrate with their -really dating Captain America?- and -wonder if I could get an autograph- whispers. None of that matters because you’re learning, really studying, in between missions and missing Steve and believing that maybe the gossip reporters are right.
Maybe he’s forgotten about you.
You grit your teeth and push the thought away. It does you no good right now, while you’re training with Peter. He’s working his way up to bona fide missions and, because you’re the only one on the team who has experience with real-life teenagers outside of saving their lives, it’s up to you to get him to the level that he needs to be. Plus, the mission where he’s going to get his gills wet is just you, Tony, Steve, Nat, and Bucky. You’d much rather be the one to train him because you won’t traumatize him.
Right now, though, you’re just kicking his ass to try and get rid of some of the tension in your body. You feel a little bad about it, but when you started as his mentor you told him point-blank that you’d never go easy on him. That meant if you were having a bad day he either needed to up his game or he’d have a bad day too. It appears he’s taken that to heart as he struggles to dodge the hits you’re throwing his way. He lunges out of the way when you try to land a right hook but practically walks into the leg sweep that sends him crashing to the ground.
“Awe,” Peter groans, letting his guard down. You take the momentary lapse of focus to grab him by the collar of the hoodie he’s wearing and haul him to his feet, jerking one fist back to cold-clock him but he beats you to it. You hear the sound of your nose cracking before you feel it but then the pain rushes you all at once. You’ve had worse but coming from Peter, the move surprises you. You don’t yell out but he does when you push him away from you and call the fight off. Peter practically yelps your name, hands up by his head as he watches you bend at the waist, both hands over where your nose is absolutely gushing blood. “I am so sorry, I just reacted-!”
“It’s fine, Pete,” You shake your head and stand straight again, the blood beginning to leak through your fingers, “Just go get me a towel, okay?” Peter practically trips over his feet to get something for your nose and as you track him on his way into the locker rooms, you see Steve, Bucky, and Nat. The latter are looking your way, eyebrows raised like they’re asking you if you’re okay. Steve hasn’t even broken stride in his conversation so you wave them off with a bloody hand. Peter’s back in a flash, pressing a wet towel into your grasp and snapping you out of your self-pity party. “It was a good hit,” You compliment as you wipe your face off, “I just wasn’t expecting it. Prob’ly wouldn't have landed it if I had.”
He wrings his hands, shifting from foot to foot. “I’m sorry-”
“It’s a good thing, Peter, means you’re getting better.” You deadpan, checking to see if your nose has stopped bleeding yet, “I don’t think you actually broke it, but I’ll go down to medical to check later.” You do your best to clean up your hands with the wet towel, but it’s so soaked with your blood that it mostly just smears it around. You grimace and shake your head. “Well, I should go now before our sparring match ends up looking like I murdered you.”
“I’ll go with,” He offers, “I’m the one who broke your nose.” You let Peter walk you down to medical even though you were originally going to refuse. Perhaps petty, but it was the way that Steve didn’t even look your way as you left that made you let the teenager walk you the two floors to where you’d be able to clean yourself up. He hums in the elevator and you know that he wants to ask you something - it’s the way he holds his mouth when he’s prying for information or keeping a secret that tips you off. Finally, just before the elevator opens, you sigh and turn to him.
“What, Peter?” He grins but then it falls when he has to skitter after you down the hall. Maybe that’s why it falls - the question he asks next nearly sends you to your ass.
“Is everything okay with you and Captain Rogers?” He easily catches up to you when you stop in your tracks, ignoring that you’re still bleeding a little bit down your face and you might be dripping blood everywhere from where it’s run down your arms.
“What?” You do your best to look confused like everything is fine, but Peter is perceptive. He may fumble around and be pretty awkward, but those are really just teenager things that he’ll hopefully outgrow. You should have known that when someone caught onto how bad things are on your end, it would be Peter. (You wonder if Nat or Bucky has brought it up with Steve, considering he’s spent more time with them in the past week than he’s seen you in the past month.) “We’re fine.” Your words are stilted as you begin walking to the medical wing much faster than before.
“I just thought I’d ask, well, because I’ve sort of noticed… Something just seems off, you know? Like, you two used to spend a lot of time together, and maybe it’s the recon mission coming up, but I was just thinking that you two really barely look at each other even when you’re in the same -”
“Peter!” You say his name much louder than either of you expected and both of you jump. “Peter,” You say softer, looking at the glass door to the medical wing instead of him, “Just leave it, okay? It’s nothing you have to worry about, kid.” Peter ducks around to open the door, forcing you to look at him. “He’s just focused on his stuff and I’m focused on getting you whipped into shape for this mission. We only have two days.” Once you’re inside and surrounded by the medical crew Tony keeps on staff, he thankfully drops it. You love Peter, you do, but it’s a lot like having a little brother. You can only love them so much before you want to fucking strangle them. Eventually, as the doctor checks to make sure he hasn’t broken your nose, you have to order him away to go study or something. “I’ll join you later,” You promise him as the doctor prods at your tender flesh, “I have an essay due soon.”
That’s another thing that’s been bugging you that Peter surely picked up on. Nearly everybody knew you were taking a course at the local community college, but nobody knew what it was about. You’d wanted to keep it a secret until you told Steve, but the day you had registered he’d flown out for a two-week mission without telling you or saying goodbye. After that, you decided it didn’t really matter if anyone knew what class you were taking, and keeping it a secret sort of spiraled from there. If they wanted to know they could look it up. Maybe it was petty, but you just wanted the class to be over and done with so you could forget that you really only picked it up so you relate to your boyfriend more.
If you can even call Steve your boyfriend anymore. You’re not so sure where you stand and, honestly, you’re really close to giving up on the relationship as a whole but you can’t do that. Before you were dating, you were friends, and Steve… He never gave up on you. Not once. How could you repay him by giving up on your relationship? The one that you thought was The One? Even if it hurts, even if you’re unsure more than sure these days, how could you? Somewhere, though, you know you deserve better. You don’t deserve the sinking, dark feeling that lingers in your gut for most of your days now or the way that you second-guess every move you make - even in the field. It’s dangerous but you can’t do anything to fix it.
You’re too scared. You know that eventually, it will happen, he’ll break up with you, but you’d like to put that day off for as long as possible. To relish in the love he once had for you, how pure and powerful it was. You’re sure that you’ll never experience anything like that again.
Hell, you might never fall in love again.
Those thoughts don’t do anything to help you, though, so you try not to have them. You get clearance from the doctor and get cleaned up as much as you can without taking a full body shower. The idea to go back to your room and take one crosses your mind but you know that Steve’s probably done training, probably heading back for his own shower, and you don’t want to open that can of worms. Instead, you go to the common room and drop into the couch between Peter and Tony. They’re talking about something something science something something, but you pull your stack of books and notebooks out from the shelf underneath the coffee table and continue outlining your essay from where you left off. The assignment was focused on how the end of WW1 changed American life and then how life changed leading up to and during WW2 but that had hit a little too close to home for you, so you’re writing about the racial tension and overall racism of the times. Tony and Peter keep talking over your back and then you hear footsteps heading toward the common room.
You barely look up when they enter - Nat and Bucky - because it’s fine. It’s normal. They’re just two of Steve’s best friends, that’s all, nothing to be jumpy about. You don’t even register that emotional pain that hits when you realize that, yeah, you’re not one of his best friends anymore. You doubt you’re even considered a friend in his book.
You groan and lean back into the couch, bringing your study materials with you. Peter glances over, skimming over your page and a half of shorthand, and gags. “Jesus, can you write like a normal person?”
“Oh, sorry,” You say lazily, not looking up as you continue to scribble in your incomprehensible code, “I do forget that some of us had privacy at home.” You lift your lips just a little bit to let Peter know you’re kidding, looking up at him through your lashes as you slouch next to him. He looks red in the face. “Besides, once you have to start doing mission reports you’ll be begging me to learn my shorthand and use my stenography machine.”
“I keep telling you that I can update that ol’ thing,” Tony draws your attention. For the first time, you realize that Nat and Bucky are on the loveseat looking at you expectantly. Steve is standing in the corner over their shoulder reading a book from the bookshelf in front of him. His back is tense and he looks like he’s not reading, just listening. You force your eyes back to Tony on your right and shake your head.
“No, because then you’d know my shorthand and it makes me too happy to see you spend hours trying to decipher it.” His eyes wander to your essay again, trying to find any patterns that he can use to figure out what the hell you’re writing on anything ever. He’s opening his mouth to make a smart-ass remark that will no doubt lift some of the weight off of your shoulders when another voice speaks up.
“Wow,” Steve doesn’t even look at you even as he says your name sardonically, “Way to be a team player.” Your mind comes to a screeching halt, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s playing at. Even Bucky and Nat look surprised at the cold way he spoke to you, Tony and Peter both gasping from your side. You can’t say anything, throat tight and burning with tears as you stare at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows. What do you say to that? How do you respond? You know it wasn’t a joke because he’s not laughing, not smiling, not even looking up from that fucking book in his hands. You can’t tell if you’re more hurt or embarrassed, but either way, you don’t want to stick around for someone to get the nerve to say something.
Instead of replying, you slam your textbooks shut and bundle everything into your arms. You doubt Steve even notices that you’re making such a hasty retreat but if he does, he doesn’t say a fucking thing. You feel like you’re in high school - practically running through an empty hallway with your notebooks and textbooks pressed to your chest, trying not to cry. It’s ridiculous. You’re a trained assassin, you’re an Avenger, you are strong and powerful and yet… And yet. You’ve given so much of your heart and soul to Steve Rogers that he can knock you down eight pegs without even trying. Without even looking at you. You can’t wait to go on this fucking recon mission, where you can put all of your focus on making sure Peter is doing okay and gathering the intel. Where you can stop thinking about how easily Steve Rogers seems to be pushing you to the side.
You spend the next two days writing your essay, ignoring almost everyone, and working on your essay. On the day of the recon mission, you’re running out the door for your eight a.m lecture, printed essay in hand, and reminding Tony that he promised to pick you up on campus after class for the mission.
You’re lucky that you went, too. You hadn’t counted on the professor making everyone stand up and tell the class the subject of their essays - didn’t realize that it would be twenty-five percent of the grade on the paper. You’ll never understand college professors and the weird shit they do, but the class is informative and entertaining. He goes around the room, starting on the opposite side of you, so you’ll be last. Great.
Several students did their papers on the propaganda of the time, one student was brave and did her essay on the ethical dilemma of the super-soldier serum and eugenics, and most of the other students focused on pop culture and how it changed. When your professor looks at you it’s almost like he’s expecting you to have done nothing but fawn over Steve and Bucky, considering you know them personally. He looks surprised when you clear your throat, stand and say: “I focused on the casual and institutional racism that faced non-white Americans at the time.” You almost preen when he looks impressed and then the shame fills you. It’s just… You want Steve to be proud of you. You want him to congratulate you on going back to school, even if it’s just for one class. You want him to be happy and surprised that he was the inspiration for taking the class.
Though, lately, the class has been more for you than for him. You like learning new things, pushing the boundaries of assignments, making people uncomfortable with the truth of the times you’re studying as told to you by two people who lived it. It’s nice. Normal.
Everyone needs a little bit of normal.
But, honestly, normal is fucking boring. By the time your class is over and you’re handing in your essay it’s like ants are crawling over your skin. A combination of nerves from the upcoming mission, a head full of fog from whatever is happening with Steve, and a little bit of fear at the thought of taking Peter into the field has you bolting for the door the moment your essay is taken from you. You’d worn your tac-suit underneath a pair of baggy sweats and a loose hoodie, so you don’t even bother slowing down as you head toward the car that Tony has waiting for you. He’s in the front seat, grinning at you from underneath his aviators and Peter is driving.
You slip into the backseat without thinking or looking at who’s there, tossing your bag in the back and peeling your hoodie off. “God, Tone, we’re goin’ to die before we even get to the mission with Petey driving.” You toss your hoodie back to join your bag and finally see who’s sitting next to you.
Of course, it’s Steve. He’s looking at you - but not really. He’s looking through you, like he can’t stand that you’re both crammed in the backseat of Tony’s electric car. His gaze catches you and holds you in place. Everything around you goes cold and fuzzy, making you miss Peter’s indignant complaining that he has his license so he should be able to drive… And then Steve scoffs and looks out his window, ignoring you. It stings but you have a job to do. You make some witty retort back to Peter, but it falls flat as you struggle out of your sweats. This is what life is, you think. Relationships aren’t meant to be forever - you learned that at a young age.
Until your accident at fifteen, you had watched your parents run out of helium, their relationship expanding and cooling in arguments, in days spent not talking, in trips to your grandparents without the other, in passive-aggressive computer searches for divorce attorneys left open for anyone to see. Then, after you were trapped between those machines - after you spent hour after agonizing hour with electricity pressing between your atoms, being torn apart and rebuilt as a young god - after that day you watched them expand against each other before the neutron core of their relationship collapsed on itself and the resulting supernova sent you to the streets. But then Fury found you. Then Tony, then Nat, then Steve.
Your parents exploded out from each other and the shockwaves ruined your life. At least now, your relationship with Steve is ending silently. There’s no explosion, no collapse, no rapid expansion to take over your cosmos. Your relationship with Steve is simply approaching the event horizon, where it will hang in the air until one of you takes the final step and you both become frozen, two collapsing objects on opposite sides of the universe. Maybe that’s what you already are. You feel so far away from him in the back of Tony’s car - like he’s eons and light-years away from you - and you feel so cold. Frozen, down to the bone. It makes you stiff in your replies to Tony and Peter, slow on the uptake when the car pulls up to the quinjet, nearing stasis and unable to respond when Nat asks if you’re okay.
Finally, you turn to look at her, nodding. “Fine,” You clear your throat, “Been a rough day.” You do your best to smile at her, but your face feels heavy. Your chest feels cold and tight, making you worry about your performance on the upcoming mission. When Peter shakes his head next to you, discreetly telling Nat not to press, you’re focused on Steve and the electricity humming in the most base part of your body.
He scoffs and rolls his eyes. You turn away and force yourself to smile, throwing a weak and numb arm over Peter’s shoulders. “Are you ready for this, Pete?” You jostle him back and forth, leading him toward the sitting area behind the cockpit. “Gonna get your ass kicked?”
“Please,” He shoves you off, nervously laughing, “Not with the skills you’ve taught me.” He mimics throwing webs, making hissing noises under his breath, and you bark out a laugh, shaking your head.
“You’re payin’ my medical bills when I have to save your ass, Spidey.” You shake your head and strap in next to the wall, Peter taking the seat to your right. Tony, from the aisle across from you, points a thick finger your way.
“You don’t pay medical bills anymore,” He waggles his finger, “So you’ll just have to make him do your homework for a week.”
“Mister Stark!”
“He’ll have to earn shorthand to do your essays,” Nat chimes in from between Bucky and Steve, who are both doing their best to not look at you - or anyone really. “You willing to share that with him?”
You lean back in your seat and jab at Peter with your elbow. “Hell no, so I guess Spider-Boy better do his best.” The arachnid in question grumbles, crossing his arms and slouching in his seat.
“No pressure, right?” He complains, “Not like I’m already nervous or anything.”
“You’ll do fine, kid,” Bucky pipes up, drawing your eyes back to Steve, “It’s goin’ to be a cakewalk.”
“Don’t jinx it, Barnes,” You warn half-heartedly, tucking in on yourself, “We need this to be easy.” From the look on his face - everyone’s face, really - you know that they heard you loud and clear when you were really saying I need this to be easy.
After an uneasy laugh from Bucky, a claustrophobic silence settles over you all as the jet begins to take off. You’re in for an hour ride and plan to spend it going over battle plans with Peter when harsh whispering catches your ear. It’s Bucky and Steve nearly crushing Nat between them until she gets up and sits across from Peter, rolling her eyes. Still, you try your best to run him through the actions you both had planned - the names, the setups you needed to execute them, everything. If something happens to Peter, you’ll never forgive yourself.
And then, cutting through your soft promptings to Peter and his equally soft replies, Bucky’s voice. “Leave it, Steve. Until after this mission.” Even Tony looks up from his tablet, curiosity piqued. Their faces are both red, set hard and angry at each other and your stomach drops. What the hell is going on that Steve ‘Till The End Of The Line Rogers is fighting with Bucky You And Me, Pal Barnes? You must shift, or lean too far into Steve’s eyesight, because for the first time in what feels like years he is looking directly at you - and seeing you, too. It makes your pulse jump and, almost instinctively, you want to reach out and ground yourself on the rubber of the seat underneath you.
You don’t get the chance, though, because Steve speaks. “No, why should I? This is clearly affecting the team.” He’s still looking - glaring - at you like you’ve done something wrong. “What’s the point of waiting? I’ve been waiting to talk about this.”
“Bo, I don’t think this is the time,” Bucky looks over his shoulder at you, then, and you know what’s coming. You know that it’s time, that Steve is about to break up with you in front of your teammates. Your friends. Your family. You steel yourself for the anguish you’re about to feel and then jerk your chin out, hardening your resolve.
“Buck, it’s fine. If Steve wants to address something, he can.”
Natasha says your name, a low warning over the hum of the quinjet. “I think he should wait.”
“Well, I’m not goin’ to wait!” Steve unbuckles himself and stands, “I have tried waiting, and look at where that has gotten me.” He puts his hands on his hips and puffs out a breath. You unbuckle and stand, too, unsure of where this is going. “You need to,” He holds one hand out, pointing at you while his voice shakes. You notice his hand is shaking, too, but fractionally. If you didn’t know Steve as well as you do you may have never noticed it. “You need to get it together.”
“I need to get it together?” You question, eyebrows nearly hitting the ceiling with how fast they shoot up. You’re not totally sure you’ve heard him right because what do you have to get together? The broken shards of your relationship? The information and research for your final paper? The awful way you’ve let yourself be treated for what seems like forever?
“You heard me,” Steve says, at the same time Bucky leans his head back and groans deep in his chest. “What? Someone had to say it.”
“We should wait for this,” Nat speaks up again, but lifelessly. She knows now that you and Steve are both on the warpath, neither of you are going to stop. (That’s also why the two of you work together as a couple so well. Very rarely are you both so worked up about something that you can’t back down, so the other is always there to meet you halfway and get you back to earth.)
“No, no, no,” You say, near hysterically, “No, he wants to do this now? Before a mission? Instead of the fuckin’ weeks we had to hash whatever crawled up his ass and died out? Be my guest. He’s already dragged everyone into this by treating me like a pariah.” You’re not sneering, but your teeth are gritted so tightly together you can hear them scraping and feel a tension headache beginning to bloom in your temples. Bucky looks… Almost incredulous at your statement. Like putting the blame on Steve is a dick move or something.
“Oh, so I’m the bad guy here?” Steve is curling his lip, glaring at you. There’s something behind his eyes, but he’s buried it so deep that you can’t reach it and figure out what it is. “I’m the bad guy, right. Right, right, right.” He scoffs, shakes his head, and then he’s running his fingers through his hair like he really can’t believe what you’re saying to him.
“Well, what else am I supposed to think?” You throw your hands out to the side and let them slap back down on your thighs. “You ignore me, you make me feel like shit, you talk down to me like I’m some insignificant foot soldier. How else am I supposed to take that, Steve?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe ask me what’s wrong? Maybe ask me why I’m acting like this, instead of ignoring all of your problems like a child?” He mirrors your moments, but the sound his hands make when they hit the outside of his suit is more powerful than yours. Fueled by anger, you think. Anger and whatever the hell was in the serum Erskine pumped into Steve.
“Ask you?” You repeat, near-hysterical, “Ask you? Oh yeah, let me get right on that. Hey, Mister Rogers? Mister Captain America? Mister Ignores-His-Partner-For-God-Knows-Why? Hey, just why are you doin’ that?” You’re surprised that you’ve said something so snotty, but you don’t back down. (Steve looks surprised, too, and Bucky has stood up next to his friend like he’s about to start berating you as well. At least he looks more cautious about it, like he’s not totally sure that this fight should be happening.)
The more surprising part of your fight is how fast it’s shut down. Tony and Nat stand at the same time and exchange a glance like they’ve surprised each other. “That’s enough,” Tony starts.
Nat cuts him off. “I don’t care if you fight this one out instead of talking, but if you do it before this recon mission you two are going to blow it. Do you understand me?” She looks dangerous, the sharp edge of a knife spiraling through the air. You force yourself to look away from her, from Tony, from Bucky, from Steve. She’s right. You know she’s right - especially on this mission. Peter is there, going to be in real danger even though there’s not supposed to be one Hydra agent in a four-mile radius. You have to clear your mind and focus on protecting him.
Steve seems to think the same thing because he stands down. When you watch him collapse in on himself, Bucky’s arms around his shoulders, into the little quinjet seats your everything aches. Heart, lungs, eyes - everything. Even though you don’t know what’s going on, what could have possibly happened to make your relationship sink this quickly and out of the blue, you still love him. He’s still The One for you. You still want to be the one to comfort him and make him feel whole when he’s struggling.
But you can’t. You can’t and it kills you.
The heat of battle makes a lot of things fade into the background. Important things like why the fuck are there Hydra agents here? and Steve is going to break up with you when you get back on the jet and Tony swore on the fucking limited edition AC/DC vintage tour poster he has in his office that this would be an easy in/easy out information mission. None of that matters, though, because you’re in deep shit. There are seventeen of them, all primed to the teeth with weapons made to take your team down permanently.
You’re practically glued to Peter, calling out commands and plans for him to initiate. It’s when all of your plans fall through that you take a hit from a heavy fist on purpose, hitting the ground hard. “Plan F, Spidey, Plan F!” You cover the instruction with a groan and then you’re back on your feet, working your way toward him.
“Plan F?” Tony says, somewhere above you in his suit. Your comms crackle ominously as another heat-seeking grenade is launched, interfering with the radio waves your tech relies on. You don’t worry about it, because you know Tony is on it. He’s your eyes in the sky.
Peter is the one who answers his question, watching your close hand-to-hand tilt out of your favor briefly. “Plan Fuck It, Mister Stark.” He grunts as he webs up a Hydra agent, jerking him away from where he was about to slip a knife up and under Natasha’s kevlar. You finally drop the guy in front of you, ignoring Steve’s disappointed Language! and toss one of your knives toward Nat for her to use. Tony is still laughing in your ear, wheezing as he drops down and snags the rifle from one of the snipers and then takes back off.
What your little protégé failed to mention about Plan F is that it’s not just chaos, but controlled chaos. You let loose, letting a soft current cover every inch of your skin as Peter switches to his conductive webbing and takes special care to not web any of his allies. Except for you - if you’re in the way and he catches you in a web it doesn’t matter because you’re you, alive with electricity that drops the men that get caught in the web, too. You rip out of the webs and turn the current off when one of your teammates gets too close.
More Hydra agents are pouring out of the woods, topping out their numbers around twenty-five. That’s twenty-five too many in your opinion, especially when you can see Peter getting tired, his anxiety spiking, his moves having more and more hesitation behind them. You need to get this over with quickly, but you don’t have the options to do that. Steve, Bucky, and Nat are really the heavy-hitters - you, Pete, and Tony are the only ones without serums despite all of your individual abilities. Desperately you reach out for a web that’s still connected to Peter’s arms, pulling him out of the way of a baton that’s about to come down on the back of his neck.
The baton the agent is wielding glints in the coming dusk, freezing you as Peter scrambles past you with a quick apology. You’ve seen that before - seen it, felt it, know it like the back of your hand. There’s no way that you could ever forget that weapon. The man stumbles when his hit doesn’t connect but then rights himself and searches for a new target.
A long, black baton that splits into two prongs at the end is heavy in his hand. Electricity crackles between the bulbs at the end, flashing in the setting sun and your memories. The man only has one, but if it was hooked up to a machine, spinning. If there were four, five, six. If you were pinned between them, screaming in the pain as they rewrote your DNA… You’ve only felt it once, but you’ll never forget it.
And now, you’ll taste it again. On purpose this time. The man holding the stun baton is going for Steve’s back - his strong back, the one that protects people, the one that holds the weight of the world, the one that lays in your bed, the one you see whipping out of rooms as you’re entering just so that he doesn’t have to look at you - and you can’t let that happen. It only takes ten amps to kill a regular human, but you know those things are cranked up to twenty minimum. You don’t want to see how many amps of current it will take to stop Steve’s heart. You’re between the baton and Steve before you can think about what you’re doing or what comes next, the hard bulbs settling unyielding into your side and cranking out maximum power for maximum damage as soon as the current is connected and able to flow from one bulb to the other.
The pain hits you and your throat catches on it. It burns through your body, setting everything on fire - your chest hurts as your heart protests the electrons and then your powers kick in, sweeping them into your very atoms and cells. You’re a live wire now, ears humming and body thrumming with power you’ve only dreamed of. It hurts, and it burns, and you feel tears rising in your eyes because you’re back there - back begging for death or for life or for God and god at the same time - but then it’s over. The man sees that you’re not seizing up, not dropping dead in front of him, and he takes three steps back.
It’s not far enough.
You’ve only felt like this once before - right after you were unhooked from the machine that changed your life and brought you to your new family. You remember how you looked when you were put in front of a mirror with all of the pent up electricity circling your body - how your eyes were filled to the brim and dripping with bright and blue electricity, the way it was jumping across your body, how you didn’t need to breathe because your body was fully saturated with pure, unadulterated power. You wonder if you look like that now and assume you do because you can see the bright blue reflecting in the terrified eyes of the Hydra agent.
Your suit, unlike everyone else’s, is not grounded. It’s metal, metal, metal. You’re made to conduct, born for it, and the earth beneath you comes alive with bright white as you release all of the energy, the power, surges down and out. You’re practiced. You can reach out and feel the synapses and neurons of every human being in the clearing, know exactly where your teammates are standing, and know exactly how to target everything but them and the pitiful amount of electricity their brains carry. You grin, something truly feral and unhinged, and you can see the fear in the Hydra agent. Then, you let go.
You know that everyone is going to be pissed. (Maybe not everyone.) You’re not built for this, not made to take down nearly twenty fucking people at once. As you let go, you feel what they feel. The seizing muscles, the stopping of their hearts, the inside of their bodies crisping against their bones. At that moment, that delicious moment, you see the universe.
You become God. You become everything - your mother and your father and God and god and anyone else who’s watching your life from the ether. You become the judge, jury, and executioner of souls that you don’t know from Adam. You become lightning, and thunder, and exposed nerves of the cosmos at the same time. The world bends to your will and you relish in it, taking that power in your fist and wielding it to protect the man you’ll love for the rest of your life and the family that you’ve made. You will stop at nothing to end this, even if it means turning yourself inside out to do it.
You damn near do turn yourself inside out too, but that doesn’t matter, does it? The blood spilling from your ears, nose, and eyes feels like heaven. It’s hot, and thick, and it’s proof of the power that your body holds. You’re a temple and a sanctuary, a war-room and a bunker, a field of flowers and a sun-dry desert. It does not matter if Steve doesn’t love you at that moment, because you are love and hate wrapped into one package. You are everything and nothing, spread thin at the beginning and the end of time.
And then none of that is true. You are just… You. Standing in a clearing, surrounded by twenty-something dead Hydra agents and your terrified, terrified family. It hurts to breathe and you can taste blood in your mouth, but that’s an afterthought. Steve is still standing behind you, but he is alive. That is what matters.
This is what love is, you think.
Pain and pleasure.
Even if he leaves you, you will always love him.
Pain and pleasure.
You’re weak at the knees when he finally turns to see you - and you’re a sight. Struggling to stand, fingertips blackened with soot but not burnt, blood pouring from your nose, ears, eyes… You look like death, but you feel like life. Someone says something behind you - Peter, maybe? Or maybe Tony, in your comms? - but you don’t hear it. Everything tunnels out, your weak knees finally collapsing as you keel backward.
Steve bears down upon you almost immediately. You’re halfway to unconsciousness when he wraps you up in his arms, keeping you from falling in with the pile of bodies around you. He’s saying your name, harsh and soft and then in a voice like he’s ordering you to wake up. You loll about as he drops you down onto a patch of clear grass, hands searching your body for wounds. When he skims over your side, where the baton has burnt through your suit and your flesh, you surge back toward being able to have cohesive thoughts. The pain brings you back, hands wrapping around Steve’s arm and calling out his name. “Steve! Fuck, that hurts!”
“Honey,” He breathes, “Fuck, we have to get you back to the jet.” His jaw ticks, hair dirty and loose from its normal style. “Why’d you do that?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer from you, ordering Peter to web something up to carry you over your protests.
“I’m fine,” You argue, only slurring slightly, “I feel fine.” But you’re going to let Nat and Bucky load you up on the webbed stretcher anyway because it’s the first time Steve has cared for you in a long time. You want to relish in this moment, the way that he didn't say your name but called you honey.
Well, and because Natasha slides a thumb across her neck over Steve’s shoulder in a silent threat.
You groan when Bucky accidentally grabs your calf where there is an absolutely awful stab wound, but you wave off his apology. “How could you have known?” To be honest, you hadn’t even known it was there until his Vibranium hand was slipping against it and sending shockwaves of pain through you. Peter is next to you the whole time that you’re being carried back to the jet - Tony staying back to begin scanning the bodies of the Hydra agents for the information you need and any other information they may be carrying. The poor kid is nearly at a breakdown, so you reach out to him and shake his arm when his fingers twine with yours. “Chill out, kid, I don’t know how you got it into your head that this is your fault, but it sure isn’t.” He sniffles, but hands back with Steve as Bucky and Nat get you situated in the small medical room of the jet. They transfer you and then make to leave, only Bucky hesitating near the door.
“Stevie’s goin’ to be here soon and… I don’t know what made you do what you did but you have’t explain it to him. He’s bendin’ over backwards to figure it out, and we don’t have’a clue. Came out’a nowhere.” He looks at you for another moment before shaking his head and stepping out of the room. Your head is spinning, partially from what Bucky just said and partially from the pain and stimulus of electricity. You wait there, then, because this is it. This is the event horizon. You wait there, eyes closed, until you hear footsteps approach the med room, and then the door slowly opens. Steve says your name, holding all the finality and weight of an atomic bomb. You don’t open your eyes until he swings a chair next to the stretcher and lays a hand on your calf.
“You don’t have to do this,” You finally say, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. “I know that you don’t want to.” Steve only scoffs and begins to wash the stab wound using a packet of soap and a water bottle. You say his name twice before he looks at you, something between hate and hurt curdling into a glaze over his eyes that stops you in your tracks.
“Just let me do this. It is the least that you can do.” His words are painful and stilted, like it’s taking force to push them past his teeth. You lay back down and close your eyes, content to just feel the pain of Steve beginning to stitch you up and then dress the wound before you feel the pain of Steve leaving you like you knew he always would. (Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his.)
When he’s done he sits back and puts his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He heaves a heavy sigh and then shakes it off, “I’ll dress your burn, and then we’ll talk.” And normally, yes, you would agree but this is too important. You want to get it over with so you can lick your wounds metaphorically and dress them literally - and then you want to go home, you want to pack your bags, and you want to disappear and remake your life somewhere else.
Some far-off place where everyone you know won’t take one look at your face and know that you’re still painfully, deeply in love with Steve Rogers, end of your semester be damned. Family you’ve made be damned. You can’t sit around and be in love with him like a neon sign on a dark highway while it’s painfully clear that he hasn’t had a sign on his highway in a long time.
So instead of agreeing, you swing your legs over the stretcher and swallow your flinch when the burn pulls tight. Steve opens his mouth to argue but you give him a tight-lipped shake of your head and his jaw snaps shut. “No,” You say, voice not giving in to the emotion swirling in your chest. “I have let this go on long enough.”
It’s the wrong thing to say because Steve fucking scoffs again and looks away from you. “One day was long enough.” He says, cutting straight to your core. Okay, ouch. You take a deep breath and shake your head to try and bite back the tears that are inevitably rising in your eyes. If one day was long enough for him to realize he doesn’t want to be with you, why did he let it go on for nearly a full year? Why did he spend so long leading you on, pulling you by a thread before garroting your heart with it? What was the point?
“If you want to leave me, just say that,” You reply harshly, standing and wobbling away from him. He just watches you go, watches the way you struggle past the lead weights your muscles have become, the way you’re starting to feel the stab wound on your leg, the way the skin on your burn is beginning to blister and only just now losing its heat. He just watches you, where the Steve that loved you once upon a time might have helped. You turn your back on him, hands on your hips so that you can hide the way that you’re crying and your hands are shaking.
“If I want to leave you? If?” He says. You hear the scrape of his chair as he stands, “I think after what you’ve done, it’s not an if, sweetheart.” The way he says it tastes like iron. Steve never calls you sweetheart like he never calls you by your name. It’s always honey, lover, dovie. You don’t turn to face him because you’re struggling to keep yourself above water. “I spent so long thinkin’, wonderin’, askin’ myself - God damnit, will you look at me?” You turn slowly, not because you’ve never heard Steve speak like that but because his voice is desperate and raw. When you turn, you’re not sure what to expect. Maybe him, standing in front of you, broad-shouldered and disappointed like in those PSA’s he had to film once. Maybe he’d be angry, hands clenched at his sides and eyes narrowed like he gets in meetings when he doesn’t agree with something but he’s out-voted. But you never expect to see him crying, lip wobbling, folded in on himself like a young boy instead of the strong, invincible man you’ve come to love.
He looks so different.
It hits you, then, that you’re not looking at Steve Rogers. Not really. He's not Steve Rogers, not Captain America, not even Captain Rogers. You see him as he was - before America spat it’s untruths all over him and injected him with a serum that changed who he was, is, will be. He’s not the able-bodied man that you know, not strong and unreachable, not the heartthrob that overshadows the team during press events. He’s not America’s Darling, not really. Not where it counts.
You’re looking at Stevie Rogers. Stevie Rogers who, for all intents and purposes, was supposed to die before he made it out of toddlerhood or soon thereafter. Stevie Rogers who the doctors said wasn’t supposed to survive. Stevie Rogers who grew up sickly, rattling painful breaths and never playing ball with the neighborhood boys. Who couldn’t walk until middle school when he got his braces off. Who never had a partner because Bucky, strong and handsome and tall Bucky, was always deemed the better option. Who believed in his country so much that he tried to sneak into the second world war, subjected himself to a painful medical procedure so that he could change his very DNA to be what the world wanted him to be.
Captain Steve Rogers. Captain America. Strong, blond, patriotic, resilient.
You’re sure that if men don’t want to go to therapy now, in the modern age, they certainly didn’t want to go in the ‘40s. So where did that leave Steve, your Steve, standing in front of you and looking small, and broken, and sad, and alone? Did they expect him to take his new, taller, working body and run with it? Did they not think about how he would lose a part of himself in the process? How did they expect him to go from disabled to abled without some disconnect?
You think about the You That You Were Before and the You That You Are Now, and how you lost a part of yourself when the accident gave you your powers and how you’d lose yourself if someone figured out a way to take them away. You Before formed your identity around being normal - living in a shitty home with shitty parents, sure, but normal - and You Now form your identity around your powers, your team, your job, your love. If you lost those things, what did you have left? Who would you be?
When Steve lost his identity and became everything that America wanted everyone to think that America was, what did he have left? Sure, he could tell himself that he represents America - strong and patriotic and just - but it must have conflicted with everything he knew about himself before that. You know that disabled people now know that American society is unjust, unfit for them with abled people not willing to make room to allow them to thrive. You can only imagine what it was really like for Steve in the ‘20s and ‘30s and ‘40s. What he had to do just to survive. (Medical experimentation, you remind yourself. Did they know it wouldn’t kill him? Did they know his body wouldn’t rip itself apart with the new sinewy muscle they were packing on? Did they care? Or was he just a body they saw as broken? A project to fix? To turn him into something more like them and call it patriotism?)
You shake your head at him, still filled with despair, and try to figure out what he’s talking about. “Stevie,” You start, pet name easily replacing what you had been calling him because it’s not fair to shoe-horn him into a body that doesn’t feel like his own. You wonder if he still expects the bone-grinding pain that he used to tell you would happen when it rains. He raises a hand, a strong and family hand, shaking his head.
“I just need to know why I wasn’t enough for you,” Steve looks sad, slouching in on himself like he’s expecting to get his ass handed to him in another alleyway and hope Bucky is there to save him. “I need to know why you wouldn’t just break up with me if you wanted to see other people so badly.” You suck in a shocked breath because, okay, that’s not what you were expecting. Between that and the paradigm shift you’ve had on how Steve must view his identity, body, and self, you’re stunned. Steve continues like he doesn’t even register that you look shocked and pale and now you’re crying because he thinks you’re cheating on him? “And I get it. I get it. You have no idea how much I understand. If I were you, I wouldn’t want me either, okay?”
You cut him off there because what the actual God damn fuck is he talking about? “No, Stevie, I’m not cheating on you.” You shake your head again and this, your statement, lights a fire in him. He still looks like Stevie rather than Steve, but there’s anger there. You imagine that’s what it might have looked like moments before he got himself in trouble back before he was serumed. “I’m not.”
“Oh, yeah?” He challenges, jaw ticking and chin jerking up, “Oh, yeah? You can’t lie to me. I know, okay? The act is up, it’s over, I know, okay? You can stop pretending.”
“Steve, I do not fucking know what you’re talking about but I”m not cheating on you!” You raise your voice, not really angry but more out of necessity. You need to get it out of his head that he is anything less than everything you want - that you could possibly love anyone more than you love him.
“I wanted to clarify something for you,” Steve says like he’s reading an old script from when he was just a beefy, red/white/blue stage prop for the American military, “I am excited to meet with you, but there are some rules. Do not talk about Captain Steve Rogers. I don’t want to hear about him,” As he continues to recite something that has clearly hurt him, you go lax. You know exactly what’s happened - your fists unclench, your jaw drops a little bit, and it feels like someone has gutted you, “I think it is wise to keep work and pleasure separate, and it’s a rule I will enforce heavily. I look forward to seeing you again.” He’s sneering at the end, tears falling down his ruddy cheeks.
“Steve,” You try again, but he cuts you off.
“Am I just work for you?” His voice is shaking more than you thought possible, and so are his hands. You’ve never seen Steve so off-kilter, so thrown, and it breaks your heart that yes, technically, you’re the cause of this. Before this, before this horrible misunderstanding, your relationship with Steve was the paragon of trust so neither of you cared if the other read emails or texts. You remember the email - the email from your fucking college professor - because it had made you so angry that he’d referred to your relationship with Steve as something as simple and base as just pleasure - like you could even put words to the galaxy of a relationship you had with Steve - that you’d gone to the gym to work off some of that irritation. You hadn’t wanted to take it out on anyone accidentally. When you came back from the gym, Steve was gone on that two-week mission that he’d left on without saying goodbye.
Oh, God. You feel sick to your stomach as the paradigm of the way that Steve’s been treating you shifts violently to the left. You have to physically hold yourself up and try to speak past the lump in your throat. Steve looks… Brokenly smug. Like he knows he’s right, but he’d rather gnaw his own legs off than be right.
“No,” You croak, “No, Steve, you’ve got it all wrong.” You want to reach for him, but it feels like the room is closing in on you. You’re second-guessing everything now - especially what you’ve just said. How many people said the exact same thing to him pre-serum because they said something meant for Bucky to him? How many times did he hear that when he was getting a new diagnosis, hoping for the best? How many times had his own mother said it to him when he told her something someone had said, fresh-faced and not yet used to the way that abled people sometimes treated disabled people? You think you might be sick. “That email was from my professor, Steve. I’m not cheating on you, I’d never.” He laughs darkly and sits back down in his chair, head in his hands again. You try to gather the strength to move toward him when you see his shoulders shaking, a telltale sign that he’s crying.
“A professor,” He says with a watery laugh, “Right.”
Finally, you realize that he needs you, needs to know you love him, that you’d do anything for him. You can iron out the kinks later - figure out why he didn’t want to come to talk to you past the original hurt, why he treated you so coldly, why he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t do this to him - but now, you need to show him that you’re here. That you choose him. That you’ll always choose him.
You make your way to him and set a shaking hand on his shoulder. For a brief second you think he’s going to shake you off but then Steve’s hand shoots up and latches onto where your hand is resting, dipping his head to press against your arm. “Stevie, please,” You say, unsure of what you’re asking him to do, “I picked up a class, just one, and it’s… I picked it up for you, it’s about the ‘30s and ‘40s and…” He looks up at you and he looks so broken - face ruddy and wet with tears, lip wobbling, chest heaving as he tries to not sob. His brows are knit and he looks confused, “I just wanted to be able to understand you better. You had to leave so much of yourself at the door when you joined the Avengers, had to leave so much of yourself in the ice… In Erskine’s lab… Stevie, I just wanted you to be able to be you when you’re with me. I wanted to know the you that you were before you became Captain America.” Your voice is shaking, knees knocking together, and honestly? You feel like you might blackout.
“What?” He rasps, “What?”
“He sent that email because too many kids signed up for his class thinking that they’d be able to look at pictures of you and Buck for a semester. Emailed me directly because he knows we’re…” You choke on your words, shaking your head because you’re not even sure there’s a we anymore, “Because he knows I’m on the team. Didn’t want me walking in and making his class about just a few years in the ‘30s and ‘40s rather than the culture of the time.” You don’t know how else to explain it to him, but Steve isn’t saying anything - practically isn’t moving or breathing- so you continue to try and explain what’s really happening as best as you can, “And - and that email made me so angry because he singled me out, didn’t email anyone else about it, and I left to try and work some of that out; I didn’t want to take it out on you, or let it spoil - let it spoil… But when I came back from the gym, you were gone. You were gone for two weeks and I didn’t know why.” You’re crying harder now and pretty sure that within the next sixty seconds you’re going to collapse if you don’t sit down.
Steve shakes his head, still looking like he doesn’t understand. “What?” He says for a third time, “A class? A college class?”
“I just wanted to feel closer to you,” You confess, “Just wanted to understand a fraction of your life without making you do the heavy liftin’ and teachin’ me. Shouldn’t have’t do that,” You’re sobbing, barely biting out your words as you realize that something you’ve done to strengthen your relationship with Steve has destroyed it, “Shouldn’t have to explain a whole different time just to feel loved, Stevie. Should be able to be with someone who understands without you havin’ to explain.” You’re not sure you can say Peggy’s name out loud, and you hope he understands what you’re saying without making you actually say it, “Should’a been able to have love with someone who knew, and I know I’m nothin’ compared to what you should’a had, but I want to be. I want to be in the same ballpark instead’a watchin’ from the stands.” You wipe your face with your free hand and look away from Steve when he stands in front of you. You don’t want to see the look on his face - what he’s thinking about what you’ve said.
He says your name and you glance at him, but his expression stops him in your tracks. Where Steve looked broken and hurt and fuming with anger to hide the anguish, now he looks stricken. You shake your head, “No, no. I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty-”
“You think that I care about whether or not you can understand the ‘40s?” He cuts you off, hands moving to curl around your biceps, “You think that I care whether or not you can relate to a time in history when you weren’t even thought of?”
“Of course I love you. I love you more than anything in this world, but you shouldn’t have to not care, Steve,” You argue, shaking your head, “That’s what I’m trying to say. You should be with someone who understands without explanation. I just wanted to give that to you - didn’t know that this would happen.”
“I should be with someone who loves me,” He argues back, “If you love me, that’s all that matters. My past be damned.”
“But your past is you!” You try to pull away from Steve, but he anchors you there. You’re dizzy from being so close to him after this long, but also because of how many different twists this situation has taken. You can barely keep up with how bad your communication with Steve has become - barely keep up with how you need to fix it, or how to fix it. “Your past is you,” You repeat when you realize that Steve isn’t going to let you go. “And you shouldn’t have to give that up so that someone will love you.”
“But you love me,” He says desperately, ducking his head so that he’s nearly nose to nose with you, “You love me, right?”
“More than anything,” You say, closing your eyes and relishing in the feeling of being so close to Steve, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I don’t care about what anyone else thinks, or anyone else. I’ll even stop goin’ to class if you want me to - Steve, I just can’t do this anymore. Can’t do this thing where you don’t talk to me about what’s botherin’ you.” You’re choking up, barely whispering, but you know he hears you. YOu can feel his warm breath on your face, “Nearly fuckin’ killed me.”
“I thought it was goin’ to be easier,” He breathes, nose bumping yours, “When you eventually decided to leave me for him. Thought I was savin’ myself some trouble.” You can practically taste his tears as they fall again, “Buck and Nat tried to tell me that you weren’t - that you wouldn’t - but I just couldn’t believe them.”
When you open your eyes, his are closed. This close to him you can see the soft freckles that are blooming over his eyelids, his soft eyelashes kissing his cheekbones. You can feel him breathing, feel him nearly pressed against you in a way that feels hauntingly nostalgic and terrifyingly fleeting; like you’ll be able to feel his warmth for years to come, but he’s about to disappear. “That’s okay,” You finally whisper, “It’s okay that you didn’t believe them. That you thought what you thought. It’s okay.” He shakes his head against yours, opening his mouth to protest, but you refuse to let him feel guilty about feeling this way - you have plenty of time to sit him down and talk to him candidly about the way he acted because of these feelings, anyway. “If I would have been in your place I’m not sure I would have believed them.”
“I treated you so badly…” He shifts and wraps his arms around you. It’s almost immediate - you relax into his arms and wind yours around his waist, keeping him pulled against you as he presses his face into your neck and you press your cheek against his chest. “So awfully.”
“We’ll talk about that, okay? But later. Right now you just need to know that I love you, Steve. I love you more than I can tell you - more than I can express.” You want to kiss him, but you can’t. Can’t kiss him, you need to wait for him to kiss you, for him to close that gap and show you that he still loves you like you love him. “We’ll have to have a talk, a long and hard conversation about this, Stevie, but for now… For now, I’m just content to be with you, okay? MIssed you so much.”
He sighs, nose pressing against yours again. “Missed you too, dovie. Missed you more than I can even say,” His voice breaks as his lips brush yours. Your relationship is not without its flaws and problems - Steve’s actions when he thought you were cheating on him are proof of that and, well, the fact that you didn’t realize what was happening, why it was happening, or a large part of your boyfriend’s psychological makeup having an impact on your relationship while it went unknown by you… There is a lot of work for the two of you to do, a lot of work to do, a lot of communication to be done… But you’d do it all for Steve, over and over again.
When he presses forward and presses his lips gently to yours, you know that he’ll do it all for you, over and over again, too.
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hi! if you're comfortable writing this, could i ask for a scenario? this has been in the back of my head for a while.
what would be the reaction of the brothers + dateables of watching mc play resident evil in the dimitrescu castle? who would be down bad the most
thank you! feel free to ignore this if you don't want to write this ofc
I love this ask (stan tall vampire lady). The only thing is that I accidentally turned it into a “how they feel about the game.” I managed to add in some parts with MC playing as well to make up for it
Update: I literally finished the request yesterday but my wifi went down and I lost everything 😩 😩
I also wrote this in the middle of the night so sorry if there are any errors! Enjoy!
Warnings: cursing.
How the OM! characters would react to you playing Resident Evil (Dimitrescu Castle edition)
Lucifer
Will not care at first
"I hold no interest in such trivial simulations."
His weakness? Being a simp for you.
He decides to look into the game a bit more in private later on.
Will lowkey practice the game
If you ever catch him playing it, do not say anything because he will stop immediately, deny everything, and might not ever do it again
With time, however, Lucifer will come to master the game.
Here comes the showing off.
When you're rambling about the game with Levi, Lucifer will join the conversation and you two will be like "wow, boomer knows something for once--"
Or when you're struggling on a part of the game he will be like, "hand it over"
Before expertly getting through that part.
Can defeat Lady Dimitrescu if you ask him to but be careful cause he might make you beg
sadistic bastard
or you can be a badass and show him your skills
Will be a tad shocked at how easily you handled it but won't let it show (okay Elsa)
Also proud though
Lucifer's internal monologue: “That’s right- show them how it’s done, Y/n.”
Mammon
Scared.
Will watch you play and cover his eyes during every battle
"wHAT IS THAT?!" at everything you come across
I hope you're good at playing one-handed because you'll have to use the other hand to hold his throughout the entire thing
Admires you're bravery but would never admit it
"You were horrible! ...N-nice job beating the game, not that I c-care or anything. You sucked anyways!"
Not even 10 seconds later...
"Can I watch you play again?"
Comes to find that the faces you make are adorable: when you're concentrating on a battle, when you win, find a valuable item, etc
He loves being able to see how you're feeling up close.
If you catch him staring when you take a break or something he'll blush and either ask you if you have a staring problem or that you have something on your face
He may or may not buy cheap merch (a tiny key chain of Lady Dimitrescu or your favorite character) for you, all the while spewing lame excuses
Please bear with him- he's trying.
Leviathan
"YOU ALSO LIKE RESIDENT DEVIL?!?? Ah! I-I mean..."
Congrats, you just found yourself someone to discuss the game with
Is open to cosplay the characters with you
You two will have competitions to see who can beat the game faster.
You both also share theories with each other all the time
Or simply discuss the characters together
He purposefully stays quiet to hear you ramble on and on- dude finds it adorable
You two also sometimes argue debate over a character name or event in the game
Because while you have Resident Evil
He only knows Resident Devil
This is the equivalent of Devilgram and Instagram
I mean
They’re the same,
But a couple things were altered, y’know, to prevent copyright
So yes, there are definitely a few quarrels here and there
But all in all, it’s a fun gamer bud experience
Don’t tell him I told you but he thinks it’s hot when you show off your badass skills in a boss fight
Satan
He plays it on the lowkey.
Not because he’s embarrassed
But because he partially takes his anger out on the characters
During gory scenes, he imagines it’s him torturing Lucifer, fueling his determination to win
A calculated person, Satan is a smart player
But there are times when he’s particularly angry and he becomes a reckless one, jumping into fights impetuously
This is where you come in and beat the enemy for him
He may get angrier, thinking you are underestimating him
But, for the sake of the person he loves, he calms down knowing you didn’t mean to offend him
A small part in the back of his head also admires you for being able to handle the fight a ton better than he did
Congratulations, you just earned yourself the great Satan’s respect (resident evil-wise).
Asmodeus
“Oh my, I never knew you were into such gory games! Does this mean you’re into blood play, because I know many things about--”
He may look carefree on the outside
But on the inside?
Let’s take a look, shall we?
Holy shit
What the fu--
Jesus christ, can you pull a move like that in real life?
He needs to be careful to not piss you off.
If you can handle this, who knows what you could be capable of?
Hold on.
Wait, you look so concentrated
Eeep! How cute!
Anyways, it ends with him snapping a bunch of pictures
Keeps them for himself and may brag to his brothers about how he got some “special” shots of you
Obviously never elaborates on what the special part means to keep his dear siblings on edge because, what the hell, they want to know what these special shots are
Would not play the game because there’s “tOo MuCh BlOoDsHeD”
We all know he’s most likely seen his fair share of bloodshed
“What if the adrenaline gives me acne?”
He’s probably just bad at the game--
Verdict: Asmo is a simp and not afraid to flaunt it.
Beel
...Are you okay?
Do you think about homicide--?
Oh, that lady looks nice.
Huh, she’s 9′6″??
What’s her name? Lady Dimitrescu?
Okay-- WAIT WHY IS SHE TURNING INTO THAT??
Not scared, just a tad bit concerned
Poor Beel, concerned for Lady D :’)
Also, seeing the death’s of Bela, Daniela, and Cassandra hit different
Because he know what it’s like to lose a sibling.
Safe to say he understands Alcina’s pain when she raged about her children being dead.
Also concerned about how the gore could affect you
Because isn’t stuff like this supposed to traumatize humans?
Would support you regardless though
And thinks that you’re really brave for playing the game and still being able to stand strong
On another note, Beel decided to make small flower graves for the three sisters and Alcina because he’s adorable and kind like that
Belphegor
Likes the game but is too lazy to play himself
Regularly watches Satan play (or at least as much as he can before deciding it’s nap time)
I hope you enjoy Belphie using you as a body pillow and watching you play from now on
Makes small comments here and there to help you out
“To your left... Oh, and open the window- yeah, that one.”
Will smirk, impressed, when you deal with the fights and win yourself without his comments.
“That’s my Y/n”
(Sorry I don’t know what else to put for him :’))
Diavolo
“Is this a human trend?” meme
Will watch excitedly and “oooo” whenever you do something cool
Be careful though, because the questions will not stop as you play
“What’s that? I see. What’s it for? How do you win the game? Who’s that character? Why can’t you do this? What about--?”
Diavolo, you’re awesome and all, but please
shush
On the inside, is also one that might be a tad concerned about your mental health because doesn’t that gore traumatize humans?
Wait, you do this for entertainment?
...
Another warning: he will shower you in merchandise from the game
I am not above the fact that this man has a game room
And he will try to master the game
Casually pushes all his paperwork over to Lucifer so he can play Resident Evil
RIP Luci
Unfortunately, Diavolo will have trouble grasping the game and how it works
You will have to explain many things to him
Good luck- he’s a bit of a boomer (but willing to learn) and may or may not get distracted staring at you
But anyways, he enjoys engaging in the competitions you and Levi have
Whether it be playing as well or simply watching
He just loves to see you happy
Barbatos
Oh my, what’s this?
Will watch you play
and constantly criticize how filthy the Dimitrescu castle is
“Do they have any idea how many rats this can attract?”
Barbatos, your weakness is showing.
Seeing you so happy while playing the game helps him relax from his daily troubles tasks
He rewards you with a pat on the head any time you beat a foe
When Diavolo goes over to the HoL or when you come over to play in he silently cheers you on in the background.
Solomon
Yuh
Is educated on the game and knows his shit as the only other human
Maybe knows a bit too much of the game
You will later come to find out that, somewhere in his mass tangle of shady connections, he knows a developer
Might give you tips and tricks to get on higher levels
But never, and I mean never, challenge him like you would with Levi to see who can beat the game faster
Because he will beat you by a seconds on purpose, just to piss you of
all the while doing that dark, shady chuckle
Asshole
But anyways, if you manage to finesse and beat him, he will be
So confused
“I thought I did it all right, what went wrong...?” he thinks to himself.
On the outside, however, he’s smiling
Will hand over some praise to his little apprentice, but if you look carefully you will see a spark of annoyance
We get it Solomon, you’re a sore loser.
In the end, he will still leave somewhat impressed at your skillz
Simeon
w h a t
Is a little scared
“Is this one of them video games you kids play nowadays...? Just kidding. What are you playing-- oh my”
Might try to figure out how to play
But alas,
Simeon is yet another boomer
So he will have quite some trouble even figuring out how to move
And why does he hold the controller like that what
If you’ve seen that one picture of him holding his phone sideways you know what I mean
On another note, if you look through his poem book, then you may or may not find a few poems describing how amazing and badass you looked hustling the entire game
Luke
about to bomb this master hill
No literally is considering bombing the computer or whatever you’re playing on because wHAT IS THAT
He is just
So
So
Scared
This will give him nightmares for weeks
Apparently Alcina reminds him of Lucifer so he kinda
Hates her
Says he will protect you
--as he runs out of the room in fear
Irrelevant but the one he hates the most is fetus baby
Michael have mercy on this poor boy--
#om! x reader#obey me#obey me x reader#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me levi#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphie#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me simeon#obey me luke#x reader#thank you for the request!#OM!#om x reader#om! x mc#lucifer#mammon#leviathan#satan#asmo#beel#belphie#diavolo#barbatos#simeon#luke
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Brotherly Discomfort
Summary: After ‘the talk’, your brothers are adamant to protect you, but you throw yet another curveball their way. Part 2 to Growing Pains
(Gif by @nofckingfighting)
A/N: This is part 2 to my most popular fic Growing Pains and I used anon’s request: Could you do a Shelby sis story where she’s a lesbian and in love with a woman and her family doesn’t know. The family is trying to get her into an arranged marriage with a man and she can’t figure out how to tell them she’s a lesbian cause she feels they won’t except her? Sorry if that’s too much. Love your writing so much btw!!
Thanks for this request babes, hope I did it justice :)
Words: 2387
***
“Right, Y/N, sit down,” Tommy sighed deeply and pointed at a single chair by the kitchen table, “We need to talk.”
As you sat down, three brothers loomed over you. Tommy lit a cigarette like his life depended on it, Arthur couldn’t stand still if his life depended on it and John seemed to have forgotten what his life actually depended on, so he just stood there, unsure of everything.
“We’re having another talk,” you stated. The last one, only a few days ago, was still fresh in your mind.
“We are,” you brother confirmed.
Arthur took off his cap like he was attending a funeral and stumbled, “We, uhm… We’ve had an idea.”
“Christ,” Polly mumbled from behind her newspaper and you couldn’t agree more.
“The thing is,” John finally spoke, “We’ve been worried after we… talked.”
“Right,” you nodded, “Because of he subject of our conversation?”
“It’s not just that!” your brother continued, with a slight frantic edge to his voice, “You’re growing up, but you’re still running around with the dogs at all hours. You won’t listen to anyone, do whatever you please…”
Tommy continued where John faltered, “The truth is, Y/N, you’re getting to be too wild.”
“Oh, fuck off, Tom,” and you got up with every intention to leave the room.
“Sit down,” he said sternly, “We can’t have another Ada situation.”
“Situation?” your eyebrows shot up, “What do you fucking mean by a fucking situation?”
“The baby, Y/N,” Arthur explained.
“I’m sorry,” you were boiling inside now, “but please explain: was the baby the problem or the man she had the baby with the problem? Or possibly, maybe, the fact that you three had no say in the matter?!”
“That’s not the point,” John could feel this conversation wasn’t going as planned, “The thing is we couldn’t stop it!”
Polly scoffed behind you, so at least you felt like someone was on your side.
After a few moments of silence, your anger got the better of you and you slammed a hand down on the table in a very Tommy manner, “So what did you three fucking geniuses come up with?”
Tommy pointed at you menacingly, “You fucking watch your mouth. You may be sixteen but I will still wash your mouth out with soap if you don’t mind that tongue…”
“Minding my tongue…” you repeated, rolling your eyes, “Fine. So, what’s the plan? Arthur? John? Are we going back to the old ways and am I being married off to some good gypsy boy?”
You turned around at Polly and laughed at your own joke, but when the room fell silent once again, you realised you’d hit the jackpot.
Arthur had known you since the day you were born. He’d been twelve at the time and he could recognise every little expression on your face. Like when you were little, you used to scrunch up your nose just before you were about to cry for hunger. Or when you were sad, a small wobble in your chin just before the tears. Or when you were angry, a wrinkle in your forehead gave away the tantrum that was about to follow. This was happening right now.
So he held up both hands and said, “Y/N, he’s from a good family…”
“Nope,” you said, adamantly.
“He is,” John confirmed gently, “and he has horses.”
“Fucking no,” you shook your head.
Tommy sighed, “We already made the deal.”
“You promised your sister, just like that. That’s low, even coming from you, Thomas,” Polly’s cold voice sounded.
If there was one person who could break his tough exterior, it was his aunt, “Well, what the fuck should we have done, Pol? Let her run wild, like you, eh?”
But you stood up and walked over to Tommy. This was the man who had raised you, cared for you and disciplined you most of all, but right now, none of it mattered. So you slapped him hard, once.
“Undo it Tommy,” you hissed, “Undo it or I’ll fucking cut you.”
In the background you could hear Arthur mumble at once, “Okay, we’ll undo it…”
“Give me one good reason,” your brother’s face, now only inches away, remained emotionless.
You sighed and decided to throw all caution to the wind. “Anna,” you said, calmly.
“What?” John asked immediately.
So you repeated, voice raised, “Anna!”
Three frowning brother stared at you, not understanding at all.
“Remember when you asked me what hisname was, last week?” you called out exasperated.
“’John’, wasn’t it?” Arthur looked at you.
“No, it wasn’t fucking ‘John’, Arthur, she just said so,” John explained to his oldest brother.
Tommy lit another cigarette, “What’s your point, Y/N?”
You pointed at your neck where the nearly faded hickey could still be seen if you knew, “The name of the girl who gave me this is Anna.”
“That would be bloody fantastic actually, because we wouldn’t have to worry anymore about a baby situation…”
John squinted, “I think she’s serious…”
“Oooooh fuck…” Arthur sighed, suddenly connecting the dots; “We’ve been keeping an eye on the wrong fucking people, John.”
But John burst out laughing, “Didn’t see that one coming, did you, Tommy?”
Slowly, your brother sat down and started smoking his second cigarette, “Pol, contact Madame Ross, tell her the wedding is off.”
But Aunt Polly was having none of it, “You got us into this mess, you can fix it.”
And then fear settled suddenly into the pit of your stomach. You looked at Tommy and asked softly, “Are you mad?”
“Nope,” he said, head dropped down into his hands.
“Disappointed?”
“No, I’m not disappointed. But you should’ve told us, eh?”
You shrugged, “Didn’t think you’d… approve.”
“Why?” John asked, “We don’t care that you like women.” And all the love you had in you went out to your brother in that very moment.
“Y/N,” Arthur started and he looked so angry that uncertainty took over again, “Why the fuck did you not tell us before we… explained?”
“Because it was hilarious,” Polly commented unhelpfully.
John started giggling again, “Fucking unnecessary is what it was.”
“Arthur?” you asked, fear seeping into your voice.
He sighed deeply, fidgeting with his hat, “It’s not the women, Y/N, I don’t care about that. It’s you and… anyone really. I don’t like the idea of you with anyone. Remember when she used to play with the coals, remember John?”
“Yeah, I remember,” John smiled.
“Black like the night she’d be!” Arthur remembered out loud, “Sweet and innocent.”
“Well, she’s not anymore,” Polly sipped her tea.
“I fucking see that and I don’t like it,” you eldest brother’s smile faded quickly.
“Right,” Tommy raised his head again, “Guess we need to change our approach.”
“There really no need…” you started.
But he continued, ignoring you, “So you like girls, eh?”
“Yep,” you confirmed meekly.
“Only girls?”
You nodded, “Well, one in particular.”
Arthur looked at Tommy like he would have all the answers, “Now what, Tom?”
You could now start to see the humour in all of it. Your brothers’ faces were an absolute picture! John could hardly contain his laughter, Tommy looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and Arthur was filled with the absolute dread at another conversation like the one you had last week.
“Oh, come on!” John called out, “I’m sure we could offer some advice!” He winked at you and a smile spread across your face.
“Yeah!” you said, “I mean you all like women, right? This should be even easier!”
“It’s not,” Arthur muttered.
“I like women,” John said to no one in particular.
“What about you, Tommy?” you asked your brother sweetly.
But he just rolled his eyes and continued smoking. A part of you wanted to joke about him and Alfie, but you decided against it at the last second.
“Horses?” you ventured, “Tommy, any advice on this with the famous analogy of horses?
“Horses don’t really…” he waved a hand, coughed and stopped talking all together.
“Well, at least you don’t have to be afraid of her getting pregnant,” John said to Arthur, who was as white as a sheet now.
“That’s right,” he replied in a low voice, “but that’s my entire speech out the window, because there’s no waiting ‘till bloody marriage either…”
“Well,” you tried to comfort your older brother, “You did offer me some good advice the last time, Arthur. You said there was no hurry and to not do it unless I wanted to?”
“Right! I did say that. That, yes, it still stands!” Arthur looked around the kitchen triumphantly.
“And John,” you continued, ���you said to not put anything in my mouth unless I wanted to. Sound advice that was, now more than ever!”
“Fucking hell,” Arthur crumbled again, “I can’t do this again. Tom, say something.”
“Women….” Tommy started off vaguely waving his cigarette around, “they want love.”
“We do.”
“And they always want to take things slow.”
“Can you imagine?” John interrupted, “Two women together? Must take ages…”
“You’d be surprised…” you started, but when you saw your other brothers’ faces, you shut your mouth quickly.
Tommy glared daggers at his brother and then turned to you, “How did you become an expert all of a sudden, eh?”
“Talked to Ada,” you shrugged.
“You talked to Ada…” he repeated lowly and threw his head back.
“Wait,” John said suddenly, “Is this why you hate wearing dresses?”
“Or why you drink whiskey like a man?” Arthur added, carefully.
“That’s just because she’s a Shelby,” Polly explained matter-of-factly.
“Or why you never sit on chairs?” John continued, “Or hang out at the factory all the time! Or why you always talk about votes for women…”
You held up a hand to stop your brother, “None of that has anything to do with me liking women, John. That’s just… me.”
“So what does have to do with you liking women?” your other brother asked in his typical low voice.
“Me liking women…?”
“So how does it work exactly?” John furrowed his brows, “Like, without… a man there?”
“John,” Arthur warned him with a grumble.
“Well, both people are enjoying themselves, for starters…” you replied in earnest.
“Fucking hell,” the eldest interrupted, “She’s turning into Ada, she bloody is.”
“Have you never seen two women together, Arthur?” you asked innocently, “Not even in London?”
“They’re all mad bastards down in London, Y/N, the things I’ve seen there…”
“Well, imagine me now.”
Tommy had just taken a sip of his whiskey and practically choked on the spot, “That’s fucking it. You’re not to go near the BSA again!”
“Why?” you called out, “It’s not like all the women in the world are gathered at the BSA!”
“I will not have you behaving,” he struggled to find the words but finally spit, “like those fucking women in London!”
“Don’t worry, Tommy,” you tried to comfort him, “I’m still… we haven’t actually…”
“Oh, thank God,” Arthur sank down in his chair.
“Well, when you do, just be gentle, alright?” John offered some advice, “And light a candle! Women love candles.”
“Candles, check,” you noted.
Tommy downed his whiskey, recomposed himself and added, “And make sure they’re in the mood first…”
“To get ‘happy’,” you said, “like Arthur said last time,”
“Yes,” he sighed deeply.
“Cut your nails,” John said out of the blue, “Esme told me.”
Arthur turned to his brother, “What the bloody hell do nails have to do with anything?”
“Well, it’s for when you…”
But Tommy silenced you with a gesture, “Please, Y/N, don’t.”
“Right,” and the quiet returned in the small kitchen. Well, at least now they knew, so that terrifying bit was out of the way. Apart from that, you weren’t quite sure if this was going great, because your brothers seemed absolutely petrified and slightly annoyed at your sudden revelation. Maybe it would’ve been better if you hadn’t told them. Then again, marrying a ‘good gypsy boy’ was the last thing you wanted in life. So maybe you could lighten the mood just a little.
“I have a better idea,” a sudden glint came into your eyes, “How about I offer all of you some advice!” The tables had turned already and this couldn’t possibly get any more awkward.
“Nope,” Arthur stood up and promptly marched out of the kitchen, talking to himself, “I can’t. That’s my baby sister and I just fucking can’t...”
“Arthur, where are you going?” Polly called after him, mirth clearly audible in her voice. And he replied, “I’m going to find this Anna, make sure she’s from a good family…” And then he was gone.
Tommy looked from you to Polly for a few seconds before he cleared his throat and mumbled something about business. Polly smirked at you and his face was full of annoyance at it all, “I need to get back to Dangerous. The horse. Tell me some other time, eh?”
“Tommy,” you asked carefully, “Are you sure you’re not mad about me liking women?”
“Princess, I honestly don’t give a fuck who you like,” he said, while putting on his coat and hat, “I just want to meet this Anna and if she hurts you, I’ll still kill her. None of that has changed, eh?”
This was strangely comforting to you.
And just as you were about to offer some unwanted advice, he left the kitchen in a hurry and called over his shoulder, “If you have any questions, Ada apparently has all the fucking answers!”
So you turned to your aunt, “That went well, didn’t it?”
“At least the wedding’s off.”
“Thank fuck,” you smirked and Polly smiled at you encouragingly, “You don’t mind, Aunt Pol, do you?”
“I’m with Tommy,” she said returning to her stern voice, “The fact that it’s a woman won’t make me hesitate.”
“Right,” you nodded, “She makes me happy, though.”
“Good,” Aunt Polly continued to read the newspaper, “Bring her over for tea. Let’s make the boys really uncomfortable, shall we?”
Still laughing, you stood up with the intention of getting on with your homework, when you suddenly noticed John was still sitting on the chair in the back of the kitchen.
“What do you want?” you asked him bluntly.
“I’m waiting,” he said, hands upturned, “You promised me some advice, remember?”
***
Masterlist
#Growing pains#peaky blinder imagine#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders#shelby!sister#sister!shelby#shelby sister#shelby sister imagine#sister shelby#shelby sis#tommy shelby#thomas shelby#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby x reader#arthur shelby#john shelby#john shelby x reader#polly shelby#polly gray#ada shelby#ada thorne#peaky blinders fluff#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders headcanon
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Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Part 3 (Mycroft Holmes x Reader)
AN- Thank you for the patience for this one! My little boy has been unwell so it has taken a little longer than I had hoped but here is the third instalment! It’s a little shorter than the others but that’s because I wanted to contain the angsty part in one chapter, the next ones will hopefully be longer..
This one is a little more angsty, a lot more emotional, but I’m quite happy with the outcome and I hope you are too! As usual, please let me know any thoughts/feedback! And enjoy!
Word Count: 2510
"Is it just me that finds Stephen Fry a bit.. sexy?" You spoke, watching the television as Young Ones' Scumbag College competed on University Challenge. "I don't know what it is about him. He's just.. got such a lovely voice, and he's so sodding clever and his CLOTHES- got much better looking with age, mind." Mycroft only hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
"Hmm.. He's not really my type." You laughed and petted his head fondly.
"You don't have to be gay to find another man attractive Myc." You mused. "Me and Greg talk about it all the time, though he fancies Hugh Laurie more, especially in Blackadder." You laughed, thinking back on the memory of Greg's fondness of George in the Blackadder Goes Forth series.
"I'm aware that sexuality and attraction are not the same, Y/N. I am comfortable enough in my own heterosexuality to appreciate another man's features. In fact, I very much agree with Gregory's view on Mr Laurie. Stephen, however, is not my type. The few people that did speak to me in University used to tell me I reminded them of him in the way I behaved but, and I quote, 'without even a lick of his humour, you miserable bastard.' Thus, I cannot look at him in that way." He laughed a little and you cleared your throat.
"Oh.. uh, yeah I guess that makes sense. Not the humour part though, you're actually hilarious and they missed out big time." You tried to avoid the point where you'd deemed Stephen Fry sexy in every way he was similar to the man who was laying in your lap, and just hoped he wouldn't bring that up.
"He definitely got the looks side of things though, particularly as General Melchett in Goes Forth, though I am not particularly fond of the facial hair." He screwed up his nose in distaste, you fighting every ounce of your control to not say he looked a bit cute. "And certainly didn't have the waistline that 21 year old Mycroft had."
"Speaking in the third person now, are we? Well, Mycroft, Y/N is comfortable enough in her friendship that Y/N thinks Mycroft can be sexy in his own ways too." You teased, partly embarrassed, but equally just trying any way to improve the man's confidence, even by a little. Mycroft choked a little on his own saliva and had to sit up to regain his own breath. Too far? "Sorry." He shook his head 'no' but didn't speak. In his moments of regaining his composure, Mycroft watched you. Processed in his head what you had said- 'was it a joke?', he couldn't read anything on you that would suggest that, though his eyes were glassy from the choking- watched as you panicked, then subsiding the panic to concern as you made sure he was okay. All these things, he thought, he didn't deserve. He took a deep breath and reached for the television remote, pausing the show and settling back on the other side of the sofa. It had to be done now. Done while his brain was allowing it, before he got attached... before he got attached even more. He couldn't keep pretending it was okay, keep accepting your compliments and your kindness, couldn't allow himself to go any further in his.. attraction?
It was always unspoken between the two of you- your not so subtle hints to Mycroft over the last few years hadn't got unnoticed, Mycroft would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he felt the same way, though this was perhaps the most open you had been; he would always put it off, try to think of reasons why you shouldn't be more than whatever you are now- most of the time it circles back to work, your busy schedule at the Yard and his unpredictable working hours mostly, saying to himself that it would simply be pointless, that you wouldn't see each other. But he knew that was a lie- you see him as often as you can, even if it's just for an hour on lunch, and everyone knows he would do his best to move empires to have you over for dinner had it been a while, quite literally actually.
Then there was age, you were in your mid-to-late twenties, he in his forties, though that argument also fell flat after you had mentioned your last long term relationship had been with a man your elder, amongst many of your interests in celebrity males that you had mentioned being closer to his age than yours- and, on his behalf, it was usual for a Politician to walk into formal dinners with a younger woman on arm. In the end, it all went back to the real reason Mycroft put everything off, a reason he hated admitting to even himself. Mycroft was scared.
Having been the age he is with no sexual experience, no previous relationships, and not even many friendships, he was terrified he would humiliate himself and you would leave him completely. You were both adults, both clever, you both knew there was always 'something' there, but without you ever acting upon it, Mycroft decided to live his life keeping you as a friend rather than risk not having you at all. He felt guilty enough having you here anyway. He couldn't allow you to keep stroking his hair like that, or letting you sleep in his bed with him, hold him as he snored, when it was for completely other desires in his own mind, not without speaking to you. No, that wouldn't be fair- even if he didn't fully understand everything himself and was still incredibly scared. You needed to know the truth, about everything, and, if there were the slightest chance you'd forgive him, he had decided he couldn't wait any longer, couldn't put it off anymore, he wanted you to carry on doing those things, wanted to continue the nights you would stay in his bed. But Mycroft wanted it to change, he wanted to be able to start the night with a ghost of his hand on your hip, without waiting until you were asleep to bring himself to have that courage, to wake up next to you and not feel the awkward need to move so soon, just to stay a little longer. Christ, Mycroft wanted every cliché in the book with you, and it took him until yesterday to realise how much he wanted that, after nearly losing you. And he needed you to know, even if it risked it all.
"Y/N I-"
"I know, I'm sorry, I took it too far I was just messing about.. Not that I didn't mean it, I wasn't joking about you.. You are very attractive, but it was inappropriate.. I shouldn't have said it.. I just wanted to help.. though I don't think it did, might have made it worse, actually.. Didn't want to say anything and let you find out.. like that.. not that it matters.. because I AM happy JUST being your friend, over the moon, actually.. so I don't want you to think I ruined that... Because I know you don't feel.. like that.. and you're not saying anything which is scaring me a little because you're always talking.. Not that I don't like that.. I love you talking to me, you've got a lovely voice.. and.. and I'm going to shut up again.. sorry.. again.." You rambled, a lot, too much.. far too much. Mycroft tried to process everything, his eyes closing at every word. You were making this so much harder for him, admitting everything like that. Mycroft hunched forward in his position and braced his elbows on his knees, index and middle finger of each hand holding the weight of his head by his temples.
"No just.. Just stop talking for a moment." Mycroft snapped, cutting you off as your mouth opened to speak a little, the small jump back made his gaze soften. "Please." He spoke softer, apologetic. "I can't.. talk about that.. not yet. Not until you know.." You went to speak again but his head tilted, eyes containing a rare glaze of vulnerability, trying to stay in contact with your own but constantly dropping back to his lap- a silent plea to stay quiet, be patient and just give him a moment. And you did. Turning your body completely sideways, you crossed your legs on the sofa, hands resting folded in your lap as you encouraged him to continue with a brief nod of your head. "I fear if I don't tell you of yesterday's happenings in this very moment that I never shall, and that is far too selfish, even of me." He took a deep breath in. "But I just.. need a moment. A few, likely, throughout." You nodded your head again.
From there, Mycroft began to explain everything that had happened, told you of his sister, where she had taken him, Sherlock and John, what she spoke about, what she tried to get them to do. His voice cracked every so often, knuckles whitened as his fists clenches, creases formed in his trousers where he squeezed his hand on them, but you listened to every word and stayed silent- eyes welling with small tears. Mycroft spoke of the screen, told you of the snipers that were out there, targeting Ms Hudson and Molly. Your body stiffened as he added Lestrade to the list, feeling your throat tighten a little at the mere thought of losing Greg. Mycroft pressed on, told you about how Eurus tried to make Sherlock choose between him and John, told you how he'd tried to convince Sherlock to just shoot him, how Sherlock refused and threatened to shoot himself. His voice went breathless at the end of that, the idea of losing his brother so easily still fresh in his mind. You loosened your sitting position and leaned over, taking Mycroft's hand in your own and squeezing. He sighed again and closed his eyes.
"Please, don't." He whispered, trying to fold his hand into a fist to escape your embrace. You didn't let go and offered your other hand on his back in support as you watched a stray tear fall down his cheek. "I said don't!" He shouted, moving from your touch and standing up from the sofa, beginning to pace as his face contorted into more pain, another tear following the path of the last. You sat back, watched him, didn't take the anger to heart. "It was my fault! All of it!" He ran his hands through his hair and tugged, moving them after to wipe the droplets from his cheek.
"Myc it's ok-"
"It isn't okay Y/N! No part of any of this is even remotely close to okay!" He stilled now, posture going back rigid as he looked at you, eyes bloodshot and glassy. He told you of his Birthday present to Eurus- five unsupervised minutes with Moriarty- and started his pacing again. "A man died yesterday because of me. Sherlock, John, Greg, Ms Hudson, Molly. They all almost died yesterday. You almost... you almost died yesterday." His breath hitched again, lip softly quivering at the end of his words. You tensed a little and frowned, confused and urging him to elaborate. "They weren't the only people on the screens, not the only ones with a red dot on their heads, Y/N." Gaze avoiding you now, turned completely to face the wall rather than look at you at all- giving him a chance to compose himself, steadying his voice. "I saw you, you were happy, just dancing and making tea, but at any moment you could have... and it would have been my fault. And I know I should have told you yesterday, it was selfish of me using you the way that I have without letting you know everything. You could have been gone before I could tell you everything, before I could explain how I feel about you, and it all came rushing to me the moment I saw your face on that screen. I’m so sorry, for everything, for ignoring everything, for being the reason you almost-" The last thing Mycroft had expected was the feeling of arms around his waist, the feeling of a head resting between his shoulder blades, soaking the shirt with tears. You sniffed, holding onto him tighter as you cried into his back.
"It's okay Mycroft." You spoke, voice croaking from tears. "They're okay.. I'm okay. And you're going to be okay. I'm not going anywhere." The relief Mycroft felt from your words ran through his body as he slumped a little, left hand holding on to where yours joined on his stomach, his right lifting to his eyes where, in a very rare moment, he allowed himself to weep.
***
Neither of you were too sure on how long you stayed like that, Mycroft being held in your arms as he quietly cried into his hand, you into his back, but it was long enough that your feet were beginning to ache and Mycroft had become silent a short while ago. You attempted to loosen your grip but Mycroft quickly grabbed back at your hands, holding them to him again. You changed your tactic and instead circled round until your hands remained together on his back, you now at his front and you gave him one last squeeze before guiding him backwards to the sofa, taking your place next to him but keeping your arms around him.
"I'm sorry." His voice was broken, quieter than usual. You shook your head and fought the urge to cry again.
"Don't." You spoke, sliding a hand down to hold his own that rested on his thigh. "Don't apologise Myc. You didn't do anything on purpose, you were just trying to be a good person.. a good brother. We're both still alive. Sherlock, John, Greg, Ms Hudson, Molly, they're all fine, and I have no doubt that it was partly due to you that they are still okay- whatever the three of you did in there, it worked, and that's all that matters to me." Mycroft shifted, his eyes finding yours once more, scanning, searching, trying to find anything that showed you were lying, that you didn't trust him anymore, but he couldn't find anything.
"But I-" You placed a hand at the back of his neck and leaned forward slightly, your lips meeting his briefly for a few seconds before pulling back. It wasn't desperate, or longing, or out of lust- it was everything Mycroft needed. Everything that let him know that you weren't going anywhere, that you still wanted to be around him, to be with him. He relaxed but didn't speak, his hand beneath yours just turning to allow your fingers to lace together as he let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. You rested your head against his shoulder, smiling softly as you felt his own rest atop yours before falling into a comfortable silence.
#mycroft#Mycroft Holmes#bbc mycroft#bbc mycroft holmes#mycroft x reader#bbc sherlock#reader insert#mycroft holmes x reader#mycroft holmes x reader smut
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Batfam Alphabet: L - Language
Summary: Jason doesn’t hesitate to drag his brothers down with him when Bruce starts reprimanding him about the type of language he uses on a daily basis.
Enjoy! :D
“Well this is just a load of bullshit! Why do they have to intervene? We’re perfectly capable of handling this.” Jason huffs and crosses his arms over his chest as he leans back in his chair. He can’t believe what he's hearing.
On the opposite side of the table Bruce levels him with a hard look. “Watch your language Jason.”
Jason blinks before sitting up straight. “What, it’s not like the kid is currently around to overhear."
“Jason!”
Glaring at the man, Jason scowls. This seems to be a regular topic of conversation between them recently because according to Bruce Jason swears too much, especially when he’s around Damian. The man, for whatever reason, wants Jason to be a good role model for the kid and apparently that includes him not swearing.
So now anytime he swears, Bruce points it out with a matching scolding tone and expression.
It’s a ridiculous notion because Jason being who he is was brought up with swearing, living on the streets for so many years exposed him to all kinds of things, one of which being the language people use. Swearing is just part of his vocabulary, half of the time he isn’t even aware he is doing it. As long as he’s not swearing at someone, then surely there should be some leniency.
“Oh come on!” He exclaims with a wave of his hands. “He’s been raised as an assassin, he was already tainted before we even met. Me saying a few words isn’t doing any harm.”
Before Bruce could respond a new voice joins the conversation. “To be fair you do swear a lot. Maybe you should try and tone it down.”
Jason turns to his right to glare at his older brother who’s lounging comfortably next to him. “Oh fuck off, Dick, no one asked for your opinion.”
Dick stares back unimpressed, he raises both eyebrows as if to say, “really?”
Jason recalls what he said and grits his teeth.
He points menacingly at Dick. “That doesn’t prove anything. Quite frankly I grew up in Crime Alley, of course I’m gonna swear, you hear it every minute in that place and typically as a kid you’re gonna pick up the habit. You know what they say old habits die hard.”
“Just like you did?” A different voice retorts with a snort.
Jason switches his gaze to Tim, who is opposite him next to Bruce currently playing with his phone, and blinks at him in surprise. “Uh, excuse me? I don’t know whether to be insulted or proud by that.”
It’s usually only him who makes death jokes so it’s come as a surprise to find Tim making one, a well-timed one too. Jason shakes his head, he’ll deal with those emotions at another time.
“Anyway, if we’re talking about who swears too much then why aren’t you giving Tim a lecture? He swears like a bloody sailor. If anyone needs reprimanding on his language it’s him!”
Tim abruptly stops fiddling with his phone and looks up, he rolls his eyes and glowers at him. “Jesus Christ that’s so immature Jason. How old are you, 10? I’m no way near as bad as you.”
His response gets a gleeful chuckle out of Jason. He knows exactly how the next few minutes are about to play out and he can’t wait. While the focus of the conversation had been on him, he’s glad for the opportunity to move it onto someone else and Tim happens to be perfect for the new spotlight.
Without any hesitation Jason digs into his pocket and grabs his phone. Once he has the device in hand he starts searching for the video he has saved for this very purpose. Call him petty, but he knew it would be good blackmail material one day.
“Oh really?” He drawls out, finally finding the video he had been looking for, “then what do I have here…” Jason clicks play and puts it on speaker so everyone in the room would be able to hear the audio.
After a second the sound of Tim’s voice could be heard. The teenager was clearly angry about something and certainly wasn’t holding back from letting his anger be known through his choice of words.
“You bloody bastard, why won’t you work you piece of shit. By god this is pissing me off now, I’ve been at this all fucking day and you’re still not fucking working. I am going to kill…”
The recording lasts for about a minute and is filled with Tim swearing his head off, cursing at everything and everyone and making empty threats. Once it’s finished Jason turns his phone off, puts it back in his pocket and leans back in his chair feeling smug about the situation.
“I rest my case.”
His words are met with a stunned silence in the room. Tim is blushing hard with his head buried in his hands. Next to him Bruce looks concerned, probably for Tim’s mental health and wellbeing. Dick’s staring at Tim with shock spread across his features.
After a few beats Tim lifts his head from his hands but keeps his eyes down staring at the table so he could avoid everyone’s eyes. “Okay in my defence the technology was really piss–annoying me. It wouldn’t work and I couldn’t work out why so I got frustrated and that happened.”
His response makes Jason snort and causes Dick to shake his head in disbelief. He knew Tim could be feisty but until that moment he never realised how bad his temper could get. Jason’s honestly impressed. However that doesn’t mean he’s letting Tim get away with it, especially when he’s getting blamed for something Tim does just as much of as him.
If he's going down then he’s dragging Tim down with him. It’s just unfortunate that he doesn’t have anything on Dick.
Jason’s broken out of his thoughts on ways he could get blackmail material on Dick when Tim speaks up again. He’s finally looking up at everyone though his still flushed face shows his prior embarrassment.
“Let’s be honest, is swearing really all that bad? As long as we’re not swearing at people then I think it’s fine. We’re not harming anyone. Who cares if we swear a little too much. And anyway, doesn’t everyone swear at some point?”
“Clark doesn’t.” Dick pipes up next to him.
Jason snorts. “That’s because big blue is a boy scout, of course he isn’t going to swear. He doesn’t count. Plus we’re from Gotham after all, it’s not like this is the most impeccable place in the world.”
Dick becomes thoughtful, humming his response. “Yeah that’s true I guess.”
“Boys.”
The three brother’s all turn and look at Bruce who had called for their attention. Jason had forgotten the man was even there, he had surprisingly been quiet until now. Maybe it’s because Clark was brought into the conversation, it must have peaked his interest. Jason files that information away for later.
“It doesn’t matter how much any of you swear, you shouldn’t do it at all. Damian is still young, he doesn’t need to grow up listening to that sort of language despite his initial upbringing.” Bruce firmly says, looking at each of them in turn. “You all know better and have good manners, going forward I expect you to use them.”
As Bruce rattles on about proper manners and the importance of them, Jason finds himself resisting the urge to smile. With every second that passes, it threatens to break out on his face. What makes matters worse is that he knows he shouldn’t smile, this isn’t a smiling matter considering how serious Bruce is being but the man is making it difficult to concentrate and to take the topic seriously.
Jason glances to the right to find Dick staring at Bruce with a hand covering the lower part of his face and Jason can tell that his brother is in the exact same boat as he is.
Apparently all it takes for him to break is Dick to glance at him and for them to make eye contact.
After that Jason couldn’t help himself but to burst out laughing, next to him Dick also breaks out into a fit of giggles. They laugh for a good while until they’re able to start calming down, by that point Jason’s cheeks are hurting and he even had tears forming in his eyes. As he takes a deep breath to compose himself he makes the mistake of looking over at Dick again, Dick looks back at him too and just like that they fall into another uncontrollable laughing fit.
While laughing Jason gets a glimpse of a confused looking Tim and a disappointed Bruce, but it’s Bruce’s scowling expression that triggers off another wave of giggles.
It takes even longer for the two of them to calm down. As he sits there Jason repeatedly takes deep breaths in order to collect himself. Once he’s calmed down a little, now able to breathe somewhat normally, he could feel how his sides are aching, how his cheeks hurt from the wide smiling and the tears coming from his eyes. He can’t remember the last time he laughed so hard that it hurt, and over something so trivial nonetheless.
When it feels like he’s finally composed himself he risks a glance at Dick to find his brother also in the state of calming down though there’s still a wide grin on face. He then looks at Bruce who is still staring at the two of them with his disappointed look. That’s almost enough to set himself off again. Almost.
“If you’re both quite done, we have important business to discuss, may I remind you that being the reason we’re meeting to begin with.”
“Hey, you’re the one who started on the whole language topic that derailed us in the beginning.” Jason defends himself and his brother’s. All Bruce does is huff at that, knowing Jason is right and can’t defend himself against it otherwise. Jason smirks victoriously.
Opposite him, Tim sighs loudly and makes a show to sitting up straight and sorting out some of the paperwork between them all on table. “Enough already, can we just go over the details and the police reports again and get to the end of this. I have better things to do than hear everyone bicker about language and manners.”
Dick gives the youngest a side look. “What you got planned? Is that who you were messaging just now? Is it your boyfriend?”
“What? No. Just friends. I ain’t telling you.” Tim snaps glaring at Dick.
Jason whistles. “Timmy’s getting some tonight then eh? Make sure to stay safe and use protection.”
“Jason!”
“Well he’s not wrong Tim, but where are you going? We need to know so if something happens we know where to look first.” Dick’s looking more concerned by the minute and Jason could see the flip switch from carefree older brother to over-bearing mother hen.
Tim blinks at them before turning his gaze to Bruce. In a whining voice he pleads the man, “Bruce, get them to stop!”
To begin with all Bruce does is run a hand over his face like he’s regretting every life choice he’s made and how he would rather be anywhere else but here. After a moment he sends exasperated looks at his eldest sons.
“Not much more to go, then we should be all caught up and ready to proceed with the case further tomorrow. Is it too much to ask for your full attention for the remaining hour?”
Jason sighs and sits up straighter, knowing play time is over and it’s time to be serious. One more hour won’t hurt, then afterwards there’s nothing stopping him from having a little fun is there. He nods at Bruce and picks up the piece of paper closet to him to examine the page. Dick does the same and finally Bruce proceeds with their meeting.
#batfam alphabet#batfamily#Jason Todd#bruce wayne#dick grayson#Tim Drake#humour#lots of swearing#probably more than necessary#Brotherly Love#sibling relationship#annoying siblings#Petty Jason#this got away from me#i don't know what happened#tired dad bruce#fanfiction
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Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 7 | If anyone is taking my wife out on a date, it’ll be me!
A/N: Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed). It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will. Keep your hate to yourself.
SERIES MASTERLIST HERE
Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)
Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt. Tom has an idea to solve all their problems. Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts. Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else. In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?
This Chapter: Tom finally pulls himself together to tell Molly he loves her. But is it too late for these two?
Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of: child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.
TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED! THANK YOU FOR READING!
--
Tom paced around the house for a good two hours. Each plan he came up with to win Molly back, more hairbrained than the next. None of them would have worked anyway. Tom didn’t know where she was staying. And she had been smart enough to withdraw cash from an ATM to use for a hotel room. During Tom’s muttering and ranting, his eye caught the vase Molly put the flowers from yesterday in. The sight of them enraged him so much that he flung them across the room. It hit the wall, sending glass, water and flowers flying and leaving a mark on the wall.
“Fuck! Another fucking mess to clean up.” he growled at himself as he went to clean it up.
Tom sliced open a finger and the palm of his right hand, picking up the glass shards to bin them.
“Christ, Thomas! Can’t do anything right. Break the vase and make a mess, cut your hand to hell, destroy the one good thing…”
He collapsed into sobs against the wall, covering his eyes with his non-injured hand. The other hand hung at his side, blood dripping onto the floor. It took a good five minutes for Tom to get himself off the floor. He poorly dressed the wound on his palm, having only the use of one hand and not his good hand.
Rather than bothering to clean up the mess, he let it sit and headed to bed. Not that he would do much sleeping.
He woke the next morning to more speculation in the papers about his marriage and a splitting headache. He fixed himself an espresso. His stomach rumbled, and he realized he missed dinner yesterday. Tom opened the fridge to find storage containers of fruit with little notes on them.
Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.
Tom chuckled as tears welled up again. “Oh, Molly.” He opened up the container and popped a piece of melon into his mouth. His phone buzzed.
“Ben.” he answered dryly, popping another piece of melon in.
“That bad? I suspected as much. How did you fuck this up?” Ben chuckled.
“I yelled. I called her stupid. I got jealous. But mostly I yelled. I never should have yelled at her. She doesn’t like to be yelled at. I promised not to yell at her…”
“You’re babbling, Tom. How on earth does a confession of your undying love turn into you yelling and her, sleeping on the couch?”
“Never got that far, and she moved out.” Tom sniffled. “I, I don’t know where she is.”
“Well, damn it man, find her and fix this. I can’t handle another six months of you moping about.” Ben groaned.
“What makes you think she’ll take me back. I broke her trust. I did the one thing—”
“She will take you back because she loves you. Don’t believe everything you read in the papers. Besides, didn’t Loki kick Captain America’s ass?”
Tom chuckled. “Only once.” Tom sighed. “But how am I going to find her?”
“Have you tried the phone?”
Tom glared at his mobile. “You are hilarious, mate. Yes.”
“One of her friends then. Surely, someone must know where she is staying.”
Tom shook his head. “She doesn’t really have many…” Tom snapped his fingers. “I’ve got to let you go, Ben.”
“Where are you off to?”
“I got to sell my soul.”
“To the Devil?”
“Worse. My sister.”
-
Emma didn’t expect to see her brother appear on her doorstep that morning. She had expected him to call first.
“I don’t know where she is, Tom!” Emma snapped back.
“You’re lying, Emma. Your brow always twitches when you are lying. Where is she, Emma?”
“I’m not telling you, Tom. She told me what you said.” Emma narrowed her eyes at her brother.
“And I need to tell her I was a right bastard.”
“Which you are!”
Tom shook his head. “If I tell you everything, will you tell where Molly is? I don’t care if she tells me to fuck off. I just need her to know I love her. More than anything.”
Emma opened the door wider and crossed her arms. “I’m listening.”
Tom stepped inside. “So you know how after the break-up, the papers kept running stories about me?”
“Yeah…”
Tom ran his toe along the edge of the rug in Emma’s foyer. “So I may have come up with the idea of getting married to give the papers something else to write?”
Emma’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. “So you’re not married. Mum is going to—”
“Oh no, I’m legally married. I’ve got the certificate to prove it. I agreed to pay off her debts in exchange for carrying as my wife.” Tom’s voice grew smaller as he explained the whole arrangement.
“Is Molly a—”
“Don’t even say it, Emma or I swear. Don’t speak ill of Molly. She is a nice girl who has managed admirably despite a horrific childhood. And I…” He struggled to find the words.
“Fell in love.” Emma finished his sentence.
Tom’s eyes welled with tears, and he nodded. “I did. I didn’t mean to, but I did, Em. She is…” Tom choked. “… my world. I love her so much it burns me from the inside out and she doesn’t know. She needs to know. I can’t let her go without her knowing she is loved. By me.” A tear fell onto Tom’s cheek.
Emma stood there for a moment, silently staring at her brother, crying in her foyer. “You realize by telling me all this, I will have enough to blackmail you until the end of time to not tell Mother?”
“A price I will gladly pay to get the chance to talk to my wife one more time.” Tom gazed up at his sister. “Will you help me, Emma?”
She shifted her feet around. “She’s at the Park International Hotel, Room 223.”
Tom leaned over and kissed her cheek.
“Thank you, Em.”
“Go get the girl, Tom.” she smiled at him.
-
“Thanks for coming over.” Molly sniffled. “I know you’re busy.”
“Hey, hey.” Chris reached out and grabbed her hand. “It’s no trouble. You sounded so upset on the phone.”
Molly smiled over at Chris before her face crumbled as she cried again. For the looks of it, she had cried most of the night. Her eyes were puffy and rimmed with red.
“Sh, sh, sh.” Chris moved to envelope her in a hug, pulling her tight to his chest. “Tell me what happened. It’s about the picture, isn’t it?”
Molly nodded her head against him. “Yes.”
“I can’t imagine Tom getting mad about that, babe. We are just friends.”
“I know, right? But Tom got so mad and cold. And he yelled. He knows how… how.. I.. am with yelling.” She buried her head in his chest. “I thought he cared about me.”
“Of course he cares about you. He loves you, Molly.” Chris pulled back. “You’re his wife.”
“It’s a bit more to it than that, I’m afraid.” She wiped the tears away. “Our relationship is…” She was on the verge of telling Chris everything.
“Complicated?” Chris raised an eyebrow. “Tell me about it. And the fame only makes it worst. Everyone watching and judging. They have no idea what is going behind closed doors.”
“That’s an understatement.” Molly sniffled. “How do you deal?”
Chris smiled and laughed. “Not well. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m single.”
“A handsome guy like you?” Molly teased.
“I have my flaws. But my dog thinks I’m great.”
Molly laughed for the first time. “I bet he does.”
“But the important thing is that the two of you love and care for each other, and the rest of it is bullshit.” Chris sighed. “And you and Tom clearly care for each other. Why else would he act so possessive?” Chris smirked.
“You noticed that?”
“I could have been blind and noticed that. Tom has got it bad. And I can’t say I blame him. A beautiful, amazing girl like you. He’s a lucky guy. If you were single…”
Molly blushed. “Thanks.”
They sat in awkward silence until Chris smacked his legs.
“Well, this is awkward. I’m going to go get some food for us and bring it back, and we are going to figure out what to do next.”
Chris turned to leave. “Chris!” Molly called out.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for everything.”
“Sure, babe.”
-
Tom stepped out of the elevator and walked towards Molly’s room. The entire drive over, Tom went through his head what he would say to Molly. How he would beg her to come back. That he loved her. All that went out the window when he saw Chris leaving Molly’s room.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Tom bellowed. “Haven’t you done enough?”
Chris spun around and his eyes narrowed. “I’m here at Molly’s request. Apparently, her husband upset her.” he sniped back.
“And you’re here to comfort her? That’s my job. I’m her husband.” Tom’s fist clenched as he saw Chris smirking at him.
“You’re doing a piss-poor job, buddy. She’s been crying all night.” Chris jabbed his thumb at the door.
“How would you know that?!” Tom marched forward until he was toe to toe with Evans.
Chris looked Tom up and down. “Listen,” he ignored Tom’s question. “if things don’t work out between the two of you, mind if I date her? She’s seems like a great girl, deserves a good—”
CRACK! Tom punched Chris square on the jaw. Chris tumbled to the ground, holding his face.
“If anyone is taking my wife out on a date, it’ll be me!” Tom yelled back.
“Tom!” Molly stood at the door. “What the fuck?!”
“Molly!” Tom and Chris called out together. They both rushed to her, but Tom got there first, kicking a foot out to keep Chris at bay.
“Darling, I…” Tom reached out for her. Molly took a step back.
“How did you even find me?”
“Emma told me.”
Molly huffed. “Traitor.”
“She knows.” Tom leaned in.
Molly gasped. “You told her?! But she might tell your mom. Tom, I…”
“You’re worth the risk.”
“I should say so.” Chris piped up.
Tom’s head twisted around to glare at Chris.
“You’re still here? This is none of your concern.” Tom hissed.
“I was invited.” Chris straightened his shirt. “Right, Molly?”
Molly held up her hand. “I think you should go, Chris.”
“But—” Chris protested.
“Tom and I need to talk. Alone.”
Tom smiled at Chris. “Nice to see you, mate.”
Chris wanted to push the issue but knew better. He sighed. “Fine, but call me if you need anything, Molly. I’m still in town for a few more days.”
Molly nodded. “Got it. Thanks, Chris.”
“You’re welcome.” Chris shoved his pockets and walked towards the elevator.
Tom returned his attention to Molly. They stepped into her room and shut the door. “It hasn’t even been 24 hours, Molly. And he’s already in your be—”
“Did you just come here to yell at me again?! And what are you talking about?”
“Chris said you have been crying all night. I assumed…” Tom stopped. “He didn’t—”
“No, but thanks for thinking so little of me. Did you come here to tell me that?”
“No, I…” Tom stumbled over his words. “I was wrong. I should have never yelled. Especially knowing what I did. You were right, I was jealous of Chris. I still am.”
Molly tapped her foot. “Anything else? Because you could have sent all of that in a text. You didn’t need to come here. It doesn’t change anything, Tom. I.. can’t… keep…” Her voice wavered, all her hurt and emotions mixed up inside of her.
Tom swallowed hard and exhaled sharply. “I love you, Molly. I am…” He chuckled. “hopelessly in love with you. That’s why I got so jealous. I was afraid that…” Tom fidgeted. “… you would leave me.”
“You have a funny way of showing it.” Molly fidgeted.
“I’m an idiot.” Tom stepped forward, cupping her cheek. “I thought admitting I loved you meant losing you. Our relationship was never meant to be this. It was business. And then Chris came along and the two of you got along. I lost my mind.
“The heart wants what it wants.” Molly whispered, her hands lighting on Tom’s shoulders. “Tom, I…”
Tom pleaded. “Please come back. I need you, Molly. I will spend the rest of my life showing you, proving to you I am worthy of your love. Just please come back.” Tom pressed his forehead to hers, breathing hard and crying.
“I… I… love you too.” Molly whispered, starting to sob. “And you are an absolute idiot.”
They both laughed. Tom leaned in and his lips tentatively, scared she would turn away. Molly deepened the kiss, wrapping her arms around Tom’s neck, pulling him against her. Tom walked them back until she hit the wall. Molly gasped. Tom breathed her in and slipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting every corner of her. He wanted to know every inch. She clung to him for dear life, tasting him as well. There was heat and passion and everything Molly wanted. She leaned back against the wall, panting.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you like this for so long.” Tom continued to kiss her, in between words, stealing her breath. “Marry me.”
Molly giggled against his lips, cupping his face in her hands. “I’m already married to you.”
Tom’s lips trailed down Molly’s neck. “Then sleep with me.” He sucked hard in the crook of her neck. “Let me make love to you, darling. I need you.” He pressed against her, desperate.
“Yes.” The only word Molly could muster in the moment.
Tom picked her up and walked her to the unmade bed and placed her down. As he tugged his shirt off, Molly scrambled with her shirt and pants, tossing them onto the floor, leaving herself in just a bra and panties.
Tom smiled and licked his lips as he yanked his belt off and pushed his pants and underwear to the floor. Molly gulped as she took in Tom naked.
“Bra and panties too.” he prodded as he crawled onto the bed. “I want to see my wife in all her beauty.”
Molly shivered at his words and her hands shook as she unhooked her bra and slipped her panties down her legs. She laid there naked.
“Glorious.” Tom purred as he settled between her legs. His mouth latched onto one of her nipples, sucking and licking. Molly arched her back and groaned.
“Fuck, yes!” She grabbed the back of Tom’s head and pulled him closer.
Tom released her nipple with a pop and moved over to the other one. His hand snaked between their bodies to find Molly’s core, teasing her clit with his thumb. She bucked against his touch.
“Tom, please. I need you.” Her hand stroked his cock, teasing the tip along her folds. “All of you.”
“Then all of me you shall have.” Tom pushed into her, groaning until he bottomed out. Molly arched into him, filled to the brim.
“Yes!” she breathed.
Tom twisted his hips as he thrusted into her with long strokes, hitting that spot inside of her. Molly bucked her hips, wanting every inch of him. Her nails dug into Tom’s back.
Tom wanted the moment to last forever. Just him and Molly and nothing else. But his release edged near, and he wanted to please Molly first.
“Are you close, darling?” Tom growled in her ear.
Molly nodded. “Yes!”
Tom drew tight circles against Molly’s clit as he sped up his thrusting. “Come for me, my love.”
Molly soon came, clenching hard around him, causing Tom to come too, spilling inside of her. He carefully rolled off to the side, and pulled Molly onto his chest, smoothing her hair back and kissing her forehead.
“That was incredible, darling. You are…”
“So are you.” she interrupted, wiggling into the crook of the body. “Tom?”
“Molly?”
“Will you do me a favor?” She drew circles in Tom’s chest hair with her nail.
“Anything.” He held his breath, waiting.
“Take me home.” Her face breaking out into a sparkling smile.
Tom pressed his lips to hers. “On one condition….” She raised an eyebrow. “You move into the master bedroom with me. I haven’t slept a wink in weeks because you aren’t there.”
Molly laughed as she nodded her head. “Deal.”
#tom hiddleston#tom hiddleston fanfiction#tom hiddleston fanfic#tom hiddleston x ofc#tom hiddleston fluff#tom hiddleston imagine#tom hiddleston smut#accidently married
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not your duke [tom holland x reader]
➽ pairing: prince!tom holland x fem!reader (y/n)
➽ word count: 2.7k
➽ summary: at the dawn of the new century, you meet two men: one, your betrothed, and the other, a prince with a secret.
➽ warnings: explicit language, gothic era shit bc i live for that
➽ a/n: many thanks to the loml @earthlyholland for coming up with the title and urging me to finish writing this i luv u kiss
Nothing had ever drawn you into London. In fact, you were staunchly opposed to the idea when your father first told you that you were moving. What was the point of it? You knew that your father could conduct business as easily from the States as from England, but what’s done is done. You had lived in London for a short time, only a few months, before you realized the real reason why your father relocated you.
You met your fiancé at a party. London was known for its aristocracy, and your father’s banking business had put him in high regard with many of the British elite, so it wasn’t a surprise that you were invited to a New Years party. “The Osterfields,” your father told you. “I’m told they have a son only just older than you.”
“Really?” you asked, looking out the window, hardly curious. “His name?”
“Harrison,” your father told you. The carriage bumped along the street, and you swayed with it. “The Honourable Harrison Osterfield of Kingston.”
“Of course he’s noble,” you muttered. “Father, will you ever stop trying to marry me off?”
“Your younger sister is already married,” your father reminded you. “If it’s not soon, it’ll never happen. And Sir Harrison is a perfectly agreeable gentleman.”
“Agreeable to you,” you scoffed.
“He’s an Oxford-educated man,” your father pressed. “Well-read, which I know is something you covet. I’m told he’s a good conversationalist as well; I guess you’ll be able to judge that for yourself tonight.”
You cried out in opposition. “Father! Am I to meet Little Lord Fauntelroy tonight?”
“Watch your tongue, girl. You are to meet your fiancé tonight.”
The New Years party hosted by the Baron and Baroness Osterfield was what you expected, a lush spectacle of champagne and pleasing music and perfume. It wasn’t the sort of place that you usually found comfort at, but you tried your best; the Baron Osterfield was a close business partner of your father’s, and you couldn’t afford to muck everything up by having a foul attitude. “Lord Osterfield,” my father began, placing a hand on my back to usher me into his conversation. “Might I introduce my daughter?”
The man before you was older, his fair hair tinged with a bit of grey, but he was dressed wonderfully in his tails and a red tie. “Pleasure to meet you, miss,” he said in a sonorous voice. “You’re the lass that’s engaged to our Haz, yes?”
“So I’ve been told,” you smiled, and your father sent a warning pinch to your back through your dress. Attitude, you could hear him scolding you.
“Have you met him yet?” Lord Osterfield asked. “He’s a strapping lad; running around with his uni mates, I’m sure.” He looked around the room, bustling with activity, and he made a quick motion with his hand when he spotted someone across the room.
The space before you was suddenly filled by a young man, still older than you, blond hair and green eyes, a wonderful smile on his face and his cheeks blushed. His eyes sparkled as he looked at you, and he took your hand in a gentle but strong hold. “Hello, madam,” he said cordially. “I’m called Harrison. Haz, to most.”
“Haz,” you repeated slowly. “I’d rather keep with Lord Osterfield, if that pleases you.”
“Of course, madam,” Harrison said. “Might I interest you in a turn about the garden? It’s such a lovely night.”
You looked to your father for permission, and he patted your back with a nod. Harrison saw this and gave a smile, and you hooked your arm with his as he led you out into the cold December night. Harrison’s body was warm and you found yourself moving into him, and he finally stopped at a metal bench along the path. “Do you mind if I smoke?” Harrison asked, settling himself onto the bench.
You shrugged. Harrison took that to mean “No”, and he situated a cigarette in his mouth. It was rolled perfectly, either the work of a skilled amateur or a professional; either way, it was the smallest proof of his aristocracy. All of your friends smoked lopsided cigarettes that had tobacco that spilled out of the ends.
“I’m sure you like this as well as I do,” Harrison began. “I told my parents that I prefer to marry for love, but my younger sister is already married. They said it was getting to be--”
“Too late,” you supplied. “My father said the same of me.”
“You prefer to marry for love as well?” Harrison asked. Feeling slightly more at ease than before, you sat down next to him, fiddling with your skirt to lay right.
“I would like to,” you said. “But we both know that’s not possible.”
Harrison shrugged. “We only have a few minutes left of this year,” he said, looking at the Swiss watch on his wrist. “Who knows? Maybe 1900 holds newfound possibilities.”
You tilted your head. “What makes you so sure?” you asked.
“I’m not sure,” Harrison chuckled. A strand of blond escaped the rest of his styled hair, and you gently pushed it back, earning you a smile from your fiancé. “I’m just hopeful.”
“Hope can be dangerous,” you remarked.
“That’s true,” Harrison said. “But what’s the harm in having a little hope? Perhaps we can learn to love each other.”
“Perhaps we can,” you agreed. “I guess we have the rest of our lives to do that.”
Harrison smiled at you, and you huffed out a laugh. He pulled a drag from his cigarette, and he said, “So we’re getting married, huh?”
“Seems like it.”
There was a shout from the house, one that made Harrison look over, and you did as well to see a man, about the same age as Harrison, dressed nicely with curly hair, half-hanging out of the house. “Haz, get your stupid arse in here!” the man yelled. “Find your girl, the clock’s about to turn!”
“I have my girl, you git!” Harrison cried. Before either of you could say anything, the man slipped from the house and came over to the two of you, and Harrison rolled his eyes. “Here we go…” he whispered.
“This is her?” the man asked. He was British too, and he smiled at you widely.
“Yes,” Harrison said, and he stood up. You did the same, and Harrison carefully took your hand. “This is Y/N, my fiancé.”
“Ah,” the man said. “Hello, madam.”
“Y/N, this is one of my mates from university,” Harrison told you. “Duke Harold Holland of Kingston-Upon-Thames.”
“Call me Harry,” he said quickly. “Everyone else does.”
“Harry,” you said with a relieved smile. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Harry said. “Have you only just met?”
“Just several minutes ago,” Harrison told him, his arm snaking around your waist.
“Well, it’s quite cold out,” Harry said. “And the clock’s about to turn. Come in, madam, get a drink.”
“Oh, I don’t drink,” you told Lord Harry Holland of Kingston-Upon-Thames quickly. “It doesn’t agree with me.”
“No matter,” Harry said. “I’ll warn you, though: a drink completely agrees with your fiancé.” He gave a laugh, and you noticed that Harrison shifted uncomfortably next to you.
“Well, Christ, don’t make me out to be a drunkard,” Harrison laughed nervously. “You’ll frighten her away, and we only just agreed to go through with this.”
“Not meant to frighten you, madam,” Harry said quickly. “In fact, my oldest brother doesn’t drink. Perhaps you two will get along.”
“Oh, no, Harry, she’ll hate Thomas,” Harrison sighed. He looked at you, then added, “Thomas is quite a bore, honestly. Not nearly as fun as me, Harry or Sam.”
“Sam? Thomas?” you asked. You agreed that Haz and Harry seemed like fun, but anxiety thrummed in your chest. If Thomas was a bore to Harrison, you didn’t want to know what he truly thought of you. You could easily also be classified as a bore: you preferred reading and drawing to the piano or squash that was popular with your friends. You had done ballet when you were growing up, but were by no means athletic otherwise.
“My twin brother, Samuel,” Harry began. “And Thomas is… Haz is right, he’s an awful bore. He brought a fucking book tonight, can you believe it? What sort of sod brings a book to a party?”
“But Thomas is a good friend,” Harrison added. “He’s a wonderful listener and gives excellent advice.”
You nodded slowly. Thomas already seemed like a better match than Harrison, and you cursed your father. Of course he would match you with someone who wasn’t the best option for you. But no matter. Your fiancé offered you his arm and you took it, and you followed the men back into the ballroom. There was a renewed energy, and the ballroom was abuzz. You were introduced to Duke Samuel Holland, a man who bore a striking resemblance to Harry (as they should), and were briefly told about the twins’ younger brother, a boy of sixteen named Lord Patrick. The Honourable Charlotte Osterfield came after Sam, and she was giggling the entire night; she was engaged to Sir Tuwaine Barrett of Chelsea, another uni mate of your fiance’s.
“Where is Thomas?” Harrison asked, looking around wildly. “He promised me that he’d be my New Years’ kiss!”
“Did he swear to it as he did to Nadia?” Harry chortled. “I bet he’s gone home already. Slipped away without any of us noticing.”
The clock chimed, and Harrison turned his jade gaze back to you. You gave him a gleeful look over the brim of your champagne as you took a sip, and your body cowered at the bitterness of the French alcohol. “Happy New Year, dearest,” Harrison said quietly, just for you to hear. “Here’s to many more.”
You nodded. Suddenly, your chest felt tight, and your head was spinning, and you knew it wasn’t from the alcohol. You suddenly saw the rest of your life flash in front of your eyes: The Honorable Lady Osterfield, on your husband’s arm every single day, expected to please him and serve him. You didn’t want that.
“Y/N,” Harrison said, putting a hand on your shoulder. His eyebrows were furrowed, and you at least felt comforted at his genuine worry. “You look pale. Are you okay?”
“Yes,” you whispered. “Quite fine. I told you that alcohol doesn’t agree well with me.”
Harrison nodded, his lips drawn thin, and he turned to Harry. “Call her carriage,” he instructed him. “I think my dearest needs to go home.”
Harry nodded, giving you a worried look, but hurried off to do as his friend requested. Harrison took the flute of champagne from you and set it down, and he put a hand on your back. “I hate that you’ve gone ill,” he said. “I do wish we can see each other again, though. I enjoy your company greatly.”
“And I, yours,” you replied. “I really apologize for my behavior--”
“Harrison,” a booming voice came, and you looked to see the Baron Osterfield approaching you. “I need to speak with you, son.”
“Father, can it wait?” Harrison asked. “I’m a bit busy at the moment.”
“His Majesty needs to speak to you,” Lord Osterfield said. “A business venture, he says.”
Harrison looked from you to his father, and he chewed his bottom lip. “I’ll be right there,” he told his father. “I just need to escort Y/N to her carriage.”
“Harrison, Dominic cannot be kept waiting,” Lord Osterfield grumbled. “Especially not on such a matter.”
Harrison looked at you once more, then his eyes caught someone behind you. “Thomas,” he said. “Thomas! Come here, please!”
Your heart hit against the wall of your chest when you finally saw Thomas Holland. He was a well-built man, wearing nice clothes that were a bit worn in places. His hair was dark, and in frizzy curls, crawling down his face, as was the fashion. His eyes were the color of amber, his cheeks pink, his lips thin but like a rose. He had a book under his arm, bound in leather, a bit of paper sticking from the top. “Would you do me an amazing favor?” Harrison asked. “I have to speak to your father; can you escort Y/N to her carriage out front?”
“Y/N?” Thomas asked, and your heart warmed and melted just like chocolate. He had a beautiful voice, and you could just imagine the way he sounded as he read aloud.
“My betrothed,” Harrison said, gesturing to you. “She’s fallen ill and must be taken home at once.”
Thomas finally pulled his gaze to your face, and a lopsided smile came across his face. “Oh, of course,” he said. “Such an honor to meet you, madam.”
“Same to you, sir,” you said. “I’ve heard tell about you.”
Thomas’s smile faltered. “Good things?” he asked.
“Nothing but the best,” you said. You still felt dizzy, but Thomas’s warm hand on your arm brought you comfort, much more than Harrison’s did. “I apologize again, Lord Osterfield. I hope to see you soon.”
Harrison kissed the back of your hand. “Same to you, dearest.”
Thomas led you out of the crowded and loud ballroom to the front of the manor. “Lord Osterfield?” he chuckled lowly. “He’s your fiancé. You should call him by his name.”
You shrugged. “I can’t bring myself to,” you said. “I hardly know him.”
Thomas nodded. “I understand,” he said. “So… Harrison told you good things about me?” You nodded, and Thomas let out a laugh. You could tell that it was bitter, though. “Excuse my language, madam, but that’s a load of horseshit. You know it as well as I do. Harrison only puts up with me because my brothers are his closest mates.”
You were startled at his honesty. “I suppose that’s true,” you mumbled. “My sisters are the same with me. They call me boring, say I’m no fun.”
“The same is said of me,” Thomas said. “I’m perhaps the least commendable of my brothers.”
You nodded carefully, then tilted your head to look at his novel. “What are you reading?” you asked.
Thomas smiled. “You’d like to know what I’m reading?” he asked. “Are you actually curious?”
“Yes!” you said. “I just read the most wonderful novel, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. It’s called McTeague and it’s about an American dentist--”
“By Frank Norris?” Thomas asked excitedly. He pulled out the book to show you, and you smiled at the same one you had been describing. “It’s so entertaining. You’ve finished it, then?”
“Just last night,” you told him. “I won’t spoil it for you, but it was so wonderful.”
“Have you read The Picture of Dorian Gray?” Thomas asked. When you shook your head, Thomas’s face went red, and he laughed. “It’s my favorite. I could lend you my copy, if you’d like.”
“Oh, Thomas, that would be so lovely,” you gushed. “You’re too kind.”
Thomas shrugged. “You’re my best mate’s girl,” he said. “I’m obligated to be kind to you.”
You chewed your bottom lip. “And what of your wife?” you asked. “Am I to meet her soon?”
Thomas came to a stop at the edge of the steps, casting a glance out at the carriage that rumbled closer. “I am unwedded,” he said. “Courtships have come and gone, but none have ever come to fruition. My father believes in me proposing rather than being forced into marriage, but I’ve never found a lady that I truly loved.”
Your carriage stopped before the two of you, and the Osterfield’s servant opened the door for you. “Miss Y/L/N,” he said, then turned his attention to Thomas, and he lowered his head in reverence. “Your Highness.”
“Your Highness?” you repeated, and your heart flipped in your chest. “But I thought that you were a duke?”
“My brothers are,” Thomas explained. “But, seeing as I’m the oldest and heir apparent, I get a different tile.”
“Your Highness, though?” you chuckled. “What are you, a prince?”
Your laughter died when you saw the stony look on Thomas’s face. “Yes,” he said. “Did Harrison not tell you?”
You shifted. No. Please, God, you pleaded. Don’t let it be true.
A smile played at Thomas’s face. “My lady,” he said. “I’m Thomas Stanley Holland. Prince Thomas of England.”
#tom holland#tom holland fic#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland au#tom holland fluff#tom holland x reader fluff#tom holland x reader#prince!tom holland
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for you + yoon jeonghan
everyone in his life described you as his weakness, and he couldn’t even argue.
part one | part two
wc.10234 (LMAO) | fluff, smut, humor, etl/uni!au, ~new relationship stuff~, gender neutral pronouns for reader (but they have a pussy sorry), vague softdom/brattysub dynamics (guess who’s who!), there are - count em - 4 different sex scenes, more bff!gyu, filth, language, you know the drill, reader gets a lil tender, so does han, *sniffles* they just suit each other so well, please use condoms
this is where i admit that i wrote 20k of enemies to lovers garbage all based off a single line in falling for u, where they say they meant to drink a coffee with you but they accidentally chugged it bc theyre nervous. yup! all this mess for that one line! this is incredibly self indulgent and i apologize but also i don't because i needed this
~
visual culture was your new favorite class.
while there was absolutely no trouble making time to spend with jeonghan, your previous meditation time served as an allocated two hours every week where you could just sit and mess around with the boy you had growing affections for. the two of you would chat in hushed tones as the professor lectured, jeonghan’s fingertips tracing invisible patterns on your thigh as you diligently untangled his headphone cord for him, his thumb nails having been chewed too short to do it himself. he would bring you coffee on thursdays, when it was his only class of the day but your third and last. the caffeine was a well accepted afternoon pickmeup, and he never let you go after class without taking you out for lunch somewhere, claiming to be celebrating the end of your school day. then you might as well just come over to his apartment, he’d tell you. his place was closer than yours, he’d explain, swinging your hand in his. you didn’t wanna say goodbye yet, did you? afterall, the night’s still young, he’d tease, luring you with the promise of kisses between droopy eyed smiles.
jeonghan had become the complete opposite of your initial impression. he was sweet to you, genuinely, and if you liked him any less, you would say he was obsessed. you do say that, occasionally, when you’re hanging out with your friends and he texts you some purposefully cheesy line knowing it would make you roll your eyes, forcing you to mention him to your questioning friends, but you never truly meant it. you’d be a liar if you said every eye roll wasn’t just to cover up the faint feeling of butterflies in your gut. he always knew exactly how to make you want to see him, and you never hesitated to tell him when you did.
on one such day, when you had told him that if you went home you would need him to drive you into the woods and help you dig your roommate a clandestine grave, he stopped by your friend’s apartment after a shift, waiting dutifully by the door with his shoes still on and his hands shoved into his jean pockets as you searched the kitchen counter for your keys.
“serious, mingyu, what did you do with them? i know i left them next to the toaster.”
“i used your bottle opener, but i swear i put them on the coffee table,” he said, pushing back his hair as he looked around the small living room.
jeonghan watched you and mingyu tear apart the couch, trying to ignore the roommate that was leaning against the wall, eyeing him.
“where do you live?”
jeonghan blinked and looked at him. “uh, my apartment’s a couple streets over and a few-”
“roommates?” minghao watched as the older straightened his spine involuntarily, arms folded across his chest as he appraised his friend’s new chew toy.
“yeah, three,” he responded. minghao kept eyeing him. he fidgeted under the gaze, then coughed to clear his throat. for some reason unknown to even him, he said “they’re good people,” as though he was seeking some kind of approval.
minghao nodded slowly. “they act tough but they’re not. if you break their heart, i’ll break you.”
“what?”
“y/n,” he said, causing you to perk your head up from across the room while simultaneously clarifying. he lifted his hand and jangled your keys, holding them by the novelty hulk fist bottle opener. “found ‘em.”
“jesus christ, myungho, you had them the whole time?” you exhaled sharply, shoving a couch cushion back where it was meant to be. “don’t be a prick.”
you snagged the keys from him and shoved your feet into your shoes, taking the bag that jeonghan was holding for you.
“wo ai ni.”
you batted at minghao’s arm. “yeah, whatever. love you, too. see you guys later?”
mingyu threw up a peace sign from the couch, where he had promptly laid himself out after the search for keys had ceased, and minghao smiled as he waved you off and closed the door behind you.
you asked how work was, and jeonghan sighed, describing it shortly as work, but said he was glad it was over so that he could spend some time with you.
you giggled, knocking shoulders and slyly lacing your fingers between his. “cheesy.”
he gave you your favorite sideways smile, though he didn’t know it was your favorite, and you, again, ignored the flitting in your stomach that he always seemed to cause. “so, uh… myungho…”
you exhaled. “what did he say to you?”
“nothing, really,” he said quickly, knowing you would get mad at your friend if he told you the full truth. “i was just kind of curious if you two had ever, y'know…”
you looked at jeonghan. “you’re not jealous, are you?”
he looked back. “i don’t have reason to be, do i?”
“of course not,” you said, pulling your bag up on your shoulder. “i’ve kissed hao once, on a drunk dare, and we both agreed to never try it again. he’s like a brother.”
jeonghan nodded, thinking about the protective stance the tall lean man had taken when he tried (and maybe succeeded, though jeonghan would never admit it) to intimidate him. no matter the vibe he got, he trusted you, and he understood the intent - however, you made him want to do everything in his power to keep you happy, so he didn’t think this myungho character had much to worry about.
“oh my god, hannie,” you gripped his hand tighter, your other hand clutching his elbow. “look at that dog.”
he laughed and followed your gaze across the street to the pom that was nose up, walking beside its owner. “cute.”
“isn’t it?” you sighed. “god, i want a dog. i hate living in a dorm. i hate my roommate.”
“move out, then.”
“and go where? back to my parents’ place?”
he rolled his eyes. “into the apartment you practically live at anyways.”
“dumb, dumber, and dumbest?” you scoffed. “i would kill all three of them in under a week.”
jeonghan wondered which was which, then pushed the temptation to mention his idea of you living with him out of his brain. “sounds like you’re shit outta luck.”
you sighed, craning your neck to steal a look at the dog again. “i guess you’ll just have to get a dog for me.”
he smiled back, eyes lingering on your face even after your gaze went back to the scenery. “i have a question.”
you blinked at him. “yes?”
he watched a cloud for a second. “what do you call me?”
“hannie.”
he laughed. “i mean to your friends.”
you eyed him sideways. “are you trying to trick me into calling you my boyfriend?”
he eyed you back, a smile teasing his lips. “are you admitting that you call me your boyfriend?”
“what do you call me to your friends, then?”
“y/n.”
you rolled your eyes. “you’re the most annoying person i’ve ever met.”
“woooow,” he went, sighing and pulling his hand from yours to shove it in his pocket. “here i was thinking we were in a healthy, mutually respectful relationship.”
you giggled, tugging on his arm. “oh, shut up. we are. you call me by my name, and i call you by yours. that’s as mutually respectful as we can get.”
jeonghan rolled his eyes, but allowed you to pull his hand out of his pocket and put your fingers between his again. he had never been the type to hold hands in public, but with you it felt right. “whatever. it’s only been a month. i’ll break you eventually.”
you exhaled. “if you want me to tell people you’re my boyfriend, you just have to ask.”
“why would i want that?”
you pouted. “i dunno, i thought maybe you liked me or something.”
he squeezed your hand. “don’t flatter yourself.”
you laughed, forcing a smile onto jeonghan’s face, and he didn’t stop you when you changed the subject to the fact that mingyu had informed you that a dissected sheep brain looks a little too close to ssamgyeopsal for comfort.
one day, he told you that he thought you’d be different, back before you started dating. you were gentler than he imagined, despite your continued quick wit and sharp tongue. sweeter.
“i dunno,” he said, leaning back against the couch with your head in his lap. “in my head you would just be mean all the time.”
you didn’t take it as an insult. “the version of me you created in your head is no responsibility of mine.”
jeonghan thought you were beyond incredible. while his original judgement of you being rude, pretentious, and, well, mean hadn’t necessarily been wrong, he had found you to also be incredibly caring, thoughtful, and maybe the funniest person he had ever met. you would sigh about how broke you were that week, how you were sick of eating cup noodles, but you wouldn’t hesitate to spend the last of your budget on soju and kimbap for your friends on your walk to their apartment. you always picked up on his subtle mood changes - when he would press his hands to his temples as he tried to process his literature homework, your hand would sneak onto his thigh and squeeze his knee to remind him to let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, despite your eyes never leaving your own textbook. he swore he never saw jihoon laugh as hard as he did when you and mingyu went off on one of your stupid arguments that only best friends could have, especially after you called mingyu a “grey’s anatomy-worthy harassment claim waiting to happen.”
“seriously, why am i friends with you?” mingyu grabbed his drink from your hand and glared at you when he noticed how much lighter it was (you had said you didn’t want one but definitely stole more than one sip). “can anyone else stand this bitch?”
“i like them,” jeonghan said matter of factly, his chin in his hand and elbow on the table as he stared at you fondly.
mingyu rolled his eyes. “you don’t count, evil twin.”
jihoon had his back on the floor, hands on his face, still trying to recover from your grey’s anatomy joke, and mingyu’s twin comment only set him off again. you giggled as you watch him roll onto his side, and briefly looked around this new grouping you found yourself in, sat around the low table covered in takeout in jeonghan’s living room. “how come you call me every day, then, dr. hate-my-guts?”
“free therapy,” he said, not missing a beat as he shoved a massive spoonful of rice and meat into his mouth. jihoon coughed, and mingyu narrowly avoided laughing as he chewed.
“i don’t buy it,” jeonghan said, running a hand through his hair and leaning back on the other. he watched you steal from his plate. “i think you like y/n the same reason i do. they’re the first person that didn’t tell you what you wanted to hear just because you’re good looking.”
mingyu kept chewing as he stared at jeonghan, his almost tired gaze going to you before he spoke. “you guys are really made for each other, huh?”
you didn’t think it before, but everyone kept telling you two that, and it definitely served as a pretty good ego boost for the existing confidence in your newfound relationship. you, of course, enjoyed jeonghan’s company even more without the validating eye rolls and gagging noises from friends whenever one of you made some praising comment about the other. you thought he was funny when he was making scathing jokes at his friends’ expense, but you thought he was absolutely hilarious when he was muttering every stupid thought that popped into his head with the specific intention of making you laugh too loud as you laid with him in your bed, his hand rubbing your back, overly aware of the fact that your roommate was trying to study at their desk as you planted your hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter.
as more time passed, jeonghan found it increasingly annoying that you both shared bedrooms with other people, considering how easily you could tease him into a bothered red-eared state with just your words. times that the two of you had gotten yelled at by whoever had to witness to get a damn room, or whispers between drinks that turned into standing too closely at parties, catching each others lips teasingly. disappearing into a bedroom only to be interrupted before anything can happen by some combination of party-goers and friends that somehow always managed to ruin the mood for one or both of you in an extremely targeted way. you had managed to help each other get off, of course, and he loved the look of you sinking to your knees in a bathroom stall, gaze catching his while you unbuckled his belt, or the way you squirmed against him, stuck between a closet door and his hard place, your breath hitching as he dug his fingers deeper into you. both activities were satisfying in their own right, but it would never be enough for him.
then there was that frustrating time jihoon had walked in, catching you with your hand down jeonghan’s pants, and he would never forgive you for the way you hesitated to loosen your grip on him despite the interruption. those few seconds of sheer terror he had felt, making direct eye contact with his roommate with his dick hard and in a hand that wasn’t his, the only thing stopping you from continuing being his annoyed “can you let go, now?"
he had decided to get back at you, and he got the opportunity a week later, when he had woken up behind you in your bed with your laptop asking if you were still watching and your roommate sleeping only a meter or so away. his lips ghosting across your neck, rousing you from your shallow sleep just to find his hand gently squeezing your hip, running over your mound until you were begging him to slip it under your pajama shorts. he had to put his free hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as you melted under his touch, your toes curling against his shins as the string in you snapped, and you punched his chest when you finally rolled over and caught your breath for getting you so needy when you weren’t alone. he just giggled and looked at you, half lidded, then kissed you like he hadn’t just been muttering voyeuristic filth in your ear.
jihoon was going home for the weekend, and the second jeonghan had found out, he told you you weren’t allowed to make any plans and swapped his saturday shift with a coworker. you had laughed in his face when he told you he intended to keep you in bed the entire weekend, but part of you had been waiting just as much as he had.
on friday night, when the two of you were sitting on the couch watching some documentary that you could barely pay attention to, seungcheol asked again if you guys wanted to go to the bar with him and soonyoung.
"cheol, i swear to god,” jeonghan said, the arm over your shoulder stiffening as he pointed at his roommate. “if you ask one more time, we’re gonna fuck in your bed, and it will be messy.”
seungcheol groaned in disgust as you laughed. “fuck you, jeonghan. i was giving them an out.”
“sorry,” you said, your head leaning back against the arm. “i’ll try to get him to wash the sheets, but no promises.”
“you guys are so fucking gross,” seungcheol said, snatching his wallet off the counter and shoving it in his pocket as soonyoung came out from the bathroom. “we’re leaving before they jump each other. do you have everything? if you forgot something, we’re not coming back,” he said, pointing. “i’m not risking it.”
soonyoung patted all his pockets, nodded, then smiled and waved at you. “see you guys! use protection!”
“don’t take the sixth shot,” you warned, smiling and waving back. soonyoung laughed as he got shoved out the door by his roommate, and when it shut behind him, you felt a chill run up your spine for no good reason.
“we should probably wait a minute,” you said, turning back to jeonghan, who was already leaning into you and letting his gaze flicker unapologetically between your eyes and lips.
“or, and this is just a suggestion, we can decide that we’ve waited long enough and that if they come back after all of that they deserve to see whatever they see,” he pitched, his fingers already brushing against your jaw.
you blinked at him from only a breath away, his honeyed eyes putting a sweet taste in your mouth. you swallowed, your stomach feeling light suddenly. “or that.”
his lips were on yours as soon as the words left them, and your hand rose to grip the front of his shirt - one of the many plain shirts that seemed to rotate around the household. you fidgeted for a second, before deciding you were impatient and pulling away from him only to swing a leg over his and straddle his lap. he grinned at you, hands landing on your thighs, lips excitedly welcoming back yours.
you really enjoyed kissing jeonghan. he always started soft, gentle, with light caresses and reassurances of how beautiful he thought you were. though you never catch him applying any, you know he has a peach flavored lip balm hiding somewhere in his daily routine, and you tasted it on him as you dove a little deeper into him, his hands squeezing at your waist as your tongue dipped past his lips.
jeonghan also really enjoyed kissing you, which was both good and bad for him. good, of course, because you could happily trap him in liplock for hours, and he never got bored of your soft sighs and adoring touches and wanton noises. bad, though, because his enjoyment becomes incredibly obvious embarrassingly fast, and he wished he could wipe the smirk off your face as soon as you noticed, but he always found himself completely powerless against you when you decided there was something you wanted.
and so, jeonghan’s eyes flicked over your chest as you pulled off your shirt, tossing it to the side as you stood and spun around, planting your hands on his knees and spreading his thighs as you sat back directly on his already straining bulge.
“holy fuck,” he managed, fingers running over the soft fabric of your gray sweatpants before kneading at your ass. you wiggled against his grip before grinding down against him, satisfied by the reaction, loving how clearly you could feel him and the way he sucked in a breath. you made no effort to stifle the noise caused by feeling him against your already dampening core, even through far too many layers. he whipped of his shirt quickly, his hands running up your back, twisting over your waist and pulling your back against his chest. you felt his lips start at your shoulder, then a hand on your chest, then the other snaking down your stomach.
you chuckled lightly. “can’t take a lapdance?”
“from you?” his lips landed behind your ear. “absolutely not. you’ll make me cum, and i have other things i’d like to try first.”
you sighed, rolling your hips as deliberate fingers moved from your stomach to inner thigh. “ever the poet.”
he smirked against your neck. “try it again later. right now, you’re making me insane.”
“mm,” you agreed. “i’ll keep that bookmarked, then.”
“god, how are you this hot?” jeonghan almost laughed. “you’re so annoying, why are you so good at teasing me like this?”
you smirked as his hand ghosted over your core. “yoon jeonghan, you make it incredibly fun to tease you.”
“i refuse to believe that it’s my fault you’re this sexy,” he said, drinking in the way your head dropped to his shoulder and a moan fell from your lips as he ran a finger up your slit. even through fabric, he felt the arousal gathering at your core, making his cock jump against your ass. you smiled, a hand snaking against his scalp, tugging gently at the hair at the base of his skull as he bumped over your clit, his reactionary groan matching yours.
“baby,” you whispered, your breath hot against jeonghan’s lips. “please.”
he licked his lips, tongue almost brushing yours in the process, using his hand on your waist to grind himself against you. “please what, darling?”
“fingers, jeonghan,” you whimpered, arching your back against his chest slightly in hopes to get friction against him, but he stopped his grinding as you did. you huffed. “please, i need you.”
he nudged at your jaw, making you roll your head as he planted his lips on your neck. his fingers undid the drawstring of your sweats to comfortably push under the fabric, and he let out a sigh as he didn’t find another layer.
“you’re evil.”
you giggled, gasping as his fingers quickly ran through your wetness. “and it turns you on.”
you let out a prolonged moan as he pushed his middle finger into you easily, sucking the base of your neck between his teeth. you gripped him, nails surely leaving crescents against his neck as he groaned about how absurdly wet you were, and you said something about how he was in no position to tease when you could feel every time his dick throbbed against you. he asked if you were dirty enough to admit how long you hadn’t been wearing underwear, and he watched you lick your lips before you told him all day. he smirked when you brought your lips to his, moaning against him as he pushed a second finger into you.
his fingers curled deliciously against pressure points, making you gasp as you tightened around them. jeonghan watched your heavy eyelids as you tried to focus on him, he watched your chest rise and fall as it flushed. he brought his free hand up to pinch your already puckered nipple, your temple landing on his cheek in an attempt to hold yourself together.
“i can tell you’re close,” he teased, and you only whined in response, eyes squeezing shut as his palm rubbed at your clit with the gentle movement of his fingers curling in you. “are you gonna cum on my hand, darling?”
you nodded hurriedly, your fingers curling in his hair, then opened your eyes to find his. he smiled at you, which only made you feel as though your world was crumbling. your back arched against his chest again as you came, and he held you by your core as you squeezed at his fingers, lips leaving repeated kisses across your cheek and neck.
despite the orgasm, you couldn’t help but continue to grind down against jeonghan’s hand, and he indulged your neediness by pumping them into you again before slipping his fingers out of you and pushing you forwards. “wallet.”
you groaned, pushing your ass back against him, smiling at the way his hand tensed on your side. “no please?”
he stared at where you were rubbing against his length. “i’m either cumming in a condom or your ass. your choice.”
he gave you a smug look when you turned your head to giggle at him, but his face almost completely dropped when he realized you were considering it.
“okay,” you said. “condom. this time.”
jeonghan’s cock flinched against you again, to which you responded with a wiggle before pushing off him and walking to the kitchen to retrieve a foil packet from his wallet, leaving him staring after you dumbly. when you turned around to walk back towards him, he had shoved his pants over his knees, leaning back heavily as he stroked himself using the hand you had so graciously wet for him. you gulped involuntarily, suddenly aware of how much saliva was gathering around your tongue as you tore open the condom.
he watched you kneel between his knees, his hand stilling at the base of his cock as you lapped a wet line up the underside of it, tongue swirling over his head. he tasted like you, and you had to swallow again before you rolled the condom onto him. you stood, turning your back to him as you hooked your thumbs under the waistband of your sweats and leaned over slightly as you pushed the fabric over your ass. jeonghan’s hand tightened around himself involuntarily, his other going to feel you. squeeze your hip, pinch at the soft flesh. guide you down onto him as you braced yourself on his knee. you pulled at the underside of your thigh, spreading yourself wider as you sat back onto him, sighing as he stretched you out.
“fuck,” he choked out, both hands gripping at your waist to stop you from sinking more. “shit, you feel really good.”
you whined, rolling your hips back in need. “i’ll feel even better if you let me sit.”
he chuckled. “why do you think i stopped you?”
you looked over your shoulder. “two pump chump?”
jeonghan pulled you down onto him harshly, forcing a squeal out of you as you curled over yourself. it had been a long time since anything had been this deep, and you could already feel your release building with one touch of his head to your spot. “shut up.”
“shutting up,” you muttered, voice almost cracking when he held you still and rutted up into you.
“god, i can’t believe it took us this long,” he said, steadying you with his grip so you could roll your hips on his lap. “to get me in you.”
“m-maybe if your roommate ever went to cl-lass,” you stuttered, beyond pleased that you could finally relieve this frustration as you slowly bounced on his lap. “f-fuck, you feel better than i imagined.”
you could hear the grin on his face when he spoke again, running his fingers up your side. “have i been fucking you in your dreams, baby?”
“well, you sure - mf! - haven’t been fuh-hucking me in real li-” your sentence getting cut off by a whiney moan when his hips bumped up to meet yours. “god, fuck, jeonghan!”
he pulled himself off the couch, pressing his chest against your back. he pushed up into you, almost desperately, his teeth running across your shoulder as much as his lips did. you gasped, leaning back into him, spreading your legs until your knees hooked on the outside of his, his unrelenting fingers finding your clit, just to make you beg as he pumped in and out of you.
“please what, baby?” he asked sweetly, despite the hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and the way his eyebrows knit together.
“p-please, can i cum again?”
jeonghan groaned, almost taken aback by your complete switch in attitude. while he knew you liked it when he tried to take control, he had never seen you go down without a fight. “who knew all you needed to stop being such a brat was my cock?”
“p-please, h-hannie…” you whimpered, and he could feel your walls constricting around him. “please, i wanna cum.”
desperation became obvious in his own hips, just by taking in your face. he had gone into this with every intention of milking you of everything you had, but he was man enough to admit that your begging made him too close to cumming to stop. “get my dick wet, darling.”
your mouth gaped in a silent cry as you crumpled into his chest, your legs twitching inwards as he moved his hands to your hips and continued thrusting up into you, your walls squeezing him tight until he let out a low groan, slowing his movement until he eventually stilled completely.
the two of you stayed there, a sweaty, entangled mess on the couch, both just trying to catch your breath.
“fuck,” you said finally, and jeonghan thought he couldn’t have said it better himself.
after two packets of slightly overcooked ramen, a conversation about how leaving a used condom on cheol’s bed would not be a funny prank, and a generous spray of febreze fabric refresher, jeonghan watched proudly as you walked with a slight unintentional wobble towards his bedroom, assuring you he’d be right there as he rinsed out your bowls in the sink.
when he did finally join you, you were laying on his bed with your phone to your ear, and he crawled up over you as you giggled into the phone, knees spreading to accommodate. “hannie’s. i told you, i’m staying here for the weekend.”
jeonghan could hear mingyu’s voice on the other end, saying something about how he thought it was next weekend for some reason and that getting laid would be good for you, but he just smiled as he kissed at your neck, your free arm settling around him comfortably.
“why are you calling this late?” you asked, looking over at jeonghan’s bedside to confirm the time. “are you guys going out?”
“yeah, of course. rockbox in an hour. you guys in?”
you tipped your head to the side as jeonghan continued his gentle kisses up your neck, hands running up under your shirt, making you sigh softly. “nah, we have plans. cheol and soonyoung are there, though.”
“okay, no worries,” mingyu said, then paused. jeonghan took the opportunity to bite just below your jaw, gently rolling his hips between your thighs to make you aware of what he was thinking. “are you busy right now, or can you talk?”
a pang of guilt ran through you as you held your breath, trying to not audibly react to the movement against you. you hadn’t been able to sit and chat with your best friend in way too long. “i’m, uh, a little busy? maybe we could get lunch tomorrow?”
jeonghan pulled back and glared at you, a stark reminder that he had asked you to not make plans, but you just put a finger to his pouting lips.
“as long as it’s after noon, i’m down.”
“okay,” you said, brushing your fingers across jeonghan’s cheek and pushing his hair behind an ear. “one? two? stew?”
“one’s good,” mingyu said, his voice sing songy. “okay, i’m gonna get ready. have fun! use protection.”
you rolled your eyes. “everyone keeps saying that.”
“yeah, because you guys are crazy and no one wants to risk it.”
after your byes, you hung up and looked at jeonghan, who was still staring at you with disdain. you sighed. “it’s just lunch.”
“i said no plans,” he reminded you, pouting. “now we have to go get lunch with mingyu when i could be fucking you stupid in my roommateless bedroom.”
“no we don’t,” you said, running your hands through his hair. “i have to get lunch with mingyu. you can do whatever you want.”
“oh, so i’m not even invited?” his eyebrows raised at you. “you do realize i switched a shift so i could spend all day with you, right?”
you giggled. “hannie, i would love to spend all day with you, but i haven’t sat and gotten lunch with mingyu in a month. i miss my best friend.”
he groaned, burying his face in your neck. “stop making sense, i’m trying to be mad at you.”
“you can still be mad,” you said, your fingers softly massaging against the back of his neck. “i like it when you think you’re punishing me.”
he groaned again, hating how you could so easily say the perfect thing to make him forget about anything else. “you’re evil.”
you giggled. “and it turns you on.”
he adjusted against you, trying to ignore his increasing arousal despite his original intentions. “sometimes, you seem like my own personal demon.”
“oh, fun,” you vocalised, brushing your fingers knowingly through the hair behind his ear, triggering a huff as you hit your favorite soft spot of his. “two demons trying to torture each other.”
he laughed as he raised his head, propping it up with a hand. “would you consider this torture?”
“maybe for normal people,” you said, sneaking a kiss onto his lips. “but we’re demons, remember? this is fun for us.”
his lips pouted, less to make a point and more because it was their comfortable, natural state after your lips leave. “i think i like you a lot.”
your face burned. it wasn’t the first time he had said something to that effect, but it made your chest feel funny nonetheless. “that’s reassuring.”
“i’m serious,” he said. “i really like you. and i don’t like people.”
you smiled softly. “i like you, too, yoon jeonghan.”
he adjusted his elbows on either side of you. “i want to be your boyfriend.”
you stared at him. “nah.”
“aye,” he cocked his head, making you laugh. “you said all i had to do was ask!”
“i’m kidding,” you said, putting your hands on either side of his face, pushing his cheeks in. “do you want to meet my parents, too?”
he looked at the wall behind his bed. “maybe that can wait.”
giggling, you pulled him into a kiss. “okay, boyfriend.”
the smile on his lips lingered as you kissed him, and he decided it was time to make sure everyone knew you were officially taken.
“you could have worn a scarf.”
you rolled your eyes, pulling the hood of the sweatshirt you stole from jeonghan’s in an attempt to hide the purple marks on your neck over your head. “it’s not my fault he tried to kill me,” you said, tugging on the drawstrings. “how was rockbox?”
“good,” mingyu said, leaning back. “weird. vernon ended up on stage.”
you almost choked on your water. “and i missed it?”
he laughed, then pulled out his phone to show you a video. “seungkwan made him do the features on a beyoncé song. he killed it, though.”
you watched the shaky vertical video of vernon on stage with a boy you knew but never really spoke to, watching in disbelief and laughing at mingyu’s hollering in the background. “wow. bey seungkwan and jay-v. that’s pretty legendary. i can’t believe i wasn’t there.”
mingyu laughed, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “how was your night? productive, obviously,” he said, gesturing to your neck.
“good,” you said reflexively, then exhaled as you looked at your best friend. “like, really good.”
“okay, spare the details, but like,” mingyu tipped his head and looked at you through his lashes. “good good?”
“mingyu, you know i would never say this lightly,” you put your hands on the table. “the best. seriously. man has a surprising amount of stamina for how much he naps.”
“damn,” he sighed and looked away from you. “y'know, that makes sense. i’ve always heard he was good in bed, and you two have some insane chemistry.”
you spotted the waiter coming, and before they were in earshot, you hurriedly said “plus his dick is huge.”
“oh, my god,” mingyu reeled back, then realized what you had done as the waiter put side dishes on your table. as soon as they left, he glared at you. “why are you like this.”
you grinned. “you were curious, though, right?”
he squinted at you. “doesn’t mean you should just offer up the info.”
“when’s the last time i slept with someone?” you asked. “like, really. it’s been, like, almost a year since i hooked up with rubin.”
his brows ruffled as he thought. “damn, is that true? has it really been that long?”
“let me brag,” you pleaded. “please? he’s so hot, i’m gonna lose my mind if you don’t let me talk about it.”
“i don’t know if i can be friends with you anymore.”
“dude, he spit in my mouth this morning.”
“oh-kay, so you’re buying lunch,” mingyu said, sitting up suddenly. “damn, this morning? have you guys just been going at it like rabbits?”
“i don’t wanna hear it,” you said, pointing at him. “you had to tell me about every guy you hooked up with during your 'hoe-liday’ last winter, you can listen to me talk about a guy i’ve been seeing for almost two months.”
“fair enough,” he laughed. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you like this.”
you groaned, sinking your head to the table. “it sucks.”
he stared at you. “oh my god, his dick made you fall in love.”
“shut up,” you said, lifting your head to land your chin on the table, curling a paper napkin over your spoon. you pouted as you tried to come up with an argument, but failed. “he’s sweet.”
“he’s mean,” mingyu corrected. “but he’s sweet to you.
"and dogs,” you defended. “and kids.”
“oh, so he’s husband material all of a sudden?”
you shrugged. “i’ve dated people much less likeable than yoon jeonghan.”
mingyu sighed, eating some kimchi. “that’s true. we both have.”
“yeah, so stop making fun of me, asshole,” your eyebrows creased as you leaned back and crossed your arms. “try being happy for me for a change. didn’t you want this all along? trying to get me to ask him out?”
“i am happy for you,” mingyu said, showing some genuinity as he laughed, also leaning back as your food arrived. “you just make it really hard sometimes.”
mingyu had the courtesy of dropping you off back at jeonghan’s so he didn’t have to borrow seungcheol’s car to come get you, and as he pulled up to the familiar apartment building, he gave you his usual “say hi to your boyfriend for me,” as he put it in park, quickly checking his phone.
instead of your normal “not my boyfriend,” you looked over at your best friend and bit your cheek. “sure.”
mingyu’s neck nearly snapped to look at you. “wait, what?”
you giggled. “sure, i’ll say hi for you.”
“did you-” he started, then stuttered, trying to figure out what he was asking. “are you guys, like-”
“he asked,” you said shrugging. “i said yes.”
a grin spread across his face. “really?”
“well, actually, i said no. then i said okay.”
mingyu laughed. “yeah that sounds right. wow, y/n got a boyfriend.”
you rolled your eyes, pulling the hood further over your head to hide your involuntarily hot ears as you adjusted to open the car door. “bye, goo.”
“this is my best friend,” he said loudly, making you stare at him with wide eyes as some innocent bystander walked past the car, all while you tried to pull yourself out of the door. “beautiful, right? sorry though, they’re taken, i’m dropping them off to see their brand new boyfriend.”
“you’re embarrassing,” you said, pointing an annoyed finger, grateful the person only looked back once before continuing. “go home.”
“you have done ten times worse to me,” mingyu said, grinning from ear to ear. “have fun with the pretentious asshole that can’t make an americano right, yoon jeonghan!”
that made you laugh despite yourself, and you shot him several expletives before slamming his door shut and running up the stairs.
after punching in the door code that no one had told you but you had seen enough times to know, you announced that you had returned. seeing jihoon’s chair empty on a saturday was strange, but at least seungcheol and soonyoung were up to their usual antics of playing some game extremely poorly.
you stood and watched the screen for a moment. “you know you can catch the arrows, right?”
soonyoung looked at you. “you can catch the arrows?”
seungcheol groaned. “why would you tell him that? i’m actually winning for once!”
you giggled. “if you dodge when the arrows are coming, you catch them.”
“you can dodge?”
from the other room, you heard a muted “hurry up,” and you saluted to the boys as they argued, following your cue to exit the situation.
jeonghan was on his bed when you shut the door behind you. “what are they yelling about?”
you sighed as you walked over to him. “apparently soonyoung didn’t know you could dodge in towerfall.”
he watched you pull off the sweatshirt - the same one he had worn on your first kinda date - to admire the marks he had left on you, then blinked when he realized what you had said. “we play that game all the time, how did he not know?”
you shrugged, then crawled into his waiting arms. “he’s not very observant.”
you sighed as you settled against jeonghan, and he kissed the top of your head. “how was lunch?”
“good,” you said, smiling. “gyu is good. it was nice to catch up.”
jeonghan clicked his tongue. “you guys talk every day.”
“okay, yeah, but,” you adjusted to look at him. “talking on the phone and hanging out with other people is different. we can’t talk about the same stuff.”
“well, what’d you talk about?”
you smiled. “wouldn’t you like to know?”
he squinted at you. “aren’t we supposed to be a team now? no secrets?”
“okay,” you said, fixing his bangs. “what were you and seungcheol talking about in his room yesterday before i got here?”
jeonghan couldn’t help the tiny smile that worked its way into his face. “did soonyoung tell you?”
“i would never reveal my source,” you said triumphantly, knowing it couldn’t have been anyone else, considering jihoon had already left. “also, he was pissed that you kicked him out while he was still sleeping.”
“if i could have just dragged cheol into my room, i would have,” he sighed. “trust me. i can pull soonyoung out of bed, but seungcheol is dense.”
you inspected his lips a moment. “were you talking about me?”
“uh,” jeonghan adjusted under you, putting a hand behind his head. “no, not really. soonyoung got a job, and me and cheol are both working more now. i wanted to talk about getting a bigger place, since our lease ends in the summer.”
you vocalised excitedly. “does this mean you’d get your own room?”
“that’s the idea, yeah,” he said, grinning. “you could stay over more.” and while he hadn’t lied - they had discussed larger apartment options, and decided to start looking by the end of the month - he failed to mention that the main purpose of him isolating seungcheol was to confirm he was crazy for wanting you to join them if they did move.
“i mean,” cheol had said, barely propping himself up in bed. “it might be a bit too early to tell, but you guys seem like the real deal.”
jeonghan spun in soonyoung’s desk chair, arms crossed. “but i’m insane, right? like, we haven’t even slept together.”
“they’re coming over for the weekend, yeah?”
“yeah.”
“so let’s talk about it again on monday?”
jeonghan kneaded at his jaw, exhaling. “yeah, okay.”
now, you had slept together. not only that, but you slept together, all night, in the same bed, and jeonghan woke up with jumbled poetry in his head when he found you curled up by his side. despite living in this apartment for nearly a year, it felt most like home with you in it.
and he had told seungcheol, when he got home from dropping you off for lunch, that he was pretty damn sure he wanted to wake up like that every morning.
he wondered how you would react, if you would want to take the leap and move in with him. part of him felt as though he was taking advantage of your situation for his own selfish want to have you around all the time - you would do literally anything to avoid being in a dorm next year, but your housing budget wouldn’t accommodate for anything more than a goshiwon. while that wasn’t the worst option, you always talked about how much you missed living in a normal space, with a stove. a full sized fridge. a real bathroom, instead of a cramped wetroom. if he were to ask you to live with him, you would likely say yes, but would that put too much strain on your relationship too early? or would you think he was moving too fast and say no? his mind whirred silently as you buried your face in his neck.
“what’s on your mind?”
jeonghan blinked. “nothing.”
“liar.”
he sighed. “you.”
you lifted your head. “am i what’s making your heart beat so fast?”
he hadn’t even realized his pulse had quickened. he swallowed, briefly wondering if he would ever be able to truly hide anything from you. “maybe. what did you and mingyu talk about?”
you laughed. “i was hoping you would forget.”
“i never forget.”
“we talked about a lot,” you said, fiddling with the collar of jeonghan’s tee. “classes, summer plans, boys…”
he raised his brow at the last subject. “boys, huh?”
you smirked at him playfully. “yeah, our waiter was cute.”
he scoffed in your face and you giggled, then flattened his shirt against his chest.
“we talked about you. i told him we were official.”
“how’d that go?”
“he made fun of me, but it’s fine because i told him you have a big dick.”
jeonghan’s hand went from behind his head to cover his eyes, letting out a half-groan and half-“really?”, but the smile on his lips told you he wasn’t mad. “why? why would you tell him that?”
“he’s my best friend!” you laughed.
“okay, why did you tell me that?”
“i’d thought you’d like to know,” you said, pouting slightly. “he might respect you now.”
he uncovered his face just so you could see him rolling his eyes before he tried to sit up. “okay, no more cuddling.”
you whined, trying to keep him in place, but failing. “but i just got here!”
“maybe you shouldn’t have left in the first place,” he teased, getting out of bed to turn off the air purifier he usually only ran at night, but had been too preoccupied to turn off that morning. “i told you i intended to keep you in bed all weekend, but you didn’t care.”
“i’m here now,” you pouted. “in your bed.”
“take a nap, then,” jeonghan said. “i’m gonna eat.”
you groaned. “you didn’t eat while i was gone?”
“too busy pouting in bed. your turn.”
you floundered and whined childishly for a moment as he laughed at you, leaving the room without another word. sometimes you hated how similar you two were, but only because it made you completely aware of just how annoying you were.
when jeonghan returned, you had completely passed out, holding his pillow under your head as you laid on your stomach. he smirked in the direction of the sleeping body and fiddled with a few things - closing the closet door, throwing a rogue shirt into his hamper, etc. - before making his way to the bed to join you.
his touch was gentle. enough to rouse but not frighten. you squirmed slightly, recognizing the way his hand dipped into even the most subtle curves of your body as you laid out comfortably. you gave a noise of approval when it ran over your ass, squeezing slightly. jeonghan smirked again, and you turned under his arm to face him, a soft smile on your lips.
“g'morning.”
“it’s four in the afternoon,” he corrected.
you sighed. “and it’s a good morning.”
“sure is, babe,” he drawled, smiling as you planted a smooch. his hand ran unhurriedly up your back, under your shirt.
you hummed. “are you really horny again?”
“listen,” he mumbled, almost laughing. “i just want to get of much of you as i can, while i can.”
you supposed that was as good a reason as any as you kissed him again, only for him to pull away and straddle the backs of your thighs. he pushed the balls of his palms into your lower back on either side of your spine, and you let out a low moan. jeonghan did this on occasion, treat you to a back rub. he claimed it was because you had the worst posture he had ever seen, but you knew it was an excuse to get his hands all over you, and you couldn’t hide how much you enjoyed it. you adjusted to lay straighter, burying your face in the pillow when he hit a particularly evil knot and had to dig it out with a thumb. you groaned as his hands travelled up your back, sliding the shirt up as he massaged into your shoulders. you sighed as you got up on your elbows and ripped off the shirt, tossing it somewhere on the floor, exposing your full back to him, your shoulders and neck littered in his marks. he admired them, even planted small kisses atop a few, then worked his way down your back, curving his hands over your ass.
you muttered a quiet thank you, and he smiled, giving you a succinct “of course” in response. he moved down to your legs, thumbs sneaking in your inner thighs and subtly spreading you out despite your pants. you hummed, pushing your hips to meet his touch, encouraging him to knead at your cheeks.
“have i ever told you you have a great ass?”
you giggled. “it’s average at best.”
“uh, no,” he said, voice pitched upwards in a teasing manner. “i think i’m a really great judge in asses and yours is fantastic.”
“yeah?” you peeked over your shoulder. “what’s so fantastic about it?”
jeonghan’s fingers dug into it, eyes shooting up to meet yours. “well, for starters, it’s connected to you.”
he ran a thumb over your crease, making you let out a small noise in response, and you buried your face in the pillow again. “shut up.”
he smirked against your shoulder, hands running up your back again and one landing on the mattress beside you as he pushed his hips against your ass. “yes, boss.”
you sighed, arching your back to get as much friction as you could while he ground his hard member against you. he sucked at your neck, and your hands dug helplessly into his hair as you whined.
“are we teenagers?” you asked, huffing. “do we have to dry hump or can we fuck like adults?”
jeonghan laughed as he lifted his mouth to ghost over yours. “impatient. if you were better, you would have asked for my cock nicely.”
“better,” you repeated, hating the way a hard wave of arousal washed over you, suddenly wakening your senses like it was from the pacific. “for you?”
the tip of his tongue barely swiped at your lips, your jaw twitching slightly in reaction. “you gonna be good?”
you tried to focus on him, your blown out eyes flickering hopelessly to his lips. “i-i can try.”
and with that, jeonghan yanked your pants over your hips and down your thighs, scooting them down as you hiked your ass up slightly, hoping to tempt him as efficiently as possible. his hands found your ass again, spreading you out as you groaned. “look at you, soaking.”
you bit your lip, making a pathetic noise into the pillow to avoid talking back. “please, jeonghan.”
two fingers ran over you, and you tried to muffle your moan as best you could as your hips moved involuntarily, pushing into his fingers. he smirked down at you, wondering how far he could take you as he messily spread your arousal. “bet you could take two right now.”
“yes,” you said, gasping slightly. “please, hannie, please, i can take it.”
he pushed two fingers into you, barely even scissoring them before pushing in a third, making you bury your face in his pillow as you groaned. “i’ve been fucking you good, huh?”
you nodded frantically, pushing against his hand as steadily as you could. he noted your neediness, and indulged you by thrusting his fingers into you until you were whining rhythmically to his pace. he pulled a finger out, then another, and you instinctively threw a hand back to catch him before he pulled away completely. he laughed lightly, his hand easily overpowering yours and pressing a kiss against your shoulder blade.
“sorry, were you close?”
you exhaled sharply. “that was so mean.”
“i’ll make it up to you,” he said, pulling your hips further off the bed and pushing you further apart. he licked a wide stripe up your core, and you moaned deeply into the pillow, gripping it with all your power as his tongue expertly ran over your clit. “you taste incredible.”
you panted as you turned your head. “i thought you just ate.”
“i have a separate dessert stomach.”
your thighs buzzed and gut fluttered, and you wondered how he always managed to make you weak in the knees, even when his tongue was buried in you. it wasn’t long before you were gripping at his wrist, knuckles white, quaking as his lips guided you through your orgasm, and he lapped at your release, licking wet stripes up your inner thighs as well.
when he backed away, you exhaled again. “jeonghan-”
“what?” he asked, pushing his own pants down his thighs. he stood to drop them to the floor before straddling you again, pulling your hips back against him. “is this what you want?”
your hand found his thigh, urging him towards you. he rubbed the head of his cock, already shiny and scarlet, against your core, and you practically begged on the spot. suddenly, he pushed you into the mattress, pushing his hips against yours but fucking into your thighs. you whimpered, his cock rubbing against you absolutely deliciously, but not at all what you were expecting. he groaned into your neck, snaking a hand up under you.
“god, you’re so wet, i almost don’t even need to fuck your pussy.”
you yelped when his fingers found a nipple and pinched. “h-hannie, please-”
“please, what?”
you squirmed. “please fuck me.”
he looked at you. “you get one more try.”
for a moment, you looked back at him and your mind went blank. “please, hannie, i need your cock.”
he smiled. “was that so hard?” his tone and kisses were sweet, but completely mismatched the frustration bubbling in you as he pulled back, making you moan again as the head bumped over your clit. “do you trust me?”
“yes, baby, please just fuck me before i scream.”
with one hand on his cock, he guided himself into you, a moan tumbling from his lips as he felt you completely unsheathed for the first time. you gripped the pillow in a tighter fist as he filled you out, and it took all your concentration to not squeal in a way that absolutely would have been heard by the entire apartment. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you back onto him as he fucked into you. as you adjusted to him, you began to curse the fact that this was only temporary - you would have to go back to unreliably private quickies in a few short days - and you suddenly got the urge to really savor the way jeonghan’s cock felt in you.
he leaned over you, changing the angle ever so slightly and just enough to make you cry out, and he put a palm at the base of your neck, wrapping his fingers around it slightly as he pushed you into his pillow. “i could fuck you raw forever.”
you tried to catch your breath to respond. “i would let you.”
you internally celebrated the low groan that escaped him, and the way his hips pushed impossibly further into you. externally, you rewarded the movement with a matching moan, though you slapped a hand over your mouth when you heard the game pause in the other room.
“don’t want them to hear you, baby?”
you whimpered into your hand as jeonghan kissed a line up the side of your neck, steadily rolling into you.
“can’t even talk?”
you shakily pulled your hand away from your mouth, trying to stifle your noises with just your will. “cheol already hates me.”
“he doesn’t hate you,” he said, his voice getting slightly more labored as he continued his pace. “i bet he’d love to hear your pretty moans.”
you clamped your hand over your mouth again, resisting jeonghan’s luring the best you could. he smiled against the hollow of your ear, nipping at it slightly.
“i know you want to, baby. just let it out.”
as he spoke, he shifted his hips, making you let out a high toned moan that was barely muted by your palm, and you buried your face in the pillow to avoid jeonghan’s shiteating grin.
“i love the way you sound when i’m fucking you,” he said, his voice never raising above his lowest register. his ability to keep his cool as you were utterly falling apart was perhaps simultaneously the most aggravating and sexiest part of the whole affair. “and you always back up against me like a bitch in heat.”
you reached back for a hand, but he swiftly grabbed your wrist to push it against your lower back. your chest heaved, and you hurriedly added your other wrist to his grip. with one hand restricting your arms and the other pulling your hip back against his, he licked his lips at the sight.
“i’m going to wreck you,” he panted. “i’m going to make you forget anyone you ever fucked before me.”
you let out harsh breaths as your chest pushed into the mattress. “already have,” you managed, peeking best you could over yout shoulder to the glorious view behind you. you enjoyed the way his tongue shot out between his lips, the way he watched his cock fill you tightly. you even liked the way his hair flopped over his eyes, even if you thought he was in need of a haircut. but you especially liked that he looked like he got lost in you. like he would never want anything but you.
you came fast and hard, squeezing him temptingly as you whined into the pillow. with that, he pulled out and rolled you over, fingers hooking at your pants to pull them off completely. you bicycle kicked to help him, then practically pulled him into you as his lips crashed into yours, hands pulling you as close as he could while you both repositioned your bodies. your hand went down to position him at your entrance again, and you gasped into his mouth when he slid into you again. his teeth tugged at your bottom lip, one hand gently massaging the back of your neck as you whimpered against him.
“you’re being so good for me,” he muttered, purposefully brushing his lips against yours with every syllable. “have i finally tamed you?”
your legs wrapped around his waist. “no chance in hell.”
he grinned, letting you pull him into more sloppy kisses as he steadily pulled another orgasm from you, and you couldn’t help but want him to cum with you. his eyebrows knit as your hands dug into the hair at the base of his head, eyes barely focusing on your lips as you begged for him to cum in you.
“you’re evil.”
you could barely smile. “and you love it.”
you choked slightly, body edging into overstimulation as you came again, and jeonghan pushed up off of you to better chase his own high. he pumped into you, hard and rough, for a few more seconds before you felt suddenly empty and he was shooting hot ribbons of cum up stomach and chest.
you bit back a moan, arching your back slightly as he stared down at your chest, leaning down to lick his cum off your nipple. you gripped his hair again, squirming as he sucked lightly, lapping more cum towards the peak. you tugged at his roots slightly, pulling him up to kiss you before he got you hot and bothered again when you weren’t sure you could handle more.
“i can’t believe you pulled out.”
jeonghan laughed in your face. “i asked if you trusted me.”
you pouted. “i thought that meant you were going to choke me out.”
he kissed you again after a short chuckle, then sat up to grab tissues. “maybe next time.”
he didn’t say it like it was a promise, but he kept it like it was one.
and when your weekend of nonstop bedroom antics was over, you admittedly had fulfilled yourselves enough that the following privacy draught was almost bearable. sure, jeonghan asked you a couple times to come sit on his lap while he worked on lab reflections, and yes, it was much less innocent than one would think, but the two of you managed to keep unfortunate walkins to a minimum, which was only made possible by finally getting it out of your system.
also because you decided your thursday 7:30 was barely worth it most weeks, and jeonghan was always happy to run over to your dorm to fool around for a few hours while your roommate was in class.
#lol#seventeen smut#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff#seventeen scenarios#yoon jeonghan scenarios#yoon jeonghan fluff#yoon jeonghan imagines#jeonghan scenarios#jeonghan imagines#jeonghan smut#hannie#i wrote dis
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A Stray Bullet Part 5
Fandom: Gotham
Characters: Victor Zsasz, female!reader, James Gordon.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of someone dying in a car accident.
Summary: The reader is James Gordon’s sister and works for the GCPD and is dating Victor Zsasz. The reader has kept it a secret from her brother, until one day when she takes a bullet that was meant for him. Victor then shows up at James’ place to see the reader.
Word count: 3689
A/N: I had to re-work the ending to this part as I added new parts to it.
Shifting your weight from one foot to the other a couple of times to relieve the pain you were starting to feel from having been standing for far longer than your body wanted you to be, your head hung low with your eyes cast to the dark wooden floor. You were staring at a spot where a shard of glass had slipped between the grooves of two bits of wood, finding it interesting all of a sudden. Balling your hands into fists by your side and then relaxed them, wiggling the stiffness from your fingers to expel the tension. You thought about all the ways you could possibly answer his persistent questioning on the subject. You could always tell him the unbridled truth about your relationship with Victor, of course, you’d omit more than a few private details about the matter. But realistically, what good would telling him the complete truth really do? Apart from causing an explosive argument to break out between the two of you, and even then he’d insert himself more forcibly into your personal affairs.
James hadn't always been that way, he used to give you some semblance of privacy when growing up. In fact, he had only been this way since your father had been killed in the car accident with a drunk driver a good few years ago now. Inserting himself into your life whenever something dangerous came along, becoming overprotective and doing whatever he could to make sure you're safe. When he became a detective at the GCPD it only seemed to amplify his need to keep you safe, and while it was sweet knowing that your brother is always going to be there, you felt as if it was a bit too much.
And well, Victor Zsasz just so happened to be 'something dangerous'. James' reaction to you dating the famed hitman that quite literally shot you would set off a rather volatile reaction. There was no way for you to predict how he would act. Not to mention he had a temper that needed to be kept in check, which he was doing so well with.
This meant James needed to know all about it, right? So he doesn't lose his temper? He should know, he's your brother after all and not to mention you usually told him everything. The good and the bad, well to an extent. This was different, more personal and gave way to more chances for James to lash out at you or Victor or both. It wasn't as if you could keep putting it off, since he'd find out about it sooner or later. Later would be a huge mess, however, telling him sooner could be just as bad. Perhaps you could settle on telling him half-truths? It wouldn't make him angry if you let some details slip while keeping the key ones close to your chest.
The most difficult part was trying to mentally convince yourself to do it. To tell him the truth, no matter how angry he is going to be about you keeping it a secret. Or at the very least to give him something small to go off of, anything at all to keep him from questioning you further. The choice was hard to make, but it needed to be made, and you were the only one who could make it.
With a firm nod of your head at your decision to tell him half-truths, your tongue shot out between your lips as you tilted your head to the side and finally managed to tear your gaze away from the glass shard between the floorboards and over to the couch where James currently resided. His arms crossed over his chest still, tapping away at his upper arms with his fingers impatiently, waiting for you to answer. You could tell he wanted to ask again and if you didn't give an answer he was going to be displeased with you.
"Okay," you breathed out to calm yourself, flexing your hands once more. "Grace was right, I am dating someone." You begrudgingly admitted in the hopes that the thick and heavy tension that fell around you and James like a thick blanket of smoke within the last couple of minutes would clear, and give way to something that would make breathing feel less like a chore than it seemed to feel like in this very moment.
Finally, admitting your secret to your brother seemed to make little to no difference, if anything it felt as if the tension had got far worse between you and James. It felt it coiled around your chest like a boa constrictor choking out its prey, making it exceptionally hard for you to breathe. You felt the full weight of your anticipation towards his reaction resting heavily on your shoulders, making you feel like it was getting harder to breathe.
You were hoping to blame the sudden feeling of weakness that began to wash over you on the fact that you've been shot twice and not on the fact that you've started to really worry. Your fingers curled and uncurled multiple times at your side, then pressed the palms of your hands against your thighs and stared at him. Waiting, watching for any hint of surprise, annoyance, anger, just anything to show you what he’s feeling.
"You're dating someone?" he asked, his gruff voice gaining your attention before you could allow your mind to wander. There were no underlying negative emotions as he spoke to you, still the tension remained and was in no way alleviated. In fact, it felt far more stifling now than moments ago when you admitted your secret aloud.
"Yes, I am." you answered in a low voice that's barely above a whisper. A single nod was all you could manage, taking a slow and small step backwards so that the back of your legs hit the soft cushions of the couch behind you. You automatically sat down as soon as you felt them, your hands going to your hap where you intertwined your fingers and rubbed your left thumb with the pad of your right nervously.
You averted your gaze, there was no way you could bring yourself to look at him. Not only that, but you could sense the disappointment dripping in his voice and radiating off of him, he tried his best to hide it, but you could still sense it. "Who is it?" he demanded, his voice raising even though he tried to fight the anger that boiled in his veins. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see his knuckles starting to turn pale from how hard he's gripping at the fabric of his jacket.
Oh, how you regretted the words that came from your mouth.
A grim look darkened the features of your brother, who is very obviously irked about all the secrecy already. "Who is it?" The sound of his right foot tapping against the floor sent a shiver of worry down your spine as soon as you heard it. Somehow you missed the rapid movement of his leg bouncing up and down anxiously until now, and for a brief moment you allowed yourself to wonder about how you missed such a simple yet very noticeable action. However, that thought was soon dragged away from you when your brother grunted, thoughtful about his next words. "How long have you two been dating?" You could tell his anger was burning just beneath the surface of his skin, itching to get out, wanting to be known, but he had control over it. For now.
"A few months now," you had hoped that you'd never get to witness his full anger in your lifetime. However, you were clearly heading southbound to face it head on and be on the receiving end of it, none of which gave you much comfort right now. "I also can't tell you his name." You felt like you had been put under a microscope, almost as if all of your expressions, movements, etc, were being analysed for any hints of a lie.
James sat next to you quietly and rubbed his wrist with his hand a couple of times before yet another grunt escaped from his throat, he pushed his jacket aside with his hands and then placed them on his hips. He pushed himself up from his place on the couch, "A few months?" He moved to stand in front of you, pausing a mere couple of seconds with his back facing you before he turned sharply with a burning gaze that made your skin crawl as the invisible flames licked at your flesh violently.
"Well, actually, if you want me to be more accurate, it is more like eight months." You corrected sheepishly, ducking your head and raising your shoulders to your ears, suddenly feeling vulnerable.
"Eight? Eight fucking months?" He said slowly to get his mind around the news. You nodded your head in response and sucked your lower lip between your front teeth. You didn't know if you should say something or not, so you settled for keeping your mouth shut. "Jesus - fucking - Christ, you've not only been dating someone for eight whole months without even so much as a word about it to me. But you can't even tell me his damn name." James ran his hands through his short brown hair, "or is it because you won't tell me? Hmm? Can't or won't tell me?" He said in an accusatory tone and extended his arm out in front of himself, pointing a large index finger at you. "Because I have got to admit; it doesn't feel like you're being entirely honest with me [Y/N]." With a puff of air, you pressed your lips together into a thin line. Finally, managing to gather the courage to look him in the eyes. You still can't bring yourself to tell him who you're dating, but at least you told him you're dating someone.
You reached up and slapped his hand from your face, "I won't tell you." You growled out through gritted teeth.
“Okay, fine,” he huffed out angrily and threw his hands in the air. “Keep being stubborn.
Rolling your eyes, you shifted your body to stretch out along the couch now that it was free. Your side and shoulder throbbed, the phantom pain of the bullets tearing through you made you shiver involuntarily, "Jim, I know you want to know who it is, but I do need some privacy in my life you know." You shot back, suddenly feeling less scared about his underlying anger issues.
"Okay, I get that. But what if they're dangerous? What then?"
You stared up at him, mulling the question over and hummed, "he could very well be dangerous." He shook his head in disbelief to your answer, you answered so calmly, like it was a normal day-to-day thing to talk about. You continued to stare up at him, jutting your lower lip out into a pout, and nodded your head in acknowledgement to his question. It wasn't like you were fully admitting that Victor was dangerous, however you received a dark look from your brother which made you choke back a small laugh of amusement at his attitude towards the whole thing.
“Can you stop joking around for one damn minute?!” James snapped at you out of frustration for the second time that day. “This is a serious discussion.
There was no way you would joke about something like that when you told him that your boyfriend could be dangerous. After all, you knew very well that he was, but you found it exciting and hot. Not that you would admit that very personal fact to your brother, or Grace for that matter. You didn't want to deal with them judging you. "I wasn't joking when I said that, Jim. I was simply saying that knowing could be dangerous." You shrugged and paused, tilting your head to the side as the gears in your mind started to turn as you tried to think of something that would reassure your only surviving family. This time, however, your voice came out much quieter than before. "I can handle myself. Nothing bad will happen to me while I am with him.”
"Right," he murmured unconvincingly, his dark eyes drawn to the bloodied bandages wrapped around your shoulder and side, just peeking out from under the black fabric of your clean shirt. "And that's why you're here," he gestured your way, "because you can take care of yourself. Okay, yeah. Sure." It was clear that the way you held yourself, like a bird nursing a broken wing, did very little to convince him that you could take care of yourself. He didn't even need to say that you could barely walk and take care of yourself right now aloud, his unspoken point hung in the air between the two of you like an axe pendulum swinging violently ready to hit someone.
James waved a hand in the air as if to dismiss the conversation and blew a heavy breath of air from his lungs. "Just get some rest, we will talk about this in the morning. And you better give me answers."
"That was my plan," you yawned out. You felt exhaustion once again wrap its arms around you tightly. A small noise of satisfaction escaped your lips as you stretched your legs out in front of yourself, relieving the stiffness you felt in your joins. "You're not dad, Jim," keeping your tired dull eyes on your brother who turned his back on you and rolled his shoulders as he went to leave the living room with a quiet grumble about something you couldn't quite catch.
He had only just stepped foot out of the large living room when the loud generic ringtone of your phone rang out through the room, causing your breath to catch in your throat. "Who the hell is that?" James spun back around and stood in the alcove, his eyes scanning the room quickly for the locations of the sound. He most likely thought that he had dropped his phone in all the commotion from earlier, or perhaps Barbara had left hers here. You were hoping he didn't think it was yours and that he'd leave it and go straight to his room.
Your eyes darted towards your neatly folded trousers resting atop your boots and then back to your brother who followed your gaze with his eyes the next time you looked back over to where your phone lay. "[Y/N], who is that?" He repeated the question, taking a large step back into the room.
"That's Grace calling." you squeaked out. Of course, you were lying, Grace rarely called outside work hours. That was, unless it had to do with something important, like your case. You knew exactly who was calling you, and your brother apparently picked up on the lie as soon as it tumbled past your lips. He's always been good at picking up on your likes, and it was infuriating to say the least. The rise of your voice did nothing to make the lie any more believable to your brother’s ears.
"Is it him calling?" The question itself didn't give off the vibe of something you should be answering; it may as well be a rhetorical question since he already knows the answer. He was smart enough that he didn't need you telling him something he already knew. Instead, you chose to shake your head quickly, shooting up into a sitting where you instantly leaned forwards as if you're getting ready to race him to where your phone continued ringing kept coming from. Much like you and James would do while growing up and one of you wanted to use the landline before the other. His eyes narrowed at you as he watched the sudden shift in your body language.
You sat rigid on the edge of the couch cushion. Of course, it had to be Victor calling you, and now James knew that it's someone important to you. He rapidly closed the distance between himself and the location of your phone. Just as he swept your trousers up in his hands and started to search them, you lunged forward, and he turned his back on you, making you collide with his back. He pulled the phone out of the front pocket, but as soon as he did it stopped making a noise. James's brows raised as he looked down at the small square that lit up for the longest moment before it dimmed and went black.
"For the love of god, Jim! Can I please have my phone back?!" You sprang away from him and teetered back a couple of meters. You hoped to hell he would pass the phone back to you before Victor called again, which he would do since you didn't answer the first time around, and he must be worried about you after what happened at the GCPD. "Please?!" You clasped your hands together in front of yourself in a pleading gesture as he turned to you, phone in hand.
“It is him, right?” James asked again, at this point you were getting tired of the repetitive questions. He pressed you for an answer because deep down he knew he was right.
"Yes. It is him." You answered curtly through gritted teeth. Your fingertips and nails pressed into the skin of your knuckles so hard it was beginning to hurt and put strain on your fingers.
A playful smirk made its way onto James's lips as his eyes darted down to the small screen on the front of your phone, the screen still black since last time. "Does he call you every night?" He hooked the corner of his thumb under the lip of the phone and flipped it open with ease to reveal the screen, which cast a white and blue hue of light over his face. His thumb hovered over the buttons that are far too small for his giant man thumbs, returning his curiosity filled eyes back to you.
"No." An obvious lie. “He doesn’t call me every night.” Another blatant lie.
Humming thoughtfully, he pressed the dark grey button in the middle of a small cluster of buttons to bring up the other options on your phone. His eyes darting back and forth between you and your phone as he pressed the smaller arrow keys surrounding the grey button until he landed upon the call log. "Jim!" You snapped at him, tearing your hands apart to reach out and snatch your phone from his grasp, but he pulled his hand away with a click of his tongue.
"I am not doing anything," he teased, the smirk on his face only growing wider with the way you're acting, like it amuses him. You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest, stamping your foot on the floor like a child being told they couldn't have any more candy before going to bed.
"Relax, I am just playing with you." He sighed out and was about to press one of the buttons when the small black phone in his hand buzzed to life, the screen lighting up and garnering his attention again. The words 'V calling...' displayed on the screen. "Hello?" James shot you a questioning look as he pressed the green button alight on the keypad without hesitation, picking up in mere seconds of the melody starting up. "Hello?" He asked again, pulling the phone away from his ear and looking at the small object in confusion.
Reaching out again, you took advantage of him being distracted and took your phone away from him. "Stop being a fucking jerk, Jim!" yelling angrily at him as you slammed the phone closed to end the call. You could only imagine the look on Victor’s face when your brother answered instead of you. James held his hands up, his brows furrowing.
"Your friend or boyfriend didn't even answer." He told you, lowering his hands as you stood there glaring at him. "And who is V?" You rolled your eyes, curling your fingers around the casing of your phone, holding it to your protectively.
"He didn't answer because you answered my phone and not me." You said defensively, "and it’s honestly none of your damn business who 'V' is! You need to stop acting like dad and more like my fucking brother. Not only that, but you need to let me have my own damn life!" That came out sounding a lot harsher than you intended it to, so you slapped your free hand over your mouth in a failed attempt to keep the words in. Obviously it was too late, and the damage was already done. You stared at him with wide, worry-filled eyes.
James nodded and took a step back to give you some space, an apologetic look on his face. "I am just concerned about you. And I am trying to keep the only family I have left safe and alive." With that he turned and walked away, leaving you standing in the middle of the living room with your hand over your mouth staring after him. You only dropped your hand from your mouth when you heard the click of the light switch and the light went out throughout the apartment. "Just get some sleep," he called back to you before slamming the door to his room shut.
Shuffling backwards while being as careful as you could be as to not step on the remnants of glass scattered across the floor, you sat back down on the soft couch cushions and leaned back. Your eyes adjusted to the surrounding darkness, you could almost make out a few shapes here and there, a couple of shadows as well.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered out after him. You pulled the scratchy grey blanket from the back of the couch and over your shoulder, covering your lap with it. You felt bad for what you said to him, you didn’t mean to sound so harsh when you said it.
Tag list; @sunlitwritings, @nheirei, @the-ramblings, @milly-louise
#Gotham#gotham x reader#gotham x you#Victor Zsasz#victor zsasz x reader#victor zsasz x you#victor zsasz x female reader#Victor zsasz reader insert#gotham fanfic#writing#fanfiction#fanfic#fic series#ASB mention#ASB part 5#ASBP5#A Stray Bullet#A Stray Bullet Part 5#reader insert#Female reader#x reader#x you#part five
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inevitability
Part 5 of the Domestic AU (found here)
Also on Ao3
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“So, when are you gonna get married?” Tony asks apropos of nothing, looking between him and Davey with keen interest.
Jack barely manages to keep from choking on his cereal. Davey, who’d been in the middle of spreading a bit of lox on a bagel, slowly sets down his knife.
Charlie aims a kick at Tony under the table.
“You’re asking them now?” he hisses. “I thought we were gonna ease them into the idea!”
“There is no easing them into the idea when it comes to Jack and Davey,” Tony says, his expression tight with the exasperation of the long suffering. “You gotta give it to ‘em straight, right from the get go, ‘cause they’ll never figure it out on their own.”
“Hey,” Jack says weakly, but he doesn’t have a leg to stand on and they all know it.
“So, I’m asking,” Tony determinedly continues as if Jack hadn’t said anything. “When are you gettin’ married?”
There’s a long pause where he and Davey just stare at each other, neither of them quite sure how to respond.
He gets this from you, Davey’s expression says, clear as day.
I know he does, Jack says with a commiserating look, holding back a sigh.
“Well?” Tony demands when the silence stretches on for too long.
“It’s a little soon to be thinking about marriage,” Davey eventually says, far more delicately than Jack would’ve managed. “We haven’t talked about it at all yet—”
“Because we only just got together yesterday, Tony,” Jack dryly interjects. “In case you forgot about that little detail.”
“—And we should probably start with the question of if we want to get married before we jump to the when,” Davey concludes.
Tony’s nose scrunches up, obviously dissatisfied with this answer.
“Of course you’re gonna get married,” he says, as if this is plainly obvious. “You’re basically married already, I just wanna know when the wedding’s gonna be.”
“Um.” Davey’s gone faintly pink. “Well, like I said, Jack and I haven’t talked about anything like that yet. We’re comfortable the way we are now, no need to rush into anything—”
“And since we literally only just got together yesterday,” Jack says again, a little more emphatically, just to make sure the point lands, “getting married right off the bat would be all kinds of crazy.”
Tony levels him with the flattest look in all of existence. “You’re crazy if you think you haven’t already been married to Davey for years.”
Jack’s voice catches in his throat, a little blindsided by the frank truth of that statement. Davey’s mouth opens and closes, the rosy flush of his cheeks shading a touch deeper.
“We’re not thinking about gettin’ married just yet,” Jack says once he’s steadied himself, in a tone that brooks no further arguments. “Dave and I will talk about it when the time comes, if,” he stresses clearly, “we decide that’s what we want.”
“But what, exactly, is holding you back?” Tony asks, stubbornly brooking further arguments anyway. “Like, do you have any actual reasons?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s none of your business,” Jack snipes back. “Given that that’ll be a conversation between me and Davey.”
“I just don’t understand what the big deal is,” Tony says, crossing his arms across his chest. “Pretty much nothing would change, except that the next time someone assumes that you two are married, they’d actually be right instead of simply noticing what was so obvious that even complete strangers clue in to it—”
“Tony,” Jack groans.
“—coming to the perfectly reasonable conclusion that you’re together—”
“Tony, that’s enough, we get it,” Jack says.
“—instead of the inexplicable reality of the situation which was that you were, in fact, not together, despite being in love with each other for eight entire years because you’re idiots—”
Jack covers his face with his hands.
“—and given that, like, every aspect of your lives are already tangled together, it’s not really that big of a step for you to just go ahead and make it official.”
Jack sighs so hard he feels it in his bones. “If we promise to talk about this, will you please stop talking about it?”
“Eight years, Jack!” Tony cries, impassioned. “That’s half of my life! That’s more than half of Charlie’s life!”
“Do not bring me into this,” Charlie quickly interjects, “I am a passive witness and nothing more.”
“You’re such a fucking turncoat, Choo-Choo,” Tony mutters with no real heat. “You’re supposed to have my back on this.”
“Maybe if you could ever actually stick to a plan,” Charlie grumbles back.
“We will talk about it,” Jack says loudly, interrupting their bickering before it can gain any ground. “Okay?”
There’s a moment of blessed silence.
Then Tony says, “So, like, right now? Or…?”
“Sure!” Jack says, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Why not? Clearly, I’m not gonna get any fucking peace until this is sorted—
“Finally!” Tony exclaims. “God, was that so hard?”
“—So go away,” Jack finishes.
Tony’s mouth falls open.
“What do you mean, go away?” he protests, looking genuinely shocked. “Why?”
“What do you mean, why? I’m not gonna let you sit here and fucking… moderate our conversation, dumbass,” Jack sputters. “Get out!”
“But I really feel like this is the kind of conversation that needs moderating,” Tony disagrees. “It’s not like either of you have a great track record for effective communication—”
“Anthony Ethan Higgins,” Jack warns, nearly at the end of his rope.
Tony rolls his eyes so hard his whole body moves with the motion. “I am literally just trying to help, you don’t gotta get all defensive about it—”
“Jesus Christ, Tony,” Jack says, completely and utterly done. “Will you please just— Just go somewhere that isn’t here.”
“But are you gonna talk about it?” Tony insists, really digging in his heels. “Because if you’re just gonna not talk about it the second I leave then I think I should—”
“Tonio, juro por Dios—”
“Tony, honey,” Davey finally steps back into the fray, far calmer than he has any right to be, and somehow, miraculously, Tony’s mulish expression softens into something a little chagrined. Jack gapes, wrong-footed by the sudden change. “I think you’ve made your point and given Jack more than enough heart attacks for one morning, yeah? So why don’t you go ahead and give us a few minutes, and I promise we’ll talk about it.”
Tony deflates. “Yeah, okay.”
“Thank you, baby.”
Tony shuffles away, mollified for now. Davey pauses, then says, “Charlie, that means you too.”
“But I didn’t do anything!” Charlie protests. “I’m just sittin’ here, tryin’ to eat.”
He takes an exaggerated bite of his bagel as if to prove his point, eyes extra wide and innocent.
“Charlie.”
“But my food!”
“Take it with you,” Davey suggests, very patiently.
Charlie looks as though that thought hadn’t occurred to him.
“Okay,” he says, scooping up his plate and scurrying after his brother. He hesitates in the doorway, then adds, “My vote is for an autumn wedding, if that counts for anything.”
“Charlie.”
“Going!”
Once he’s sure they’re both gone, Jack heaves another massive sigh.
“They’re such a pair of little shits,” he says, to Davey and the world at large. “Fucking hell.”
Davey takes a drink of his coffee, holding out his other hand to Jack in offering. Jack reaches over and laces their fingers together, most of his irritation slipping away in an instant at the simple contact.
“But he is right, you know,” Davey comments.
“I know he’s right,” Jack grumbles, rubbing his thumb gently over Davey’s knuckles. “Don’t mean he ain’t a little shit.”
“Well, naturally,” Davey agrees. “He was raised by you.”
“Oh, please,” Jack says with a snort. “That little spiel of his was all you. ‘The inexplicable reality of the situation,’' he echoes, shaking his head. “It was like hearin’ your voice comin’ outta Tony’s mouth.”
“And it was a well thought-out argument,” Davey says pertly, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a wry little grin. “His timing could use some work, though.”
“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” Jack says, huffing out a breath. “Didn’t even let us finish eating before he pounced.”
“It has been eight years,” Davey says, and he’s definitely holding back a laugh. “Guess he’s afraid of a repeat performance.”
“Well....” Jack trails off with a shrug, because that part’s hard to argue with. More than half of Charlie’s life, Jesus. “Yeah, but he was talkin’ like he expected us to walk down the aisle this afternoon. I mean, we can’t just get married. You don’t just get married.”
“Most people don’t,” Davey says, tilting his head. “But then, we aren’t really most people, are we, darling?”
It takes a moment for this statement to really register for Jack, and when it finally does, it lands with an earth shattering boom.
“Are you sayin’ you’d marry me?” Jack asks, utterly floored, heart pounding an unsteady rhythm in his chest.
“Are you asking me?” Davey asks, calmly sipping his coffee like he isn’t rocking Jack’s world, right here over breakfast, for the second time in not even two days.
“You want to marry me?”
This makes Davey pause.
“Why wouldn’t I want to marry you?” he asks, a confused little furrow forming between his brows.
“Stop answerin’ all of my questions with questions,” Jack demands, a wealth of feelings bubbling furiously in his chest. “Just— You’re serious? Like, you’d really just— Just like that?”
Davey looks at him, his eyes bright blue and utterly sincere.
“Just like that,” he softly agrees. “If you asked.”
“Well, I’m not askin’,” Jack snaps. His face colors immediately: “No, I didn’t mean it like— It’s just, I don’t want to seem, I don’t want’cha ta think—“
Davey reaches up and gently presses two fingers to Jack’s lips, and Jack’s sputtering slows to a halt.
“Breathe, darling,” Davey says, and the tightness in Jack’s throat eases in the face of Davey’s warm, steady gaze. “What’s got you so worked up about this? I get that it wasn’t what we were expecting to have to talk about this morning, but you seem… upset.”
“I’m not upset,” Jack says.
Davey keeps looking at him.
“...Maybe I’m freaking out a little bit,” Jack allows.
“Talk to me,” Davey prompts, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. “What’s wrong?”
Jack licks his lips, then blurts, “You know that I’m, like, wholly and unshakably in love with you, right?”
Davey blushes, a dash of red pooling high in his cheeks and cutting across the bridge of his nose, his fingers curling even tighter around Jack’s own.
“Perhaps not in those exact words,” Davey murmurs, smiling as he stares down at their joined hands. Even his ears have turned red—it’s kind of wonderful. “But I had something of an inkling, yes.”
“And you know that if it was just about commitment, if it was just about wanting to, I’d marry you in a heartbeat,” Jack continues. “We could go down to the courthouse today, if it was just that. I’ve been ready for you—for us—for years, sweetheart. I love you. You get that, don’tcha?”
Now it’s Davey’s turn to go speechless.
“Oh,” he says. “I… that’s…”
“But it’s not just about wanting to,” Jack says. “It’s not about being ready.”
“Then what’s it about, Jackie?”
“It’s about makin’ sure we do this right,” Jack explains. “‘Bout makin’ sure I do this right.”
Davey’s eyes sweep over his face, searching, then his expression turns tender.
“Jack,” he says, his voice full of affection. “You don’t have anything you need to prove to me. Not a single thing.”
“But I do, cielito,” Jack disagrees. “I need you to know that I don’t take you for granted. That you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. That I’d do anything and everything for you. That I love you.”
He lifts Davey hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of it.
“When I propose to you, and I am gonna propose to you one day,” Jack says, intently, holding Davey’s gaze, “It’s gonna be special. It’s gonna be sappy. I’m gonna make sure you understand how absolutely, stupidly in love with you I am. I’m going to sweep you off your fucking feet, because you deserve that, Dave. You deserve all of that and more.”
“Jack,” Davey breathes. “Jackie.”
“So I’m not askin’,” Jack finishes. “Not yet. Not today.”
Davey’s smile is a beautiful thing.
“But one day,” he says, leaning in to press their foreheads together,
“One day,” Jack confirms, and he seals the promise with a gentle kiss. “One day.”
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Tag List: @yahfancyclamwiththepurlinside @corbinthecowboy @stroopwafeldetective @amillionandonefandoms
#newsies#javid#jack kelly#davey jacobs#racetrack higgins#crutchie morris#the domestic au#*editor's note#*the writing desk#*final cut#thank you for your patience!#💕💕💕😊
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Sour candy kisses~ Nick Jackson x reader (NSFW)
You and Hangman are childhood best friends and you talk/text every day and your boyfriend Nick thought he was okay with it but his jealous side does come out to play slightly however you put his mind to rest and assure him nothing is going on in the only way you know how. (Sexy time ensues)
Hanging out backstage at AEW dynamite was always the highlight of your weeks, seeing your coworkers who became friends and your friends who became family made your Wednesdays just a little brighter. You were sitting in the EVP dressing room, joking and chatting with Matt and your boyfriend of 3 years, Nick. You loved having some downtime with Matt and Nick when you all weren’t running around booking the shows. You sat on the large comfy couch in the dressing room when your phone went off. Your brows furrow slightly at the unexpected interference.
Hangy:
Hey Y/N! You free?
You can’t help but smile at your phone when you see a text from your favourite lone cowboy Adam Page. You and Adam had been best friends for what felt like your entire life, You had met on the first day back in preschool and You were both the only wrestling fans in your school so you stuck to each other like glue. Your fingers raced across your phone screen as you replied.
Y/N:
Oh hell yeah I am! Meet ya in the café in 5!
You locked your phone and slipped it into your hoodie pocket before beginning to stand from the couch, shimmying out of Nick’s arms. “Hey, where ya going?” Nick pips up, You rolled your eyes at Nick’s protest at the loss of your body heat. “I’m going to meet up with Adam in the cafeteria, do you want me to bring you back anything?” You turn towards Nick in time to catch his face sour slightly. “Oh ok, nope I’m good” The bitterness towards Adam seeped into Nick’s voice. You shoot him a glare before you shake your head and leave. Not even wanting to justify his harshness towards the lone cowboy. “tell him we say hi” You hear Matt yell as the door closes behind you. As you walk from the EVP dressing room to the cafeteria you can’t help but grin at seeing your best friend. You don’t make it to the cafeteria when you hear Adam call out your name. You twist around to see Adam jogging towards you with a fast-food bag and two drink cups which you can only assume are milkshakes. “Took you long enough, come on let’s go find a table, I got something real funny to show you”
Fast forward an hour and you and Adam are still in the cafeteria, empty food containers stuffed back in the fast-food bag as you and Adam huddle around his phone to watch what felt like the 200th funny dog video he showed you today. “Look, look the dog is in the driver’s seat of the truck, why is he there? He can’t drive!” Adam could barely get a sentence out because you were both wheezing so hard. “Man, where do you find this stuff? This is the greatest thing ever!” Ever since Adam was kicked out of the elite, you were thankful whenever you got to see him be carefree and laugh like he used to. You pulled your phone out and nearly gasped at the time, Dynamite would be over at any moment so you had been in the cafeteria for nearly an hour. You see a text notification pop up from Nick.
Pretty Nicki:
Me and Matt gonna go with good brothers to grab a bite to eat, I’ll meet you back at the hotel. xx
Your brows furrow slightly at the bluntness of Nick’s message. Normally if he goes for food after dynamite, he brings you but you dismiss those thoughts and reassure yourself that it isn’t that deep. You reply to him, telling him you’ll get a ride with Adam and that you’ll see him back at the hotel later on. “Is everything okay?” You hadn’t noticed Adam stopped laughing and was looking very concerned at the suddenly sad look in your eyes. “Oh nothing, Nick is just going to get food with Matt and the good brothers.” You explained as you tucked your phone back into your jeans. “Without you?” Adam inquires, You’re slightly confused at Adam’s question. “I mean yeah, we don’t have to do everything together.” You turn to look him in the eye. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it, just a question. Do you need a ride back to the hotel then?” Adam was quick to change the subject away from Nick. “Oh yeah, do you mind? I hate to spring this on you” You felt guilty but Adam’s quick response helped put you to rest. “Y/N don’t be like that, you know you ain’t a bother to me. Go grab your stuff and I’ll meet you by the truck out front” You smile at Adam before grabbing the rubbish in front of you and standing to go throw it away on your way to get your things from the locker room.
There was a comfortable silence between you and Adam as he drove you both back to the hotel. One of Adam’s many country music playlists was softly playing in the background. As you rounded the corner into the Hotel car park you take your phone out to check if Nick text you back and he had read the message. You’re pulled from your thoughts by Adam cutting off the engine and hopping out of the truck. You follow suit and round the back to the bed of the truck to grab your bags when you see Adam handing them to you. “Oh thanks, hangy” you take the bags from him and he leads the way towards the hotel lobby. “Anytime darling, do you need to check-in?” He asks when you fall into step with him. “Oh No, Nick checked in earlier so I already have the key.” You pull your key card out of your purse and wave it towards him. “I see, I ain’t that organised so I gotta check-in, Talk to ya later then.” You and Adam stop in the centre of the lobby to bid your goodnight’s. “Alright, Adam I’ll text ya tomorrow morning.” You pull him into a hug and you give him a tight squeeze before releasing him so you could start walking towards the elevator towards the back of the lobby.
Slotting your key into the key card reader, you were happy to see that tiny green light flash allowing you into the room. You see the lights in the room are already on indicating that Nick has returned to the room before you. “Hey, baby I’m back” You give out a soft shout as you dump your bags and jacket on the floor beside Nick's luggage. You enter the room to see Nick sitting on the bed on his phone with his back towards you. Before you can say anything he stands and swiftly walks into the bathroom nearly slamming the door after him. “Jeez someone has an attitude all of a sudden.” You roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s attitude before you walk back to open your luggage to grab your nighties to get ready for bed. After you’ve changed Nick exits the bathroom, in his usual bed attire a pair of old basketball shorts and a black tank top. He stops to plug in his phone as you walk around him to enter the bathroom, leaving the door open behind you. “How was the dinner with the good bro’s?” You ask before beginning to brush your teeth. “Oh, you know the usual, Doc messing around, Anderson hyping him up and Matt being an idiot. Normal stuff.” You laugh at the understatements in Nick’s recollection of the night out. You spit out and rinse your mouth out before leaving the bathroom and walking to your side of the bed to plug in your phone and prepare for sleep.
“So how was your dinner date with Adam?” Nick pipes up as he sits with his back against the bed’s headboard lazily flicking through the channels on the TV. You eye him up before responding “Nick we’ve been over this, Adam is my best friend and that’s it.” He turns his full attention towards you before speaking again. “Oh really, is that why you were cuddling in the middle of the cafeteria?” You could tell he was getting irritated but so were you. “We were not cuddling in the cafeteria, Jesus Christ It’s like you don’t trust me at all sometimes.” You were tired and annoyed at having to defend your friendship to Nick. “I do trust you Y/N, I just don’t trust him” You roll your eyes at his lame excuse. “What’re you rolling your eyes for? It's the truth, I don’t trust him!” It took everything in you not to laugh at that. “Come on Nick it shouldn’t matter if you trust Adam or not if you trust me! You’re just being mean to him because you’re jealous!”
Nick let out a shocked breath before smiling. “I am not jealous of that idiot” You ignored his petty attempts to get you to defend Adam. you saw through his mind games. “I think you are” You’re getting giddy now, you’re under the younger Jackson brother’s skin. “Am not” He childishly quips back. “Oh you’re so jealous of my big strong cowboy” You stoked the flames in Nick’s eyes as you sat facing him on your knees. “Why would I be jealous of that bumbling drunk?” You were still smiling at Nick as he glared daggers back at you. “Hmm, that’s a good question why would you be jealous of that tall, muscular southern boy who was one half still the longest-reigning tag champs in AEW history, with golden hair and-” You’re inputted from your mocking when Nick grabs your knees to pull you towards him before you fall back so you’re now on your back with Nick towering over you. Your hips trapped under his with your legs spread to either side of his waist. He’s replying most of his body weight on his forearms which frame your head. His face mere inches from your own. “Are you done?” He leans down to growl into your ear.
You grin to yourself knowing you’ve won. You let out a small shaky breath before nodding into his shoulder. “Good, now as I was saying, I could never and will never be jealous of that dumbass cowboy because he could never make you feel the things I do.” He has your hips locked against the mattress and you can’t help but try to grind up against him. He smirks at your attempt at more friction. “I know what you want baby girl, but I ain’t gonna give it to you” You whine at this unfair denial of your pleasure. “Why not?” you demanded to know. “I need to hear you say it” You were confused at Nick’s request. “Hear me say what?” Nick raises himself so that he’s looming over you, his icy Atlantic ocean blue eyes staring into your own. “I need to hear you say that I am far better than that idiot in every single way, I have a better body than him, I’m a better tag wrestler than he could ever dream of being, I got the greatest damn hot tag in the business and I have far superior hair than him.” Seeing Nick’s arrogant in bed was intoxicating, he had never gotten like this with you before but now you knew you would be pushing his buttons more often. “Baby Do I have to? I mean I bet I could call up Adam and he’d give me whatever I wanted” You were being bratty but you loved it. “Oh baby girl don’t lie to yourself like that, he could never give you what I give you, he could never make you feel as good as I do.”
The passion in Nick’s eyes took your breath away. Nick shifted his weight onto one forearm as he moved his other hand down to roam the side of your ribs and to ghost your breast, arching your back towards his hand did nothing as he’d move before you could get the touch you carved “Nick I need you, I need you to make me feel good” You wanted Nick so bad at this point. “Hmm, I think I need some more convincing. Beg me for it.” Nick’s arrogant smirk was driving you crazy. “Please Nick, please you know you’re the only one that can make me feel this good” Nick was trailing kisses along your jawline as you pleaded with him. “How could I possibly turn away my needy little slut? I’m gonna make you feel so good you forget how to say your own name.” small moans and whimpers were escaping your lips as Nick nipped and sucked your neck slowly making his way down your body. “You’re wearing too many clothes, off, now” Nick demands as he stands up to tower over you as he strips himself. You rush to strip as quick as you can, throwing your clothes aimlessly off the bed.
You lay back on the bed on your bed as Nick stands naked between your spread legs. Nick’s hands roam your thighs before bends down to lay open mouth kisses along your inner thigh travelling from your left knee up to your crotch purposefully skipping your pussy as he travels back up your right leg leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake. Your attempt to buck your hips towards Nick is stopped by one of Nick’s muscular arms resting on your pelvis keeping you pressed against the mattress. Nick’s teasing streak continues as he delivers a long swipe of his tongue to your pussy just stopping before your clit. Before You can whine at his negligence of your clit he pulls back slightly only to spit on you before he begins to give gentle kitten licks to your clit, causing your moans to slowly build in volume. He gives more general attention to your pussy before he suddenly latches onto your clit causing you to scream his name. The onslaught of a rhythm he builds, long swipes of his tongue on your pussy before teasing your hole that was clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled before he focused his attention onto you pulsing clit, has the coil in your pelvis tightening by the second. You didn’t care if the entire hotel knew you were screaming Nick’s name at this point. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as the coil in your pelvis snaps and you cum onto Nick’s face. You don’t get rest as Nick continues to tongue fuck you through your orgasm. Once you’ve slightly caught your breath you look down to Nick still kneeling between your thighs with a sly smile on his face, before you can ask his plans you feel one of his calloused, long fingers tease your quivering hole. Your head falls back against the mattress as you feel his finger plunge onto you. He shallowly thrusts his finger in and out of you. You can feel him brush against your G spot and you are begging him for more before you even think about it. He grants your wish by sliding a second finger into you. You feel him resume his pace, thrusting his two fingers into you, the pressure against your g spot building and building. You felt him slip a third finger into you and your hand moves down to grab onto his head as the feeling of fullness makes your head spin. With the pace of Nick’s fingers being thrust into you, You can feel your second orgasm approaching. Suddenly he leans down and begins to suck on your clit and your vision goes completely white as your second orgasm of the night hits you.
He continues to thrust into you through your orgasm before he slides his fingers out of you. You whine at the loss. He climbs back up your body before he settles above you. He raises the fingers that were in you to his lips before they disappear into his mouth as he licks off your cum from his fingers. You moan at the sight of him licking your essence off his fingers before he takes them out and he lowers himself onto you to capture your mouth in a breathtakingly passionate kiss. Feeling his body weight pressing you into the mattress with his arms around you and his lips locked onto your own provided you with a level of comfort that only he could give you. Your hands rise from your sides to tangle in his long luxurious hair. You feel his hard erection against your inner thigh and you raise your hips slightly off the bed to grind against it. You hear a groan from Nick as his hand settles on your neck, holding your face in place as he moves back slightly to stare into your eyes. You feel Nick move his other hand down to his dick as he holds the shaft of it to tease you by sliding through your folds before he begins to slowly slip the tip into your hole. You can feel yourself trying to tighten around Nick, you feel the need to have Nick inside of you build and build.
Before you can beg, Nick grants your wish by thrusting into you. From the get-go, he sets a mind-numbing pace. Fucking you so hard and deeply that you feel like he’s fucking the breath out of your lungs. Nick moves both of his hands underneath your thighs to pin your knees up to your chest in an agonisingly good position. The coil in your pelvis was tightening with every thrust Nick delivers to you. Your moans were mixing with Nicks and you can feel his thrusts start to stutter as his own orgasm was fast approaching. You feel one of Nick’s hands move around your thigh so he could rub tight quick circles onto your clit. The sudden spike of pleasure causing your third orgasm of the night to hit you out of nowhere. Your pelvic muscles tighten and pulse around Nick causing his thrusts to stutter, he thrusts into you a few more times before he paints your walls with his cum. He releases your thighs before he collapses on top of you causing your break out into a smile. You raise your hands to rub his back and comb through his hair. He raises his head slightly to gaze into your eyes. “Did I make you feel good princess?” Nick smiles as you both break into giggles. “Oh yeah Nick, You made me feel real good” You lay gentle kisses on Nick’s face. You loved having Nick in your arms like this, his head nuzzled into your neck. You can feel the gentle smile on his face as he gives your neck lazy kisses. “I love you Nicki” You mumble “I love you too baby.” You hear Nick grumble into your neck as you feel yourself lull into sleep.
#Nick Jackson#nick jackson imagine#nick jackson fanfiction#nick jackson smut#AEW#aew imagines#aew fanficiton#aew smut#wrestling fanfiction#wrestling imagine#wrestling smut#the young bucks#pls be kind#wrestling#being the elite
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Leather Jacket
Summary: Your genius business idea seemed to have attracted the wrong sort of people to your brother’s bar- at first
Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x y/n
Word Count: 2.3k (one shot)
Warnings: Moderate smut, language
Author’s Note: This was supposed to be a shorter story but I got carried away :)
---
‘Same again, oh sweet goddess of the nectar.’
‘You keep that up George and I might have to take you home with me tonight.’
You smiled at the swaying, grey-bearded man supporting himself on the bar, before moving over to the beer tap and refilling his used pint glass. Most punters would get a fresh one each time, but George was never sober enough to care. Steve trudged towards you with a crate half-full of dirty glasses and dropped them on the counter exasperatedly.
‘Everything alright?’ You asked.
‘Not really.’ He leant against the counter and crossed his arms. ‘It’s the same as last night and the night before- I’m barely making ends meet. When I bought this place we had at least twice as many regulars as we do now. What am I doing wrong?’
You’d worked in your brother’s bar for three years now and you hated to admit it, but the place had gone downhill. It was clean and the booze was cheap enough, but there was no real reason for someone to stop there instead of at the three other bars on the street.
‘Maybe it’s not about what you’re doing wrong, maybe you’re just not doing enough things right...’ You were careful choosing your words, not wanting to upset him.
‘What the hell does that mean?’
‘Well, the bar down the street seems to have a little monopoly on attracting those biker guys- if we could get some of them in here we’d be sorted.’
Steve actually seemed to be considering your idea, which was new. Usually he treated you like a child.
‘I’ll think about it.’
---
When you arrived at the bar the next evening, you were taken aback by what you saw hanging in the window. A huge piece of neon-yellow card that’d been scrawled on in black marker.
‘Leather jacket = 20% off drinks’.
Christ. No subtlety there. It wasn’t exactly what you had in mind, but at least he was trying. You noticed that there were no bikes parked outside, so it must not have worked yet. Opening the door, you saw an empty bar, as usual.
‘Just give it time.’ Steve said to you at least ten times during the first two hours of your shift. ‘It’s foolproof.’
Much to your annoyance, he was right. About half an hour later you heard a chorus of motorbike engines approach the bar and then shut off simultaneously. Steve gave you an excited grin.
The door swung open and a dozen surly-looking guys in leather jackets spilled in. One of them, presumably their leader, approached the bar and asked Steve for twelve of his cheapest beers.
You glanced over at him. He was handsome- really handsome. Slicked back hair, stubble and bright blue eyes. He spoke with a pretty thick Brooklyn accent, joking with his friends whilst passing round the bottles. You only realised how inconspicuously you’d been staring when he met your eyes and gave you a knowing smirk. Whoops.
‘How soon is too soon to say I told you so?’ Steve propped himself next to you with a smug smile.
‘It’s still too soon.’ You feigned sadness, pushing past him to go on a glass run. ‘My feelings about the situation are very raw.’
Before you could move more than a few steps, Handsome stopped you in your tracks.
‘Could we get a couple more beers darlin’?’
‘Sure’ you muttered, trying to avoid the eyes of both your smug brother and the attractive stranger. When he took the bottles from your hands he smirked at you again and your stomach flipped.
Nah, you weren’t about to hook up with a random stranger at your brother’s dive bar- that’d be a terrible habit to get into. Next thing you knew you’d be waking up next to George.
You collected a couple glasses, absentmindedly humming along to the rock music that Steve played because he thought it gave the place ‘an edge’, when someone grabbed your arm. They yanked it, hard, causing you to drop the crate.
‘When you gonna marry me sweetheart?’ your captor slurred, uncomfortably close to your ear.
‘Rumlow you fuckin’ asshole, you know you’re now allowed in here anymore.’ You tried to pull your arm out of his grasp but he squeezed tighter and drew you closer to him. ‘I swear to god let me go or else-’
‘Or else what, sweetheart?’ His hot liquor breath spread all over your face. You backed away, just about to shout for Steve.
‘Or else you’ll be leaving on a stretcher.’ A gruff voice from behind you chimed in. You spun your head round. Handsome was still sitting on a bar-stool, holding his beer, but his head was turned and he was staring intently towards the two of you. Looking around, you saw that all of his leather-jacketed friends were doing the same.
Rumlow gave an indignant laugh. ‘You know who I am?’
‘I couldn’t give a fuck.’ Handsome stood up and approached the man who still had your arm grasped tightly. ‘Let her go and leave quietly, you don’t want any trouble.’
Your arm was finally released. The two of them were squaring up, you could see the shit heading towards the fan.
‘Alright guys, break it up.’ Seemingly from nowhere, Steve placed himself between them, setting a hand firmly on each of their shoulders. Neither of them broke eye contact. ‘Rumlow, you need to go.’
You barely processed what was happening, it was so fast. Rumlow swung his fist up and hit your brother right on the cheekbone. Steve stumbled backwards, and less than a second later five guys in leather jackets had Rumlow pushed up against the bar, with Handsome’s hand firmly against his neck. You sprinted towards Steve, steadying him on his feet and examining the side of his face intently.
Handsome didn’t take his eyes off his target. ‘You need him gone?’
‘That’d be great.’ Steve replied while you ushered him towards a bar-stool and found the first aid kit.
Rumlow was lifted off the ground by a cluster of leather and unceremoniously thrown onto the street outside.
Once the vigilantes had returned, Steve reached out to shake their leader’s hand. ‘Thanks for that. I appreciate you looking out for my sister. When she stops fussing she’ll grab you all a round of drinks, on the house.’
‘Anytime.’ Handsome replied, flashing you a wide smile.
The rest of your shift was, thankfully, pretty quiet. The leather jackets stayed for hours and almost bought the bar out of cheap beer. Despite the throbbing pain in his face, Steve was thrilled. If this kind of business carried on he might even be able to open a chain.
Closing time came, you grabbed your jacket and headed out, leaving Steve to happily cash up. When you opened the door you were marginally surprised that Rumlow wasn’t still lying in the gutter- he must’ve scuttled back to his cave.
It was a beautiful evening. You stood outside and took a deep breath of fresh air.
‘You need a ride home?’
Startled, you turned to your left and saw Handsome, standing by a motorcycle and finishing off a cigarette.
‘How much have you had to drink?’
He chuckled and dropped the cigarette butt. ‘Probably too much. How about I walk you home?’
‘It’s three blocks and I’ve done it every night for three years- I think I’ll be alright. Thanks anyway.’
‘Well why don’t you let me take you for a ride? Tomorrow night?’ He was persistent, you’d give him that.
‘My mother told me not to trust strange men with motorbikes.’
‘Am I a strange man?’
You smiled and turned to walk away, adding over your shoulder ‘Jury’s out.’
‘The name’s Bucky by the way.’ He shouted after you.
You didn’t look back, but you guessed that wouldn’t be the last you saw of Bucky.
---
As predicted, the leather jackets turned up at the bar again the next night, much to Steve’s delight. Bucky planted himself down on a bar stool in front of you.
‘Eleven beers and a tap water.’ He passed the beers out amongst his friends, shooting you suggestive looks over the rim of his water glass.
For the rest of the evening you fought an internal war. On the one hand, you were a grown-ass adult and you were allowed to hook up with devastatingly attractive men on motorbikes if you wanted to. On the other, you didn’t want to make a habit of hopping into bed with seasoned bar-dwellers. Christ, you wished you weren’t so susceptible to a deep voice and a good smile.
When you left, he was waiting outside for you again.
‘I’m stone-cold darlin’. How about that ride?’
‘If I say no, will you give up?’
His smile widened into a grin and you went a bit wobbly. ‘What do you think?’
‘Alright. Just to shut you up.’
You approached his motorbike, grabbing the helmet he was holding out for you. He straddled the silver machine and patted the seat behind him. Cautiously, you joined him on the bike, making an effort to keep a pretty sizeable gap between his back and your body.
‘You’ll want to hold on tight darlin’. I don’t hold back when I’m trying to impress.’
‘I think I’ll be alright.’
He gunned the engine and sped away from the bar. Less than a couple seconds after you’d set off, you found yourself swiftly closing the gap and grasping Bucky’s waist as tight as you could. He wasn’t joking about holding back. You buried your face in the back of his shoulder and felt his chest vibrating- he was laughing, obviously very pleased with himself. You stayed in that position for a while, sneaking peeks but quickly burying your face again when you saw how fast the landscape was whizzing past.
Finally, he stopped.
‘You can look now.’ He whispered over his shoulder.
Slowly lifting your head, you saw the breath-taking view. The Brooklyn Bridge, lit up and shining against the East River.
‘Holy shit.’ You whispered. Bucky laughed again.
‘Thought you’d like it. Beautiful, right?’
‘I’ve never seen it like this before, it’s incredible.’
You rested your chin on his shoulder, in awe. Both of you sat there in comfortable silence for a few minutes, bodies pressed together, feeling every breath and movement the other made. He closed his hands around yours, still resting at his midriff, and leaned his head back to look at you. You blushed, feeling his gaze resting on the side of your face.
The moment was shattered when you heard shouting coming from behind you.
‘Hey! No bikes in the park, asshole! What the hell d’you think you’re doing?’ You turned to see a dark silhouette with a flashlight sprinting towards you.
‘That’s our cue to leave.’ Bucky declared as the motorbike roared back into life and sped away. You couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Where do you live?’ He shouted over his shoulder, and you shouted the answer back.
A couple of blocks before your apartment, the heavens opened and rain battered down on the two of you. Still holding Bucky’s waist, you leaned your head back and closed your eyes- feeling the rain, the vibrations of the bike, the body pressed tight against yours. You’d never felt more alive.
When the bike stopped, you hopped off and wiped the rain away from your face. Bucky stood up and moved towards you. Both of you were drenched, both breathing heavily and not taking your eyes off each other.
He smiled, pulled you in by the waist and pressed his lips against yours.
Before you knew it, the two of you were spilling through your apartment door, mouths still locked, tearing at each other's clothes. He pulled your legs up to circle his waist and pushed your back against the inside of the door, moving his mouth down to your neck. Before you knew it you were down to just your underwear, feeling the wet fabric of his jeans scraping against your bare thighs.
‘You know’ he muttered, ‘you never even told me your name.’
You pulled his face back towards yours and, just before your mouth collided with his, you whispered, ‘y/n.’
‘Well, y/n’ he breathed between your lips, ‘where’s your bed?’
You slowly pushed him away before grabbing his wrist and tugging him towards your bedroom. Seeing the direction you were headed in, he grabbed your waist from behind and lifted you off the floor again, carrying you towards your bed. Your breath hitched and your head collapsed back onto his shoulder, your whole body going limp under his touch.
‘You like that?’ He teased, softly biting at your ear.
You were flung onto the bed. Bucky watched as you flipped onto your back and gazed up at him in anticipation. He slowly undid his belt, stepped out of his trousers and, not moving his gaze from your face, pulled his t-shirt over his head. Climbing onto the bed, he pushed your legs apart, settling himself against you and lowering his head to your chest.
Starting slow, building up your pleasure until you could barely think straight, he kissed and caressed every part of your body he could find. You occasionally heard a deep chuckle in response to your unbridled moaning, the gruffness of his voice and vibrations from his chest only sending you further into your spiral. You clawed at his back, feeling your climax approaching with every one of his increasingly vigorous movements. Feeling you come undone underneath him sent Bucky over the edge, and he collapsed onto your chest.
He rolled over onto his back, both of you panting and sweating. After he’d caught his breath, he moved in closer and snaked his arm around your shoulders, pulling you onto your side to rest against him.
‘I’ll be honest’ you smiled ‘I didn’t have you pegged as a cuddle-after-sex type guy.’
He kissed the top of your head, ‘I didn’t have you pegged as the kinda girl who’d end up in bed with a motorbike-riding stranger from a bar. Guess we’re both pleasantly surprised.’
---
#bucky fanfiction#bucky imagine#bucky x y/n#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky fic#bucky one shot#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes one shot#marvel imagine#marvel fic#marvel fanfiction#bucky smut#bucky barnes smut#biker!bucky#biker bucky#biker bucky barnes#bucky oneshot#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky drabble#bucky barnes drabble
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George Weasley x Reader- How Can You Tell?!
Gif not mine :)
Dating one of the biggest pranksters in Wizarding History didn’t mean you were any less likely to be the butt of their jokes- that was something you found out within the first few months of dating George Weasley. You didn’t mind it, if anything you loved that George carried on messing around like that with you rather than being too scared to do it once you got together, but both himself and his brother had been working out their “biggest prank yet” on you. Little did they know their little stunt wouldn’t actually work at all on you.
It started this morning. You had a few days left sleeping at the Burrow before Hogwarts started back up after Christmas break and you’d spent most of the mornings laying in bed with George- simply cuddling, talking or uh.. other things- but this morning he ran out of the bedroom almost the second his eyes opened. You sat up confused and just started fixing your hair, wondering what on Earth your boyfriend was up to this time. Minutes later, Fred came bolting in the room wearing George’s pyjamas and holding out a tray towards you, leaving you even more confused.
“Mornin’ darling. Fancy some toast?” He asked as he hopped in the bed under the covers next to you. You stared at him with an eyebrow raised.
“Fred.. not that I don’t love you or anything but why are you here? And in George’s clothes?” You asked, slowly taking a bite of toast.
“What are you talking about? Hit your head on the headboard too hard last night did you? I’ll take it easier next time, promise.” He winked, shuffling closer to you.
“So you’re not Fred? This person sitting right in front of me isn’t Fred? It’s George?” You spoke, catching on to their little trick.
“We’ve been together almost a year and you still can’t tell the difference between us? I’m heartbroken, honestly.” He placed his hand on his chest and shuffled back away from you.
“Sorry Georgie, I was just so sure you were Fred.” You played along. “But if you truly are my wonderful boyfriend you’d be more than happy to kiss me right?” You said, watching as panic went through his eyes before he spoke.
“That can definitely be arranged.”
“Too far Freddie. Get your slimy lips away from her you perv.” George exclaimed walking in the room.
“We almost had her then you twerp.” Fred argued back, getting out of the bed and heading towards the door.
“You honestly didn’t Fred. Not even close.” You laughed, pulling your actual boyfriend back into bed.
“Might have worked if you didn’t improvise Fred. Where did that headboard crap come from anyway?” George questioned, taking a bite out of your other slice of toast.
“Come up with it? George we can all bloody hear it. I’m counting down the days til Hogwarts to finally get some sodding sleep.” Your cheeks burnt at the idea of the rest of the Burrow listening in to yours and George’s rendezvous and George choked back on his toast. “We’ll definitely get you at some point Y/N, even if it kills us.” Were Fred’s last words as he left the two of you alone again in the bedroom.
“How did you know it was Fred?” George asked, finishing off the other slice of toast as you offered it to him.
“George I fell in love with you, not your brother so it’s obvious to me.. besides, you’d never promise to take it easier on me next time.” It was your turn to wink now as you got up and changed. “Meet you downstairs. At least I hope it’s going to be you.” You grinned, turning to shut the door. Fred walked back in moments later to talk with his brother.
“We’re going to have to up the antics Freddie.”
“That we are brother. Christ, she can tell us apart better than our own mother.”
The last few days of the holidays went fast as you soon found yourself back on your way to King’s Cross Station. As usual, you’d finished packing your bags a lot sooner than the boys and was waiting outside for them. You had to quickly hide the smirk that appeared on your face as you noticed them come out with each other’s baggage, even going to the extent to swap over their F and G Jumpers. You thought you’d give them their fun a little longer this time and played along. As the Christmas holidays were shorter you’d all left the majority of your belongings in your dorms, leaving only a small bag of clothes for you each to carry in. Soon enough, Fred walked up to you to play out the normal routine you had with George.
“Ready?” Fred kissed the corner of your mouth and offered his spare arm out to you. They were getting better, you’d give them that. You may have almost believed them if George’s eyes didn’t glare at Fred after the kiss- they’d clearly arranged a cheek kiss, you thought. Typical Fred and his devotion to the game.
“Ready.” You beamed, wrapping your arm around Fred’s and setting off on the journey to King’s Cross. It didn’t take you long but holding your best friend’s hand rather than your boyfriend’s made it seem a little longer.
The boys didn’t let off once you got on the train either but you wanted to talk to the real George, at least until they next thought up a new way to trick you. You all sat in the carriage and you turned to the twin who had started to make himself comfortable wrapping his arm around your shoulders and discussing the pranks they had lined up for the next few weeks, about to end their little game once again.
“Whilst I am quite comfortable and thoroughly enjoyed the kindness you showed to me holding my arm on the journey here, is it possible I could go and sit with my boyfriend now?” You asked casually, watching as Fred’s face dropped and he took his arm away from behind you. You jumped up and moved next to George, kissing the frown that had formed on his face and laying your head on his shoulder.
“Bugger. What gave it away this time?” Fred asked, pouting childishly and crossing his arms. He couldn’t keep the straight face for long before laughing. “Literally nobody can tell us apart. That’s our thing.”
“I’ve been able to tell you apart from the start. Plus George is more attractive, sorry.” You teased.
“Y/N we literally have the same face.” Fred answered.
“No no Freddie, you heard the lovely lady. I’m more attractive.” George grinned, kissing the top of your head. “It’s because you left the womb too soon, underdeveloped you see. Those few extra minutes really did wonders on my complexion.”
You laughed and watched on as the two boys bickered the rest of the journey to the castle. Maybe they’d give it one more shot before they realised how obvious it was to you..
A few weeks had passed at Hogwarts, the regular schedule almost making you forget about the boys’ little scheme to make you confuse the pair despite your assurance it would never happen. As a (Your House) Prefect, it was your duty to take watch tonight to make sure there were no students out of bed after curfew. The last thing you expected on your walk tonight was a pair of arms dragging you into an empty storage cupboard with their hand on your mouth. It was pitch black and you went to scream but the hand muffled it.
“Shhhh darling, it’s me. You always say you want a bit more spontaneity in our relationship so here I am, being spontaneous.” Here it was, attempt three; that wasn’t George’s voice. Suddenly one of his hands were on your waist and the other on your cheek, his face came close and you felt his breath on your cheek. “So. You, me, this dark storage cupboard, the thought of getting caught.. sounds fun, don’t you think?”
You leaned up and moved to his ear, your lips ghosting his skin before you spoke. “Sounds very fun, but I have to admit I’d rather do it with my boyfriend.” Suddenly his hands came off your body completely and he opened the cupboard again for you both to step out.
“Good news Georgie, she’s definitely in love with you.” He called out and you watched as your boyfriend rounded the corner. “It’s pitch bloody black in there and she knew it was me.”
“Of course I’m in love with him, why wouldn’t I be?” You laughed a little and walked towards George.
“Well George over here was getting panicky that you didn’t know the difference between us and might pull your moves on this walking piece of sex without realising.” He referred to himself by dramatically pointing up and down his body. “Honestly I didn’t think you could do it, I’m impressed. Our own mum struggles.” He walked past and clapped George on the shoulder. “Well done brother, got yourself a special one. Now let’s get back before Y/N takes points away from Gryffindor.” He finished.
“I’ll catch up in a minute.” George answered, turning his attention towards you. “Sorry, I don’t know what Fred subjected you to in there.” He scratched the back of his neck clearly embarrassed over how far him and his brother had gone for this.
“It’s fine. You know you could have just spoken to me about it, I could quite happily sit there and tell you all the reasons I love you and could never confuse you with Fred.” You offered, smiling. He smiled back, relieved that you weren’t angry.
“An ego stroke never hurt every now and then.” He joked before turning back round to see his brother. “Anyway, better get back, I’ll see you tomorrow?” You leaned up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss before moving to whisper in his ear.
“I’m on duty tomorrow night too.. the cupboard definitely was your idea and I’m more than happy to oblige if you meet me here again. But just you this time.” You spoke. A grin broke out on his face and he laughed.
“Wow and you’re a respectable person in this school? A prefect telling me to break curfew for some fonduing? Outrageous behaviour...” He teased. “But you’re lucky I’m just as outrageous. You’re on.” And with that he pecked your lips and left.
You never knew how you ended up lucky enough to get George Weasley to be yours but you hoped to any God out there that it would never have to end.
Bonus Ending that doesn’t technically fit the time sequence but felt necessary....
“Oh and boys?!” You called out to them just before they disappeared into the corridor. They both turned on their heels to look at you. “Whilst, as I’ve said, I can point out so many differences between the two of you the pair of you have forgotten a big difference between you.” You began, watching as they looked at you in confusion. “I’ll tell you tomorrow, you won’t believe me when you EAR it.” You finished, walking back in the other direction laughing to yourself.
“George you bloody idiot you only have one bloody ear.”
“I’m the idiot? You look at me more than I look at me.”
“How do you forget losing a sodding ear?!”
“The trauma Freddie. I blocked it away.”
“You’re gonna have some more trauma to block away when I finish with you.” And with that their childish fighting continued until McGonagall heard the commotion and sent them back to their dorms.
(Let me know if you want a part two in the cupboard 😉)
#reader insert#harry potter#harry potter x reader#hp#harry potter imagine#Fred Weasley#George Weasley#George Weasley x reader#George Weasley x you#Weasley twins
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Walk Away-3
After so long apart you finally agree to see Sam and tell him the truth
You groaned as you sat back against the wall hoping this newest wave of nausea would pass.. It was normal according to the obgyn Tasha had helped you get into. You had just entered into your second trimester and found out the gender of the baby at your last appointment. She was growing perfectly and doing a number on your insides in the process. You heard someone clear their throat and looked up to see Max leaned against the doorway leading into the bathroom with a cup of tea in his hand. He held it out to you with a smile “Ginger tea with honey and lemon” You thanked him as you took the cup and allowed yourself a small sip of the warm liquid.
He walked a little further into the room before sitting down next to you his long legs stretched out in front of him “Donna Hanscum called again” you nodded before saying “That doesn’t really surprise me..has Jody and the girls started their rounds again?” he let out a sharp laugh “Not yet, it holds them off when they can talk with you but I had to tell Donna you weren’t here considering you don’t want Sam to know you’re currently starting to move past smuggling a basketball into smuggling a beach ball” “He doesn’t need to know” you mumbled but Max shook his head “He loves you Y/N. I don’t know what happened but he wouldn’t be trying this hard to get you to talk to him if he didn’t”
You leaned your head back against the wall then rolled your head over to look at Max “If and it’s a big if but if I was to agree to see him and Dean could you put a glamour on me?” his eyes went to your ever growing stomach “Oh you mean to hide the bump?” you nodded and he scratched his chin in thought then nodded “I think I can manage that with Alicia’s help. I’ll call Erik too, he's better at stuff along those lines” “Thanks Max and thank Erik for me too” he stood to go call Erik who was his boyfriend of a little over three years. You’d known him for a while but had gotten to know him better over the last few weeks considering his mom was your doctor. “When are you going to call Sam?” he asked from the door so you shrugged “When Jody calls I’ll tell her it’s fine to give Dean my new number then go from there” he nodded then walked out the room.
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Sam was sitting at the table in the kitchen nursing a cup of coffee and trying to ignore just how much the bunker itself seemed to miss your presence. How had he messed everything up this bad? How had Dean been able to see just how much pain you were in but he couldn’t? Christ he was an idiot. If he could do it over he would have never gone on that very first hunt where all of you met Lila.
She didn’t hold a candle to you. You were...hell you were a force of nature. Everyone who knew you was drawn to you. You were caring but strong, courageous but smart. You would dive in feet first to help someone you cared about and even strangers. He’d seen you go toe to toe with more than one demon just to save a life. You were a soft touch when needed but also was the first to make someone shake off any self doubt and get their fire back.
When Alex had needed help paying for college you’d found grants seemingly out of thin air. When Patience would get upset about her broken relationship with her father she’d call you. You were one of the few people Claire would take advice from without rolling her eyes.
As for the way you’d changed not only his life but Dean and Cas’ as well he didn’t have the words for. Dean never got a chance to withdraw into himself with you around because you’d be at his door slipping new cds under it or bribing him out with food and western movie marathons. Cas always seemed to brighten up when you walked into a room because you never let a day pass without reminding him just how important he was to what you called your family group.
When you’d come into Sam’s life you’d knocked him flat on his ass metaphorically speaking and literally speaking. He’d ended up catching a punch from you on accident. Dean had teased him that your right hook was what made him fall in love with you. Looking up to see a woman as beautiful as you were apologizing but calling him an idiot for getting in your way at the same time did help matters. From that day forward you were all he could think about. The day you finally moved into the bunker was the happiest day of his life.
The dreams of a so-called normal life was behind him but with you a new normal started to form in his mind. He never felt more whole than when you were in his arms. Waking up to you curled against his chest or with his arm around your waist was the most peace he’d ever felt. He loved you more than he ever dreamed possible to love someone after losing Jess. He felt like such a failure because he had apparently not shown you that. When you started to talk with Donna, Jody and the girls at least he knew you were alive,healthy and indeed staying with the Banes twins.
He knew they lived near a small town on the upper west coast but that was all he did know. He wanted nothing more than to track them down and beg for the chance to see you but for now at least knowing you were ok was the best compromise he was going to get. He sighed and looked down at his laptop. He had a few news websites up but his heart wasn’t in trying to find a case, his heart was wherever you were. He could hear Dean talking to someone in the library and thought maybe he had a case until he heard Dean say your name.
He quickly moved around the corner to see Dean pacing across the floor as he spoke on the phone. He caught a few words of what Dean was saying “Are you sure?...Yeah I promise...look you have my word...I will...ok...and sweetheart it’s good to hear from you” Was Dean talking to you? Why had you called Dean? Was something wrong? Were you hurt? He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts he hadn’t realized Dean had not only hung up but had called his name three times.
“SAM!” Dean spoke harshly and he blinked a few times glancing at the phone still in his brother’s hand “Was that Y/N?” Dean nodded “Yeah she told Jody it was ok to pass her new number on to me..She’s willing to see you but she has a few conditions” “Anything, I’ll agree to anything” Sam answered quickly his mind going into overdrive at the thought of seeing you.
Dean nodded again then said “Grab your stuff. I’ll text her and let her know we’re hitting the road. I’ve got to call Max when we get close enough and he’ll come meet us to lead us up to their place”
------
“Are you sure you can’t tell?” you asked Erik for the sixth time since he’d finished the glamour. He sighed and shook his head “I’m sure. I’ve hid entire buildings, your little baby bump isn’t even a challenge” you smiled then smoothed the shirt you were wearing self consciously.
“Alicia why did I agree to talk to Sam again?” She walked in behind you and held out a bottle of water “Because you’re still in love with him, it’s blaringly obvious no matter what happened he’s still in love with you because they’ve made the trip from Lebanon in record time. Even if today doesn’t go well at least you know you tried” you took a deep breath and nodded. She was right of course. When Erik’s phone went off you nearly jumped out of your skin but his hand on your arm kept you in place “Calm down Y/N, that was just Max. They’re coming up the driveway”
No sooner than the words came out of Erik’s mouth you heard the familiar rumble of the Impala’s engine. Any other time that was music to your ears but now it made you a little queasy. Erik shot you a smile before grabbing his jacket “Me and Max are headed into town but when you want to lower the glamour I showed Alicia how ok?” you nodded “Thanks again Erik” “Anytime”
------
You took a deep breath when you heard the boots on the porch so Alicia moved to answer the door. You weren’t in direct eyesight so you heard Dean first say “Alicia, good to see you” she greeted him then said “Hi Sam” you felt your heart flip when he said “Hey Alicia, I um thank you for being a place she could come to” “She’s always welcome wherever me and Max are and we make sure she knows it” that was one of the many things you loved about Alicia. Her words and tone of voice was friendly but the underlying venom of having comforted a hurt friend was still very much there.
“Y/N?” Alicia called out as she shut the door behind the boys as if she didn’t know for a fact you were hiding in the small hallway between the front door and kitchen. “Right here” you replied stepping around the corner. Dean smiled when he saw you “Well you’re a sight for sore eyes” you were glad when he just hugged you with one arm around your shoulders on the off chance of him brushing against your stomach.
“I see you’ve actually managed to stay alive without me which is a miracle in itself” you teased with a tense smile trying to calm your nerves before meeting Sam’s eyes. God those fucking eyes of his. You stood there for a second staring at each other before Dean turned to Alicia “You got something to drink? Alcoholic or otherwise. I’d settle for tea or coffee” she gave him a small smile before winking at you and herding him towards the kitchen.
Once the two of you were alone you both started to speak at the same time. You laughed nervously “You want to go first?” he nodded then let out a harsh breath “I’m sorry. I know that probably falls flat but I am. You are the most important person in my life. I love you with everything in me and I failed to show you that. I failed to realize how much my actions were hurting you. I made you think I wanted someone else and I pushed you away. I don’t expect you to forgive me and I don’t expect you to come back with me but I’m grateful you chose to let me come here and tell you that face to face” You should’ve known with pregnancy hormones on top of everything else that you’d end up in tears. You wiped them away before they could fall before saying “Sam..god just tell me why? Why did you act like that towards her? Was the attachment to me the only thing stopping you? The fear of all our friends taking my side? Of your brother siding with me?”
“Baby no” he breathed and took a step towards you but when you quickly crossed your arms over your chest and stepped back he froze in his tracks. “I guess it was the feeling of losing someone you love to a demon. I’ve been there before then with what happened to her husband. It got me thinking about what happened to Jess happening to you. That’s not an excuse because you told me that you wanted other hunters backing her and I didn’t listen but please baby please know I have never wanted anyone else since the day I met you”
“But you didn’t listen to me Sam. That’s why I left! That’s why I came here and got them to ward me so you couldn’t find me. I couldn’t sit around waiting for you to break my heart and I’m not coming back with you no matter how much I want nothing more than to jump into your arms right now. If you want us...If you want a second chance before I tell you something I need a promise that you’ll be ok with it taking time, with me being here and you in Lebanon. I need you to actually think about it before you answer me Sam” you were trying so hard not to cry because you knew for a fact Dean and Alicia were standing just on the other side of that kitchen door waiting to intervene if you needed them to.
“I’d do anything for a second chance for us, to prove to you just how much you mean to me” you nodded slowly then called out “Alicia can you and Dean come here?” the door swung open quickly to both of them nearly stumbling over each other. “Yeah sweetie?” she asked so you braced yourself then said “They need to know” “And you’re sure?” she questioned so you nodded “Yeah I’m sure”
“Need to know what?” Dean asked but Alicia was already repeating the words Erik had told her would drop the glamour. The moment it faded and your stomach was back visibly rounded Dean’s eyes widened and poor Sam looked like he may faint or puke. “Is that why you left?” Sam asked quietly and you shook your head “I didn’t find out until about a month after I left. That’s why I came here”
Dean recovered quicker and held a hand out “Can I?” you nodded “She is your niece after all” “Niece, so it’s a girl?” he asked with a grin. Your hand came to cover Dean’s so you could place it on the light movements but your eyes never left Sam’s as you said “Yeah I just found out last week” a light kick made Dean’s grin get bigger “Look at that. She’s strong already” “Just like her mom” Alicia replied then reached for Dean’s arm “Let’s give them another minute” Dean nodded and kissed your cheek before saying “I love you kid and I’m gonna love her too” then followed her back into the kitchen.
Sam had remained silent so you finally looked up at him “Are you going to say anything?” a slight smile slipped onto his face before he quietly said “Can I touch you now? Because I really want to hug you and feel our daughter move” you moved towards him and he pulled you against his chest without hesitation. One large hand held your back while the other rested on your stomach “I love you Y/N. I’ll prove to you that things will be different. Nothing means more to me than you and her” you smiled up at him through the tears in your eyes “I love you too Sam”
Tags: @delightfullykrispypeach @fofisstilinski @chengukargbo @rosalynshields @hunting-the-grievers @spngirl05
#spn fanfiction#supernatural fanfiction#sam winchester x female!reader#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester fanfiction
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𝓜𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓼 (Norman x Fem!reader)
Go read the all book on my wattpad!!! And btw im requests were gonna be always one from now, so if u are a weebe send me ur request please!!
𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: Fluff and a bit hot oop/ manga spoilers/
━━━━━━ ━━━━━━◇◆◇━━━━━━ ━━━━━━
A year and 11 months ago you and the rest of the children of Grace field had run away in search of a way to escape to the human world, during this time you were hiding in a hiding place where you had the opportunity to meet a lot of other children with the same interest as you, and your family only grew and you could see the happiness on their faces.
Emma was your best friend since you were kids, you, she, Ray and Norman, were about two years and a few months younger than them and they were like older brothers to you, besides taking care of you were your best friends but... Unfortunately the affection and love you felt for Norman was different, a few years ago you had feelings for him but you preferred to hide it because you knew it wasn't right and that he liked Emma so you preferred to retract your feelings for him and you preferred to see his happiness next to Emma which was a better choice.
In the last months you lived on a farm, you felt you could lose them at any moment and the moment you knew Norman had been "ordered" you felt your heart break, the tears in your eyes didn't stop, you didn't want him to leave, you didn't want to lose him, you preferred to be taken away than him.
The night they parted was hard, it was the night you finally revealed your feelings for him.
*flash back*
You walked down the hallway slowly, your legs were shaking a lot, your breathing was accelerated and your chest hurt. You stopped in front of the door of the room where Norman was, took your hand and went lightly to the door, waiting for an answer from the other side.
"You can come in!" he said on the other side of the door, you took another deep breath and thought about what you would say to him... I had to admit that you loved him before you lost him forever.
"Excuse me! Norman... can we talk?" you said facing the ground, you could already feel the tears running down your face, Norman realized and tried to get closer to comfort you but you stopped him "No! I can't face you... it may sound stupid but not even at the last moment that I'll be with you I can't face you" you said laughing nervously
"Y/N... I will miss you, I.... only want you to run away and that my death is not in vain, neither can I face you... Nor Emma-" you interrupted him, embracing his body with strength
"I CAN'T FACE YOU BECAUSE I'M ABOUT TO LOSE THE PERSON I LOVE MOST IN MY LIFE.... I LOVE YOU NORMAN ... I wanted you to know this before you leave... I know you love Emma but this is my last chance to talk to you and tell you things with sincerity!" you said letting the tears fall.
"Y-Y/n... I'm sorry I can't be with you... I'm sorry you had to hide your feelings for so long... I really am sorry, I really love Emma, and I love you and Ray and everyone here, but I have to use my life to get you the chance to run away from here"
Silence was installed... you only felt his body embracing yours, caressing your back, until the moment you saw the person you most loved leaving in the midst of darkness.
Your body moved on its own, you ran to the forest not to run but to be alone, my body was freezing, your voice was so deep from screaming, among hiccups you shouted his name for him to hear you, until your body finally fell from exhaustion.
*end of flashback*
Emma walked ahead, together with Ray trying to find a new way and a safe place after the destruction of the shelter, you were worried about christ who hadn't woken up yet, and his health seemed weak and fragile, you feared the worst, but you had to be positive, you walked a little faster to reach your two best friends.
"So we know where we are going?" you asked Ray
"We're not just going to follow the tracks again.... maybe we'll go towards one of the 7 walls, we have to try our luck" Emma responded positively until she stopped abruptly, heard if screams someone was being attacked, without delay you three ran towards the voices in aid.
When we ran into the scene of two teenagers surrounded by wild demons, we had to help them, so we prayed in arms and without delay, we killed those horrible monsters.
The children looked terrified but... what would two children be in the middle of the forest? where would they have come from?
"THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU FOR Saving Us, WE THINKED WE WILL DIE" one of them shouted, causing Ray a little discomfort because he didn't want to call attention to more enemies.
"Yes, yes, but please keep your voices down, we don't want to bring attention to ourselves!" Ray said
The light-haired boy examined us and in a flash his eyes looked like they were shining:
" IT'S YOU!YOU ARE THE CATTLE KIDS WHO ESCAPE FROM GRACE FILED, WE COME TO FIND YOU, BY COMMAND OF OUR BOSS" he said smiling, Emma and you exchanged glances, 'looking for us?' you thought while you waited for Emma to answer if
"Ahm who is your boss?" Emma asked with fear? could they really trust them?
"WILLIAM MINERVA" your world stopped a smile brutalized in your lips we had finally found it! You had finally found the person who would help you return to the human world.
A few hours passed and those two took you to a hiding place inside a tree, it was an incredible place, there were lots of children there. 'so William minerva always exists' you thought while you were enjoying the environment it was really wonderful, you could feel the joy of the children being there, your family would finally have a place to live in peace.
"The boss wants to see you then come this way," one of the boys said, showing us the way.
We got to a door that would probably lead to an office, you were nervous, you felt your tummy turning, as if you were about to vomit from excitement, the door was knocked and inside there was a male voice "Come in".
The door opened revealing a white-haired figure, his crystalline blue eyes, and his sweet smile... you felt the tears flowing down your face, you couldn't believe you were standing in front of him, how? why? how did he get here? so many questions invaded your head leaving you paralyzed in front of that door.
Emma ran towards the figure in front of us "NORMAN!!" his voice showed relief and nostalgia, they both embraced "Hi Emma" Norman said in a sweet voice, it was like living a dream, Ray approached Norman, but his reaction was not the same as Emma's, Ray raised his hand and the slap Norman's face, and then hugged him. ... you admit that you got a little jealous and put yourself behind the children so that no one could see you and you left without anyone knowing... The memory that you expressed your feelings to Norman at his last moment in Grace Field, the relief you were feeling for him being alive and the anger that you couldn't face him and embrace him filled your thoughts and so did you as you walked through the streets until you reached the exit door of the hiding place.
You wanted to be a little alone, that was a lot of information to assimilate, so you went out into the forest.
*Norman P.O.V.*
It was wonderful to be with them all again, still in Ray and Emma's embrace I looked at the people around us... my beloved family, I detached myself from the embrace and felt the children all running towards me, screaming my name.
"It's so good to see you again, and good to see the new members of our family, welcome to you all." I examined the faces of each of them, but someone was missing. Y/n, the panic took over and me, I looked around quickly but I didn't see her, what happened to her?
"Emma, Ray?" They both turned their attention to me and their expressions changed when they saw the panic on my face "Where is Y/n?" I asked and Emma smiled~
"It's right here" she looked around but realized she wasn't there "Where is she? she was right behind me!" she said but a white-haired boy interrupted her~
"She went out, while you were hugging, she ran away and ran out" He said, what happened? Wasn't she happy to see me? The memory of her confession came back to my mind like a flash, I felt my face heat up a little, she still couldn't face me, I have to go find her.
"I'll go look for her, stay here I won't be long, so please go explore the surroundings, and eat something, I bet you're hungry," I said with a gentle smile as I hugged her again and left the room toward the exit to look for her.
*Y/n POV*
You didn't know how long you had been sitting there on that rock, looking at nothing, you felt the cold of the night passing through your back making your whole body shiver, until you sneezed.
You heard a noise of branches breaking, and immediately you looked up and turned your body back, a cloak figure was standing behind you, you got scared and fell off the rock banging your ass on the ground.
"Auch" you said caressing your sore ass with the fall~
"Sorry! Are you ok?" this voice... what would he do here? you look ahead and you saw him kneeling in front of you with his hand on top of yours, he had grown so much... he was really more attractive than he was, his more evolved body, his voice, his height, but those eyes never changed, you stared at his eyes for a while until you saw his face being painted pink and turning his gaze away from yours, immediately after that reaction you turned your face to the side.
"Y-yes i am, I'm sorry I just got scared because I didn't know you were there" you said in a calm and nervous voice
"I came looking for you... you disappeared when you saw me... I thought you missed me..." he said with a sad expression making your heart race... 'he came after me?' you thought by taking a deep breath
"Of course I was... I just didn't know how to react, just like all the others I thought you'd died that night." You took a short pause "Look, I'm sorry I ran away..." He looked directly at you, you were paralyzed, you felt your face warm, his gaze hypnotized you.
"I missed you... that night I... I wanted to hold you and not let go anymore... I didn't want to leave, I wanted to feel you against me, I wanted you to fall asleep in my lap, I wanted you never to cry again" you felt the tears fall on your face, his hand went up to your face, and wiped the tears that were trying to come out.
His touch was different, he was more adult, he wasn't the same innocent child two years ago, he was more mature, his thumb stroked your cheek and his hand put the strands of hair (H/c) behind your ear.
"I missed your look, your company, and I'm sorry I only realized my feelings for you after I left... I waited every day for you, for the day when I would be able to see your gaze again" he paused taking himself and pulling you with him, you were hypnotized by him, you couldn't, nor wanted, to move "Let me touch you, let me hug you. ... let me kiss you, I want to feel you, my love, I want to feel you close to me and this time I will not let go of you, my love I want to take care of you, be mine" his words were like whispers, his gaze penetrated yours, his thumb ran across your face until it reached your lips, caressing them down to your jawline lifting it.
Lightly his lips touched your neck, letting you still, you felt his breath making you tremble under his touch, he laughed softly, without realizing it he pushed your body back, leaning against a tree, his hand went down to your waist and another wandered between your neck and your face, his gaze screamed for your attention, he missed you too much and did not want to let you go without being able to touch you again.
Your hands moved to his neck and to his chest, pulling him towards you, slowly you put yourself on tiptoes and kissed him lightly, the kiss began calmly but gradually became more fierce.
His hand that was on your waist went up to your neck, keeping you still under his control, it seemed like a dream, you felt your breaths accelerated and you couldn't calm down.
The two panting separated, he looked at you with a gentle smile and pulled you to his horse, stopping in front of you forcing you to look at him, his eyes were dangerous.
No word was said on the way to the hiding place, when we got there he helped you out of the horse and gave it to a boy, both walked side by side until they reached the cafeteria, where he before opening the door stood behind you with his hands on your shoulders and came close to your ear making you shiver.
"I'm glad I learned to control myself, otherwise I don't know what I would have done with you behind, maybe you can find out later Love" his voice makes you blush violently, he opens the door and smiles like nothing, but his gaze changed when he saw you again, he was eager to have you in his arms again.
#the promised neverland#tpn norman#tpn emma#tpn ray#yakusoku no neverland#ray x reader#norman x reader#emma x reader#gilda#don#yuugo#lucas#oliver#phil#manga spoiler#The promised neverland fanfic#the promised neverland x reader#anime#manga#toilet bound hanako kun#hanako#tuskasa#boku no hero academia
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Refuse To Worry
“Refuse to worry about tomorrow, but deal with each challenge that comes your way, one day at a time. Tomorrow will take care of itself.”
Matthew 6:34TPT
Living in the present is unusual for me. I’ve worked by setting goals most of my life. Lou worked his entire career with a goals’ mindset. He always said, ‘I’ve got to get ‘this job’ done first.’ Every job I worked contained goals. Even grocery shopping is planned weekly, not daily. I hear in my spirit, ‘live flexibly, not with every moment planned out.’
‘Live flexibility’ was our lifestyle when we first married. I remember fixing Lou’s breakfast and lunch. Off he went to his construction right-of-way job. Nap time for me. One morning while napping, Lou came home, grabbing me by the feet. He pulled me to the foot of the bed, saying, ‘Get to packing. We’ve got to leave for a job in Kansas this afternoon.’ Now that’s flexible living.
God tells me, He wants me to live in the present. Only looking at His answered prayers in my life’s rearview mirror. Everything going forward is to be drawn from Him out of my future for my present needs. The scriptures He placed in my spirit are Mark 11:24NIV “Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you HAVE RECEIVED it, and it will be yours.”
“For the Lord God is a sun and shield; The Lord will give grace and glory; No good thing will He withhold From those who walk uprightly.” Psalm 84:11NKJV
“Listen to me, …people of Israel, you whom I have upheld since your birth, and have carried since you were born. Even to your old age and gray hairs I am He, I am He who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.” Isaiah 46:3-4NIV
We’re moving away from our home in Indiana. ‘Lord, we need a condo or villa to live in. Thank you for giving us one.’ A villa opened up.
‘Lord, we’re short too much money to buy that villa. Thank you Lord because as I seek You, You’ll provide for me.’
‘Lord, I need help to sort through 22 years of stuff, and pack. Thanks for the help that is coming.’ Our granddaughter’s family moved in with us for 7 weeks and helped us.
Then came the biggie. You’ve heard the scripture, “It shall come to pass That before they call, I will answer; And while they are still speaking, I will hear.” Isaiah 65:24NKJV.— My brother called from California, ‘Hey sis I’m coming to see you for ten days.’ After his second day here, I thought, ‘his emotional comfort was much needed, like a warm fuzzy blanket.’ How much more future can you receive in your present, than God hearing your need before you realize what it is?
Did this all come by accident? I don’t believe so. “Refuse to worry,” Jesus advised. Almost daily, I’ve been telling God, ‘You’ve got to help me. I can’t do this by myself.’ Another thing Jesus said— “But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” Matthew 6:33NIV. When I seek God instead of worrying, hide in Him instead of worrying, things begin to fall into place.
What are you worrying about, that you’re powerless to take care of in the first place?
What do you believe you’re responsible to fix, and can’t?
What do you believe you must take control of? Instead of trusting God to straighten out?
Get this straight— you can’t straighten out life’s messes. Only He can. Will you let Him? It’s your choice. You choose.
LET’S PRAY: Lord God forgive us for always trying to do everything alone, even when we can’t. Help us realize— we’re truly dependent upon You for everything, in the name of Jesus Christ I pray.
by Debbie Veilleux
Copyright 2021 You have my permission to reblog this devotional for others. Please keep my name with this devotional, as author. Thank you.
#Jesus Christ#lord of lords#Word of God#Holy Spirit#God#it's your choice#devotional#refuse#worry#present#future#before#fuzzy blanket#need#love#hope#faith
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