#despite i stay away from the show for almost 3 years
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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Chapter 15: What Do You Know About Love?
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter fifteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 6.5K (I got carried away again)
Warnings: References to sex, Cursing, Angst, Crying, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.
Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
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Present Day *Reader POV*
The shopping bags that hung from your arms would have been heavy for the average person, but for you it seemed like a bag full of pillows. It was the day after you saw Rosemary and said goodbye. Despite the almost excruciating hangover you had this morning, because it'd been almost forty years since you last had a drink, you dragged yourself to the mall to try and find outfits for your trip to Russia. You were satisfied with the few outfits you found, but you were worried because the plane left in a few hours and you were no where near ready.
Mentally or physically.
As much as you wanted to go help Ben, you still were apprehensive about the whole situation, not just about going in blind, but wondering what the hell you were going to do when you saw Ben. You wanted to hold on to your anger, but you were afraid that the moment you looked into his green eyes you would forgive him.
I am not going to forgive him. I'm going to break him out then tell him to fuck off and I never have to see him ever again.
Despite your apprehension, you knew that you had to do this, that you had to go help him even if you still hated him because you couldn't bear the thought of the boy you grew up with being tortured over there all alone. It was the alone part that hurt the most. You knew how much Ben hated being alone. He never had to say it out loud, but all the time you'd spent together in your bedroom before and after the injection spoke volumes.
Of course you still had no idea where you were going, but figured that if you went to the Kremlin you could get some answers, which meant you'd either have to lie your way in or just kill anyone in your path. Which would be messy, but necessary. You try to shake off the guilt of exposing yourself again and what that could mean for Rosemary and Lou. You made sure that Rosemary knew to pack a bag for herself and for Lou and told her to wait for your call.
You wanted to be there to escort them out of the city, didn't want to split up and have them get snagged while you were waiting for them at the rendezvous point, so you told Rosemary to take a few days off and lay low.
When you get to the outside door of your apartment building toting the bags, you notice that it's been broken, as if someone tried to pull it off its hinges.
Well that's great. Hopefully the building manager noticed that.
Your mind drifts back to Ben as you step into the elevator.
What if he isn't alive when I get there? It was an unwelcome thought, but it meant that you wouldn't have to talk to him.
Maybe if I knock him out when I get there and just leave him in a Russian motel somewhere, I won't have to talk to him. You pause. Will he want to talk to me?
The memory of the last time you spoke flashes through your mind bringing an unmeasurable amount of rage and heartbreak back over your body. The dam you built to keep out everything that happened was reaching capacity, especially given the recent events with Countess, and you knew that the moment you saw Ben it was going to burst open. You hoped that you'd be able to keep it together long enough to get out of the lab or wherever the hell he was being held, before you lost it. But it was doubtful.
As you walk down the hallway to you apartment, you notice that your front door is open and you stop walking. Apprehension spikes at the back of your mind as you examine the door. The lock is broken and door is cracked just enough for you to hear people talking inside in hushed tones. You creep forward and look through the crack.
You've got to be kidding me. You groan to yourself noticing Butcher and Hughie standing in your living room.
Great. Just what I need. Right when I'm going to leave they show up. Guess that explains the mystery of the broken door downstairs.
You think about walking away, of going back down the elevator and hoping that by the time you come back they would be gone, but you knew you had to face them and you still had to pack. So you push open the front door of your apartment and step into the room.
"You know when I called saying that I had something else to say about Soldier Boy, I assumed you would call, not break into my apartment." You sigh before moving to the right side of the counter that divides the room between the living room and the kitchen and depositing the shopping bags on the stainless steel top.
"Maybe you shouldn’t leave your apartment unlocked poppet. Anyone could walk in." Butcher replies with a grin.
"Hmm. Sure. You guys here for more coffee?"
"Go shopping did you?" Butcher ignores your snark eyeing the bags.
"Yeah I needed a few new outfits for my art show next month." The lie is easy, but you know that the sudden appearance of the two of them probably meant you were caught red handed. Of course now with everything that happened with Countess, you didn't care anymore if Butcher and Hughie knew who you really were. "You doing okay there Hughie?" You raise an eyebrow as you notice how his heartbeat has spiked since you entered the apartment.
"Good." He says, but he looks uneasy.
Well, guess he's afraid of me now.
"Huh. And here I thought you were replacing your jacket." Butcher throws your ruined jacket onto the floor between you.
You look from the jacket to Butcher. You hadn't bought a replacement and hadn't wanted to throw it out. You were still hoping that the scorch marks looked like you had "distressed" it. It didn't and you knew that, but you loved that coat so much.
"See, I think it’s a big coincidence that Countess got right fucked after we came and talked to you." Butcher smiles.
"Probably the same coincidence as Gunpowder dying before you showed up here the first time." You breeze with a tight-lipped smile.
Where was he going with this? Was he here to kill me? You think about what Legend said about Butcher killing supes.
"That looks bad." Butcher gestures to the jacket. "You have a little spat with your good friend?”
"Let's just say she said a few things that upset me." Your eyes skate from Butcher to Hughie sizing them up. "If you're here to kill me, you're welcome to try. Oh sorry, 'arrest me'." You make air quotes around the words. "But we both know you're not government agents, you reek of Compound V and the last time I checked there was that whole, no supes in the government thing."
"Wouldn't it have been easier to get this out of the way the first time?" Hughie asks.
"I didn't want to be involved." You shrug your shoulders.
"Then why you'd buy a plane ticket to Russia?" Butcher takes a step towards you, but you hold your ground.
You weren't afraid of him.
"I hear it's nice this time of year. Not too hot, not too cold. Very pleasant." You snap back at him eyes narrowed, before you look down at the antique watch on your wrist. "Look I'd love to have a heart to heart, but I just don't have time to do this little dance with you. So we can either get to the part where you try to kill me or-" You raise your gaze from the watch to glare back at Butcher, but then your eyes focus on the hallway behind him and your heart stops.
Ben is standing there in the shadows looking at you the same way he always has, with those wonderful piercing green eyes that makes all other memories of them be put to shame. He's dressed in modern clothes, wearing a dark green shirt that hugs his perfect muscular chest and is the same color of his suit, your favorite color and the one you can never look at without thinking of him because damn it, it's also the color of his eyes. He looks the same, but different. His hair is longer and darker than it was the last time you saw him and his cheeks are covered by a trimmed but thick beard. It was unusual given that you'd never seen him with more than just a little bit of stubble and annoying because it makes him look even more ruggedly handsome, but despite the piercing way his eyes follow you, you can see a haunting memory of the last forty years.
You're upset that the one of the first thoughts you'd had beside staring at him open mouthed is that you wished you were wearing something more flattering than one of your pairs of paint splattered overalls over an old band t-shirt. You were going to Russia to get him and yes maybe you were shopping for things that you could move in, but you had picked out a particular revenge outfit that you believed would make Ben regret everything he did to you and also might have been paired with a particularly badass set of boots that made your legs look very long. The outfit that made you feel beautiful and sexy was unlike the one you were wearing at the moment. Also because you hadn't brushed your hair today and had just stuck it up in a messy bun at the back of your head.
You're struck with the urge to run to him and kill him at the same time, but you can't move and you can’t think.
Apart of you believed that you would find him dead in Russia, a sad thought but it meant that you wouldn't have to relive everything all over again. Everything that went to shit the last 24 hours you spent together that you relived with Countess the other day and now you were reliving when you looked at him standing there looking better than he should.
Because damn it, only Ben could be tortured in a lab for the past 40 years and walk away looking like a GQ model. I've never hated anyone more.
"Ben?" Your voice is no more than a hoarse whisper.
Ben pushes past Hughie and Butcher, taking careful steps towards you like he doesn't want to scare you away. "Y/n." The sound of your name on his lips fills you with an inescapable amount of warmth.
Traitor. You think to yourself at your body’s reaction.
He's standing so close to you now that you can smell the same shampoo and aftershave he always used and it brings back memories of the nights he spent in your bed with you laughing and talking like nothing had changed making you feel alive again for the first time in forty years. Before everything went into the blender set to puree.
Ben's eyes trace your body like he can't believe you're standing in front of him making you wish again that you're wearing the outfit you picked out so that you could look as good as he does. And just as he raises his hand towards your face you remember why you hated him, remember that night, remember what Countess said that caused her to lose her head.
Your hand flashes out so quick you don't think Ben notices it until it lands with a resounding slap against his cheek that sends him reeling back from you. Your strengths were similar, almost identical, and if he hadn't been invulnerable it would have ripped his perfect jaw from his face.
"What the fuck was that for?" Ben snaps, green eyes blazing as he looks back at you.
"You've got some nerve coming back here after all these years." You spit, the anger rising in your chest with wings of fury that beat against your ribcage. "Did you really think that you could just say my name again and make me forget everything that happened Benjamin? I am not one of those trashy women that you used to fuck and the fact that you think you can show up here, give me the fucking puppy dog eyes, and think that I’ll swoon, is ridiculous!”
There goes the dam.
Your gaze levels on Hughie and Butcher who look just as stunned. "And you two. Why did you bring him here? I didn’t want any part of this!”
"Why did you pretend to be dead!" Hughie shouts back.
"Did you think that maybe that was me trying to tell you that I didn't want to be involved? Or are you two just that fucking stupid?"
"Why did you buy a plane ticket then?" Butcher asks again, raising an eyebrow.
Ben is watching you with anger burning in his eyes. It's difficult for you to look at him. Every time you do you think about your last night together, the morning after when he pushed you away, and finally the night where he ripped out your heart and stomped all over it.
How did I ever think I could look at him again when I got him out of Russia?
"Because even though I hate him. He doesn't deserve that. The Ben I knew would have come to get me, and I wasn't going to leave him to rot in some fucking Russian prison." You snap back. "Now get out of my apartment."
"Sweetheart-" Ben begins to say.
"No. No. No. I don't want to hear it from you. Nothing you can say can make this better. I’m glad you’re free or whatever, but go. Get out." You push past him, but Ben's hand flashes out and grabs your wrist with enough force that you feel the bruising of your skin.
"No." He towers over you.
"Let. Me. Go." Your eyes narrow shifting to bright purple. The entire room begins to tremble, the glass windows shake in their panes and the glass jars full of paint brushes on your studio table begin to clink against one another. But he doesn't remove his hand.
"Not until you listen." Ben's own green eyes have hardened into a emerald.
You latch onto the wrist that is holding you and break his grip, before spinning and throwing him backward across the room away from you. Ben's body flies past Hughie and Butcher who watch with wide eyes as he hits the back of the couch and pinwheels over it with a loud thud as he lands on the cushions. You would have rather thrown him into the brick living room wall, but you restrained yourself.
"I don't want to hear anything you have to say Benjamin. You said enough that night and apparently you were saying lots of things to Countess about me. So get out." Your eyes skate across Butcher and Hughie. "All of you."
Hughie is still watching you with wide eyes, like he can't believe that just happened.
Join the club kid.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ben shouts, standing from the couch and straightening his clothes. You don't need to be a psychic to know how angry he is. In fact, you're surprised he's not throwing you out the window or at least throwing a punch. Ben didn't tolerate it when anyone put him in his place and it definitely looks like it's taking him an extreme amount of effort not to attack you, given the way his hands are clenched into fists and the way his jaw is tensed so tightly you can see the muscle flexing.
"She told me what you said about me. That you threw me a pity fuck because you felt sorry for me, that you were bored when we had sex because I was so inexperienced."
"It's not true."
"Isn’t it?" You're trying desperately not to cry, but the angry tears have already begun to well up in your eyes. "The last thing you sad to me was that I was pathetic and that you never would love me, never could love me. That you fucked me because you felt bad for me and you wished I would just fuck off. That I was just another warm pussy and that I meant nothing to you. So forgive me for not believing you."
"Oh shit." Butcher mutters under his breath.
"Damn." Hughie echoes.
"I know what I said to you, Y/n. I've spent the past 40 years regretting it-" Ben begins to say, but you interrupt him.
"Oh I'm so sure. The Great Soldier Boy actually has a conscience, let me just alert the media." You spit back. "Oh wait, sorry you wouldn't want that getting out would you Ben? Because that would mean you aren't a man."
"Y/n-" He growls.
"You don't get to come in here and apologize and act like you did nothing wrong. You're not here because you feel sorry, you're here because you want me to dote on you, to follow you around and give a shit like I did for 40 fucking years.”
“Y/n-“
"Stop saying my name like that!" You shout and the glass sugar dish on the counter flies off the counter and smashes into the floor sending shards of glass everywhere.
Hughie flinches.
"Like what?" Ben exclaims.
"Like you care." You cross your arms over your chest staring him down because you don't want to keep crying.
"I do fucking care about you-" Ben snaps running his hand through his dark hair frustrated.
"No you don't. You never did. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”
"Yes I do."
"Please stop talking."
"What else do you want me to say?" Ben shouts back, moving towards you. "I'm trying to fucking apologize-"
"I don't want you to say anything and I don't want to hear your half-assed apology! I want you to leave. You and your creepy friends." You gesture back to where Hughie and Butcher are watching with open mouths, who are unsure if they should leave or watch the show.
"They're not my friends."
"And neither am I! Which means I don’t have to listen to anything you have to say!”
"Y/n please-" His teeth are gritted together.
“I'm not some fangirl Ben. I was your friend, your friend before any of this. Before any of this fucking supe shit. I cared about you. I had been in love with you since I was 8. I had taken care of you since the night we met." More tears squeeze down your cheeks as a lifetime of happy memories before everything went down the drain wash over you. The wonderful times you'd shared together at the park, in your bedroom back in Philadelphia, dancing in the dancehall, at baseball games and Ben walking you home all the while you wobbled down the street drunkenly and sang off key. All the blissful little moments that you thought maybe he felt the same way about you and then followed by the moments you spent together the night of your birthday, when you felt more special and loved than you'd ever had. It makes the knife he stuck in your back even sharper.
"That night we spent together meant everything to me. I thought it was special and I thought you loved me. But you don't. You just fucked me because you were bored and you found the first person who said yes.” Your body turns away, but he grabs you by the shoulders to make you look at him.
"I do love you damnit!" He shouts. "I didn't want to-" Ben's jaw clenches in frustration, looking back at Butcher and Hughie. "Can you two just fuck off?"
"I wish you all would." You say, trying to loosen his grip on your shoulders, but he doesn't let go. You think about throwing him across the room again, because it made you feel a lot better.
"Fine. We'll be outside." Butcher says tugging Hughie away.
"Are you sure?" Hughie asks looking from you to Ben as if he's worried to leave the two of you alone.
"You want to be here? Because they're either going to kill each other or start fucking." Butcher responds.
"We are not going to start-" You begin, but they're already out the front door of your apartment leaving you alone with Ben, who is still holding on to your shoulders.
"Please listen to me." Ben says looking deep into your eyes. "When you said that you loved me it-" He stops looking for the right word as if he can't say the next ones that come out of his mouth. "Oh fuck it, it fucking scared me. Okay? It scared me, Y/n, and damnit I'm not a pussy! I'm not afraid of anything!"
“Oh no you could never be a pussy could you? Soldier Boy could never admit that he had real feelings for someone.” Your voice wobbles, tears trailing down your cheeks as you poke him in the chest to emphasize every word. “And now you’re just saying what I want to hear, because you want to have another quick fuck!” You push your hands against his chest trying to push him off of you, but he won't let go. "You're just saying it because its been forty years since you had sex and you thought, huh might as well find the most pathetic person I know, Y/n won't say no if I pretend to be everything she wanted again."
He doesn't mean it. He doesn't love me.
"I’m not lying to you! And I’m not pretending! I wasn't pretending that night either!” Ben roars so loudly you flinch. “That night I felt things with you that I had never felt with anyone else. It wasn't cheap sex or a quick fuck-" His jaw tightens as if he's embarrassed to admit it. "Damn it.” His teeth are gritted together. “We made love. I understood that when I woke up the next morning and I was happy to be there with you. I knew that I loved you and I wanted to tell you, but I fucked it all up instead. I fucked Countess because I was scared of what loving you meant. But I’m ready now, I’m not scared anymore. I love you!”
He's saying everything you always wanted him to, but you're scared. Scared that he's just saying it, that he thinks it's what you want to hear and this is the only way that he can get you back into his life because he needs someone to follow him around, because he can't be alone.
You stand there for a minute taking in his stance. His head is slightly bowed in shame, shoulders tight, body leaning towards you. But then you catch his eye, you see the sorrow, frustration, and pain in his gaze. Ben was not big on sharing feelings and for him to admit all of these things aloud was shocking enough without the obvious emotions flashing in his eyes. It was so different than the stoic or pissed off attitude he usually had when he was Soldier Boy. The look in his eyes is so earnest and Ben has never been a good liar, not to you anyway. You always knew what he was thinking.
If I forgive him then what does that mean? I forget the past 40 years like they never happened? I forget all the tears when he broke my heart? Forget how broken I was? How broken I still am?
You think of all the times you missed him, all the times you forgot about what he said to you and remembered the good, all the times you wanted him there with you and Rosemary because you knew he would love to be there. All the early memories together, all the missions, everything that lead up to the falling out and Ben’s supposed death. Ben's admission of guilt and his confession of love for you was shocking. Especially because the Ben you knew 40 years ago would have rather dropped dead than say the words "make love."
No. I won't give in. I can't do this, I can't do this all over again. I was better, I was moving on, he doesn't have the right to come here and mess up my life all over again.
"No." You shout, shoving him away with all your strength. Ben stumbles backward, his eyes wide as if he wasn't expecting you to push him away, because of course he wasn't. “You don’t know anything about love. You’re just saying that because you know it’s what I want to hear, what I’ve always wanted you to say to me.”
He still doesn't understand how much he hurt me. And he doesn't deserve my forgiveness.
“I’m not just saying that, it’s true. Please y/n-“
"I don't believe you. And when I said I never wanted to see you ever again I wasn't lying. So get out Ben!" You shout.
"No. I love you and I'm not leaving." Ben says back determined.
You weren't prepared for what those words did to you. You weren't prepared for the floodgate of emotions that exploded the moment those words passed through his lips or the way it felt like you were being tugged in two different directions. Because despite wanting to throw him across the room again, those three little words made you want to run into his arms and hold him close, made you want him to take you to bed and make you forget all the shitty things that happened forty years ago, make it like he never left.
But you couldn't do it. As much as you wanted to forgive him, you couldn't because you didn't trust him anymore, you didn't trust that he could give you what you wanted.
“Too bad! I won’t do this to myself again. All I did was care about you, help you. I stood by you and made excuses for the person you became and I held on to this picture of the boy you used to be. The one I fell in love with. The one that used to climb in my window when things were hard. The one that took me to my first baseball game. The one who danced with me. The one that made me feel like less of a freak because he understood me. And the one that begged me to leave Howard and everything I knew and come with him. That night we were together I saw that boy again. I loved that boy. I would have done anything for him and I did. But he’s not here anymore. And I hate myself for holding on to him as long as I did.”
"But I told you I loved you!" Ben exclaims.
“Just saying that isn’t enough, not after everything that happened!” You shout. "You're forty years too late Benjamin. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m exhausted and I’m going to go to bed. And I don’t want you to be here when I wake up.”
"Y/n please-" You hate how he sounds when he says it, like he's broken, because Ben has never once sounded that way in all the years you'd known him. You hate how he looks. How his dark hair is falling forward into his face and he looks so much like the boy you used to love that it makes you want to scream, because you wanted to believe that he was gone, but all you see when you look up at him is that boy. There is not one shred of Soldier Boy in the way he looks right now and you hate that. You hate that you wanted to forgive him, that all it took was him looking like at you like that. But you still can't do it.
"Just go." Your throat thickening as you say it, fresh tears trailing down your cheeks. "I don't want you here. I never want you to come here ever. I never want to see you again.” You lie pushing past him and walk down the dark hallway, slamming and locking your bedroom door behind you. Your body sinks to the floor as you pull your knees up into your chest, sobs shaking your body and tears pour from your eyes.
How many tears can I spend on one man? How do I still have any left after all these years? How could I have been stupid to think that I was over him? That I could just go to Russia, break him out, and then push him out of my life so easily? None of what just happened was easy.
Your face presses into your knees. You want to call Rosemary, call her and tell her what happened, but your phone is still on the counter and you couldn't go back out there, because you knew he was still there. Standing in your living room looking too perfect after all these years and saying all the things you always wanted him to and you don’t want to go out there and forgive him.
So you stay. Your back pressed against the door, crying into your knees and hoping that this will just all end.
Because it’s got to one day right?
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*Soldier Boy POV*
He hadn't meant to reach for you, but all he wanted was to feel the gentle swell of your cheek beneath the palm of his hand, the smoothness of your skin against his rough fingertips, and to memorize the planes of your face with his touch. You were even more beautiful than he remembered. Your curves perfectly accentuated by a pair of cute paint splattered overalls that made him smile, and your hair pulled away from your face in a messy bun but still made you look effortless and striking. When he saw you standing there, it was like taking a punch to the gut. He knew that he missed you, but seeing you there warm and alive made him want to crush you against his chest and never let you go ever again.
He had laid himself bare before you, allowing himself to push through the urge to shove all his emotions back beneath the surface as his father taught him, and spoke, instead, the words he wished that he had said all those years ago.
Ben's shoulders tense when he thinks of what you shouted back at him, how broken you looked. His heart falls into the pit of his stomach when he remembers the tears in your eyes. Ben hated it when you cried. He also hated that the first time he saw you in forty years he made you cry, again.
He didn't know how to fix this. Ben thought that his apology would be enough to make you at least try to forgive him, but it hadn't. You had shoved him away from you, refused to let him touch you or comfort you-
Why is she so damn stubborn? I apologized! I told her that I loved her! Isn’t that what she wanted?
He grits his teeth together thinking about how you threw him across the room like he weighed nothing. If anyone else had done that to him, Ben would have killed them, but he knew that he deserved it. He knew you would be mad, but he thought that you would at least want to hear everything he had to say instead of cursing him out and slamming the door in his face.
When you slammed your door behind you, he had stood outside of it for an hour listening to you cry, heard your soft muffled sobs. At one point he leaned his head against the door and wished you would let him in so he could hold you while you cried, even though the thought made him feel like a pussy. He wanted to comfort you. He wished you had forgiven him, allowed him to take you to bed, allowed him to show you how sorry he was and how much he loved you. He wished that you let him help you forget the last shitty forty years that you spent without him, forget what he said and what he did to you that night.
The harsh words you yelled at him make him flinch, when you told him that you didn't want him there and never wanted him to come back. They were the words that he always feared you would say to him when he climbed in through your window at night or when he showed up at your apartment when you were still on Payback. And hearing you say those words felt worse than anything those Russian fucks did to him. Because Ben didn't know where he belonged if he wasn't with you, he didn't know what to do if you weren't in his life, you were the only thing that mattered.
How could I fuck this up this much?
Ben looks back at the clock on the wall in the kitchen which shows he'd been there for three hours waiting for you to come out of your room, but you hadn't. He knew it was because you fell asleep, he could hear your heart beat, your soft breath against the pillows, and the almost silent sounds you made when you slept. They were exactly the same as when he would fall asleep next to you and damn it he didn't realize how much he missed them until this exact moment.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How do I fucking fix this?
Ben stands from the couch and walks down the hallway for the millionth time to stand outside your door preparing to knock, but he didn't know what to say. He thought that he'd said enough, but judging by your reaction he hadn't.
The thought of saying anything else was difficult for him to swallow. It was hard enough to say what he had to you, but he was realizing he was going to have to delve even deeper to make you even look at him again or want to be around him.
Finally he goes to the front door of your apartment before he looks back down the hallway. He didn't want to leave, didn't want you to wake up and him not be there despite what you said about wanting him to leave. He wanted you to understand that he wasn't going anywhere and that he was never going to leave you ever again no matter how hard you tried to push him away. But he needed to leave now, not for long, just long enough for him to get what he needed.
He had seen the florist shop on the corner when Butcher drove up. As Ben walked down the street in the direction of the florist he remembered the conversation he had with Butcher after you slammed your door in his face. Convincing Butcher to let him remain in the apartment was difficult, but finally when Ben threatened to rip Hughie in half, Butcher relented stating that he would give Ben one night with you before he came back. That was the deal anyway, Ben had lied, because like hell he was going to leave now that he'd found you again.
Ben wasn't planning on leaving and even if you couldn't stand to look at him, Ben would not go. Even if it meant sleeping on that shitty couch every night.
He would never leave you again.
The smell of the flowers wafted out of the small shop when Ben opens the door, his eyes skating across the numerous bouquets, each one more extravagant than the last. Other women would swoon over them, but not you. His eyes fall first on roses, but he turns away. He knew that you didn’t like roses, although many believed them to be classic, Ben knew that you thought over the years that roses had become generic and overused. He of course had sent some to numerous women over the years, but he liked that you were different. He always liked that about you. He rolls his eyes when he remembered when Howard bought you some every week.
Because of course that asshole didn’t know what y/n liked. No one knows her as well as me.
The man behind the counter eyes him when he walks in. "Can I help you find something sir?"
"No." Ben says gruffy looking at the displays again, but then he sighs. "Do you have any lavender?"
"Lavender?"
"Yeah." Ben knew it was the only thing that you would accept, knew that it was your favorite because it reminded you of the house your family rented over the summers up North. Ben hated those summers. He'd break into your bedroom and sleep in your bed while thinking of you and reading the letters you sent him over and over again, the ones that you pressed fresh lavender into and the ones that made him realize just how much he needed you.
Those of course weren’t the only letters you ever sent him. When he went to boarding school he’d wait for you to send him a letter and one of your doodles or a small painting. He kept every one in a cigar box under his bed. It was why he was kicked out of boarding school number nine, a fight he had with another student began because the student had found the box and then proceeded to mock Ben endlessly by passing around the letters you sent him. Ben had never told you what the fight was about.
Ben stops as he realizes how he’s going to get you to listen to him.
“Here you are sir.” The florist reappears at the counter holding a large vase of freshly cut lavender.
“Do you have a phone I can borrow?” Ben asks.
“Sure.”
The object the man hands him is not a phone, well not a phone that Ben’s ever seen before.
“I said a phone-“
“That is a phone?” The man looks confused.
“How do I fucking call someone with this?” Ben sighs shaking the black rectangle in his hand and looking for the buttons.
The man takes the object and swipes his fingers across it before handing it back to him so Ben can see the numbers to dial. “Just push what you want and hit the green button.” The man says, looking at Ben like he's crazy.
“Oh. Thanks.” He mutters, before dialing the number and holding the phone up to his ear.
Legend answers on the first ring.
“Hey it’s me. Do you still have all my old shit from my apartment?”
“Somewhere.”
“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”
******************************************
N/A: Why not end on a cliffhanger? This chapter is a bit longer, because this week is CRAZY for me and I'm not sure when I'll be able to write the next chapter. But I'm not giving up on these two. They deserve the world.
Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you guys think. If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know :)
Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126 @simplyfixated @sleepjam @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn @lifeonawhim @soldirboy @liuope @brynanna @abramswife @xxannyxx @babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit
#soldier boy x you#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy fanfiction#soldier boy x female reader#jensen ackles soldier boy#soldier boy#soldier boy/ben#the boys#jensen ackles#soldier boy fic#billy butcher#the boys amazon#hughie campbell#the boys fanfic#jackles#the boys season 3#the boys series#the boys tv#the boys s3
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Can I request headcanons for Dammon, and Zevlor unconsciously wrapped his tail around their waist or leg (I can't decide because I love both of it too much XD) when his human gn crush is about to leave? They're surprised because they thought he was being too nice to tell them to leave so they asked with hopeful eyes if they could talk to him a bit more.
I had a great time writing this, I love tiefling tails! I hope you don't mind Anon, I added Rolan into the headcanons too :)
I'd also like to point people over to @underdark-dreams again as their recent tail headcanons have been my latest brainrot and these definitely take some inspiration from them <3
Tiefling bachelors stopping you from leaving with their tails
Dammon
Dammon finds it so hard to control his natural instincts around you
His tail swishes and curls towards you near constantly
It's something any other tiefling can recognise as him showing interest, but to you it's just 'how he is'
This time, you're both talking at his forge, discussing inconsequential things despite the fact it's already falling dark
As Dammons tail starts to sway faster you think it might be that you've overstayed your welcome
Dammons lovely after all and might not want to send you home
Your attempt at saying good night is interrupted however, as a firm tail wraps over your back and holds you in place
As your voice fades, Dammons face bursts into a blush, finally realising what he's done
The tail leaves you almost as fast as it appeared, a disappointing development
Dammon clears his throat, eyes not knowing where to settle, and finally he looks at you again
"Well, would you like to stay for dinner?"
Zevlor
This man has great self-control
Years of military work in the hellriders has perfected how he acts
What threatens to undo that is your very presence
You're with him in his makeshift office again, having a good go over the maps before lunch
Standing with a short yawn, you mention not wanting to take too much of the leaders precious time
It's then that a small panic runs through Zevlor, the man not quite ready for his company to leave, so what does he do?
Wraps his tail gently around your calf
He near hangs his head in shame over how forward the gesture was, even for a non tiefling like you
What reassures him is hearing your laugh ring through the room, surprised eyes looking back up at you
"I'm- I am so sorry, I didn't mean to."
"Zevlor, if you want me to stay, I'd love to."
This man never wants to let you go
Rolan
I can very vividly see how exactly this would happen with Rolan
We all know this man is so, so stubborn and he hates doing what others tell him to
He's the master of Ramaziths tower, it's been a long day of lectures, he's still grading papers despite the raging cramp in his hand
So you creep into his study to try and ease him away and off to his bed
Rolans shoulders tense under your touch before relaxing again, the only response you'll get from him other than a small hum
After what feels like ages, you decide he's much too stubborn even for you
Nothing works, soft words, rubbing his shoulders gently, whispered threats-
It's only once you turn away that a sneaky tail wraps around you waist and pulls
In no time, you find yourself sitting across the wizards lap, his face pressing into your neck
His breath is warm over your skin, his tail even more so as it curls comfortably around you
Rolan sounds truly exhausted when he finally speaks
"I'll go to bed, but only if you come with me."
#baldurs gate 3#bg3#baldurs gate 3 x reader#bg3 x reader#baldurs gate 3 dammon#baldurs gate 3 zevlor#baldurs gate 3 rolan#dammon x reader#zevlor x reader#rolan x reader#bri answers
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OMG i just saw your !MafiaGhost on how they met but can you do how !MafiaJohnPrice met with the reader? (if you haven't already and have the time of course. 😊💕.)
mafia!John Price x fem!Reader
John Price has always walked a different path in life than people like you. And yet, despite your status, he learns that the two of you are more alike than he thought. Or maybe it's just wishful thinking.
mafia!141 masterlist
warnings: vague mentions of death and violence, infidelity, crude language, hurt/comfort, unhealthy relationship dynamics
wc: 4.3k
an: sorry this took me a bit to answer! as you can see i got carried away. also, as we're headed into the new year, i'd just like to take a moment to say thank you to everyone who's been supporting my works! i recently hit 1k followers, and i cannot thank you guys enough for your lovely comments <3 i hope you all enjoy :)
“You see that girl right there? You stay away from her. She’s nothing but trouble.”
Those were the first words John’s father ever said about you. He used one long, crooked finger to point you out in the crowd of other students who mingled about the room with their parents. Everyone had gathered in the school gymnasium for the science fair where all Year 8 students had projects and posters set up on rickety fold tables. Voices echoed endlessly off of the hard floor and walls that it was almost overwhelming.
Really, he didn’t agree with his father about you being trouble. You were plenty kind, and well liked by students and teachers alike due to your kindness and intellect. A proper student, one that everyone else in the school strived to be. There were times where your words bit harder than most would have liked, but John just saw that as you telling things the way they were. He liked that about you. Admired you, even. But then he saw the real reason why his father said those words.
The man who accompanied you oozed authority and power, both in his stance and the way he walked. People regarded him like he was the King of England himself both in how they spoke to him and stepped around him like he could part a crowd with just a single glance. Most importantly, this man was your father, and he donned a uniform fit for only the chief of police himself. His father never liked police officers very much. They always made things difficult when it came to running the family business.
It wasn’t until Year 11 that he actually talked to you. Or, more like you talked to him. By some terrible twist of fate, his maths teacher sat the two of you together in the small, double seated desks that laid in perfect lines around the entirety of the room. He learned that you liked to doodle in the corner of your paper during lectures, and had a tendency to tap your pencil against the desk while taking exams. He liked the way your eyebrows knitted together in concentration, and how soft your voice was when whispering answers to the table next to you.
He didn’t have time to think about you often, not that he should have. John Price was unfortunate enough to come from a family that had a long line of brutal patriarchs that often conditioned equally as cruel heirs. Once he turned sixteen he was forced to go along with his father during his work escapades where he very quickly learned how to clean up bodies without dirtying himself. He often showed up at school with various cuts and bruises, and with heavy bags under his eyes. Balancing the life of a killer and a student was tiring work.
“Red color corrector will hide the bruise on your eye.”
It took John a moment to realize you were talking to him, and even then he still didn’t fully believe it until he looked over and saw you staring at him. You were leaned forward over your desk with your hand lazily propping up your head while you waited for him to answer. His pencil halted in its dance across his work as he brought his full attention your way.
“Color corrector?” he repeated.
“Yeah, you know. Green hides red marks from acne, orange hides dark circles, red for… very dark circles,” you said, tilting your head at him. “I’ve got some in my bag, if you’d like. Though, you’d have to find your own shade of foundation.”
Your bluntness and slight humor towards the shiner on his eye had him chuckling, which only made the smile on your face grow into a smirk.
“You sound like an expert,” he noticed.
“I am,” you quipped before grinning. Carefully, you reached a hand up to the collar of your uniform and pulled down, exposing the side of your neck and some of your collar bone. There were several, small and faint hickies that he probably wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for you pointing them out. “A girl’s gotta have her fun.”
John liked your humor. And maybe there was something a little comforting knowing that someone like you was getting into trouble, too. Albeit, significantly less violent trouble than him, but that was for the best anyway. Maybe it gave him hope that someone like you and someone like him could actually have something in common. That he could resemble something that was normal.
A few years passed, and John began to drift from you bit by bit. You ended up graduating at the top of the class which earned you several offers from the most prestigious schools across the country, and it was all anyone talked about. Great things awaited you with opportunities to see distant lands, meet new people, and live a good and honest life.
As for John, his father died when he was twenty-three. Murdered, to be exact, and in a manner eerily similar to the way his mother had been. Cold, calculated, and ruthless, his fathers existence had been snuffed out by a single bullet where his blood stained the pillow that covered his face.
The torch had been passed down, and its handle was still bloody.
Over the years he grew rigid and battle hardened in the business of violence. He earned plenty of scars, and built upon his fathers empire until it was twice as big and infinitely more dangerous. It was the only thing his father had ever managed to teach him; how to be dangerous. Everyone who once thought the Price’s were people to fuck with learned very quickly that the new Don had nothing to lose but his own life; one that he didn’t care all too much about.
The only thing he held close to him was the ghosts of his past, which was why he found himself standing in line at the florist’s shop. Even while running a quick errand, his phone vibrated in his pocket non-stop from merciless amounts of emails flooding his inbox. Mostly updates about certain events within the family that he attempted to lazily check as the woman in front of him spoke sweetly to the shopkeeper. Her voice was so soft, so comforting, so… familiar?
He didn’t realize it was you in front of him until you turned to leave with a small bouquet of flowers in your hands. Even after all those years he could recognize the features of your face like it was second nature. The shopkeeper spoke to him and asked him what she could do to help him, but her words didn’t even register in his mind. His feet moved on their own accord, and your name slipped out of his lips before he could do anything to stop it.
Once you turned around to face him he found that the air had been knocked completely out of his lungs. It had been years since he had seen you, and you had changed so much; grown into your features, and turned into a beautiful woman that left him speechless. However, you didn’t regard him with the same dreamy gaze; instead, you stood there and stared at him as you awkwardly adjusted the flowers in your arms.
“Yes?” you asked tensely.
You didn’t recognize him. Of course, it made sense. He had grown significantly taller, his facial hair was full and thick, and for once he wasn’t sporting a shiner. His clothes were also significantly nicer, as he seemed to have grown fond of business casual as of late. If anything, your confusion was more humorous than anything else because he should have seen it coming.
“John, John Price,” he said as if he was introducing himself for the first time.
There was something about the way your eyes lit up at his name that had him feeling warmer than he had in a long while. A precious grin broke out on your lips as you took a step closer to him and laughed in the way someone does when they’ve figured out the answer to a riddle, and it was too contagious for John to not chuckle with you.
“I didn’t recognize you!” you exclaimed, still giggling. “God, it’s been years! Staying out of trouble, I hope?”
“Getting in just enough to keep things interesting,” he countered.
It was like no time had passed at all. You were still that star pupil that you were all those years ago, and he could still hear your pencil tapping on your desk clear as day. It felt unreal.
“What’s the occasion?” he then asked, gesturing to the flowers you held.
“Oh,” you said, as if surprised. “Well, it’s, uhm, the anniversary of my dad’s passing.”
The chief of police? Your father? That man who always held himself so powerfully had been shoved into the cold, unforgiving earth? When he was a kid that man had always seemed indestructible. Then again, so did every other adult when you’re at that age.
“I’m sorry to hear that, I hadn’t heard,” he quickly apologized.
Despite the terrible awkwardness of the conversation, you still smiled. “It’s alright. Was a while ago now, anyway. But, uh, what about you?” you asked, gesturing towards him and his empty arms.
“Mum’s birthday,” he answered simply.
His response made you smile something small and bittersweet. “How sweet of you. I bet she’ll love them.”
“Yes, they’ll make for good decoration.”
Something settled between the two of you; something that had never been there before. Not while you were children; not when you grew up together. Whatever it was, it was unfamiliar, and much too suffocating, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to welcome it or not.
“Well, I ought to get going,” you excused politely. “Got a few more errands to run. But it was really good seeing you again, John.”
This was the part where he should have said goodbye. Wished you farewell just for you to vanish and most likely never see him again. If he was a smart man, John would have done just that, and instead he found his hand diving into his pocket before he could stop it. He grabbed a pen and stole one of the shop's business cards off of the counter where he quickly scribbled down something in the negative space before holding it out for you to take.
“Here. I’m certain you get this a lot, but if you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be there,” he assured you.
To his surprise, you took the card without hesitation where your eyes quickly scanned his rushed handwriting while you thanked him. As you held the card in front of you, something caught John’s attention. There was a metallic glint on your finger, one so bright that it nearly blinded him, and he realized you wore a large, gaudy ring. It was something given to you in poor taste, surely. Something that attempted to steal the spotlight of your beauty rather than compliment it.
“Did you get married?” he asked in what he told himself was curiosity.
You paused for a moment as you glanced at the ring on your finger. With such a large and obnoxious gem on a thin band, he was surprised it hadn’t snapped off.
“Oh, not yet. Just engaged,” you said in an odd tone. As if you couldn’t stand to look at the ring any longer, you shoved the card into your pocket before smiling at him. “Thank you, again.”
He tried to forget about you after that. Tried to forget about that ring on your finger and the way your voice changed when you mentioned your engagement. But it was so easy to worry about you; to care about you. Even after all those years you were still just as sweet and well spoken, but he was still John Price. Now the Don of the most lethal mafia in the country, he shouldn’t have been around anyone like you. You were the chief of police’s daughter, the girl who graduated top of his class in school and went to university; trouble. Nothing but trouble.
So he kept to his own work. Ran his club on the south end of the city, washed the blood out of his shirt, and spent his nights sipping brandy that was too expensive and well crafted for a man like him. But then he thought about the dress that you’d wear, how you would do your hair, what song you’d want to have your first dance to… it was moments like that when he was glad that he had given you his number rather than the other way around. He was even more glad that you hadn’t made an effort to reach out to him. It was better that way.
“You alright, boss?”
Those three words tore John right out of his thoughts and slammed him right back down to earth. Back to the thundering bass that shook the walls around him in the nightclub, back to real life and the man who sat at the desk in front of him, typing away on the computer.
“Tired,” John replied simply.
“You’re always tired,” the man countered. He paused his typing at the computer and ran a hand over his hair, which he had styled into a slightly grown out mohawk. “Even then you never space out this bad.”
Whatever Soap, his electronics specialist, was trying to get at, John certainly wasn’t in the mood for it. Sighing, he leaned back further in his seat while he stared at the man with a tense expression. “Do you have the intel or not?”
A small chuckle came from the corner of the office where another man sat, seemingly bored as he typed away on his phone. “Way to piss the man off.”
“Aye, I’ll turn that phone of yours into a fancy brick if you don’t watch your tone, Garrick.”
The two men chuckled at each other’s teasing just in time for John’s own phone to go off. Not expecting a call, John ripped the device out of his pocket and stared at the unrecognized caller ID with his thumb hovering over the decline button. But he hesitated. It had been months since he had given you his number, and yet a small part of him worried you might have been on the other line.
When he stood from his chair, it caught the other two men in the room off guard, but they stayed silent as they watched John accept the call and raise the phone to his ear.
“Hello?” he answered.
All he got in response was a sob.
By the time John had found you, all of your tears had run dry and a brutal fury filled the empty space. It wasn’t terribly late at night, but it was plenty dark enough that the park you had run off to looked eerie and uninviting in the dim halogen lights. Knees bouncing with anxiety, you sat on a park bench and bit into your bottom lip as you watched John approach from the street.
For as much effort as he put into looking calm on the outside, it did absolutely nothing to settle the nerves fraying within him. Hearing you cry, hearing you beg for him to come get you scared him more than he cared to admit. Really, he was rather proud of himself for keeping as level headed as he did, even after he saw the tear stains on your cheeks.
It didn’t take long to coax what happened out of you, in fact, it nearly erupted out of you. That fiance of yours had proved to be less honest than he liked to paint himself as, and as the two of you sat on that park bench in the middle of the night you gave him every excruciating detail. How he had been acting strange for a few months, how he used to show you off and then suddenly wanted to keep you locked away. A part of you knew what was really happening, and yet you told yourself you were crazy until you had walked in on your fiance fucking his mistress in your shared bed.
“Four fucking years, John,” you said, trying not to grit your teeth too hard that they cracked. “Four years of being with this man just for him to do that? He moved me into his flat, wanted me to quit my job because he said he wanted to take care of me. I have nothing. I don’t have my own place, I hardly have my own money, I was an idiot and gave up everything because he asked me to and I was stupid enough to believe him.”
By that point in your rant your knees were bouncing so fast your entire body vibrated. Terrified you’d disintegrate in front of him, John reached a careful hand out and brushed it against your shoulder. Though you didn’t say anything about it, or even look at him differently, your muscles seemed to relax some.
“I could’ve been great,” you continued as your voice began to break. “I was able to go to any school in this country, I got my degree, I could’ve kept at work and been… something. And I didn’t need to. Not really. There was never anything I was trying to prove to anyone. I could’ve had a few kids with that white picket fence and stayed home to care for them. I would’ve been completely happy living that trophy wife life if it meant I was loved. But I wasn’t. I’m not, and that fucking hurts because I know I’m worth so much more than this.”
More tears fell from your eyes after that, and it didn’t take much prompting from John before you crumbled against his side. When was the last time someone had held you like that? Wrapped their arms around you and held you close? When was the last time someone comforted you and actually meant it and not just in some sort of twisted expectation of devotion? Something in you told you that you should have felt shame for blatantly sobbing on a man in such a public space at an hour like that. Another part of you didn’t really care.
It took a lot of convincing to get you to stay at his place. Eyes refusing to look at him when you gave him excuse after excuse, it was obvious that you didn’t want to burden him anymore than you already had. So you told him you could stay with your mom, or even get a hotel if that wouldn’t work, but John simply wouldn’t hear it.
Eventually you were in the living room of his house. An actual house. Not an apartment or flat in the city, but something kind and quaint in the higher end of town. He had a real lawn and backyard that was perfectly manicured, and everything on the inside of the house was much too perfect and clean. It was something straight out of the catalogs you’d see in magazines or on HGTV.
First order of business was a shower, and though it felt strange changing into John’s clothes, you would have done anything to wipe the stench of your cheating fiance off of you. And maybe it was because of the spite that boiled inside of you, but you found that you liked the way John’s clothes smelled significantly more than you ever liked your ex’s. Second was getting you food, and though you had told John you weren’t hungry, the scent of his buffalo chicken was too good to pass up.
It was near midnight by the time you went to bed, and John had made sure everything was set up for you in the guest room before he meandered back down to the kitchen to clean up. There was still plenty of work that needed to be finished that night back with the boys. He took comfort in knowing that you’d be safe in his house, at least, and well out of reach of that terrible excuse of a man.
When John finished cleaning things up in the kitchen, it took him a moment to notice the incessant buzzing sound that plagued the room. Like rattling glass, it made his ears quiver just listening to it, and he quickly scavenged the countertops until he found your phone resting on the island in the center of the room. Flashing lights illuminated the screen as your ex’s caller ID and photo popped up. He caught the tail end of the call, and the screen faded back to your lock screen where it claimed to have received 27 missed calls, as well as 84 unread text messages.
Where the fuck are you?
Answer your fucking phone.
Baby please.
Answer me.
Stop being a fucking bitch.
Goddamn skank.
Come on, honey it means nothing.
Are you seriously making this a big deal?
Come home before I drag you home.
I’m not fucking around.
You’re pissing me off.
Before leaving the house to head back to the nightclub, John swiped up your phone and hid it in his pocket, along with that god awful ring you didn’t care to wear anymore.
In the morning you woke up in a bed that wasn’t yours with clothes that didn’t fit you, yet you had never felt so comfortable in your entire life. It had been a long while since you last felt like you belonged; since you felt comfortable in your own skin. Still, you couldn’t stay there forever and you forced yourself up off of the mattress as you snuck your way to the living room. You were greeted by several large boxes that sat stacked neatly in the furthest corner of the room, and once again John was in the kitchen making food. He still wore the same clothes he had the night before, and they looked terribly disheveled, yet he still continued on anyway.
“Mornin’,” he greeted as he looked up from his pan where several eggs sizzled away. “Sleep alright?”
Still groggy, you approached the island where you lazily leaned against it. “Yeah. Looks like you didn’t get any, though.”
John chuckled, something tired yet still hearty at the same time. “Perceptive.”
“Always have been.”
John quickly finished up the eggs and began to dish out the food onto plates. While you waited, your fingers lazily ran over the counter top where they collided with your phone, and it took everything in you to hold back a sigh. Looking down at it, you pressed the home button where the screen lit up, expecting to see several messages from your ex, and yet there was nothing. You stood there perplexed and wondered if the man had really let you just run away from him, until you noticed something else missing.
“Have you seen my ring?” you questioned as John slid a plate of food your way.
“Your ex took it back,” John answered simply. He stood on the other side of the island for a moment before he turned around and started cleaning up the mess of ingredients and dishes that littered the counter. “I also managed to retrieve all your personal items. They’re stacked in the living room when you’re ready to look through them.”
Mouth open in surprise, you glanced back into the living room and eyed the stack of boxes before looking back at John with a raised eyebrow. “How… how’d you manage all that?”
Perhaps he should have hesitated before answering. Thought of something to say other than the truth. Instead, John didn’t miss a beat in answering you as he continued cleaning.
“He sent you a few messages last night and I saw his name pop up on your phone. Didn’t realize you were engaged to the mayor’s son,” he explained. “I have some contacts who were able to get me an audience with him. I figured it would be easier for me to grab your items than you doing it yourself. Save you the trouble, at least. He shouldn’t be bugging you again.”
For the longest time, you didn’t know what to say. There were a few glaringly obvious holes in his explanation, namely why there weren’t any notifications on your phone. If he had only glanced at it, they would have still been there, and yet they had been cleared. Then there was the fact your ex was too self centered to ever have an audience with anyone he didn’t actively seek out. Perhaps even stranger, you weren’t at all surprised. Maybe you were a little taken aback at everything he had done for you, but not at the methods he used to get it done. Because you had known John’s secret from the very beginning. After all, you had been the chief’s daughter.
“John,” you said, voice soft and even.
Drying his hands off on a small towel, he turned around to finally face you where he was surprised to find you smiling. And god, you were stunning, so much so that all he could do was stand there and wait for you to continue.
“I’m glad I ran into you at the flower shop,” you finished. “Thank you. For everything.”
It wasn’t what he expected you to say, and still he mimicked your smile, although it was much more tired than yours had been. Life was strange. Nothing had ever gone as planned in John’s life, and yet there was you. Through all the years and the shit and the struggles, you had found your way back into his life, and for some strange reason, he found himself hoping you’d stick around this time, no matter how much trouble you caused.
“Any time, darling.”
don't let me in with no intention to keep me
jesus christ, don't be kind to me
honey, don't feed me, i will come back
#mafia!price#mafia!john price#mafia!141#john price x reader#price x reader#captain price x reader#captain john price x reader
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cliché jealousy trope except i suck at dialogue and ghost is a manchild in this but i still love him anyways!! nsfw <3
“Gaz is about to set the rack, if you’d like to join, Lieutenant.” You leaned one hand on his table and twisted your pool stick in the other, bending down to be heard over the loudness of the building.
Something about the way his title rolled off your liquor-smoothed tongue in that syrupy, almost meddlesome tone, had him swallowing thickly under his balaclava. He leaned back against the wall, toying with the glass of a thin line of bourbon in his gloved fingers. He made sure nobody got a peak of his face when he lifted the fabric for a drink, and despite your efforts and lingering eyes on him throughout the night and years that you’ve known him, he would continue to remain a mystery on that end.
“You really enjoy playin’ that nonsense with them?” he glared over at Soap and Gaz, downing shots and flipping the glasses upside down on the table as they waited for your return. You looked over your shoulder, and Soap threw his arms up to ask what was taking you so long. You returned to Ghost:
“I do. No harm in celebrating, Sir.”
“I’ll consider, but try not to make a scene out of it, Sergeant. You know those boys ‘ave got a hard-on for you.”
“Is that such a bad thing? Maybe tonight one of them will get lucky,” you smiled. Your words were uncharacteristic of you, and he was drawn back a bit in a mix of amazement and bitterness. He looked past you once more and Soap and Gaz were beginning to grow impatient.
“Don’t let me hold you back. Go on, I’ll watch.”
You pushed yourself from the table with a toothy smile, and returned to the game. You went up against Gaz, while Soap helped you to position yourself as you claimed to be relatively new to the sport. ‘Ladies first,’ and you broke the game, the end of your stick striking the white ball. Soap hovering behind you to guide your hits, and you got stripes, leaving Gaz stuck with solids. With each turn, Soap leaned heavier into you, hands staying on yours and your hips for longer to adjust you. You’d be a dirty liar if you said you didn’t enjoy his big arms around you, and his Scottish accent whispering tips directly into your ear. In full transparency with yourself, he had you worked and shuddering, and if your Lieutenant wasn’t already fuming with the last words you left him with, he would be sure to rub them in your pretty face later and have you gasping for air as the thought of another man, let alone member of Task Force 141, touching you had surely slipped from your memory.
You sent the white ball rolling into the black ball, pocketing it with the help of Soap and you dropped the stick on the table, both leaning up and cheering, embracing each other in a hug. You squeezed his waist as he praised your victory in your ear. Gaz was emulous, not so much because of his loss, but of the way you celebrated with Soap. Though, it was short-lived when you were pulling away from Soap and making your way over to him. You walked around behind him, placing your hands on his shoulders and massaging them lightly. You leaned up on your toes to whisper, “Good game, Garrick,” and he sarcastically crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. You dropped with a residual hand on his bicep, and you spoke to the two men, “You two play another round, I need to speak with the Lieutenant.”
Gaz mourned the loss of your hand as you walked across the bar and back to your Lieutenant. You clocked that he hadn’t touched his drink, or barely moved an inch since you were last there, as you slid into the booth opposite of him.
“You made quite the show.”
He spoke up before you could, an obvious change in his tone; disappointed and dropped down a notch from his already impossibly intense voice.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lieutenant,” you teased, but he was clearly not in the mood. His brows pulled together, distraught. How could you not know what you fucking did? To him?
He immediately relaxed his face. “Drink this, we’re leaving.” He pushed his glass towards you, the small amount of brown liquid sloshing with the movement, and he stood from the booth.
“We’re leaving?” you nearly scoffed out loud. Eyes staring down at yours when you caught his attention, he towered over you with the new dynamic. “I’m having fun here, Sir.”
“I noticed. Practically givin’ ol’ Johnny a fuckin’ lap dance over there.”
You definitely weren’t, and you took offense to his crudeness, but you also wouldn’t argue with him, a superior, and mentor - the only reason you were where you are. “And what am I supposed to tell them?” You nodded over to the pool table you came from.
“Make somethin’ up. Or don’t say anythin’ at all.”
He abandoned you at the table and walked to the bartender. As he pulled out his wallet, you watched in worry, knowing you had fucked up. You weren’t just going to leave without saying goodbye. You downed the little remaining bourbon in his glass with a wince before standing to tell Soap and Gaz you were leaving. Some bullshit reason and apology that you yourself could barely understand, your mind being everywhere else in that moment. Ghost paid cash for the drinks the three of you had racked up, plus some more for the boys to have a good rest of their night. He shoved his wallet in his back pocket and met you at the door without as little as a nod to the others.
“We’re stayin’ at the hotel across the street. You got a problem with that, Sergeant?”
He spoke to you like you were a little kid. You shook your head, and followed him out the door when he muttered a quick ‘good’ and nothing more.
-
The walk to the hotel was dead silent, and the ride up to the room was ten-times worse. You disrespected your Lieutenant, and while you couldn’t tell if you were actually in the wrong, or if everything was being blown out of proportion, the consequences would remain the same, whatever they may be.
The elevator dinged, doors opening up to the modern suite that the Captain had rented for the Lieutenant. The Sergeants never got rooms nearly as luxurious, on the rare occasion of being stuck in a different city for the night. Ghost’s palm landed on the small of your back, walking you both into the room as you gawked at the tall ceiling and fully glass walls looking down on the city. You stopped in your tracks to admire the view, though Ghost’s form passing you quickly snapped you back to reality. He began taking his jacket off when you finally broke the silence.
“…I’m sorry, Sir-”
“You disrespected a direct order.”
He tossed his jacket over the back of a chair, along with his wallet onto the table that went with it. He could barely face you, now unhooking his gun holster from his belt.
“I didn’t think you were serious.” Your voice was minuscule compared to his, but still held on to some confidence.
“‘Course I’m bloody serious, _____.” He brought his handgun down onto the table harshly, noise lining up with the peak incline of volume in his words.
Your name through his teeth struck your heart like a dagger, never sounding dirtier. He walked closer to you, watching his space.
“You think I wan’ t’watch another man touch you? Let alone Soap? And you fuckin’ let him?” he pried, allowing his tone and the likely apologetic answers in your mind to lecture you for him. “Bloody hell, _____, you’re testing me.”
“I said I was sorry, alright? It won’t happen again.”
He scoffs, turning away and back to his stuff on the table. He wouldn’t let up. “Bet it fuckin’ will.”
His words replayed in your mind. ‘Another man’? As opposed to who, himself? And his demeanor the entire night, practically screaming at you to focus. You relaxed in your stance, your next words coming off a little too straightforward.
“You’re jealous.”
“What?” he snapped, trekking towards you in an instant. For a man who appeared as unbothered as himself, he tended to pace quite a bit when he was angry. He halted once you were faced with his chest, dark squinted eyes set on your devilish ones.
“You don’t want ‘another man’s’ hands on me, you just said.” You pried, and pried back, trying to get a reaction. “That’s why you’re doing all this?”
He stayed silent. You took a risk and snaked your hands to the sides of his waist, tugging at the fabric and looking up at him.
“It’s called jealousy, Sir.”
“M’not jealous…trying t’teach you a goddamn lesson.” He lied; he was all sorts of jealous, and possessive with you, but he’d never admit it to you or himself. He stared down at you, dumbified by your actions.
“So you don’t like me?”
“I don’t appreciate it when you act like anyone knows you better than me.”
“Well, you know me best,” your hands trailed up his chest, to the base of his neck, where the fabric of his balaclava ended. “Wouldn’t’ve brought me to your room otherwise.” His skin was on fire under yours, and his mind abandoned all sense of reasoning once you called him out. “…But I barely know you.”
“You’re really goin’ to make me do this?”
“If it’s what you want.”
He let out a frustrated sigh, giving it some time. His choice was obvious—not even close to needing any deliberation—but he relished in the sight of you biting down on your lip, heels rolling back and legs flexing in anticipation.
“Oughta be the death of me, Kid… Take it off.”
He shocked you with his sudden leniency, while his voice did remain the same amount of gruffness and authority.
You tilted your head, “Really?”
“If it’ll help you sleep at night. Don’t make me regret it.”
With a smile, you slipped your fingers under the fabric and dragged it up his neck. Gently pulling it over his jaw, unveiling his dark stubble and pinkish lips. His eyes stayed on yours as you scanned every detail on the lower section of his face. The end reached his nose and you folded the fabric over the bridge of it when he suddenly grasped your wrist with his gloved hand and muttered a breathy ‘stop’. He didn’t give you much time to think before he was leaning down, pulling you in with his other palm on the nape of your neck. He kissed you deeply, and you moaned on his tongue out of stupefaction. You couldn’t say exactly how long you two stood like that, drunk on the released tension and few sips of alcohol from earlier. You pulled away, and your eyes met.
“Thought you were going to let me take it all the way off, Sir.”
“Always been a greedy girl,” he dragged, before drawing you into another kiss, much hungrier than the previous. He began to walk you back towards the bed, and you trusted his path and blindly went with it. You giggled, stumbling over your feet and, consequently, words.
“Can’t help it. Wanna see all of you,” you smiled.
The backs of your knees hit the mattress, and he pushed both hands lightly on your shoulders to get you to sit down. He got on one knee in front of you, and you swooned over the view.
“Go on.”
His words were simple, but you grinned dumbly at them. You reached your fingers out and slipped them under the fabric of his balaclava once again to pull it all the way off, discarding it to the mattress beside you. You’ve seen him without it a few times throughout the years, but his strikingly good looks always took you aback. Short hair that matched his beard in color, and the bump on the bridge of his nose. Dark circles under his eyes he usually had covered with the black greasepaint of Ghost’s look, a half-inch, horizontal scar right in the middle of his eyebrow that complimented the one on the opposite cheek. You’d never gotten to examine his face this close-up, so you couldn’t help but stare. You pulled him back up for one more kiss before he was back to his knees.
He untied your boots for you, throwing them to the side before he hooked his fingers under the waistband of your cargoes and harshly pulled them off from under you. You gasped at the cold air hitting your thighs, mostly in pleasure from his uncaringness for the formalities, and roughness with your plush body. You could even consider it desperation, manhandling you like you were not but a feather in his grasp, still, more valuable than any prized possession a man could own. He soaked in every inch of your skin he uncovered before you were only left in your panties, black, and laced as if you wore them for him, and the long sleeve, wooly shirt that matched his, and he absolutely reveled in the sight of you.
He really shouldn’t be doing this; you’re still young, and his responsibility, and he’s your superior - it’s wrong, written out in every language. Even a blind dog could see it. But he needed it. He needed you, so bad, he couldn’t even recognize himself in his thoughts. And you were just so fucking pretty, and witty and smart, a perfect soldier. He’d end up dead if he were to ignore it any longer.
He rolled up his sleeves before pulling you closer to the edge of the bed, simultaneously lifting your legs to hook over his shoulders. Your stomach was lit aflame, sweet butterflies and lively, strident sparks on burned wicks fighting for dominance. The eye contact this man held, you swore you would be a giggling puddle on the ground if it weren’t for your profession; still, it showed through in your blinding smile, painfully obvious, and it struck him with something he could only describe as a longing infatuation, so incredibly uncharacteristic of him it almost made him sick.
His beard against the bare skin of your thighs already had you squirming under his hold, and his bourbon-tainted breath only made it worse when he spoke.
“Such a pretty, little cunt of yours, Love.” He looked you in the eyes, “Are you gon’to let me taste it?” he hummed, and you leaned back on your elbows. His dirty words sounded native on his tongue, in that gruff, Manchester accent of his, the same one that had you dizzy when he was barking commands over the comms device in your ear.
You couldn’t have been more attracted to him than you were at that moment. You always admired his maturity, the experience he had over you, so you could only learn from the best. His strength and confidence in the field had you head over heels, and seeing it carried over to the bedroom, his prioritization and utter devotion to you, was a sight for the history books. While he saw his age as a flaw, you knew he’d be the only one to treat you right, and you wanted nothing more than for it to be mutual.
“Please, Sir.”
“Please, what?”
“Just- eat me out, please,” you whined. “Taste me.”
His lips pulled tight and curved at one corner. “Atta girl.”
He left messy kisses all up and down your inner thighs that encased his head, some leaving behind marks that would be there the next morning, as a reminder. His heavy palms, cold against your natural warmth and with bruised knuckles, massaged at the plush fat of your hips and below, and he finally landed his lips on your soaked-through panties.
You gasped at the first contact of his mouth with your clothed cunt, followed by the sweet moans and swears spilling from your swollen lips and slack jaw from the feeling of his rough tongue and the heat of his mouth painfully close to your center. The bump of his nose relentlessly teased your clit, and after one-too-many pleas from your breath, he wasted no time in slipping your panties down your legs and to the floor next to him, and shoving his tongue where you needed him the most. You watched on with dazed eyes, utterly drunk on the sight, while his couldn’t decide on what to focus on, your pretty sex-face or the messy cunt in front of him, wanting both engraved in his mind forever.
You tasted better than what would be described as heaven, and he could be like this for hours if he wasn’t so badly off, further straining his jeans with every noise you made, every second his eyes were on you. He had to take care of you first, warm you up for his taking, because he actually cared.
His tongue worked at your core like any task given to him; effective and efficient, and with the same rigorous aptitude he carried through the most important parts of life. You came apart under his mouth and grasp, the air filled with a mix of your pointless begging and sweet praises as to how well he made you feel, along with his occasional groans and hums from your taste and attempted grinding in search of more. He fed you everything you needed, but you couldn’t help but want more. More of him, his touch, the feel of being his.
As if he could read you, he granted your wish by bringing a hand to your cunt, and he slid two of his fingers in you without warning, maximizing your pleasure and overwhelming your every sense. Unable to hold yourself up anymore, you fully leaned back on the mattress, hands coming up to your chest to grope yourself through and under the fabric of your shirt. A heavy, tattooed arm on your lower belly weighed you down as you fought to arch your back, to find more within his mouth, cum faster, anything, as his two fingers slid in and out of your tight cunt, matching the pace of his tongue.
“You think any’ve those mutts could do this to you?” he mumbled, about the soldiers back at the bar, vibrations of his voice having you feeling more depraved than ever.
“No. Never,” you panted. “Only you, Sir. It’s only you- shit…I’m your girl.”
Your hand flew to the back of his head, the other finding his on your belly. He laced his fingers with yours, squeezing tight as those beautiful, soft moans spilled from your lips, uncontrollable and needy.
“That’s right, Love…you’re mine, and I’ll be yours here soon enough…just cum on my fingers for me, yeah? Can you do that, Sweetheart?”
You squeezed your eyes shut, nodding an “mhm” as you rolled your head back against the mattress, attempting to find solace with the pressure in your head growing stronger by the minute. With labored breathing speeding up, the thick rope in your lower belly finally tore, and you came hard on his fingers like he asked you to, pleasure intensified by the heavy weight of his hand on your gut. Your nails clawed at the nape of his neck, the pain combined with the warmth of your cunt pulling guttural moans from his throat as he helped you through your high. You whined when his tongue left you, a smug look on his face you couldn’t even see, and again when he pulled his fingers from your cunt, humming in satisfaction.
“Look at that, Love.” He stood from his position on the ground, eyes scanning over your body, height towering over your form. “Fuckin brilliant. You want t’taste yourself?”
You sat up and leaned back on your palms with straight elbows, a wave of dizziness hitting you despite your leniency as you moved, and you nodded, with big eyes and a fucked-out expression from just his fingers and tongue alone.
He brought his soaked hand to your face and shoved the digits between your lips. You opened graciously for him, and he pressed the pads of his fingers down against your tongue, your lips tightening around him. You moaned around him at the tangy taste of your messy arousal, and the overbearing space just his fingers took up in your mouth.
“You like it?” he asked, almost mocking you. He pulled them out of your mouth once your tongue had sufficiently cleaned them, and a short-lived string of your drool followed.
You stood from the edge of the bed, a stupidly-bright smile on your lips. “Mhm. And I like you.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Your fists locked onto the front of his sweater, leaning into his frame and spinning him one-eighty.
“How much?”
“Can I show you?”
You pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed, and he more than complied.
“You may.”
You gave him a sweet grin and climbed onto his lap, thighs encasing his much larger ones as best you could. His palms immediately found your waist, and he hummed. You littered his face and jaw with kisses as you reached for the bottom of his sweater, pulling it up and over his head and discarding it to the floor, leaving him shirtless and you speechless. Broad shoulders and frame built of muscle naturally obtained through his line of work, scars ranging from all sizes and causes scattered across his torso. Abs still prominent even when slightly slouched and not flexing, and the squishy pectorals you knew you’d be falling asleep on tonight, wrapped in the blanket of his big arms.
You engulfed each other in another kiss—deep, sensual, and downright desperate—as your hands trailed down his neck and chest, finding the buckle of his belt and pulling the leather apart. The sounds of metal clashing together rang heavily in your ears, and his breathing was jagged. You eagerly undid his jeans and finally pulled his boxers down far enough to pull out his hard cock, shamelessly gawking at the size. His desperation showed through his sighs and strengthened grip on your waist as you wrapped your smaller fingers around his thickness, his brows knitting together and eyes prying shut at the limited touch. You swiped your thumb over the wet, swollen tip of him, and he just about lost it right there, grumbling a quiet swear and tensing his shoulders.
A distraction, or his downfall, he curled his fingers under the hem of your sweater. He asked with his eyes, and you answered by raising your arms and letting him take it off, his cock falling against his stomach. You sat perched on his lap, in nothing but your bra, and for once, taller than him. His lips connected with the flat area of your chest above your breasts as you held the back of his head, and he looked up through his eyebrows. He didn’t have to ask for you to reach behind yourself and undo your bra, and it fell and you pulled it to the side, allowing it to join the shirts on the floor. His mouth was immediately on your sensitive bud and after a moment, the other, and you felt the phantom of cool liquid pour down your back once the cold air of the room made contact with where his hot mouth was. You held him close, something of a motherly instinct washing over you for this behemoth of a man, dominating killer and all suddenly gone. You had Simon Riley, rather than the Ghost you were familiar with.
You took his cock in your hand and raised your hips, sinking onto him, letting him feel you in full, pulling a long and loud moan from each of you. You adjusted to his size for a moment, catching your breath, and he latched his lips onto your neck when you started to move, marking you as his. The stretch burned wonderfully; you had never had anyone even close to his size, and your belly fluttered fiercely because you knew he could tell.
You rode him sweetly, like you were the one taking care of him this time - the insatiable feeling of being on top of a man of his making, the same man you’ve seen snap bones and necks like they were twigs, ruthlessly torture an unfortunate accomplice with no complaint, and end the lives of helpless soldiers of the opposition with no remorse. Nothing could beat looking down at his agape lips and furrowed brows, twisted in the pleasure that only you were giving him; you relished in the explicitly nurturing power, and you’d do it til the day you dropped, if he would allow you.
He consumed every inch of you with his eyes and hands what his lips couldn’t reach, enthralled by your entire being, on him, with him, after knowing you for so long. He wondered if you’ve wanted this for as long as he did, and for a moment, he had completely forgotten about his responsibilities, his soul focused entirely on you, and your needs only. Those needs of yours, being to fulfill his, and just finally be his.
You took his right wrist in your hands, dragging it up your waist and chest, and brought it to your neck. He rested his calloused fingers on your skin, loosely wrapped just under your jaw, and you urged him to be harsher, to squeeze. A craving look in your eyes, virtually screaming at him, ‘go on, punish me.’
punish me for misbehaving at the bar, disrespecting your wishes even if they were unfair and selfish. punish me for not seeing it earlier, for thinking anyone else could have me in any way. show me whose girl I am, and will always be.
He would never turn you down, nor would he deny that he wanted it just as much, despite the gut feeling of guilt clawing at him through skin and muscle. He tightened his grip, feeling the throaty vibrations of your moans amongst the pads of his fingers, and you smiled with the small victory over him.
“Fuckin Christ, Sweetheart. You enjoyin’ this?” he taunted, panted, almost, and you saw right through his words; he enjoyed it, too, supported by his flexing muscles, labored breathing, and willingness to comply with the dynamic in the first place. You nodded feverishly, whimpering under his weakening gaze.
The sight had him crumbling; his hand dwarfing your neck, rough skin and veins and all, having yours appear to be the silkiest, most fragile object one could lay their hands on. While he wouldn’t, he could, so easily squeeze tighter, strip you completely of your breath and blood flow, crush you, and the idea had him lightheaded, hungrier, and you squirming around him. Needy, and desperate to redeem yourself.
He wanted to gain his control back, be the strong mentor you always knew him to be, the one to never give a second thought to his actions, think too long or get attached, compromised. But by God, did it feel good to let you take him, take care of him, and the needs he tried so hard to suppress. Deep whimpers faltered in his throat, unruly in their attempted and, only partially failed, escape.
“This is what you wanted, right, Sir?” you nearly pouted, small hands doing their best in grasping onto and clawing at the thick arm that led to your throat. You felt your thighs becoming weaker, shaking as you tried your best to keep going, make him proud. “Make sure I’m yours for good? Fuck some sense into me I needed so bad? ‘Cause it’s working…I’ll be yours for however long you’ll have me, Sir,” you devoted, eyes big and innocent.
“Fuckin hell, Darling,” was all he could muster up, stuttering slightly as your cunt took him so well, squeezing vigorously in addition to your already there tightness.
With his hand at the base of your throat, his other arm wrapped tightly around your waist, continuing to aid you in riding his heavy cock, back and forth with the lazy raising of your hips a mere inch or two from his lap. He brought you down and his lips engulfed your swollen ones, tongue bullying yours as the hand on your neck kept you in place to his liking. Rougher, meaner than before. Ravenous, desirous and aching, and you fed into his craving like the good girl you were, wanting nothing more but to please him.
He pulled away to rest his forehead on your shoulder, eyes glued shut and hot breaths fanning your skin as he could no longer control the groans emitting from deep in his throat. You were so good, your small body on top of him, riding him, and he knew he wouldn’t be lasting much longer.
He twisted his body, and yours with his, held tight to his chest, and he laid you down on the bed, pushing you further up and situating himself above you; like you were not but a featherweight toy, made to be molded into any position of his liking. He hungrily slid his cock back in your cunt with a groan, you a moaning mess, and he buried his head in the crook of your neck, hot breath having you struggling and failing to keep still. Your hands found his back, nails digging into the skin encapsulating pure muscle, moans amplified with the new angle at which he was rutting into you. His hand had abandoned your throat to grope at your breast, momentarily pinching the painfully sore bud between his rough fingertips.
Your moans became more unraveled by the second, blindly nearing your second high of the night as he continued to hit the deepest point in your womb, the friction of the stretch of his cock and pelvis against your cunt driving you up the wall in ways you never had experienced before. The tightening of your cunt around him, combined with the dragging of your nails down and between the blades of his shoulders, had him seeing galaxies, with you at the center of each of them. He twitched inside you, leaving you drunk on him, and him only.
“Cum inside me, please, Baby- whatever you do, don’t stop. Please, wanna feel you,” you whined, and he raised his head slightly to look you in the eyes, hips slowing.
‘Baby,’ you had called him, unintentional but undoubtedly sounding right in your voice, and it sealed the case of your dynamic, future and present. He was so used to Sir, Lieutenant, Ghost…he’d forgotten what it was like to be addressed as an actual person - a lover, with whatever names you would assign him. And to let him cum inside you? He would’ve never imagined it, actually being able to claim you as his own, or allowing himself to do something so risky. Funny, considering his job.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, just trust me, Baby- fuck, m’so close!”
“Fuck- call me that again, Love,” he unwinded, damn-near begged. He resumed his pace, wanting nothing more than to please you, gut feeling dizzier than ever.
say it again, please, say it again. i’m yours, i’m your baby- christ, how the fuck are you doing this to me?
You smiled at the request; the older man, stronger than the meanest bull on riding day, wants to be babied by his junior. Simon Riley — possessive and deadly, was actually a man who wanted nothing more but to be held, be had, by the willing girl he knew so well.
You would’ve started much earlier if you knew.
“Of course, Baby, making me feel so good,” you said through shaky moans, and he groaned against your shoulder, movements becoming sloppier. “Gonna make me,” you choked, “…cum on your cock, Sir…and I want you to cum with me, please? Give me everything you have, Baby- fuck!, you’re so good for me.”
Your hands moved to cradle his head as you spoke, his groans uncontrolled against your soft skin, almost whimpering, and your whines erratic as he hastily rutted into you with shambolic thrusts, refusing to cease. The zipper of his jeans grinding against your inner thighs drew to you pain, but you couldn’t be bothered whatsoever, so consumed with him, and reaching both of your highs, and nothing more - you’d be lying if you said a part of you wasn't enjoying the pain, and wanted more, as long as he was at the other end to deliver. He mumbled incoherently in your ear, back muscles flexing and his cock twitching inside you every time you squeezed around him, until the coil in your stomach finally snapped, washing over and you came quickly on his cock with a pornographic moan. His arms and pace weakened, the tightness of your overworked cunt and voice sending him spiraling into his own high of the night, and he spilled his warm cum deep in your pussy, there to stay. Nails clawing down the sides of his torso only making it all the more pleasurable, shown through the choked moan directly against your ear, having your entire body shivering under him. It all hit you without a moment to think, leaving you both winded, catching your breath, actually smiling, as he could barely hold himself up on his forearms above you.
He kissed from behind your ear and down to your collarbone, soothing each of the red, swollen marks he peppered your skin with. You giggled lightly when his lips grazed the most sensitive parts between your shoulder and jaw, arms coming up to wrap around his neck. He swore if a laugh, or face, could save lives, prevent bloodshed, it’d be yours.
“Can we stay like this for a bit?” you asked, almost in a whisper for the close proximity.
He muttered back, “I’d crush you if I let my arms up.”
“Wouldn’t be such a bad way to go,” you joked. His heart swelled, uncomfortably, and somewhat painfully.
He adjusted to his knees and pulled his cock from your cunt, the loss of his size making you whine into the sex-filled air, and he groaned lightly. The sight of his hot cum spilling to your thighs already had him hard again, and he fought his desires for another round with the sense that you both needed to rest. After a moment, he shoved his cock back in his boxers and zipped his jeans, standing from the bed.
You, too, sat up, bringing your legs together as you leaned on your elbows, shivering with his cum seeping out and staining your thighs. “Will you at least lay with me?”
Oddly, your words struck him like a dagger; something he hadn’t prepared himself for, both the concept and the impact of it.
“Need t’check on the boys at the bar.” He reached for his sweater on the floor, and you frowned. “Y’know what happened last time I left them to make it home on their own.”
You smiled as you recounted the memory; the drive to the police station and back, the relentless teasing and cleaning duties that followed as they clung to their foreheads in hopes of relieving the nasty hangover they endured.
“They’re grown men, Sir. I’m sure they can handle crossing the street and finding their rooms on a few pints,” you quipped.
He spun his sweater in his hands, and you could tell that, deep down, he didn’t want to leave in the first place.
“...I suppose you’re right,” he admitted, ditching the sweater once more.
You smiled giddily as you watched him return to the bed, around the side you were closest to. “I am about a lot of things.”
He got on the bed, slotting himself on his knees in front of yours. His hands on your knees, pushing them apart, just a bit. “Don’t get cocky, little girl.”
“I learned from the -mph- best-! Fuck, Simon!” Your sentence is strangled by your giggles when his fingers are suddenly between your upper thighs, unapologetically teasing your sensitive nerves as he collected his cum on the tips of his middle and ring fingers.
He brought them up as he taunted, “Is that right?” and he shoved his two fingers in your mouth without warning, watching your body jolt and eyes light up in shock. He quite enjoyed the view of you taking in his fingers, a little too much. “Where’s all that bite gone now, Darling?”
You savored the taste of him, paying no heed to his jeering, and instead your doe eyes returned a bashful, surprised look as you moaned audaciously around his thick fingers.
He pulled them from your lips with a pop, smirking at the expression on your face. he’s so pretty when he’s happy.
“You’re an asshole,” you laughed, failing to keep yourself in a serious, scornful manner.
“Is that any way to talk to your superior?” he jokingly ridiculed, and you rolled your eyes. An assertive hand on your jaw pulled you in for a gentle kiss, plump and pinkened lips meeting his.
“Is it protocol to fuck your Sergeant whenever you’re feeling a bit jealous?”
“Only when she doesn’t listen.”
He moved to be next to you, and you naturally gravitated to half-laying on him, head on his shoulder and a palm flat on his chest as he wrapped an arm around you. Softly, as to not break you, or himself, despite you holding him so tightly, trying to be as close to him as you possibly could without actually cracking open his ribs and crawling inside.
“Maybe I should do it more often, then.”
He scoffed. “You’re annoying, y’know that?”
“Yeah, well. You’d hate me if I wasn’t. You like the challenge.”
“That’s true.”
You’d settle for listening to his breathing, and him the same for you, attempting to not think about what was to come next, and instead actually be in the moment, and what just was. An impossible feat, of course, but it wouldn’t change what had happened. And neither of you would want to, ever.
His eyes landed on the balaclava at the corner of the foot-end of the bed, flat and straight and almost like it was placed with the intent to taunt him. Remind him of what he had abandoned, to be with his Sergeant. His Sergeant, who was far too young, and naive for him. His Sergeant, who, unrealistically, wanted him just as bad as he wanted her.
#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x female reader#simon riley x female reader#simon riley smut#ghost smut
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How to Love
Eustass Kid/Trafalgar Law x F!Reader
Warnings: angst, fluff, semi-slow burn?, beginnings to chapters are hard </3
A/N: yeah here we are. just wanted to set a light on what the base plan is. Also, this takes place RIGHT after the prologue ends. hopefully, it's good for a first chapter.
~~~
Your heart beats harshly against your ribs as the events of only moments ago replay in your mind like a broken record. The images of the two most significant people in your world, your boyfriend and your best friend, betraying you, makes your head spin. It almost feels unreal, like a nightmare instead of reality.
But it wasn’t a dream. It was a harsh reality, a stark contrast to the life you thought you were living.
Instead of waking up next to your boyfriend, you find yourself in a disorienting place: your ex-best friend's ex-boyfriend's car. Random items you managed to grab scattered across the passenger side and on your lap. The smell of Eustass’s cologne, a scent that used to bring comfort, now only added to your heartbreak, still plaguing your nose.
“Thank you, Law. You really didn’t have to.” Despite being almost inaudible, Law still heard you like you were screaming. The tremble in your voice notifies him of his own inability to speak without breaking down.
“It’s fine. Thank you for telling me about (.....)-ya’s infidelity.” The fact you even told him in the first place shocked him. You had known (.....) for years, and she was your best friend, while you only had a class project with him. Given that it was a whole semester-long, you were willing to throw away a friendship just like that.
“You're a good guy, Law. You don’t deserve to be cheated on. Whether we’re friends or strangers. I would have told you regardless. No one deserves such heartbreak.” Law can see tears slipping down your cheeks out of the corner of his eyes. The fact that you're trying to stay strong after being the one to discover the affair is admirable in a sense. It could also be that you didn’t want him to see you cry. The latter sounds more plausible.
“I'm glad I didn’t delete your number. It would have been awkward if I had tried to catch you at work.” A small, sad chuckle left your lips. The tension in the car was too much, and you needed something to keep your mind distracted so you didn’t start wailing in front of Law.
“That would have been a scene I’m grateful we avoided. I like to keep my private life and work life separate.”
“I’m the same in a sense. I don’t tell my co-workers much except to recommend shows or movies. I know you're more of a book guy, but have you seen any shows or movies recently?”
“(.....)-ya made me watch a movie the other day. It was a horror movie.”
“Oh. Was it good?”
“No, it was terrible.” You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at Law's cold tone.
“Bad effects, or was it a storyline issue?”
“I could’ve made a better movie with a budget of two dollars.” Even though tears still fall from your eyes against your wishes, Law manages to make you laugh to ease the pain.
“Well, have you read any good books recently?”
“Haven’t had the time.” Law’s admission made your eyes furrow together. You know the medical field could be rough, but there wasn't enough time for him to read?
"The bookworm hasn't read recently? Are you sure you're the real Law?" A small smile tugs at the corner of Law’s lips as he listens to you talk, but even he can only hide the effects of heartbreak for so long.
Whether Law knew it or not, you could see tiny droplets of water gather in his eyes. Seeing him trying to hold it together made it just a bit harder to prevent yourself from breaking down. You grip the seat of his car and try to regulate your breathing. Clenching your teeth together, you lay your head on the window and look outside. The sudden tap of water hitting the glass makes you jump. You look around and watch as more water droplets start hitting the car.
“It’s raining. I thought it was supposed to be sunny all day?”
“I thought so, too.” The thick, tense silence rose once again, making it hard to breathe. If there had been enough room, you would have curled yourself up in a ball and cried. But you could do that when you get to...
“Where are we going?”
“My apartment. Just for now.”
“Ah, okay. Do you have any alcohol at your place?”
“Maybe some (.....)-ya left. Why?”
“So we can drink away our sadness.”
“I’m not much of a drinker.” A second silence covers the car.
“So I can drink away our sadness.”
“We’ll see when we get there.”
~~~
Your feet feel heavy as you walk into Law’s apartment. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside it. After the project was finished, you stopped coming over. Law’s busy schedule and your own just didn’t mix. Sometimes, you’d text him to check up on him and ask him how he was doing. He’d take hours or a day to respond, but you never held it against him. He always answered before it had been 48 hours, so it was okay with you.
Looking around his apartment, you see things that hadn’t been there before: some plants, many pictures on the wall, a TV, and some knickknacks you recognize that belong to (.....). The atmosphere was more welcoming than when you first visited Law’s apartment. If an apartment could feel like a hospital waiting room, then that’d be Law’s place before (.....) put her touch on it.
Placing your things near the couch, you take a deep breath as you rub your sternum to try and soothe the pain in your chest. All the pictures of Law and (.....) smiling happily nailed to the walls made your throat go dry. The images of your own apartment clouded your vision as you remembered your own photos with Eustass. Pictures of times when you did matching Halloween costumes, went to concerts together, relaxed at a beach together, or the two of you would just stay home. Every picture held a memory.
A once cherished memory is now tainted by the image of betrayal. No amount of effort can make that image disappear. Even your happiest memories become blurry when you hear (.....) calling out Eustass's name. It ignites a fiery rage inside you, and seeing (.....)'s face everywhere makes you clench your teeth. You feel like tearing apart every picture of Law and (.....) just to remove her face from your sight. Every bone in your body screams at you to lose control. To destroy everything that reminds you of Eustass and (.....) until it is nothing but microscopic pieces.
But you weren’t home. The home you once had was now lost to time. For now, your ‘home’ depends on whether Law will allow you to stay the night for tonight.
“You can stay the night on the couch for tonight if you want. I have blankets in the closet over there.” You let out an internal breath of relief from Law, answering your question without being asked.
“Thank you, Law. Can I make you dinner or something? Just so I can repay your kindness?” You watch Law lean against the kitchen counter before crossing his arms. His eyes staring out into space.
“I haven’t gone shopping yet this week, so I don’t have much.”
“I’m sure I can craft up something.”
“If you want, then go ahead.” The sound of a ringtone brings a silence to the both of you. You check your phone and see the screen’s black.
“I think it’s yours.” Pulling out his phone from his pocket, you watch Law look at the screen. A frown crosses his face immediately, letting you know the caller. Letting out a heavy sigh, you watch him answer the phone.
“What do you want (.....)-ya?” While you couldn’t understand what she was saying, the tone of her voice was frantic. You could hear sobs coming from the other line. Hearing them pissed you off to hell and back. Didn’t (.....) have a shred of decency? How dare she plead and beg after she committed such an act?
You had to sit on the couch to calm yourself down just so you wouldn’t start screaming at (.....) through the phone. As soon as your body relaxed on the couch, a wave of soreness came over you. It feels as if you’ve been working out for hours on end and only now stopped. Even your eyelids felt heavy as you feel tears starting to form and blur your vision. Trying to breathe normally falls short as you begin to hyperventilate. Your lungs burn as you can feel your throat constricting. It feels like you're swallowing your heart just to keep yourself quiet.
“I meant what I said (.....)-ya. I’m breaking up with you, and that’s final. You can come get your things tomorrow afternoon.” Hearing Law’s voice helped soothe a part of your aching soul. Hearing something other than your own ragged breathing helped calm down the streams of tears that were flowing down your face.
“I’m done talking with you (.....)-ya. Goodbye.” The sound of Law’s calls ending made you rub your face, trying to hide the tears that plagued you seconds ago.
“Your more civil than I would have been. I probably wouldn’t have even picked up her call.” Your voice cracked as you tried to let out a small laugh.
“She was asking me for a ride. Apparently, her and Eustass got in a fight, and he threw her out in the rain.” Scoffing in disbelief, you turn your head to look at Law, hoping he wouldn’t notice your puffy eyes.
“She asked you for a ride after cheating on you? Serves her right, getting thrown in the rain. Hope she gets a cold.” You can see Law’s body tremble and how he bites his lip. His eyes get glassy as he looks at the ceiling.
“Fucking a man.” Even from across the room, you can hear Law whispering to himself. You hated seeing him like this. Watching someone you care about hurt only adds to the pain you feel.
“Hey…do you wanna watch something to get our minds off them?”
“I should go back to work. They probably need me.” You let out a hum, hearing his words. A slight feeling of rejection crosses your mind, but you're quick to shake it off. The last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable. And if he was the type to work away his feelings, who were you to stop him?
“Well, drive safe. It sounds like the rain is hitting harder.” The sound of rain beating against the windows of Law’s apartment was finally acknowledged. Its beat almost matched Law’s own heartbeat as he thought about the phone call only minutes ago.
Hearing (.....)’s voice felt like nails on a chalkboard as she tried to explain what happened. The voice that once calmed his aching heart was now the reason it hurt. It was astonishing how fast his whole world flipped upside down. Earlier today, he couldn’t wait to come home and see (.....) and have her talk to him about her day. But now, instead of (.....) smiling at him, you were sitting on his couch with puffy eyes.
The way he could hear the tremble in your voice and how the light shined against the path of tears left on your face made his own wave of emotions try to surface. Even if he could tell you were trying hard to hold them back, he could see tears collect against your eyelashes. The sight had tears accumulating in his own eyes, making him look up at the ceiling to try and stop them. He didn’t need to show how bad (.....)’s betrayal has affected him. At least not in front of you.
Sure, you guys were going through the same thing together, but it wouldn’t help him or you if he let his own emotions out. It’d just be easier to shove them down, ignore them, and work until the pain left. He’s done it before, so he can do it again.
“Um, Law?” Looking back down, he sees you standing in front of him. You refuse to meet his eyes as you fiddle with the bottom of your shirt.
“Yeah?”
“Can I hug you?” Law felt his heart skip a beat hearing your request. A part of him told himself no that he’d break down the moment you wrapped your arms around him. Yet, the voice of someone he used to know told him something different.
“Okay.” As soon as the words left his lips, he felt your body smushed up against his. Your arms held him in a tight embrace as the sound of your hushed sniffles made Law finally cave. Wrapping his own arms around you, a sense of comfort filled him. The feeling of being cared for once again was nice yet terrifying. As soon as the feeling would come, it’d leave just as fast.
But for now, he’ll indulge in your hold.
~~~
The blanket that wrapped around you did little to replicate Law’s hug. Sure, you were warm, but it wasn’t the same. It reminded you of how alone you were. You had no family in this city, and your only friends were (.....) and Law, but you wouldn’t count him as an option due to the current predicament. It felt like you were running in circles with every idea that popped into your head. Always leading to a dead end and making you start all over again.
You couldn’t go back home. It’d take you around three to four hours to drive there! Plus, you didn’t leave on a good note with your parents when you left for college. And if their last words to you were anything to go by, they didn’t want you back. You shake your head at the thought of your parents.
“No. No need to drag myself down even more thinking about them.” Slithering your hand out of your blanket cocoon, you grab your phone that was on your right. The black screen stared at you as it showed your reflection. Eyes red from tears earlier and a cut lip from biting on it so hard earlier.
A ding echoes across the empty apartment as the phone's black screen soon turns on. The quick flash makes your eyes burn before squinting to try and get used to the brightness. Once adjusted, you see a message from Law hiding in your notification bar.
-“I need a favor from you.”
-“Sure, what ya need?”
-“(.....)-ya is supposed to be getting her things this morning. I want you to make sure she takes everything and leaves her key in the dish by the door.”
A frown skims across your face as the thought of seeing (.....)’s face makes your stomach churn. It’s only been a day, and you're already forced to see her face? At the same time, Law did allow you to stay the night last night. So, despite your distaste for seeing (.....), you agreed.
-“Will do. Can count on me :)”
-“Thanks.”
-“How’s working going so far?”
-“Fine.”
-“That's good”
The urge to ask him what his plans were with you after you did him this favor ate at your conscience as soon as you sent that last text. Law was really the only one whose place you felt safe enough to sleep at. And he’s the only person you have in the entire city. You didn’t have a license since a lot of things were always within walking distance, so you never had a reason to.
But now, you were on the complete other side of the city. What used to be a five-minute walk to your job now would take at least thirty minutes. You had no idea where anything was on this side of the city. Sure, you and Law would go grab an energy drink from the gas station when the two of you worked the night away on that old project, but that was two years ago. Who knows? Maybe that gas station doesn’t even exist anymore!
“Do you go here a lot?”
“To buy an energy drink and coffee every now and then.” The sound of small pebbles crunching under your and Law’s shoes goes unnoticed as you walk next to him.
“Okay, so every day then?” A laugh escapes your lips as Law rolls his eyes, yet a small smile plays against his lips.
“This gas station is the only place that sells my favorite one.”
“Which is?”
“Can’t tell you. What if you take it?” A smirk appears on his lips as he puts his hands in his pockets. Scoffing, you place your hand on your chest in fake offense.
“I can’t believe you’d think so lowly of me. Stealing your beloved drink? Only a monster could be so heartless!” Hearing Law let out a chuckle from your words made a heavy feeling of confidence run through your veins. He was always relatively quiet when in class, so it was nice to see him show emotion other than ‘bored.’
“How much farther? I’m dying to know the favorite drink of the future best doctor in the world.” A faint pink tints Law’s skin as he tries to look away from you, hoping you don’t see what your comment did to him.
“You really think so?” Despite trying to copy your playful tone, you can hear his self-doubt and hopefulness that your words were true.
“I know so! No one works harder than you! If anyone says otherwise, tell me and I’ll kick their ass.” Law could feel his palms grow sweaty, and his heart beat a little faster.
Sure, he’s gotten praise from his teacher, but hearing it come from someone he had just met and barely knew felt a little more sincere? Why, he didn’t know, but he won’t complain.
“Will do.”
KNOCK KNOCK
The sound of light knowing pulls you from your memories. Looking up at the clock, you see it’s nearly three pm. You sigh as you shed the multiple layers of blankets you were snuggled in. The rage and anger from yesterday are still strong in your system, making you clench your fists. You walk towards the door when you hear your fingers popping from the sheer force. Unlocking it, you take a deep breath before fully opening it.
In front of you stood a very unkempt (.....). Her hair was in a messy ponytail, accompanied by red eyes and a red face. Makeup from the night before was still applied to her skin as mascara streaked down her face. Your eyes even caught the barely covered hickeys and bite marks that shined through her concealer.
“(Y-Y/N)?...Why are you…Where’s Law?” Her pitiful voice made you squeeze the doorknob tighter to try and calm yourself.
“He’s at work. Not that it’s any of your business, but he was kind enough to let me spend the night.” Your eyes narrowed at her as you couldn’t help but glare daggers at the marks on her neck. Noticing your stare, (.....) moved her shoulder to cover her neck.
“I see…” You move to let her in and shut the door behind her. She lets out a shaky breath before beginning to take down the multiple pictures hanging along the wall. The sound of sniffles hits your ears as you watch her grab the frames with shaky hands. Listening to her hold back tears made you struggle to hold your own.
How could she have done this? Years of friendship only to throw it away for some dick? Did you mean so little to her? You’ve been with her for everything! Breakups, grandparents passing, getting in trouble together, anything and everything you’ve done for her! If she needed a kidney transplant, you would’ve volunteered right away!
Now, seeing how a friendship can easily be thrown away like trash after years made bitterness fill your heart. If your best friend and boyfriend could betray you without so much of a second thought, what does that say about the strangers all around you?
What does that say about you? Did you do something to deserve this? Was (.....) mad at you and thought fucking your lover would get back at you? There had to be a reason. To be an explanation for the horror you saw yesterday. Maybe after a drink or two after (.....) leaves will calm you down.
~~~
“You got everything?”
“Yeah.” Just as she was about to walk out the door, you remembered that she still hadn't given you the key.
“I need the apartment key.” Putting your hand out, you move your eyes to your hand and back at her.
“I-I don’t have it.” Furrowing your brows, you sigh.
“Don’t bullshit me. I’ve known you for years, and I know when you lie. Now give me the goddamn keys (.....).” You watch (.....) bite her lip before digging into her jacket pocket. The light shined off the key as she gently put it in your hands.
“Can you say goodbye to Bepo for me?” Confusion hit you like a train at her request.
“What the hell are-you know what? Fine. I’ll say bye.”
“Thanks.” Closing the door, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. After locking the door behind her, you placed her old key in the dish Law has near the door for his keys. (.....) request puzzled you as you tried to think of what she was talking about.
“What the hell is a Bepo?”
Just then, a light pitter-patter echos in the apartment. Your heart stops as the sound gets closer. There shouldn’t be anyone else in the apartment but you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you try to move quietly towards the kitchen to grab something to defend yourself.
“Meow!” You stop in your tracks upon hearing that noise. Embarrassment floods your body as you move even closer to the noise. Upon turning the corner, you see a white cat walking in your direction. A big white cat.
“Can’t believe I got spooked by a damn cat. Didn’t even know Law had a cat…a fatass one nonetheless.” Bending down, you move your hand to let the cat smell you. A smile appears on your face when it rubs against you.
“Hmm? What’s this?” Moving the fluff from his neck, you see a collar with a tag. Squinting your eyes, you finally see the name engraved on the tag.
“Ohhh…your Bepo! Well, aren’t you a cutie-pie?” With (.....) 's request finally making sense, you fight to actually fulfill it. With a sigh, you pick up Bepo and hold him gently.
“Let’s send your dad a selfie. I think he’ll appreciate it.” You go to the couch, pick up your phone, and find the right angle for the picture. When you find the right spot, you smile as Bepo rubs his head against your face.
“Say cheese!”
~~~
It’d been a long day at the hospital. It felt like nothing went right. Sure, he put in his all, but he had to tell people how they were diagnosed with a terminal illness or dealing with dumb co-workers. The only good thing today did for him was keep (.....) out of his head. But now that work was over, the nagging thoughts could finally bother him once more.
Sighing as he unlocked his apartment door, he was immediately hit with the smell of something cooking. Whatever it was, it smelled good, and he was happy that he didn’t have to make anything tonight. When he went to put his keys in the dish designated for them, he saw (.....)’s key lying in the middle. A wave of relief washed over him as he finished taking off his shoes and coat.
“Oh, Law, are you home?” Your voice rings in his ears as he walks further into his apartment. He spots you setting up the table while humming to yourself.
“Yeah, I’m back. Did you make something?”
“Well, you’ve been at work for sixteen hours, so obviously, you should be hungry! Not to mention that you deserved a home-cooked meal after working so hard.” Moving closer to the dinner table, he sees a plate of grilled fish along with a can of what looks to be sparkling water. The smell of his favorite food drew him closer, and he felt a sense of calm filled him. It’d be the second night in a row you made him dinner.
“Where did you get the fish? I don’t remember having any?”
“Oh, after (.....) took her stuff and left, I used GPS to find a store nearby, and there was an organic type of food store only two blocks away! So I went shopping and got things! Except for beverages, so I stopped by the gas station we used to go to and got sparkling water 'cause you don’t drink and no way you’d drink an energy boost at eight pm.” You continued talking, but it was lost on Law’s ears as he stared at the set-up table. The fact you put yourself to go grocery shopping and making him dinner made his sour mood from only moments ago lighten.
“Thank you.” As he moves to wash his hands in the sink, he sees his beloved cat following you and purring.
“I see you’ve met Bepo.” Upon speaking, the cat changed his attention to Law. Bepo begins to meow as he prances towards Law’s feet before rubbing against them. Leaning down, Law gives him a few pets before washing his hands.
“I didn’t even know you had a cat. Did you just get him?”
“No. I’ve had him for almost a year and a half. Why?” He watches you lift your eyebrows and look at Bepo before looking back at Law.
“What?”
“Law. Do you see how big that cat is?” Despite just washing his hands, Law picks up Bepo and holds him in his arms.
“What about it? He’s growing.”
“That cat is obese. He needs a diet.”
“Bepo is perfect the way he is.” You couldn’t help but giggle as you watched him hold Bepo protectively and away from you.
“You can be delusional all you want, but come eat before the food gets cold.” Turning your back, you begin to dish up after washing your hands. You can hear Law rewashing his own before sitting on the opposite side of the table.
As awkward as it may be, the presence of one another brings a slight calm to your new chaotic world.
~~~
TAGLIST: @yuki190 @stachelrose @loraleiii @axcel-lucci @st4rfevrr @rexspersonalhell @nanapurinpurin @elen-alambil @starlightkitten19 @bby-deerling @queenofthekill @chaes-tea @emmaiscool22 @shuujin @augustanna @likeliterallywtf @iraaiitz @cherrybomb5000 @lavenderkaye106 @jabean @wrennyx @jamaicaa-blakee @ashortdork @kat2tired @nerdgeekandeverysweet-blog @getsue @kaptain-rebekah @reigenmagnet @rebeccawinters @keenzinemugstudent @mydearlybeloathed @firefistussy @throne-inmyside @littleleelee @thepurpleempath @yuji4lierrr @whodissbitj @slut-for-buck i hope i got everyone and if i didn't im sorry. I tried writing everyone's names
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could you write some fluff for kimi antonelli?? you write him so well 😭😭 maybe when kimi's caught out in public by fans w his girlfriend being affectionate or something 🙏💗
Caught (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Reader)
Fandom: RPF/Formula 2/3
Requested: Clearly (thank you for being patient <3)
Warnings: none.
Pronouns: You/your
W.C. 1276
Summary: Secret relationships get revealed when celebrating the championship win.
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
~~(^Pinterest)
Kimi was a very private person. He just wasn’t very open with his personal life. Especially those who are closest to him. This includes you, his significant other.
You two had originally met in karting but officially met at the Italian Formula 4 Championship as competitors and teammates. However, certain circumstances led to you dropping out of the championship.
Kimi was the only person to stay in contact with you after the departure.
One thing led to another, you both stayed in contact, and you have been together for just under a year now.
Not that any of the fans would know! As said before, Kimi is a very private person, and that includes you. The only people who really know about your relationship are your respective families and the Prema team. The team found out when you suddenly came back into the garage with Kimi’s dad after leaving the sport almost six months prior. In all honesty, they saw it coming from a mile away.
You tried to come to the most recent race, the last race of the season. You really did, but it was not your fault that you were bedridden with the flu in Italy. Kimi still wanted to try his best at the last race because he wanted to show his skills to Prema and Mercedes, maybe to you too knowing how you were feeling unwell, despite already securing the championship.
After he finished up the podium celebrations from race 2, he sent you a text, letting you know he was cleaning up and would be doing media before he could call you. In all honesty, you were asleep, so you did not see it until nearly two hours later.
Instead of responding, you decided to send him a selfie of you laying in the bed with the text, “Just woke up, did I miss anything?”
On the track, Kimi stepped away to get some peace from the chaos that is media and fans after a season closer. He found a fairly desolate section as he opened his messages. He had been checking them periodically, hoping to see a response from you, but he never saw one. It never even showed as read, so he assumed you were asleep.
Just as he opens his messages, he sees the notification of a picture sent by you. He opens the picture without a second thought, laughing lightly at the face you made before he immediately sends one back with all of the updates he has. After sending a couple of funny pictures back and forth, you decided to just call him.
Little did he know, a couple of fans had walked up behind him, hoping to record his reaction to a picture they made him, and they watched him send you pictures and listened in as he talked to you. They had evidence that Kimi had a significant other; they just needed to find out who it was.
~
A week later, back in Italy, you and Kimi were finally able to celebrate his championship win. Despite insisting that you wanted to plan everything and arguing (shortly) with Kimi over it, you both decided that you would alternate things to do.
Kimi chose breakfast. It was only right that as the champion, he got to choose where you started. It was a simple breakfast at home that you both made together and it definitely did not end with you both covered in flour.
Then, Kimi had a couple of meetings, so you had to put a hold on the celebrations. This gave you time to think about what your plan was for the rest of the day as if you did not already know exactly what you were going to do.
So when lunch came, you chose Kimi’s favorite restaurant. Plus, he was finally able to eat it since the season was over, and you got special permission from his nutritionist. It was the best place to splurge after a win. An added bonus, it was fairly empty save for a few small groups. No one paid either of you any mind.
After lunch, Kimi chose to do a walk around your favorite park. It was a fairly desolate park, but it was one that you grew up going to all the time. Kimi knew it was a calming place for you.
Not to mention, there were swings. Who doesn’t love swings?
The swings were side by side, so as soon as you arrived at the park, you took off toward them, laughing as you left Kimi in your dust. Just as you were about to reach the swings, Kimi catches up. He picked you up and spun you around briefly before setting you back down.
You turned around in his arms as you held onto his biceps, smirking up at him. “You think you’ve won, don’t you?” He chuckled as he looked at you skeptically, but it changed immediately when you darted off into the open field. You shouted behind you, “You’ll need to catch me first!”
And once again, it was like you were on the track again. Living life like there was no tomorrow, having fun doing the most minuscule things, all the while with someone you really cared about. It was like the old Prema challenges you did with Kimi and Conrad. It made you miss the simpler things.
You were off in your own little world, casually going back and forth laughing and chasing after each other around the park. At one point, Kimi tackled you and you rolled around the grass before he stopped, leaning over you, “I caught you.”
Just as he was leaning down, that was when you heard it. The clicking of a camera. Turns out a group of fans saw you at the restaurant earlier and followed you to the park.
Your heads snapped toward the group, and instead of getting upset, Kimi calmly walked over to them to offer autographs and pictures.
“Are you two together?” One asked immediately.
“Weren’t they your F4 teammate?” The other asked.
“You two are cute together,” One gushed.
“How long have you been together, if you don’t mind us asking?” The last one asked.
“Yes, yes, thank you, and almost a year,” Kimi answered honestly with a small smile as he continued signing things. He took a couple of pictures with them before chucking as he continued his original thought, “We haven’t announced it yet, but we’re planning it.”
“I got a good shot,” The third fan exclaimed, pulling out their phone to show him the picture. It was of him leaning over you just before you noticed their presence. This was the picture that alerted you of the audience. “I can send it to you if you want to use it.”
“That would be great. I’ll credit you in it too,” He laughed, looking back at you, still sitting on the grass, hiding your face from the onlookers. Kimi sighed, turning back to the group to make a deal, “I’m going to head back to them, but send it to me, and we’ll post it tomorrow. Just don’t post any of the pictures please.”
He didn’t give them much time to reply before he walked back over to you and sat behind you. His body shielding you away from the rest of the people, your backs toward the group. Kimi leaned his head on your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your torso and showed you his phone.
The Instagram DM from the fan had already arrived, and he wanted you to see the picture. “I think this is the perfect way to announce us.”
~~~
Part 2 ->
~~~~~
© BAD268 2023. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
#andrea kimi antonelli x reader#andrea kimi antonelli#kimi antonelli x reader#kimi x reader#kimi antonelli#freca#formula 2 x reader#formula 3 x reader#formula regional#formula 2 imagine#f2 x reader#f3 x reader#f2 imagine#f3#f2#bad268#ship268#thing268
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Lookism men x wife!reader
characters included; Gun, Goo and Jake. reader is fem, nicknames(dear, sweetkins, princess etc) , characters are aged up, SFW, fluff fluff AND fluff.
A/N: after finishing lookism, i couldn't stay silent any longer, i HAD to write for them despite literally having no idea how to, i suppose that this is the first time i'm writing something properly, haha. Anyways, have fun reading <3
_____ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚_______
. . . . . ╰──╮Park JongGun╭──╯ . . . . .
Gun aged like a fine wine, you must admit. The day you laid your eyes on him for the first time ever still replayed in your mind, although you wouldn't really admit it. Witnessing with a new student while you were just chasing around your cat was the least thing you expected, and that attidute of his, you didn't expect that either. You were 16 at that time, young and full of life. Life was dready sometimes, that's a fact that no one could never get rid of including you, but who cares? We're here to have fun, and that's how you lived your life. When you gave Gun a slight smile along with a wave for the first time, he just replied with a single glance and turned away. He was odd, you thought. You were familiar with the most of the students in your school, and since he was a new face, you just wanted to greet him kindly. And how did that thug react? Exactly.
That's when that guy, who's name you learned later sucesfully inserted himself in the bad side of you, you could easily tell that he was a delinquent from the way you looked, but still you can't judge a book by its cover, but including that attitude with that presence? yeah, he definetely was a delinquent.
You just had no idea how the time melted so quick, the guy who used to be nothing but a delinquent in your eyes years ago was now behind you, arms roaming around your waist, stroking you as if you were a sculpture while you were just trying to cook dinner. ''Dear,'' you call out, a smile unconsciously appearing in your lips. ''Go take a shower first, you must be tired after work.''
He almost purrs while nibbling on the side of your neck, ''I am. So let me reduce my exhaustion.'' You could feel him inhaling your scent, lips contacting with your skin, leaving several soft kisses which caused you to giggle slightly. ''Alright, enough. Go shower, dinner's almost ready.'' You turn your head, leaning closer to him. knowing what you were up to, he moves his face to the side, his cheek waiting to feel your lips on it. Expecting to greet with his cheek, you greet with his lips instead, tasting the cigaratte at the same time. Damn it, you think. You fell for this move again. The chuckles coming from him while he makes his way to the bathroom only increases the heat of your cheeks. With a sigh, you continue to cook, a smile on your face.
. . . . . ╰──╮Goo Kim ╭──╯ . . . . .
''Princess!~'' cooed Goo, grinning with his full teeth, seeming utterly excited on whatever he was about to show you. ''Guess what just happened.''
''What?'' You answer, pair of eyes still glued to your phone, which instantly goes noticed by your husband. A frown already on his face, he leans his head to your phone, blocking you from the view of your phone. ''Look at me, not at the phone.'' He narrows his eyes and gives you that pout. You put your phone aside, now your full attention on your needy husband. Resting his head on your lap, he gives you a cheeky smile.
''Guess what day tomorrow is!''
''September 11th?'' You ask, one eyebrow slightly raising as you played dumb.
''Yes it is but, that wasn't the answer i was looking for.'' His lips quivers, before he tilts his head ''Don't tell me that you forgot, Y/N~'' He whines, which was when you decide that it was the time to drop the mask. A chuckle could be heard from you as you gaze down at him.
"Silly. what do you think that i was searching at my phone?''
''Wha- hey, you're just trying to change the topic now!''
''No im not, dumbass. I was searching for places to spend your anniversary.''
''Stop trying to change the to- Oh.'' Hearing those words causes the pout replace with a smile which easily reached his ears. ''Aww, sweetkins!'' In a blink of an eye, Goo was now straddling your lap, throwing his arms around your neck while he buried your head on his chest, rubbing your head on his chest as he hugged you. ''I knew that you didn't forget about it!''
'' 'Course i didn't forget, how could i- Goo get the hell away from me i cant breathe.''
''Oh.'' From his facial expression you clarify that he forgot how heavy and muscular he was for a moment. Now, you were the one on top of him, sitting on his laps as he hugged you, grinning up at you through your chest. ''Better now?''Your hand extends to his blond hand on its own as you smile back. ''Better.''
. . . . . ╰──╮ Jake Kim ╭──╯ . . . . .
You were gazing at the big deal street with your husband, head resting on his shoulder, his hand slowly stroking your waist, keeping you close as the cheerful talks of the people mixed with each other on the background while you both enjoyed each other's company in silence ''How odd.'' You break the silence first, recalling memories. ''Years passed, yet, this street still looks the same.'' Glancing up towards Jake, your smile widened at the sight of the smile displaying on your beloved's lips.
His irises' attention was now on you instead of the street as he smirked. ''How odd.'' He repeated your sentence, ''Years passed, yet, you're still beautiful as you were before.'' lips slightly parting away, you couldn't even reply to that sudden compliment, but your face sure did, which earned a loud laugh from your husband as he brought you closer, while you frowned, eyes on your shoes, attempting to hide your red cheeks despite already being aware that it wouldn't work.
''Damn you romancist.''
#lookism#gun park#park jonggun#kim joongoo#goo kim#jake kim#jake kim x reader#gun park x reader#park jonggun x reader#kim joongoo x reader#goo kim x reader#i feel like i made jakes part too short tbh..#sorry loves </3#lookism fic#let me know your guys opinion#negative or positive. doesnt matter#i might continue writing for them but eehh~
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(4) Cheater: Dick Grayson x reader
part 1
part 2
part 3
Warnings: heavy angsts, heatbreak, crush and burn, girl fighting.
***
“Shit” was a light description of the situation they were currently in.
Enraged Sienna looking at terrified Y/N and Dick in between them.
There was no denying that those two women were more than ready to fight tooth and nail for the man they both wanted in their lives and – if need arise – draw blood.
In any other circumstances, and perhaps a couple years earlier, his ego would be over the roof from the fact that two beautiful girls were displaying their jealousy over him, but he was not that playboy-attitude-like guy anymore.
He fucked up hard and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Taking Y/N and going all the way with her was not a mistake and he was not going to apologize or leave her now.
Now, he ended up torn between the need to protect Y/N and keeping with the mission that was in fact supposed to protect Y/N while simultaneously putting her in harm’s way.
Impossible situation.
“Sienna-“ he tried to say while still holding Y/N tight, covering her naked form from the other girl’s eyes.
“YOU BITCH!!” Sienna yelled and without thinking, in a blink of an eye threw herself at Y/N, who squealed in surprise and fleeing Dick’s embrace grabbed the first piece of clothing from the floor to cover herself and started running away.
That “first piece of clothing” was Dick’s shirt. And as you may suspect, it did nothing to ease things up.
A man can really do nothing when two women are fighting. So despite all his skills and abilities, all his attitude and way with words Dick was rooted to the floor, watching the fight unravel before his eyes.
“Girls can we just – “
“STAY OUT OF THIS!” both Y/N and sienna yelled at him, showing a surprising amount of solidarity.
“Stop it!” not giving a shit about their opinion he joined the fight.
If someone were to watch this situation from outside perspective it would be hilarious. Straight out of comedy.
A girl with messed hair in a guy’s stolen shirt, jumping and ducking on the furniture.
Another girl with a fury in her eyes, throwing said furniture out of her way with a surprising amount of strength.
And a bare chested guy, miraculously and swiftly escaping everything flying his direction, relegated to the background, dealing with the aftermath of his own behavior.
There was no denying that most of this was on him. He seduced Y/N purposefully. And now she was paying for this, forced to repel attack of his ex-girlfriend.
Y/N might have been fast and agile, but Sienna was strong and driven by fury. So when it started to look like the escape was just withing reach, and the first girl reached the entrance door, almost, almost getting to safety (cause the chances of getting attacked in public, on the street were fortunately lower)—
“Oh hell no!”
Y/N’s fingers slipped on the handle and she felt herself being yanked back and on the floor.
And from then the things started going downhill in an accelerated speed.
“You slept with him you bitch!?” Sienna slapped y/n’s face
“He slept with me!” Y/n did not pull her punches, doing the same thing to Sienna, emphasizing the fact that it was all a conscious choice.
“He has a girlfriend! Me!!!”
“Clearly not anymore!”
“Slut!”
“Witch!”
“You were just an entertainment for him!”
“He choose me over you!”
“Because I was gone!”
“Because he doesn’t love you!”
“You piece of shit!”
Sienna straddled Y/N and started hitting her face, stomach and everywhere else she could reach, causing little groans and squeals to escape the attacked girl’s mouth.
“Stop it!” Dick yelled rushing to help his love, who was in an immeasurably worse situation.
“Get the hell off me!”
In a blink of an eye the things changed and now it was Sienna with her back pinned to the floor with Y/N on top, both girls going head on each other, focused on defeating the opponent.
“He’s mine!”
“Fuck you!”
“If he didn’t pay you for the service I’ll be more than happy to do so just to get you out of our hair” Sienna hissed vindictively with a smirk, throwing Y/N off her game.
“Did you just call me-?”
“A prostitute, yes.”
“AH!”
The hit, aimed at the nose reached its destination perfectly and blood started running down.
“Did you just-?”
“You can shove your money up your ass!”
“You’re a journalist, you clearly need them more than me.”
“Are you after man’s money Sienna?”
“Huh. Me? You resort to certain measures of getting paid by genteman!”
“At least I’m good at it!”
“Is that what he told you?” Sienna smirked again
“He might have mentioned how good I feel and taste.” Y/N retorted with a viciousness in her eyes.
Now the clash between girls were getting more verbal than physical.
“I already told – it’s because I was gone. You were a substitute.”
“Or maybe I was simply the only choice from the beginning?”
“The hell you talking about?”
At this point, Y/N could hardly recognize herself. The girl who was so insistent of sticking to her own moral rules about not going behind another’s girl back was gone. Just because Dick touched her and made love to her.
Fucking hypocrite, but all that was left was a woman filled with lust, desire and deeply rooted love for a man, and there was no way she was letting go easily. Even if that meant throwing a bucket of slop on another person. Even if that meant living in self-hatred till the end of days.
Dick was hers.
“We were together long before he started going out with you.” She hissed, feeling a surge of power in her veins upon seeing the pain in Sienna’s eyes.
“Wha-what?”
“Y/N! Don’t do this!” Dick finally got his tongue back, but choosing the worst moment to speak up.
“And why shouldn’t I?” the girl spun towards him with fire in her eyes “you said it yourself, you want me, you love me…” she mocked theatrically “so now It’s your chance to prove it. Show me those wasn’t just words Dick. Aver that you want to be with me. Choose.”
“Dick…?” Sienna stuttered, the role switching, leaving her in the position of victim while Y/N turned into the oppressor. “Is- is it true?”
“Yeah, come on Dick, tell her. Tell her how we were touching and kissing at that Wayne gala while she was oblivious to our dirty games too occupied by Jason.”
“Y/N…”
“Coward.” She hissed to cover up for the way her heart started to hurt and tears wanted to brim in her eyes.
“Please don’t -“ he took a step closer to her but she moved away from his reach.
Seemed like Nightwing was winning against Dick Grayson.
And it gave Sienna back her power.
“See?” she grinned with a self-complacency. “you were just a distraction. A plaything to fill in for me. Cause this is who he wants. Me. Not you.” She stepped closer to Dick, wrapping arms on his side and snuggling into his chest.
Legitimate girlfriend
“But—”
“You can go now, little girl.” Sienna laughed “oh, and this-“ she reached to her pocket and retrieved a one dollar bank note “that’s for your trouble and the great performance. For a moment I almost believed it was all real for you.”
“Dick—” Y/N stuttered, her bottom lip trembling.
She felt betrayed, used, fooled, but deep inside – hoping, wishing and praying for him to do something.
But while she broke all her rules for him, he seemed to not care, standing there without a single word, with her arm wrapped over Sienna waist. Not a hint of self-reflection in his entire posture.
Mission comes first.
“ I think you should-“
“Fuck you both. Have a happy life together. Liar and gold-digger.” She hissed grabbing her pants and coat and shutting the door on her way out, before any of them could see how broken she was.
Left with nothing, including her dignity and integrity.
Poor naïve, gullible little girl.
If only she looked into his eyes.
This was not how it was supposed to go.
@miraculous-panic @fullbelieverheart @xlatinaaxx @ietss @arfrona
#dick grayson x reader#nightwing x reader#dick grayson smut#nightwing smut#dick grayson x oc#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson x you#dick grayson fanfiction#dick grayson#nightwing x y/n#nightwing x oc#nightwing x you#dc dick grayson#dc smut#smut#dick grayson angst#nightwing angst
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Dos and Don’ts of H Styles
A/N: this story was literally born out of the wifi incident happening to me. It was a weird experience lol but of course it inspired me to write a story around it. Basically you used to work for Harry as a PA and your life was hell. You bump into him in the present but before it unfolds we need to know what happened in the past.
Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4
——————————————
I watch as Winnie types into her phone the number of the guy who’d just hit on her.
“And that’s with a y?” She looks up at him with doe eyes.
“Yea,” he falls for it. He was cute, and she worked a lot I didn’t blame her for taking who she could get. His accent also helped. “What’re you doin’ now?”
“Well,” her eyes slide to me. “Hanging with my girlfriend here.”
He nods at me and I smile, holding up the almost empty glass. “We were just about done for the night though.”
“We were?” Winnie checks in with me.
“Mhm,” I give her an encouraging nod.
Both Winnie and I were employed by musician-turned-actor Oretta Smith. Winnie was her nanny—or childcare companion as she called it, and I worked as Oretta’s executive assistant. It was full-time and demanding as hell but ever since Oretta had her first child a couple months back I’d gotten a lot more breathing room as she minimized her public life and stayed close to home.
This long weekend Oretta was staying with her in-laws and asked us to take it off. I’d already requested the weekend off knowing we were in London but being off at the same time as Winnie was impossible so we’d gone out to celebrate and let loose—9pm and only 2 drinks in, both of us had already started talking about the comfort of our beds. Until flirty dude came up to Winnie.
“What do you say?” Winnie’s new date asks her.
“Aw shucks alright,” Winnie flashes her beautiful smile and hops off the stool. I don’t even see her drop the bills onto the table as she hugs me goodbye and leaves until it’s too late. She’d covered for both of us. Well I’d get her back next time.
I finish the rest of my drink, eyes flicking to the reruns of tonight’s soccer game. This wasn’t the fanciest bar—it was quite homely compared to the ones Winnie and I often found ourselves at. But it was one I used to go to when I worked in London just over a year ago. Being back in the city, despite all the awful memories, pulled me towards the nostalgic comfort of it.
I remember the many dates with my now-ex, the random nights I’d actually get off, and drown myself in drink to forget about my awful employer. Or the birthday and milestone celebrations—especially the ones I started to miss near the end.
I consider walking the few streets over to my old flat. Coincidentally the job I’d gotten wasn’t far from home. The upside was that it made dealing with “emergency” texts from my employer a lot quicker but the downside was it grouped all the traumas I experienced in this beautiful city to a few blocks. I didn’t miss it.
I cut my memory lane rabbit-hole short and decide it was time to order an Uber and get out of here; I had an early train to catch tomorrow.
The bars on my phone flicker up and down as I open the app and continue to refresh it over and over. But my signal remains unstable.
“Stupid phone,” I mutter. I had to update my provider while I was here asap.
“‘Scuse me?” I wave down someone serving drinks. “Have you got wifi here?”
“Yep we do!” She smiles. “Name’s The Violinist and the password’s capital p….”
Her voice grows far away as my blood runs cold and I stare at the list of available wifi networks. I feel myself nod a thank you when she stops talking and she leaves taking the password with her while I’m stuck staring.
My networks:
🔗H’s iPhone
I want to duck down and run away, not spend another second around anything to do with that era of my life. But I also want to hunt him down and show him how much better I was doing after him, despite.
The second instinct wins. Kind of.
I don’t hide away. I scan the dimly lit room and try to spot the familiar head of hair but it’s on the third try that I spot him. And it’s probably because his hair is barely an inch long.
He must’ve cut it recently, I’m surprised. Him without his hair was like Harry Potter without his scar.
The feelings are instantaneous though. The loathing and the need to cry. My heart continues to race as I burn a hole into the side of his head.
He was the devil incarnate and I had thought about him for a second too long just now. And now here he was. What the fuck was a guy like him doing here?
I remember the awful times; the casually cruelty and the late nights he would make me work. His constant criticism. The way my life fell apart because of him. The way I could wring his neck with very little incentive at any given moment.
He had turned my whole life upside down. He ruined me.
Harry Styles wasn’t the sweetheart everyone painted him out to be.
And yet, a flash of a feeling, a fleeting memory I try to keep locked away pushes to the front of my mind.
“Fuck no,” I tell myself. There was no room for fondness when it came to the devil.
About 2 years ago:
I straighten out the blazer, wondering if I should be chic and roll the sleeves up a bit or just keep them down. My reflection shows a nervous mousy girl that’s trying too hard. I throw my hair into a ponytail instead and feel a more like myself. Just as the elevator doors ding open.
I’m in the penthouse suite I would be working out of for the next however long; it was my first day on the job and I was still sorting out my nervous to excited ratio.
After looking for months, I’d landed a PA gig for up-and-coming rockstar Harry Styles. It was a dream come true and everyone was ecstatic for me, most of all my boyfriend who’d helped me land the role.
My boyfriend, Grayson, was a personal trainer to a lot of big names and he’d been keeping his ear to the ground for me. We met a few years ago at the gym of course, I’d still been a student and he worked part-time at the student gym. Back then he was still working to get a better client list.
We’d clicked pretty quickly and Grayson, who was anything but shy, asked me out. Soon after he was telling me he had feelings for me and I’d felt them echo back the same. He was my biggest supporter and when I told him I wanted to take this career path seriously he’d been the first to show me what steps to take to get there.
My true dream was to become a publicist and work with celebrities, but fresh out of post-grad everyone told me I’d need to dive head first and get my hands dirty. And I’d have to do that by finding a PA role for a publicist or an industry person.
“Y/n?” My name interrupts my thoughts. It comes from a disembodied head peeking out from a doorway. “You are y/n right?”
“Yes!” I hurry over. “Nice to meet you.”
“Yes. I’m Mr. Styles’ exec assistant, I’m only here for the next,” he looks down at his watch. “Half hour perhaps? So let’s get you sorted before I head out.”
“Oh okay. Sure,” my ears ring, I was going to be alone on my first day. I didn’t even know he had an executive assistant. What was the difference between him and me? What if I screw up and this guy was part of the fallout plan? Shit. “Is Mr. Styles in?”
“Not at the moment, he’ll be in before noon. He has a few appointments this morning. Typically you’d be going with him but he left before you arrived so…next time. Make sure you get any paperwork he received from the appointments and file them in here-“ he points to a room with a filing cabinet. Like an actual cabinet. This was a tight ship. “You sound American. Are you American?”
“Yep,” I debate whether to tell him I stayed after doing my degree here but decide to keep the yapping to a minimum.
I continue following the EA—who I should get the name of, as he points out rooms and overlaps it with info about Mr. Styles’ schedule and routines. A lot of info. My brain felt like it was barely holding on.
I think about the man I was now working for, the one who came into the interview for a brief 10 minutes. Surely that laid-back guy wasn’t the anal mystery man I was getting all these instructions for.
The interview itself had gone pretty smoothly apart from the fact that I nervous-laughed a few times too many. I had gone silent when The Harry Styles had walked into the office. He’d sat beside me at the round table, slouching slightly and flashing me a reassuring smile—I had felt my shoulders dip down immediately.
“So it’s y/n right? I’m pronouncing that correctly?” He’d said in his perfectly charming accent.
“Yes, it’s so nice to meet you officially.” I had to tamp down every urge to gush over him. I was a professional. I was zen.
“So y/n,” he says my name so casually and yet I feel myself lean closer to hear him say it again. “I’ve seen a couple of you come in here for the PA role. What makes you different then?”
Think think, just be calm and think!
“Well I’m a very passionate person so I put my all into everything I do. That would include this job, and in turn you’d benefit by getting peace of mind knowing I’m tackling whatever behind the scenes items that need to get done to get you where you need to go.”
“Well said,” he says with a smile that says he knew he was very good looking. “Now trust is a big factor in this relationship.”
As he talks I forget his manager is even in this room. I’m swept up in the hazy green of his eyes.
“We’ve done the background checks and all that—right?” He looks to his manager who was interviewing me and gets a nod. “But how can you reassure me. My staff gets approached by the media daily for any info on me. What’s to say you don’t sell out.”
“I would never,” I didn’t even think of that being an option. “Confidentiality and trust is the biggest pillar of this role and I take it very seriously. You’re like, the biggest celeb of the last year but I know you’re also a person and I wouldn’t betray that. On a person level.”
“So even if you had a really bad day, say I had gotten you to do some impossible tasks. And you’re heading out head full of steam and you get approached by a reporter. £5k for an exclusive.”
I shake my head. “As tempting as it would be, professional ethics reign over any of that.”
“I believe you y/n,” his eyes flicker down to my file. “Good references. We’ll be in touch.”
Now my eyes roam around the small room I’m meant to work out of. It’s the size of 1.5 supply closets with half the walls filled with shelves and cabinets. There’s a small desk but I wasn’t sure how often I’d be sitting at it. All the PAs I’d ever connected with always complained about the amount of time you spend on your feet. That’s why I’d opted to buy myself runners when I got the job.
“Any questions—mind you I have 1 minute for them before I’m off? There’s a suit I have to sort out.” The EA turns to me when we circle back to my office/supply closet.
“Oh,” a million race through my mind. Nothing that would fit in a minute. “I um, I guess I didn’t catch your name?”
He seems surprised at that, and then he laughs. “Oh you’re a doll. This place is gonna eat you alive. I’m Riley and tip for you—don’t be so eager to please. Do your job. Do it well. But you’re not here to be liked or make friends alright?”
He laughs again when he looks at my face. He hands me an iphone and tells me it’s programmed with everything and everyone I needed, then waves goodbye leaving me in a confused spot.
I wasn’t naïve, I knew what working in this industry was like but I was could swear I’d landed a good gig with Harry Styles. And meeting the man himself in the interview had confirmed it.
Maybe Riley was just jaded by too many long hours.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. A text from Grayson: good luck on your first day babe. let me know how it goes.
I only have time to heart it when I hear the elevator open in the foyer. I rush out just for Harry to brush past me and his manager following, chattering away about something.
I follow from behind and watch as he heads to the kitchen. Riley had shown me what he laid out on the island and how I should do it going forward. And like two magnets Harry reaches for the exact bottle Riley mentioned. He downs the smoothie and then collapses onto the barstool.
“But don’t forget what she was saying about the single needing to be global. Sure your fanbase would love it but would the people who hate you have to admit it’s good.”
“I make it for my fans not for the wankers that hate me,” Harry says and his voice is rich like caramel.
“You know what we mean.” His manager suddenly turns directly to me. “Can you contact the studio and let them know to push Harry’s 1pm to 3?”
“Oh,” I didn’t even know they knew I was here. They gave no acknowledgement until now. “Of course. Um, could I just get the paperwork from this morning too? The appoint-“
“Yep,” his manager unhauls the items in his hands. The whole time Harry stares out the window. I’m handed a stack of papers and I carry them to the office.
My hands are shaking when I put them down and I feel a lump in my throat. What was wrong with me? Why was I reacting this way?
I find the studio contact in the phone Riley gave me and let them know. They’re suspicious at first but accept the reschedule. I leave the paperwork for later, figuring I might be needed now.
But the rest of the morning I’m unacknowledged save by a few requests from Harry’s manager. I spend some time looking through the calender in the phone that’s pre-programmed with Harry’s entire life. It’s packed except for this Sunday. I wonder if it was actually free or just hidden from me since it was my one day off.
“You’ve got a passport haven’t you…?” It’s the first time Harry’s spoken to me. He’s changed into a hoodie and shorts, his manager is nowhere to be seen, and I’ve just bitten into a granola bar—the first thing I’d had since my morning coffee.
“Y/n.” I try to swallow the bite whole but at the last minute push it to the side to try to answer. “Erm yeah. I haven’t got it on me though.”
“Right. Y/n. Start carrying it. I’ll need you with me on Thursday I have a morning meeting in Léon and since Riley’s going to be sorting out something for my New York trip in a couple weeks he can’t make it.”
“Yes. I will. Do you need me to prepare anything else for the trip? I’m not sure if you’ve packed or-“
“It’s just a meeting.” He cuts me off. He pulls out his phone, dismissing me.
I swallow the knot in my throat once more.
I go with Harry to the studio since his manager is meeting us there. Alone in the car with him, the silence feels stuffy.
“I never got the opportunity to say thank you by the way,” I try to open up a conversation. All he was doing was looking out the window surely I wasn’t interrupting anything.
“What?” He stares right through me.
“Um, I’m just saying thank you. For the job.”
He nods.
I stay silent for the rest of the ride.
The studio is quiet, which makes sense when I think about it but upon entering an actual room I change my mind. The noise assaults my ears and I nearly jump at the volume but my hand gripping the doorknob keeps me in place.
People swarm around Harry.
“I need my tablet and my notebook,” Harry says amidst the small chaos.
What the fucks was he talking about. “Sorry?”
“My tablet and notebook,” His face darkens and so does my mood. Nobody told me! But maybe I should’ve asked oh my god.
“I don’t have it,” I say lamely.
“Any time I’m in the studio I need those two things. You need to get me my tablet and my notebook.” He speaks like a robot.
“I-I’ll head back,” I get my bag again. “Tablet and notebook, is there anything else?”
He looks angrier than I thought. He sticks his hands in his pocket, shuffles something in his hand before handing it over. “You may as well get lunch. Keep that card on you for business costs.”
I open my mouth to ask what he might want but he turns away as soon as I take the card and I’ve already fucked up royally so I decide to wing it.
In the car I consider googling what Harry Styles ate for lunch and instead will the ever living shit out of myself not to cry.
I scroll through the phone, debating if calling Riley for help would be a mistake. Going through every app for help I realize the countless notes in the app.
Morning Routines, says one. It lists things I should do when the mornings were spent at home, in studio, abroad, in a hotel, or if I walk into a “morning-after” morning. Jeez.
Another has checklists for what to do when travelling, how-to for routine appointments I should be booking, routine people I should be calling.
Why didn’t I look at this before. Right there is one called Studio Days and in bold it says what to bring.
I was an idiot. A big fat idiot.
I try my luck and search lunch. Sure enough a note with possible lunch places in cities across the world pops up.
It was a How-to guide for Mr. Styles.
Whoever put this shit together was an angel. I owed them my life.
I decide to be proactive, sorting lunch out to be delivered to the studio while the car drops me off. I run to the room Riley had said was the home studio. Sure enough I spot the tablet and a few notebooks, I grab all 3. I also grab the charger and ignore the bag of weed chilling on the arm of the chair.
What to do when he’s too drunk / What to do for Interview Days / What to do when he won’t answer the door or the phone / Day-off checklist / Social media checklist.
The dos and don’ts go on and on as I scroll through on the ride back. This was going to be my homework and by the end of the week I was gonna be a genius.
I swipe away and check if I had missed any folders containing precious info. Just the trash.
Out of curiosity I open it and there’s only 1 sitting inside: the donts of working for Harry Styles
I open it:
-don’t let one nice day fool you into forgetting he’s an arse and your employer
-don’t expect any gratitude from a narcissist
-don’t fall for his charm
-don’t shit where you sleep. no matter how tempting
-when he pisses you off which he will, don’t mouth off. what happens next is worse than being fired. which he won’t do because he’s the devil and he will want to keep you around after treating you like shite
-don’t think he’s chill. he’s anything but. follow the checklists and the rules.
-don’t have a life. actually this is a CAN’T. YOU CAN’T HAVE A LIFE WORKING FOR THE DEVIL. LEAVE AS QUICKLY AS YOU CAN UNLESS YOU HATE YOURSELF
I close the phone immediately, my heart thumping in my chest like a steady bass in the background of a song. What the hell did I get myself into.
***
It’s 8pm by the time I head back with Harry. The car is once again silent.
I had spent the day reviewing emails and the checklists, fielding calls and texts. His personal chef had texted to tell me dinner was prepared and in the oven to be re-heated so I figure that’s the last thing I’d do before I head home.
I’d eaten lunch standing while watching Harry sing background vocals to the album he was working on. It was hard to deny how intoxicating it was to see such a talented man work his magic. And it really was magical seeing how a song got put together.
That is until he’d sent me to get tea for the room and I’d nearly spilled half of it on myself getting enough back to the room. I was getting an electric kettle next.
I made a new note then: Reminders to do so you don’t get fired
The notes were my saving grace.
“My head is killing me,” Harry groans.
What to carry at all times: #4 paracetamol and #2 water
Checkmarked after going to the pharmacy while he was in the studio. I’d created an emergency makeup bag with essentials I could throw in my tote. I considered it a win today.
I hand the painkillers to him and he seems surprised. He replaces them with his phone.
“I don’t want to look at a screen for the rest of the night.”
“Okay.” I leave his phone beside me and try not to think of everything on it.
It vibrates a few minutes later and I leave it, not wanting to invade his privacy but he glances at me.
“Well?”
“Oh!” I lift it but it’s locked.
“1021.”
I type it in. “Um, Jeff wants to know if you’re still at the studio-“
“Reply to him.”
I do as I’m told.
“Um Mitch wants to know if you’re-“
“If it’s scheduling questions you can probably answer them without bothering me about it.”
I look up and he’s tipped his head back, eyes closed. Right. Of course I could.
I go through his schedule and find his studio time on Friday and relay it to Mitch. I respond to another text from someone asking if he was going to a gala in a couple months—his schedule said he was in LA so no. I wondered if I would also be in LA in a couple months. I wonder what Grayson would think.
Grayson, I’d had a short call with him a few hours ago and tried not to cry hearing his voice. It felt like home when the whole day felt so foreign.
I stare at the final text. The contact photo is the side profile of a gorgeous woman.
“Kimberly wants to know if you want um,” I feel my cheeks burn. “If you’re inviting her in tonight because she has a party she really wants you to go to.”
“I can’t be arsed for a party I feel like shite.” Harry says, eyes still closed. “Tell her to be at mine after 10.”
“Ok.” I type the words with a racing heart. I remember the morning-after checklist for this exact scenario. It wasn’t going to be weird soon I guess.
I heat up dinner for Harry while he showers and leave letting him know what time I’d be in tomorrow. He doesn’t even say goodbye.
I get home around the time I reckon Kimberly gets to Harry’s. The first thing I do when I see Grayson is shed a waterfall and he holds my exhausted body tight against him.
“Are you sure you want to keep doing this?” He whispers to me in bed after a shower and sandwich—I couldn’t stomach anything more.
“I need this job Gray. It’s gotta get better.”
“I reckon but it’s a steep learning curve,” he says as he traces the curve of my nose.
“I know,” I snuggle closer to him and yawn. I don’t know what he says next as I tip into sleep.
***
If the notes app manual with the dos and donts of being Harry Styles’ PA was a physical thing, imagine me swallowing it.
Every spare second I had—which I didn’t get a lot of, I was reading that thing. My fingers searched tirelessly before every scheduled and unscheduled event. And yet, I’d fucked up so many times.
It was Saturday and I was looking forward to my day off.
He had been hot and cold all week but ever since getting back from Léon he’d been nicer and I’d actually been getting home before 8.
Maybe things were going well, despite the fact that the learning curve was like climbing mount everest.
“What’s my morning look like?” Harry asks. I was sitting at his kitchen table trying to book a dinner for him next week with a friend that was in town. A friend who also happened to be big back where I was from—I hoped to catch a glimpse of her myself.
I glance up and look back down just as quickly. After a week of seeing Harry in all sorts of undress I should be used to it, but my face still flushes. Today he stands at the table in running shorts.
“Pulling it up,” I say and scan his schedule even though I had it memorized. “You’ve got a meeting at the bank in about 40 minutes and lunch with Michael.”
“Can’t my accountant take the bank meeting?”
“She’ll be there. She’s meeting you downstairs to discuss the meeting on the ride over. You need to sign off on some stuff.”
“Stuff,” Harry repeats.
I look at him, careful to train my eyes on his face. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed at my lack of elaboration or just teasing me.
“Documents.” I correct, still unable to tell.
He look amused. “Great. Documents. I thought I’d be signing body parts.”
Was he joking? He was joking…I think.
“Right. No, we’re saving that for the tattoo shop booked for 6.”
He raises his brows, a slow smile spreading across his face and like the sun coasting over the horizon he looks brighter and prettier.
“That’s mad, that people would get a random man’s signature tattooed on them isn’t it?”
It’s inevitable really, my eyes skim over his torso brimming with tattoos. He notices and laughs. It’s a wonderful laugh.
“I meant they don’t really know me.”
“They admire you and it’s a piece of you,” I shrug. “At least it’s not a portrait of your face.”
“I’ve seen that floating around the internet actually.”
“Really?!” Now that was mad. I pull it up on the laptop and cover my mouth.
“I know.” He hangs his head and we laugh. God, things were finally getting better. This was the kind of relationship I thought Harry would have with his PA.
I scroll through comments and it’s impossible to wipe the smile off my face. I’ve considered myself a fan for a lot of artists but tattooing their face…that was another level of commitment I couldn’t do.
I look back to Harry who has grown quiet. His eyes are on me.
“What happened to your blazers?”
I’d decided to wear a skirt today, it was my lucky skirt—the one I had been wearing when I got the call that the job was mine. It being the last work day of the week I thought it might make me feel good.
I’d paired it with a tank top and a comfy cardigan. I’d finally felt like myself compared to all the button ups and blazers I’d been parading in. But apparently Harry had noticed the wardrobe difference. Shocker because he barely acknowledged me this week.
“I thought I’d dress for a Saturday?” It comes out meeker than I’d hoped. Ugh. “I hope that’s alright. If you want me more professional-“
“That’s alright,” his eyes roam down my body and I feel hot all over. Oh god, I shouldn’t have worn this. “It looks good.”
“Thanks,” I cross my cardigan over my body and try to get back to work but he doesn’t let it end there.
“Did you make that yourself?”
He continues to surprise me, “I did actually, is it obvious?”
“Yeah there’s a big hole down the back,” he teases. I know he is because his eyes are smiling, light.
“Damnit,” I relax a little. He was only interested in the sweater. “I’d finished it late it looked okay in the dark.”
“I have a friend, she made one of those for me. With the patches. Very comfortable.” He’s weirdly intense while looking at me and I feel like squirming again.
“It is. Very stretchy.” My vocabulary seems to shrink.
He leans over to touch the fabric and I feel like a cactus has been stabbed into my neck, I feel hot and prickly. Jeez, I had to chill out. My employer was just interested in my sweater. Super interested. Maybe I should just give him the damn thing. It would definitely fit him.
“Wool,” he smiles. He’s basically perched above me and I think I’m going to have a heart attack. I went from complaining about the fact that he acted like I wasn’t in any room he was in to not even being able to hold a conversation when he did.
I’m caught looking up into his unfairly gorgeous eyes and he looks at me like I’m the only person in the room. Which I was in this instance, but still.
I’m saved by a loud voice coming out of the elevator.
“Harry you car is waiting downstairs.”
Like a book slammed shut, his expression retreats until all that’s left is the cover page with no summary. The friendly Harry from before is gone.
“Oi Harry! I had to come all the way upstairs because I’ve been sitting in that stupid car waiting! Do you not pick up your phone?”
“Lee,” Harry says as he walks across his living room. “If you can’t reach me you call my PA I’ve told you a million times.”
“And I’ve told you a million times not to keep me waiting. We have a lot to cover before we get to this meeting and I need every minute. God why are you shirtless go put on something appropriate!”
Harry miraculously does as he’s told—given I had already laid out an outfit for him. He’s ready in no time. His accountant, Lee? Simply smiles at me and goes back to typing on her phone while we wait.
“Why is that so wrinkled?” Lee judges Harry who walks out in a completely different outfit.
“I don’t have time to change again do I?” Harry bristles.
Lee looks over at me and I’m not sure if she’s accusing me of something or looking for support.
“Mr. Styles I did leave an outfit out for the m-“
“I don’t wear silk.” He cuts me off and walks out ahead. Lee shrugs my way and follows him. I trail behind, feeling worse than ever.
For a miserable hour and a half I sit in one of the most uncomfortable chairs of my life, organizing Harry’s life while I wait for his meeting to end. As hard as I try to concentrate, I keep agonizing over what I might have done wrong to flick his switch. I swear things were going better. And I know I’ve seen him in silk before. Why the hell else would it be in his closet? Why couldn’t I go a single day without screwing up?
I finally spot Harry walking out of the office and gather my things quickly to meet him. I trail behind as we walk down the hall into the lobby, Lee is nowhere to be seen.
A gasp catches my attention and suddenly a girl younger than me rushes up to Harry.
“Oh my…Harry Styles?”
Harry’s face morphs briefly into annoyance, his gaze flicking my way, before pasting on a smile for the girl.
What to do when a fan approaches H (in the wrong moment): be the bad guy, divert, get Harry to wherever he needs to go to and do it quick.
“Hi,” Harry smiles sweetly at her and the friendliness throws me off guard. But this was unexpected and I should get him away…I think.
“Oh my god could I get a picture? My mate is never going to believe this. She loves you so much, so do I-“
“We really have to be going.” I say and the girl looks at me, surprised to find me there. I look around and spot and older woman watching us. Must be her mum.
“Could I just get a picture?” She glances between us.
“I don’t think Mr-“
“It’s fine,” Harry hands me her phone. “Get a photo of us.”
Just another layer of humiliation to add to the rest of the day. The rest of the week. God was I just awful at reading cues?
I snap a couple and then we’re walking free.
He doesn’t say anything. The car ride to his lunch date is spent in awkward fucking silence and I hate myself more with every second I spend in it.
When the car stops at his destination he holds his hand up when I go to open the door for him.
“Listen -what's your name again?" He asks.
Shame and humiliation drip over me like blood on Carrie’s prom night. I repeat it for him. Just like I had daily since I was hired.
“Right. Y/n. You came highly recommended from a friend so I trust you know how to do this job. This job, is to keep my life organized and keep me on track. Make sure I'm not distracted or side tracked by anyone. Including you. It’s not to be my publicist or my fashion advisor or my personal security. Let's stick to the job description okay?"
His words land bitterly to my ears. Not personal. Just a job. Just a job. Just a fucking job. And yet it was starting to feel like my whole life.
“Yes of course.” I hear myself mumble. And like the big clown I had to be, I push open the door and get out so he can too. He walks to the restaurant without a goodbye and I crawl into the car, heading back to his place. Tears burn my eyes but I refuse to let them out. Refuse to admit just how badly this job hurt.
***
“I’m not doing this on purpose,” I hiss into the phone. “You know I’d be there right now if I could!”
“Babe I get it’s your job but you haven’t come to anything in over a month since you started your job!”
“That’s unfair,” I cup my hand over my mouth. “Gray c’mon I’m going to be there just late.”
“That’s what you said last weekend.”
Last weekend, one of our good friends invited a few friends for dinner in their new place and Greyson had had to go alone. Everyone had messaged me to say I was missed but Gray had been stony, pretended to be asleep when I got home and then given me the silent treatment until I wore him down the next day. It was exhausting begging for affection.
“It’s my job Grey I don’t know what else to tell you.”
“Me neither, you know my parents want us over for weekend roast some time but I’ve been avoiding giving them a date because I don’t want you to stand them up.”
“I-“ a shadow shifts in the corner of my eyes and I look up. Harry stands in the doorway. “I have to go we’ll talk later.”
“Whatever y/n,” Grey hangs up and my chest squeezes with all the hurt I was causing. But he saw the state I’d been in since I started this job a month ago and he knows this is just my life right now. Why was he suddenly acting like it was brand new information?
“Are you done your personal call?” Harry asks. He hovers in the doorway, I’d never actually seen him in this little office space. Then again, if he did step in there wouldn’t be much room for either of us to walk around each other.
“Sorry,” I hate myself for apologizing. Here and everywhere else in my life. But I have no other choice. “Can I do anything for you?”
“When are you heading out tonight?” He asks. His eyes glued to my face. I know my eyes are teary and I try to blink it away.
“Um, soon. In an hour or so,” blink blink blink. “Did you need anything from me before then?”
“Yes, I have a friend coming over tonight. Can you order us something for dinner. Something light. And get a bottle to chill for us—champagne. And can you push Monday’s cleaning service to tomorrow afternoon?”
“Consider it done.” I tell him, hoping he would just leave me alone in the dark here.
“Do you have evening plans?” He continues. Why did he never ignore me when I wanted him to!?
“Kind of yeah,” I try to keep it short. “A birthday.”
It was Grayson’s sister’s birthday. She had invited us to a local fave called The Violinist and of course I would only make it to the dessert course if I was lucky. These days, making it to dinner at all was a luxury. I lived off of sparkling water, leftovers, and coffee.
“Well best to finish up what you’re doing so you can head out.”
He leaves and I’m annoyed. Why couldn’t he be nice and just tell me to leave after doing what he asked. But here I sit folding fucking pamphlets for some idiotic pledge he had signed on for. Fuck me.
I’m miserable by the time I leave. I’d managed to finish everything in a half hour so I’d touched up my makeup and changed into a simple dress I had kept in the office closet on Riley’s suggestion.
“A simple black number that could be used for any last minute event.” He’d said. Unfortunately that now counted for personal events too.
“G’night Mr. Styles.” I call out as I walk to the foyer, just so he knows I was going out earlier than I said.
“G’night,” he answers surprisingly. He always ignored me but tonight he sits on the couch. He rises to see me off but I notice him pause and take in my outfit. “Fun night?”
“I hope so.” I unfold the blazer in my hand, suddenly wanting to disappear with his gaze on me.
His long legs walk to me and he takes the blazer I’m fidgeting with from my hands. He actually holds it open and if I wasn’t this exhausted my jaw would definitely be on the floor.
“Oh. Thank you,” I slip it on and turn to face him. As if helping me put it on wasn’t surprising enough, he proceeds to untuck my hair from the blazer.
“That’s alright,” he says in a low seductive tone. “You look nice. Are you dressed up for someone?”
The question is dangerous, toeing a line I’m not sure I want to erase. I try to ease things with a joke. “The birthday girl I guess.”
“A friend?”
“My fiancé’s younger sister.”
Was it just me, or does he bristle when I mentioned my fiancé?
“I didn’t know you were engaged,” he mumbles, glancing down at my hand. I wore a number of rings and I guess the small diamond Grayson had proposed with back when it was the most he could afford, blended in.
“Yeah, nearly a year now.”
“Wow,” he crosses his arms. “Have a date set?”
“Not exactly,” I smooth my hair behind my ears. “We’re thinking next year but we’ve just been so busy with out schedules-“
“What does he do?”
“He’s a personal trainer,” I say proudly.
“Oh,” Harry tilts his head back. “Oh. Now I understand. Now I get the connection. My mate Liam put in a good word for you when I needed a new PA, he said he knew you through his personal trainer. He never mentioned how.”
“I see,” I’d have to thank Liam next time I saw him. He’d been one of Grayson’s first big clients and had become a close friend to us. I’d have to thank him with dinner. If I got any nights off, that is.
“That’s who you were talking to on your personal call?” He asks, his hand tracing my shoulder seam down to my elbow. My heart races from the ghost of his touch.
“Erm yeah, sorry again. I had to take it since it was time sensitive.”
“Best to get going then.”
I take a step backwards and then rush to the elevator all at once. Once I’m on and the doors start to close I turn and catch a glimpse of his handsome face watching me go.
I let out a breath. That was weirdly heavy. And kind of intimate. But weird. That was weird.
I wonder briefly who he was having over tonight. If it was Kimberly, who I’d had the misfortune of meeting in her panties one morning. Or his other “friend” some brunette named Maya or Amaya something. I’d had the misfortune of meeting her when I dropped off a late package to Harry one evening. All were awkward encounters.
I shake away the thoughts and am grateful when Harry’s driver waves me down on the sidewalk. I guess Harry had told him to take me to where I needed to go. My heart is warmed ever so slightly, although I do accidentally nap on the 15 minute drive over.
I make it for the end of dinner and Gray looks relieved to see me even though his eyes hold a hint of something unspoken. I try to ignore it tonight.
“Oh you look beautiful!” I hug the birthday girl, and we sway from side to side. I used to see her a lot before she moved away for uni. “When did you stop being a baby, Josie Duran let me get a look at you.”
“Josefina tell her what you did for your 21st.” Gray says.
“Can you let it go!?” Josie scowls.
“What?” I whisper.
“Mom will kill you,” Gray warns.
“That’s why she doesn’t have to know,” Josie bites.
“Hey,” I put my hands up between the two. “No fighting with the birthday girl. Anyway. Josie, you look beautiful, I’m so sorry I’m late but it’s so good to be here.”
“Aw no don’t worry about it,” she goes in for another quick hug. “I’m just happy you got to come. Gray said the bloke you work for is a nightmare. Tell us do we know him?”
“Ah,” I wasn’t really supposed to talk about him according to my nda. “I dunno if you would. Anyway I’m going to try to steal some of Gray’s leftovers until dessert comes.”
I sit beside Gray where the seat had been left empty and smile up at him, hoping for forgiveness. He sighs and kisses my forehead, pushing his plate towards me.
“Go ahead, have you eaten?”
I had a banana and a yoghurt for lunch but I don’t tell him, just making a vague answer for yes and scarfing down what’s left.
“She got a tattoo,” he says in my ear later as the restaurant finishes singing happy birthday and a cake with sparklers is set down. He’d gotten tipsy and I can tell because he wants to talk about his upsets.
“She’s a grown woman Gray,” I know he was protective and a little traditional—that’s where half of their sibling fights originated, but I always told him he had to let loose a little. “She’s allowed to get it. If I remember you have some tattoos of your own.”
“It’s different y/n.”
“She’s getting older faster than we can keep up with huh?” I lean my head against Gray’s shoulder and let out a big sigh. It feels good, sitting with him here surrounded by friends. It had been a while.
Gray leans his head against mine and doesn’t answer. We watch her friends take pictures like proud parents, watching her cut and then distribute the cake. I should help, but I just could not lift a finger.
“Hey y/n, is that your phone going off?” Josie’s friend beside me points to my facedown phone.
“Is it?” I sit up, my heart doing a number in my chest.
I pick it up, 2 missed calls from Harry and 3 texts. Fuck.
“Leave it,” Gray must be looking over my shoulder. “You’ve gone home now just screw him.”
“I can’t,” I didn’t want Gray getting mad—I know he was kinda drunk and he could make a scene like this. I didn’t want to ruin Josie’s celebration. But I couldn’t ignore this. This is the first time Harry’s messaged me after I’ve gone home. “I’ll take it outside.”
On my way to the door I open the messages. A picture of a bucket filled with ice. A row of question marks. And then: call me
What? What was so urgent about a bucket of-
Oh.
Fuck.
I thought I did everything but I hadn’t. I’d filled the bucket with ice and meant to ask the Italian restaurant around the corner to deliver a bottle like they usually did for Harry but I hadn’t gotten to that part.
I feel like I’m going to vomit any dinner I just had.
I crouch down. Do I call him? Do I pretend I didn’t see this until too late? No. I had to face up. I fucked up.
Deep breaths. Deep breaths.
I call with shaking hands but it rings and rings and goes straight to voicemail. I try again.
I had to get back, get him the champagne. Fix my mistake.
“Y/N,” Grayson’s suddenly outside. “Aren’t you coming back in?”
“I can’t. I…” how do I explain this to my fiancé without it sounding minor as hell. “I forgot to mail some important documents and I need to get back-“
“It’s Saturday fucking night.”
“Yeah but-“
“And guess what?! Tomorrow’s Sunday! The mail’s going nowhere! Fuck that wanker and come back in.”
Gray holds out his arms and I want to go back in but I need to fix this mistake.
I grasp his hand and he smiles, misunderstanding why I held it, “Gray I have to go-“
He pulls his hand away, a sneer on his face. It hurts when he looks at me that way, like I betrayed him.
“I showed up! I celebrated, I got here Gray I just have to-“
“You were barely here! Do you know how upset she was when I said you couldn’t make it?”
“Well why did you say that!?” I demand. “I told you I was only going to be late!”
“I can’t trust that!” He shouts and I try to pull his arm so he quiets but he doesn’t seem to care there are people around. “Your time is all his, every single fucking second! And when you’re not there your brain is going a million bajillion times over about him and his life. Even when you’re with me! What the fuck! What’s up with that!?”
“Gray I’m sorry look I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I swear. I’ll make it up to your sister I-“
“I don’t care y/n,” Gray slips his arm out of my grasp. “Do whatever you want. Nothing I say matters anymore anyway right?”
“Gray,” tears streak my face as I watch the man I love go back inside without another look my way.
Fuck Harry.
I try to call him again but voicemail. Again. Fuck!
What to do when you make a mistake: admit to it—Harry appreciates accountability. FIX IT! As much as you can. FIX YOUR MISTAKES OR FACE CONSEQUENCES.
An alert that my uber was here pings my phone—I take the ride to the restaurant and grab an already chilled bottle. I book it to Harry’s building and ride the elevator up, every floor causing a further dip in my stomach.
The doors open to a dimly lit space. There’s music playing, something jazzy, and it smells like…vanilla? Vanilla roses?
“Hol-hold on,” I hear Harry chuckle. A head pops up from the other side of the sofa.
“Y/n?” He looks as confused as I am.
Oh my god, I realize as a giggle comes from the floor. They were on the fucking floor of the living room? They were on the floor of the living room f…what the fuck did I walk into?
“Just back with this,” I squeak, holding up the bottle.
“Harry did you invite someone else?” The voice asks from below with another laugh. He sighs, disappearing again. I hear a very distinct wet noise before he pops back up again, I look at the doors of the elevator trying even harder not to give in to the panic attack that was looking more and more tempting.
“What are you doing here?” Harry approaches me with a softened voice. Wearing a robe. A silk robe. I knew he wore silk.
“You called—the bottle I’m sorry it totally slipped my mind I-“
“I told you to call me?”
“I did, you didn’t pick up! I thought I should swing by-“
“I thought you had a party?” His forehead scrunches.
“I…” the pieces come together. Did I take this too seriously because Harry didn’t even look angry? Great. I was an idiot and proving to Harry I had no life. “It ended. Early. I…I wanted to fix my mistake and bring the bottle.”
He takes it from my hand, still confused. “Y/N.”
I wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. And lord, in this climate with him in just a robe hearing my name on his lips is not okay. I was going to pass out.
“I’ll leave.” I go back to the elevator but he starts talking again.
“I asked you to call me so I could ask-“ he stops when I turn back around to listen. He closes the gap between us again with a sigh, and I don’t realize my face was still streaked with tears. It was probably more noticeable in the elevator light. He takes his finger and swipes across my cheek, his brows furrowing.
“Sorry,” I swipe my cheek to remove the remaining evidence. “I’ll leave you to it.”
He clears his throat and takes a step back. “Thank you for coming back.”
I nod.
“If you’re going to leave early next time, make sure you finish everything I’ve asked you to do. Don’t skip out like this again.”
“Yes yeah of course,” I stutter, relieved to fit back into our usual roles. For a second there, I thought Harry was going to be kind. And that would have been way worse.
“Good night Y/N. See you Monday.”
“Good night Mr. Styles.”
Gray’s not home by the time I get back. I wake the next morning to his side untouched.
So I do the only thing that felt good these days, I curl up into a ball and cry.
***
Taglist - leave me a message if you’d like to join it :)
#harry styles fic#writingsfromhome#harry styles x reader#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#asks#harry styles angst#harry styles series#musician!harry#dos and donts#ahhh#i didn’t edit this too much it all kind of came out at once#so ignore any errors#hope this is fun to read#it was fun to write
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Jason Todd x Reader | On again-off again relationship hcs
A/N: lisTen. i'm incredibly sleep deprived so this is gonna be very messy and i have a whole ass book to read before my class at 9am and i probably won't sleep tonight so let me have this. let me have my low-key volatile relationship with jason todd where we love each other so deeply that we can't even stand to be around each other sometimes because we frustrate the fuck out of each other but we also can't live without each other. as the great lorde once said: let me live that fantasy.
W/C: 2500+ (help me i basically just outlined a whole story </3)
likes, rbs and comments are all very much appreciated <3
SOME NSFW UNDER THE CUT! ALSO BONUS BATFAMILY GETTING INVOLVED IN THE DRAMA AT THE END BECAUSE ,, FUNNY!!
you and jason have known each other for three years, and you've been together for around two years and two months of that time, if damian's calculations are correct. it's electric and heated and frantic and loving and frustrating and soft and infuriating, all at the same time. you just can't seem to stay away from each other. it's a 'cat and mouse' kind of situation, one where you just can't seem to stop chasing each other despite how ridiculously awful it always seems to turn out in the end. the longest you've managed to really hold it together is seven months, but you can't stay away for more than a month at a time.
you make out like teenagers. make love almost every night. laugh at his dumb jokes or funny comments. patch up any mild injuries he comes home with. tickle each other until you're on the floor breathless, surrendering and begging him to show you mercy. you spend lazy mornings together in bed. bicker and shit-talk each other over breakfast. cuddle on the couch late at night. it's perfect in theory, and he's admittedly an amazing boyfriend. he's caring and attentive and he loves to love you and be loved. but your tempers get the better of both of you.
fights break out because you're both kind of impulsive and hot-headed. neither of you can help your snark or cutting comebacks sometimes. you run your mouths about something – anything, and you run the risk of everything breaking down within the hour. you know his weak spots, know how to push his buttons when he's really pushing yours; and as you know his, he knows yours just as well. you'd never go as far as to bring up anything too personal or out of pocket, but you still know just how to get on each others nerves perfectly. how to manually detonate the ticking time bomb before it blows up on its own accord.
you frustrate the fuck out of each other, and he has a tendency to just walk out of your apartment mid-argument. he puts the suit on, tells you he'd rather be out on the streets getting his ass handed to him by a gang of drunks dressed up as teletubbies and then have bane rush in and pummel him into the concrete than have to deal with you when you're feeling particularly prickly, and you tell him to go fuck himself on his way out. the battle to get the last word in commences, and you've often found yourself yelling at him from your apartment window whilst he yells up at you from the street below because you both just refuse to give up the fight.
most times he comes back, but sometimes he doesn't. when it hits 8am and you haven't heard him rummaging through your kitchen cupboards or refrigerator; he still hasn't crawled back into your bed, kissed your forehead softly and buried his face into the crook of your neck, you shrug your shoulders, tell yourself everything's going to be okay. and then sob violently into your pillow because it's over. he's gone. but with jason, it's never really over. by some weird twist of fate (love, but jason prefers to call it coincidence, although it's anything BUT that) you always end up finding your way back to each other. you break up and even DATE other people but it's never serious and it just never feels the same because for some strange reason whenever you're apart you both miss the chaos of each other and even though you can literally be the worst when you're together, you would rather be together and be the worst than be without each other.
jason turns up at your door at 2AM when he hears you might be seeing someone new after a breakup the month before, demanding to be let in and when you relent (pretty quickly) and open the door he immediately has you against the wall, desperately grabbing at your hips and kissing you like there's no tomorrow whilst mumbling that no one could ever compare to him so don't even think about trying to replace him.
he has you naked and spread out on the bed in ten minutes tops, his tongue swirling against your clit in all the right places, big hands gripping on to your thighs. he grins like a fucking maniac when he makes you cum in record time, just under a minute if he was counting correctly. you cum on his face again, his fingers, his thigh and eventually his cock, until you're laid on his chest with his cum leaking out of you, breathless and all fucked out, mumbling 'i love you'. he says it back, reminds you again that no one could ever be him, and you know he's right. you knew this would happen and truthfully you were desperate to have him back which is maybe, possibly why you made a point to mention to roy that you were seeing someone else because you just knew he'd tell jason.
on the flip side, you send jason a risky picture of yourself in a brand new lingerie set when you find out he's going on a date with someone. you immediately apologise and claim it to be accidental and that it was meant for someone else. you watch your phone blow up with calls and texts from jason, listen to each and every angry-horny-frustrated-infatuated voicemail he leaves and grin the whole time because you know you have him wrapped around your finger, as much as he denies it.
you turn your phone off, unlock your door and wait patiently by the open window until you hear angry footsteps coming from below, stomping up the stairs of your apartment building. he busts through your door and demands that you tell him what the fuck you think you're playing at. you feign innocence and tell him that it was a genuine mistake but he knows you're lying and he has you on the couch, straddling his lap almost immediately. your pyjamas have been torn off, giving him an up-close, in-person view of the pretty new set from the picture earlier. the view is much nicer when it's not on a tiny phone screen; pictures do the real thing no justice. his phone vibrates while you're trailing kisses down his jaw to his neck, and you tell him he should take the call because it's probably his date wondering where the hell he is but he just turns his phone off and tosses it to the side. why the hell would he go on some shitty, awkward first date when he could have you?
the reunion is always sweet. there's always that honeymoon period with him no matter how many times you've broken up– upped and left each other following an argument. when it's good, it's really good. but you just can't seem to escape the inevitable. eventually one of you pushes it too far and the whole thing blows up in your faces. he walks out, you cry yourself to sleep and then you find some way to worm your way back into the others life, depending on who picked the fight that left everything broken once again. neither of you are exactly sure why you fight like cat and dog. you're perfect for each other on paper; you understand each other on a far deeper and more intellectual level than anyone ever could. you get on like a house on fire on your good days (which are admittedly most days), but somehow the bad days always seem to outweigh the good. he once made a joke that it's because you love him so much that you can't live with him, but you also can't live without him. he was probably right.
one night, after a particularly nasty breakup the week before, he stumbles into your apartment clutching at his side, barely able to breathe. he's been so uncaring lately, letting himself get caught up in his own head and his emotions regarding you and your relationship and it's lead to him taking a few more blows than he normally would. tonight he paid the price, took what he thinks might be the final hit, and he needed to see you one last time just in case things don't work out for him. you don't even have the chance to ask him what he's doing in your apartment before he's collapsing on to your living room floor, blood dripping through his fingers and on to your carpet. you drop to your knees next to him and whisper his name so softly, inspecting the wound and feeling guilty when he hisses in pain when your fingers brush against it. it's deep, and yes you've patched him up before –you know how to stitch up cuts but you're not a medical professional and this is a serious wound to his abdomen. there's not much you can do about it alone. you're already crying but before you can start freaking out and trying to fix things he takes your face in his hands, his grip weak, and tells you very sincerely that he loves you deeply, and he's sorry for all of the fights he's caused and all of the times he walked out on you and that it's always been you and it always will be.
he's in and out or consciousness and you're begging him to wake up, to be okay; telling him that you love him and you can't lose him. you try your best to stop the bleeding, pressing towels and old shirts against the wound but it just won't stop. so you call alfred from jason's phone, explain to him what's going on and soon enough you're playing host to a batfamily gathering in your tiny living room. dick quite literally has to drag you away from his body kicking and screaming while bruce and alfred assess the situation. they decide to take him back to the manor, and of course you follow them. you spend days by his side, waiting for him to wake up. alfred has to take you by the elbow and walk you away from him to eat dinner or shower or sleep in jason's old room.
it's just so typical that you're not there when he wakes up. you're sleeping, bundled up in his bed sheets when alfred comes to wake you. you literally leap out of bed, almost tripping over your own feet as you run into the room jason's in. that stupid grin, although strained, spreads across his lips as soon as he sees you through half-shut eyes. you're crying already, rushing to his side and resting your head on his chest, soaking his shirt with your tears. he chuckles at your reaction, teases you for being so worried about him as if he hasn't already kicked death in the dick before, and he mocks you lightheartedly for admitting that you can't live without him (it was the last thing he heard before he lost consciousness). you giggle through your tears, letting it slide because when you look up at him, he's crying too.
it literally takes jason almost dying on your living room floor for you to both realise how much you actually mean to each other, and that having a connection and a love like this isn't something that you can and should just walk away from every couple of weeks. you both decide to start working on things; learning how to control your temper and when the appropriate time to shut the fuck up would be. how to talk things through maturely, without the yelling and constant breakups. of course, you still bicker and shit talk each other. and sometimes one of you will take it too far. jason will glare at you for a moment until you give him an awkward grin and mumble 'oops', and you'll give him the silent treatment for fifteen minutes (which would feel like HELL to him) until he makes you laugh. you're happier this way, knowing that it doesn't have to be that difficult and you can just be. you're not constantly waiting for something to go wrong or for one of you to fuck up, that anxiety has dissipated and you enjoy feeling calm and content with him.
+ bonus: batfamily getting in on the drama
the first time jason stormed into the batcave at 3am, fists balled and eyes red and puffy, bruce was immensely concerned. he sat jason down, put on his best dad™️ voice and asked 'what's wrong?'. jason told him it was nothing, just a little relationship trouble and that bruce didn't have to worry it, he just needed to get away and he thought the batcave would be the perfect place to brood for a few hours before going back home. the second time jason stormed in, he was still concerned for his emotional state, but not all that surprised to see him. bruce left him alone, let jason sit next to him, listened to him curse under his breath. the seventh time? bruce sat at his desk, jason beside him, listening to him ramble on and on about what had happened and how he took it too far again but it's not entirely his fault because you pushed his buttons but he shouldn't have said that to you because he loves you but you just get on his nerves sometimes. bruce nods occasionally, murmurs 'uh-huh' just to prove to jason that he is listening. kind of. sort of. not.
dick receives frustrated, angry texts at ungodly hours in the morning from jason telling him that the relationship is over. jason isn't sure why he vents to dick. it's definitely not because dick gives good advice, jason doesn't even open the texts dick sends back full of agony-aunt type solutions. one night, he receives one of these texts from jason, telling him that you're done with him and he can't ever go back to your apartment. all he can do the next day when he sees you and jason walk into the manor, grinning at each other like you're the sun, moon and stars with his arm wrapped around your waist, is shrug his shoulders.
listen, if damian is going to be forced to sit through the weekly couples quarrel at the manor, he's at least going to make some sort of profit from it. it starts out as a secret, damian makes everyone place bets (with real cash) on how long it'll take you and jason to piss each other off when you come over for dinner. tim wins the first time, and is less than amused when he only receives half of what everyone put into the bet, damian citing that he's the organiser so he gets half of the profit. eventually, he branches out. he starts taking money for bets on how long it'll take for a fight to break out, what you'll be fighting about, and which one of you will leave the dinner table first. everyone joins in (even alfred), and when you find out about damian's little scheme, even you can't help but slide over a $20 bill with a declaration that it'll take jason 45 minutes to say something that'll have you glaring him down. you win that bet, because you know him better than anyone else, and you split the profits with jason. everyone thinks this is unfair, and you're both promptly excluded from participating in the betting.
#jason todd#jason todd x reader#red hood#red hood x reader#jason todd x you#red hood x you#dc comics#dc x reader#jason todd smut#jason todd hc#jason todd headcanon#batfamily x reader#batfamily#batfamily headcanons#batfamily hc
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WINTERS SACRED GIFT TO YOU, MY LOVE - CHOI SOOBIN - NSFW
Soobin x fem!reader
Genre: Smut
warning list: Dom!Soobin, kinda Brat!reader, long term boyfriend Soobin, fingering (f!receiving), marking, chocking, degradation; (slut), praise, pet names; (baby, darling, my love), smut with plot, have to stay quiet, family in the house, breeding ( though I wouldn’t say it’s a kink in this situation, it’s just kinda happening in the plot), not proofread, lmk if I missed anything
Word count: 4,600
Summary: Whist receiving a surprise visit from her long term boyfriend, Soobin, in her family home, they end up getting risky and frisky upstairs in her room.
Authors note: Happy birthday Soobin!! I have returned from my eternal slumber to make sure I wrote something for the occasion. Sorry if it isn’t as good as normal my loves <3
Sheets of white, sharp flakes clung to the barrier between cool frosted winters and the fluffy comfort of your home. The weather in England was hardly ever snowy, it was more likely to rain. Throughout your whole 23 years of living, you had seen snow maybe 7 times, most winters were just cool and wet. Despite how uncommon it is, small speckles of frost attempted to cover the ground in a blanket of snow, attempted being the key word. The light rain from this morning had yet to glaze over into ice, meaning the second the white drops of snow made contact with the ground they simply melted, joining the growing puddles across the streets.
Inside however, the rooms shone with the warm glow of small fairy lights, strung neatly almost anywhere you could get them. Golden and red tinsel increased the warm toasty feeling among the house in a similar way to the small bulbs of light scattered among the tinsel. This year the home was decorated with assistance from both of your siblings, and your mum, and it actually felt like the holiday season, for the first time in your adult life. You've had 3 Christmases in the new house, none had felt like this so far. The chilly weather slipped through any entrance it could find, the house looked beautiful, and you all managed to get some form of break from work this December.
Currently, your mum was cooking your dinner downstairs, while upstairs your little sister was tasked with keeping you warm. However, instead of acting on simple thoughts and holding you to keep you warm, she sat cross legged on the floor gazing up at you, trying to devise a genius plan to keep you warm. You had already begged your Mum to turn up the heating, and even turned the dial up a few times, just for your mum to realise and turn it back down.
Unfortunately, none of your requests were accepted, all because everyone else felt completely content with the temperature. At least, that's what they say, you reckon this was all just a massive ploy to get you to accept their hugs more. You weren't one for accepting your family's attention you see, but they LOVED physical touch and affection. In this situation, you had no choice but to wait for your sister to either give up at keeping you warm or come up with an idea.
"Youngsook, sis, please come up with an idea" you begged, a pout showing on your face as you shivered to yourself slightly. Your whines didn't stop the flow of horrible ideas through her brain, but it did seem to encourage her to give up and hug you. Moving to join you in the bed, she sighed, seemingly defeated by the lack of ideas swirling through her head. However, just as a victory flashed before you, it was taken away, she stoped her movement and ran to the bathroom.
"YOUNGSOOK!" You shouted desperately to her, the soft whine in your voice slipping into your tone once again. She poked her head around the door frame, to look at you, and spoke "Give me a second you big baby!", then she rummaged through what sounds like the bathroom cupboard until she found whatever it was, she was looking for. She held something behind her back as she walked into the room "'look away" she said, laughing to herself. The worry in your head informed you that you shouldn't, but you were far too cold to fight anymore, so with that you closed your eyes. The sound of her fumbling around near the side of the bed, chuckling to herself and muttering "'I'm a genius" before something snuck under the cover. It should have worried you, but you've known her forever so you wouldn't be scared by such innocently simple acts.
She spoke up "Open your eyes now" she couldn't stop laughing and it made you giggle back at her. You turned to her and quirked an eyebrow "'okay, what is your genius plan?", she laughed at you, and suddenly a mildly loud noise could be heard, accompanied by a strange warmth radiating underneath the blanket. You moved your hand towards the heat, and laughed at her "Are you using the hairdryer to warm me up?". She nodded and smiled widely "'it's working, isn't it?!" She asked, very content with herself. You nodded and closed your eyes, happy to finally feel warm.
Youngsook leant against the bed staring at you goofily, the look across her face only being one of deep amusement that this was actually working. You were pulled out of your daze by the sound of the door opening and your older brother, MinSook speaking "'What the hell is that noise? What did you two manage to break this time?". Youngsook waved the hair dryer in response, and you whined "NOOO, put it back, I'm cold!". He face palmed, instructing "'don't put it back, you are both smart enough to know that's a fire hazard so why are you doing it!".
Youngsook turned off the hair dryer and aimed it at him "'desperate times call for desperate measures" she shouted. You laughed then reached for her "'No, don't shoot, it's not worth it" you joked. He stepped closer and she shouted again "'don't take another step towards the princess, I will not hesitate to shoot!". Youngsook seemingly had no problem with understanding your silly little joke and played along with you. However, your older brother flicked Youngsook's head and pulled you out of the covers and stood you up, hand wrapped around your wrist like a naughty child, "'I will be taking the ‘princess’ to have her dinner. If you object, then shoot, if not put the dam thing back where it belongs" he told, knowing Youngsook wouldn't disagree with food. Despite seeming more mature than you and Youngsook, you didn't fail to notice that MinSook still played along with the joke.
He dragged you out of the room and his hand radiated waves of warmth into your skin "'gosh, you are so warm. Why couldn't i have stayed with you whilst you and mum were making dinner? You didn't have to banish us from the kitchen you know!" You mumbled. He let you go as you reached the kitchen, moving away from you to plate dinner up for everyone. "'I DID have to banish you! The two of you wouldn't stop getting in my way. As much as I absolutely love, ew, having you home, dinner would have never got done if you stayed in the kitchen. I was hoping Youngsook would just like lay with you and watch a movie, but no... sometimes I question if you two are straight up idiots". MinSook whined, teasing you about yours and her antics.
I'm sure I've made you seem like immature babies, but I promise you are grown up, it's just that when you get distracted and caught up by fun Youngsook likes to join, and vice versa. MinSook will join in some of the time, but when he is busy and you are distracting him, he will either give in, or kick you out of the room. Normally, you can get him to join for a little while, but once that's over you would most likely get kicked out and made to clean up your mess.
This doesn't make you and her upset, you only find his behaviour amusing, because he clearly wanted to join in, but doesn't want to be seen like a baby. He was 3 years older than you, sitting at 26, whilst she was 1 year younger than you, sitting at 22. There wasn't much of an age gap, but somehow it made all the difference.
Youngsook knocked on the wall, near the kitchens entrance, and asked "'am I allowed back in the kitchen?". MinSook looked at the girl, thinking about his options for a second before he responded "'yeah, can you do me a favour and take the plates to the table while I put away the leftovers. Mum's already in there setting up, just help her".
She stepped into the kitchen at the request and took five plates through to the dinner table. You watched as she took the plates, leaving you confused... there were only four of you at home, your dad was away on a business trip. You moved to watch her set the table and smiled, content at the proof that you could be just as grown up as your older brother. Well, you say that, but really Youngsook was doing all the work right now and you were stealing her thunder.
You turned on your heel and wondered back into the kitchen, glancing at your brother. "Why is the table set up for five? Are we expecting someone?" You question, rapidly becoming concerned at who in the hell could be joining you. He huffed at you "stop asking questions, go sit down", he turned to roll his eyes at you then went back to putting the leftovers into containers. Is he seriously going to be like that? This motherfucker...
An idea shot to your brain, the instant need for an answer seeping into your thoughts. Jumping down from the counter, you landed softly and walked towards him. You wrapped your arms around him, side hugging him. He groaned sassily "'gurl, can you get off while I put this away". You jokingly pouted and let go, waiting for the very second, he had put the leftovers in the fridge, so you could reattach your arms. But this time, your arms hit his bare back by sliding under his jumper. Causing a yelp to slip out of his mouth as he tried to get away from you but couldn't. You laughed manically, rubbing your cold fingers against any bit of his back that you were yet to touch. "AHHHHH..... (Y/N)... p-please. AHHH ST-OP" he shouted, screaming every time you reached a spot that was yet to be damaged by your cold nature. You cackled as you tortured him, but he wasn't sure whether to laugh at your witchy laugh, or cry that you had gone insane.
Giggling, you halted the movement of your hands "'What will you do for me if I remove them eh~" you joke, trying to bargain with him. He huffs weakly in return, "'remove your hands and I'll tell you". Slowly, you removed them and seeing a chance of escape he ran away from you, stopping in the hallway. "'watch this..." he spoke, bringing his hand up and turning the dial on the heating so it would be warmer for you. You giggled "the best thing you could've honestly done right now". Then walked towards the table, content at the payment you had received.
At the dinner table there was now another person sat down, a person you knew all too well. Seeing his face made you squeal and run up and hug him, nearly sending you and him backwards on the chair. Once you had released him, you moved to sit in your chair, though you wished you could've hugged and kissed him, but your family was there.
He chuckles as you sit next to him "Surprise (N/N), I've managed to get a break and I'm here to visit" he cheers, making cute jazzy hands at the surprise. Tears of joy threatened to spill at the discovery that he was here, at your family's house. He was meant to be in Seoul. You were meant to be in Seoul, how had you both managed to get a break from work? This was far too good to be true! Is this what main characters feel like?
"Oh, thank god, I'm so glad to see you, Soobin. How long will you be staying? When did you get here? How did you get here? Who told you the address? Which one of you sneaky people told Soobin to visit, without telling me!?" You stress him with a battery of questions, then address your family with the last question. Your mum giggled at your questions "I did sweetheart. But let's just begin dinner for now, Soobin can answer later, isn't that right Soobin?". He nods gently at your mother and grasps your hand quickly as the others focus on serving their food. He was overjoyed to see you; you could tell by the way his eyes twinkled every time he gazed over at you. His thumb rubbed on the back of your hand and then he let go to serve you both some dinner. Holding your hand was the best he could do right now to show you that he missed you, that he loves you, that he's happy, and you appreciated everything about it.
At the dinner table conversation was kept light because you were all more focused on eating, the food being absolutely delicious, served with a glass of wine each, cause YoungSook set the table. The girl definitely knows how to set a table. However, she didn't even like her wine, so MinSook ended up drinking her glass and his. Soobin drunk yours whilst you weren't looking, trying to be cheeky with you. Which he knew was okay because you didn't love wine either, he knew you'd rather a cocktail. Not that it made much difference to you, you hadn't been drinking for a while. When you were all done, you cleared the stuff of the table and let your family catch up with Soobin because they hadn't seen him in ages.
In the kitchen you turned some music on and started to wash the dishes, you were singing quietly and had managed to get bubbles splashed up yourself. You laughed at your messy appearance and continued to wash up.
When you were done, you grabbed a handful of bubbles and showed Youngsook, who could see you from the dinner table, giving her a 'shush' motion and pointing at Soobin. She looked away quickly, trying her best not to laugh at what was about to happen. You crept up behind Soobin and slapped his face with the bubbles, laughing at him. He wiped the bubbles from himself and looked back at you "'there is no excuse for that, I know for a fact you haven't had anything to drink.... So why in the world am I covered in bubbles?" He questioned with a chuckle and a cock of his eyebrow. You giggled and pointed at Youngsook "She told me to do it!".
Soobin looked to Youngsook, who gave him a knowing look, and the man only chuckled, excusing himself from the dinner table and rushing off to the kitchen, and then speeding back with a handful of bubbles. The sight meets your eyes and you quickly take off running up to your room, hoping you can lock the door before he gets there. Foolish were you to think you could beat a giant in a race.
You were inches, no, centimetres from locking the door when he wedged his foot in the door and then pushed it open with his elbow, his whole-body strength behind the push. He smirked as he approached you, rubbing his bubbly hands all over your face as he giggled, dimples showing which only made it difficult to be mad at him. He pauses his ministrations and holds your cheeks, taking his time with examining you before he mutters, so honestly and rawly it hurt to hear "I missed you so much. I'm so glad I'm here. I love you so much, I don't want to be apart from you again". He'd told you he loved you before, but this time he meant it with more than just his own being, he meant it with the whole world behind him, the whole universe. It felt special...
His face dives towards yours, not waiting for you to respond to his loving remarks, as his lips meet yours. Soft, gentle lips moved sweetly against yours, even carefully, until you moved closer to him. Then everything changed, it became more heated. His lips slid against your own wet ones as he forced the kiss deeper and deeper, feeling the urge to be so close with you you'd never have to be apart again.
Breaking away from the kiss for a split second, he lowly admits "I want you" then his lips were back on yours as he walks you backwards towards your bed. The second your legs come in touch with the edge of it you fall backwards onto it, him standing and watching as you do so.
As he eyes you, you giggle "Soob~ my family are here. We can't do this right now". He walks back towards your door and locks it, then returned to you, leaning over you on the bed.
"Oh darling, you can be quiet for me can't you. It wouldn't be the first time we've fucked with our family around, and I'm sure it won't be the last time either." He chuckles, a deep tone slowly becoming more and more prominent as he gets turned on.
His head draws close to your neck and right before he slides his tongue up your neck, you feel his hot breath fan across your skin. A warmth you've been craving all day, and you're sure he knows it. Everyone knows you get cold during winter; you were sensitive to weather, and normally Soobin would 'help' with that.
"Soobin... we shouldn't, you know we shouldn't" you mutter, voice slowly becoming more and more whiney and desperate. He knew it was working when he heard your voice, he knew that you wanted him as well. He didn't respond, in fact he only pursued you more.
His hot mouth latches onto your neck, sucking and biting at all your most sensitive spots, because he knows you like the back of his hand. The feeling causes a desperate whine to slip out of your lips before you could catch it. He groans and chuckles in your ear, his head drawing close to your neck "'do you want to be touched baby?" He asks in a gruff voice. You nod your head and whimper, trying to grind up onto him. "'then admit, you want me. It's not difficult darling".
You look down at Soobin and see him smirking, there was no way you were giving in to him that easily. "No, nothing to admit" you spoke, trying to grind on Soobin but failing. Soobin moves himself so he's leaning directly above you, hand either side of your head, making sure he's pressing his clothed cock right where you want it.
You nervously look up at Soobin, seeing him leaning to look at you. "'How many times does it take a brat like you to learn their lesson. Every time you always end up begging for my cock, so why don't we just cut to the chase, and you can start begging for me now hmmm~" The black-haired male speaks.
You glare at him and speak clearly "'I'm not that weak. I'll last this time".
Soobin groans "'that's too bad baby, I was really hoping you would just play nice today. After all, I did just fly so long to see you. You just love to put up a fight huh?". You turn your head to look away from him, flustered at his dirty whispering, but in doing so you had opened your neck up for an impatient Soobin.
"Ah, ah, ah. You don't get to look where you want to!" He speaks, bringing your face back in his direction with his hand wrapped securely around your neck. "'do you know why you don't get to do what you want?" He asked, leaning further toward you. You shook your head, and he chuckles "because you are a bad girl, and bad girls don't get what they want". Soobin tuts and smirks "'I'd be more than happy to indulge your desires (Y/N), but only if you beg for it". He runs his other hand across your body teasingly, leaning back to keep his balance, his other hand still around your neck.
"this is your chance to tell me no baby, all I need to hear is the word and I'll stop" he tells you, waiting for you to tell him he could before he continues, which made instant confirmation fall from your mouth. He pulled your clothes of you then pulled his shirt over his head, pulling off his joggers, then positioning himself between your legs like a missionary position.
You shivered at your lack of clothes trying to pull Soobin close to you so you could be warm but he stayed in place "'no can do darling, if you weren't such a naughty girl you'd be warm hmm~" he teased, kissing up your stomach to your naked chest. His tongue flicked over your hardened nipple and the other one was caressed by his hand. "mmmm, Soobin don't tease-" you spoke, gripping his hair in your hand. He chuckled dryly and muttered "You don't get to make orders tonight, baby. I'll tease you if I want to". Your eyes grew wide at the feeling of his fingers on your clit all of a sudden, whilst also having one hand on a nipple, and his tongue on the other one.
You knew you were fucked when Soobin got this dominant, he was a switch normally so when he topped like this, you knew there was no helping you. You were absolutely fucked. Not that you mind, of course.
"Soobin, please your fingers" you spoke, trying to sound like you weren't begging but failing. He hummed against your nipple then pulled his mouth off with a soft bite before speaking in a deep gravelly voice, "'my fingers eh~ seeing as you asked with your manners....".
He then slowly eased your soaking hole with his finger so it'll be ready for him, but if he was honest he'd claim that he liked when you were so tight and he'd stretch you out with his cock. "Oh darling, you are so fucking wet, and all for me. God you are so cute" he groaned, feeling his fingers slide in with no problem. You moan at the feeling and he chuckles "OooHo, that never lasts long baby, you'll be screaming in no time. But today baby, you need to stay quiet okay, atleast do that correctly".
You threw your arm over your face in an attempt to hide the burning blush that attacked your face. He started to go faster and you groaned and whined, throwing your arm off your face and looking at Soobin. "'that's it baby, keep your eyes on me" he speaks. You let a loud whine out as he adds another finger and your eyes fall off of him and roll to look at the ceiling. "'no, I don't think so. Look at me!" Soobin tells you, reaching to slap a hand over your mouth so you'll be quiet.
You look back to him and notice his gaze never falling off of you. Soobin's eyes were on you the entire time and that only made you clench around him, the ache In your stomach tightening.
Noticing you were close Soobin removes his fingers from you and pulls his boxers off, flipping you over so you were on top of him. "'I mean it now baby, remember the word" he says and kisses you hard, letting you know it's perfectly okay to stop whenever you want. He holds his dick against your entrance and teases you. Soft moans slip out of your mouth at the feeling of Soobin stretching out your pussy with his tip when you feel his hands wander across your body. Soobin's head presses against your neck and he kisses down your skin, ready to make you cry from pleasure.
Soobin begins thrusting in and out of you, your own hand quickly coming up to your mouth to hold back any moans that fall from your lips. "Ughh~ yeah baby stay quiet for me~"Soobin whispers into your ear, encouraging you to be quiet, which he rarely ever does, as he slowly goes in and out of you. Your whimpering dies down and it turns into moaning causing Soobin to speak "Are you ready to prove that you can be good for me, baby?".
In return you whine "'yes... mmmm... yes".
Soobin wasn't pleased, his hands digging into your hips slightly as he spoke up "'then beg for my cock huh~".
You looked down at him and begged "'please, Soob, Fuck me, make me feel good. Fuck.... I'll be so good, I'm sorry for lying, fuck me, please" Your words dripped with desperation, and even Soobin seemed encouraged by your begging.
"'oh, that was pathetic (Y/N), you are such a slut for me" Soobin chuckled into your ear, starting to speed up.
The moans that had died down as he demanded you to beg, had returned as he started thrusting into you faster, the sounds of wetness and skin slapping together echoing through the entire room. "yeah, darling take my cock... just like that" Soobin spoke, keeping his grip on your hips. You could barely hear Soobin over the sound of your own breathing. But you could tell he muttered dirty words into your ear. "Ughh, my fucking slut, taking me so well..... such a good little thing".
Moans and whines slipped from your throat, straight into your hand, as you bounced on Soobin's big cock, and jolted forward from the motion of his big hand slapping against your ass. The second he realised that would only cause more noise he switched to placing his veiny hands on your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers. Your body grew hotter and hotter as his dick continued to slip in and out of your wet, tight hole.
In that moment, you muttered something as you leant against Soobin's shoulder, your body being jolted by the aggressive movement. "'please..... cum inside me", that is what you muttered, it was desperate just like every other word that had slipped out of your mouth in this moment. But this sentence was different, it held a deeper desire behind the words, one the boy knew all about.
Soobin had heard the words slip out of your mouth and slowed down for a second before speaking as clearly as he could "are you sure (Y/N)?". He didn't use a nickname or a pet name, he used your name, the desire to get through to your conscious as honest as your wish. You nodded the best you could and spoke up "'yes, please, I want a baby".
Soobin demanded, almost to himself "'okay Darling, I'll give you a baby.". Soobin groaned in pleasure and kept going, trying his best to let you know he will fulfil your request. No, that he wants to fulfil your request. He kept going for awhile until you were both close, at which point you collapsed against him, tired, and he spoke "Are you sure darling ?, he checked as he was going to cum and in response you let out a short "very...". As soon as the word had fell from your mouth his cum shot inside of you painting your walls white as you came on him.
You were catching your breathe when you attempted to climb of him but found that your body was to weak. Soobin rolled you over so you were underneath him and then he pulled out of you, kissing your stomach and mumbling "I love you so much my love". You ruffled his hair and spoke "I feel the same way Soobin.... I love you so much".
#txt#txt smut#txt drabbles#txt imagines#txt hard thoughts#txt scenarios#txt hard hours#txt x reader#txt soobin#Soobin#soobin smut#soobin x reader#soobin drabbles#soobin imagines#soobin scenarios#soobin hard hours#soobin hard thoughts#soobin txt#HAPPY BIRTHDAY SOOBIN!!!#Yo-Yo Writes🌷#Yo-Yo’s hard thoughts 🥀#Soobin list 🐰
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𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬
𝐏.𝐉𝐒
SYNOPSIS: Long term lovers, long term friends. Nothing and no one could come in between you and Jay other than your fear of intimacy.
WARNINGS: tooth-rotting fluff and smut, bf!jay x inexperienced fem!reader, reader has a fear of intimacy, implied s/a (not graphic), soft!Jay (he’s so sweet in this I cried a little when writing, making out, dry humping, mentions of oral (f!), Jay’s experienced but his body count’s like 2, blasphemy, written with the song Training Wheels by Melanie Martinez in mind
A/N: This is very very self-indulgent, writing is a way i cope with my experience in these situations so I feel like I healed a little part of me by acknowledging it happened and it wasn’t my fault, instead I’m turning it into something comforting. This works for me and for some others however i recognise that it may be triggering for others even if there aren’t any graphic mentions of s/a only the aftermath, please only read this if you’re in the right headspace. Any disrespectful comment will be deleted and blocked from my account 🤍
WC: 1274
^^ NSFW UNDER CUT, MINORS DNI (not proofread)
It all happened so quickly and yet you were still stuck here, still scarred 2 almost 3 years in the past. Time doesn’t heal wounds, physical ones? Yes but this feeling you could never shake off even if you tried your hardest, you couldn’t heal especially not alone.
You weren’t the an overly religious person, definitely not after your trust was broken. If there was a god well they’re a dick, if god was real why did you get hurt? You didn’t do anything wrong you were so kind…so bright until a shadow blew your flame away and forced you to live in a chamber of your own inner darkness. It was not your fault, you didn’t do anything you were just there...
That flame grew smaller and smaller until it suddenly disappeared and all that was left was a trail of smoke showing that at some point in time you were burning and warming everyone’s hearts whilst yours was barley flickering trying so hard to stay alight.
So many things changed with Jay's re-entry into your life, everything seemed to change directions and you felt like there was a purpose for your existence. Despite the lingering pain and heartache thats been consuming you, his presence felt like a much needed breath of fresh air. It was as if he had come to you as a guardian angel pulling you out of the misery you were dwelling in. He gave you the comfort that you didn't even know you needed until he appeared. The one which eased the damages of your heart.
“I think I'm ready” You've told him this so many times that you're starting to feel guilty for giving him this false hope. You know you've pulled back on your words before, so you understand why he may be sceptical. However, this time is different. You've taken the time to reflect on your feelings and you're sure that you're finally ready. You want to show Jay that you're committed and prepared to take the next step in your intimacy and you're willing to put in the effort to make it happen.
He obviously had some doubts however, he took the time to affirm that you were genuinely ready and that you wouldn't have any regrets. He's always so patient and understanding which is not surprising considering that he has always been your best friend before he even had the privilege of calling himself your boyfriend. Someone who understands you better than anyone else, your soulmate in all and every way.
Your relationship with him is built on trust, understanding and respect and it was so scary, you've never been treated so well before Jay and it showed but he was patient with the time it took time to get used him.
“I’m 100% sure” you got up and sat on his lap. You were fine and it felt right, this time you were in control of the situation and you weren’t uncomfortable with the feeling of sitting crotch to crotch with your boyfriend.
It felt like there was a force pulling your lips toward his as you leaned in to connect with each other and in an instant, you felt a rush of intense emotions overwhelm you. Your pupils dilated and your heartbeat quickened as it was trying to catch up with the sudden flood of feelings. It was a moment of pure realization- this was what true love felt like, and now you knew it with absolute confidence.
You weren't Jay’s first but at this moment he felt like you were, he had like two quick fucks with past short term girlfriends but this time it felt different. His heart was running laps and it was like all the air in his lungs disappeared as soon as your plush lips met his. He mentally cursed himself for growing hard already but in his defence, he had the most beautiful girl on his lap making out with him and as much as it made him nervous he couldn't help but get aroused when you started slowly grinding on his bulge to set the mood.
Your lungs were beginning to burn from the lack of oxygen as the room was filled with loud and wet noises of lips smacking, what started off as a passionate slow kiss quickly turned into a deeply heated make out session. Tongues dancing in an animalistic rhythm, hands travelling anywhere they could- you finally unlocked another level of intimacy with your boyfriend.
As you reflect on the situation you're in right now you can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of joy and gratitude. You think back to all the moments you've shared together, from the first time you met to the night you opened up to him about your trauma. The thought that someone like Jay could choose to be with you fills you with so much happiness and you can't help but break into a fit of giggles at the sheer joy of it all. It's a feeling that's difficult to describe, but you know that you're grateful for every moment you get to spend with him.
Your hips moved faster as a result of the friction you felt, you moaned when it sent shocks of pleasure straight to your core and down your spine. When you adjusted to a better angle jays grip on your hips tightened, he let out a soft moan that sounded like music to your ears. You felt his soft palm touch your cheek signalling to look at him and once your eyes met he couldn’t control his body as he started thrusting in his hips into you.
Nearing closer and closer to your climax your head starting spinning when Jay let out moans and groans whereas you couldn’t keep even the smallest noises of pleasure within yourself, you noticed a tiny bead of sweat forming at the top of his sun-kissed skin. It was already a hot day but the way he was thrusting and you were grinding felt like the heating went up covering you in sweat. As you watched his face contort with pleasure you couldn't help but think that you had never seen a man this beautiful, both inside and out. His broad shoulders flexed to keep up with the movement of his hips and placement of his hands on your stuttering body, his chiseled features were accentuated by the dimmed living room light highlighting the sweat that trickled down his face. Despite the heat, he remained focused, determined to give you the best he could at the moment trying to leaving a lasting impression to say that sex isn’t as scary when it’s with the love of your life and you couldn't help but admire him for wanting to give you it all.
With all that work you finally felt your orgasm hit with jay’s quickly following after. You stayed laying on him ignoring the uncomfortable wetness on your panties as your blown out pupils stared off onto the empty space on the couch next to where you two rested,
“That felt amazing” you hummed agreeing with your boyfriend, “but if you’re up for it I can show you how good it can really feel” he purred, you felt his cock hardening again with the way you were spread out on him. In a span of seconds you two ran towards your shared bedroom preparing for a long night of what pleasure with your loved one really feels like starting off strong with jay devouring your pussy for the first time as an apology for the lack of dirty talk and foreplay he didn’t do before.
A/N: I’m not really happy with the ‘smut’ I rushed it and I think you can tell 😭 I haven’t posted in forever so this is a little filler for my hee fic that’s like 3/4 done (currently like 4K words idk 🤷🏽♀️) but I hope you guys enjoyed this little treat <3
#jay x reader#enhypen x reader#enhypen#enhypen smut#park jongseong#enha jongseong#enhypen jay#jay smut#jay hard thoughts#jay hard hours#park jongseong smut#enhypen ff#jay drabbles#park jay#park jay smut#jay soft thoughts#jay smau#enha jay#jay soft hours#jay angst#jay enhypen#jay park#jay park smut
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The Doll House - A Nanami x Reader Fanfic Part 4 (Final)
Despite your crippling fear of men, your family sells you to the Doll House. Luckily, you end up with the handsome, gentlemanly Nanami as your trainer, and he’s about to show you how great a man can be.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Read Geto’s Part Here!
Read Toji’s Part Here!
Read Sukuna’s Part Here!
Read Gojo’s Part Here!
Read Choso’s Part Here!
AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Nanami’s. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored! I’m keeping the same tag list as Geto’s part. If you’d like to be removed, please let me know!
Note: Consider these parts AU’s within an AU. So you might see Geto with a different doll from the reader in his part, but just consider this an alternate timeline lol.
Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Daddy kink. Hair pulling. Fingering. Divider by @benkeibear!
“Whaaaat?!”
Your voice comes out louder than you expected as your jaw practically hits the floor. Your aunt shows up out of nowhere, on your birthday, right after a magical date with Nanami, and tells you she’s taking you home? Why now? Scratch that, why did she sell you off in the first place?
You’ve wanted desperately to go home since the moment she dumped you out here, so this should be everything you want. But… Nanami just asked you to be his doll, for the entire ten years! Being with a man you’ve fallen in love with is something you never realized you wanted until now.
Two things you want desperately, offered to you at the same time, but you can only choose one.
Your heart and head are getting confused. Everything is happening too fast.
Your aunt looks at you and smiles, as if she didn’t just abandon you. “I figured four weeks would be enough. Looks like I was right. Look at you, all dressed up, going to dinner with a man.”
“Enough for what?” you ask, feeling strangely numb.
“Enough to fix your little man-fearing problem,” she says, giving a dismissive wave of her hand. “No niece of mine was going to stay hidden away in her room for the rest of her life, playing those silly games and reading those silly books.”
You stare at her in disbelief. “So, you sent me here to get me over my fear of men?” She nods, and suddenly you feel angry. “How could you?! Do you know how scared I was? I almost jumped out a window!”
“Now, now, don’t get snippy with me,” she says, not seeming to take your words seriously at all. “We can discuss all this privately. The owner has been kind enough to loan us one of the empty rooms for the night so we can finalize the termination of the contract. Come along.”
She walks off down the hall as if she owns the place, leaving you in stunned silence. You look over at Nanami, who has remained quiet this whole time, probably thinking it would be rude to interrupt a family discussion.
For a brief moment, a look of hurt passes over his face, but then he smiles warmly at you and says, “You get to go home. That’s what you’ve wanted all along, right? I’m happy for you.”
“But-“
“Please forget what I said earlier. Your place is with your family. You don’t belong here, being someone else’s property. Go and live your life.”
With that, he leans down and kisses your cheek, and then he’s gone, back to his room. You hear his door close, and it feels like he’s shut you out.
Left alone, you feel even more overwhelmed and confused. Should you go after Nanami? You don’t even know what you want. First of all, you think you should talk to your aunt before making any serious decision.
You walk down the familiar hallway and find only one door open. Inside, your aunt is sitting in a chair, your doll contract in her hands. She’s reading it over, probably for the tenth time. She’s always been very detail-oriented about things like this.
When you walk in and shut the door behind you, she looks up. “Don’t worry, the fees for breaking the contract are small,” she says. “There won’t be any problems.”
You’ve read the contract already. You know the fees are most definitely not small, though maybe they are for someone like her.
“Aunt Rina, did you really send me here just so I could get over my fear?”
She places the contract on the nearby table and crosses her legs. “Of course, honey. And it fixed you right up, didn’t it?”
“But what if I’d gotten stuck with some brute who would abuse me? How could you take that kind of risk with my safety?” you ask, struggling to keep your tone even, controlled. You’re trying to mimic Nanami.
She scoffs. “Do you think I didn’t extensively research this place, and Nanami Kento specifically, before bringing you here?”
You blink in surprise. “Nanami? You mean you planned for him to be my trainer?”
“I most certainly did,” she replies, looking pleased with herself. “He looks just like that cartoon man you loved so much when you were younger. Prince whatshisname. And after looking into him, he turned out to be perfect. I even spoke with several dolls he’s trained, and all of them had lovely things to say about him. They said he cares about consent, that he’s a wonderful lover, and just generally a prince of a man. I knew he could fix you, so I made sure he was available before bringing you in.”
She keeps using that term. “Fixing”. To her, you’re just a project that needed repairs. You clench your fists at your sides but keep your voice at a calm level. “Aunt Rina, I know you probably meant well, in your own way, but that wasn’t your decision to make. Especially not without even discussing it with me first. Even though Nanami has been wonderful to me, those first few days were hell for me. I was so scared, and I thought I had no family to turn to, because you had abandoned me.”
For the first time, a glimmer of something like guilt flashes in Aunt Rina’s eyes. “I was only trying to help you,” she says, half guilty, half defensive. “You’re such a smart, beautiful young woman. It seemed a shame to watch you rot away.”
You walk over and place one hand on her shoulder. “I understand what you’re saying, but you still didn’t have the right to make that choice for me. And the truth is, whether I’m afraid of men or not, I’m still going to be playing my games and reading my books. Getting over my fear won’t change who I am. You keep wanting to ‘fix me’, but I don’t need to be fixed. Not in the way you mean.”
Aunt Rina opens her mouth to say something, but she stops herself. She watches as you reach down and pick up the contract, then fold it neatly.
“What are you doing?” she asks, looking alarmed.
You tuck the contract into your bra, having no pockets on the dress. “I’m making my own decision for once. I’m choosing how I want to live my life.”
She stands up. “As a doll?! As some man’s plaything?”
“Not ‘some man’, Aunt Rina. The man I love.”
Before she can reply, you leave the room, hoping it’s not too late to take Nanami up on his offer.
*************************
Nanami closes the book in his lap and sighs. He can’t focus on the words at all. His eyes keep drifting over to the empty chair across from him, to the book she’d just started last night, lying untouched on the table. He didn’t realize how much he would miss her comforting presence, the way her face lit up as she read.
Should he have fought for her? Begged her to stay with him? No, that would have been unfair to her. She never wanted to be a doll in the first place, and that sort of life really didn’t suit her. She had a family and a home to return to, and he wouldn’t dream of trying to force her to give that up. He wouldn’t even ask, so as not to put her in a difficult position.
Still… he‘ll miss her.
A few minutes ago, he bagged up her belongings and sat them neatly in the hall. He hopes she’ll quietly take them and leave. He’s not sure he could bear seeing her again, saying goodbye to her. If he sees her face, hears her voice, he might not be able to resist asking her to stay.
Just as he’s standing up to get ready for bed, he hears a knock at his door. He freezes in place, listening. Then, he hears her sweet voice carry through the door.
“Nanami? Can we talk?”
He doesn’t answer. He can’t answer. He knows it’s cowardly, but he can’t face her, can’t face the coming farewell.
“Nanami? K… Kento?”
She’s never called him by his given name before, and his heart races at the sound of it. Why does it have to sound so lovely coming from her mouth?
There’s a pause, and then she asks, “Are you asleep?”
He doesn’t make a sound, afraid she’ll hear him and know he’s awake. So he waits, and waits, not moving, barely breathing, until it’s been so long that he’s certain she’s gone. Then he exhales a heavy breath and walks over to the door. He slowly cracks it open, and finds no one in the hall. She must have given up and gone to sleep. A tiny, selfish part of him wishes she’d still been there at his door, waiting for him. Surprisingly, her belongings are still on the floor, untouched. Did she not realize what they were?
Nanami closes the door again, locks it, then leans his back against it, eyes downcast. He can faintly smell her perfume. He was right to not open the door for her. It was taking every ounce of his strength to keep from marching straight to the room she’s sharing with her aunt and demand that she choose him.
The snow is picking up outside. He can hear the frigid wind blowing past his window. He wonders if she’s watching the snow, and at that very moment, he realizes it’s not just the wind he hears.
Something is banging on his window.
He looks up in surprise, and between the heavy brown curtains he can just make out a hand pressed against the glass.
Nanami rushes over and throws the curtains back. There, shivering at his window, red dress billowing around her in the snowy wind, is his doll. He hurriedly opens the window, ignoring the gust of snow hitting him in the face. “What are you doing?!” he yells, taking one of her arms and pulling her inside. He glances out the window behind her and sees a small end table from the welcome room. Did she really drag it outside in the cold and use it to climb up?
Her dress is damp from the snow, and beneath it, she’s wearing chunky black boots. “Are those… Choso’s boots?”
“I borrowed them,” she says, her teeth chattering. “Didn’t want to do this in heels.”
Nanami rushes to his closet and pulls out a coat, then wraps it around her shoulders. “Back to my original question,” he says, “what are you doing?”
“You wouldn’t open your door,” she tells him, seeming unusually bold. “This was my only other idea.”
He’s trying to decide how to respond to that when she reaches into the neckline of her dress and pulls out a folded piece of paper.
“Here’s my contract,” she says, holding the paper out to him. “Take it, and make me yours!”
Nanami stares at the contract in her hand, but doesn’t take it. “I can’t. You belong with your family. I don’t want to make you-“
“You’re not making me do anything!” she says forcefully. “For the first time in my life, I’m making an important choice for myself. I’m choosing you! Please don’t cheapen that by suggesting that you’re somehow making me do this.”
Nanami looks at her face, into her eyes. He sees nothing but determination and resolve. No doubts, no fear. She’s still holding the contract out to him. His face relaxes as the tension leaves his body. “I can’t take your contract now. The Doll House owns it until your training is complete.”
She blinks and lowers her arm. “Really?”
“Yes. So hold onto it until then.”
Her eyes flick from the contract in her hands to his face. “Does that mean you’ll still keep me?”
He smiles at her. “I’d be honored to officially have you as my doll.”
She squeals in delight and throws her arms around his neck, his coat slipping off her shoulders and falling to the floor. His hands automatically move to her back, rubbing it gently through the silky material of the dress as he tilts his face down to kiss her.
*************************
You’ve never been so happy before. You fell in love with your trainer, and the feeling is mutual. Now you get to spend the next ten years as his doll. You can’t imagine a more perfect life.
The two of you have been wrapped in each other’s arms for nearly ten minutes straight, kissing and smiling. But you’ve noticed a few things: Nanami’s kisses are getting deeper, his hands are slowly sliding your dress up your body, and there’s a rock hard bulge in his pants.
You raise your arms to let him pull the dress over your head, then you step out of Choso’s oversized boots, giggling at the memory of the other trainer’s confused face when you asked to borrow them. Nanami eagerly helps you out of your underwear, then unbuttons his shirt. You watch him pull the fabric off his shoulders, holding your breath without realizing it. Then he’s removing his pants, somehow looking classy even as he steps out of them one leg at a time.
Once fully undressed, he takes your hand and leads you to the bed. He kisses you once more before taking his place on the mattress, sitting up with his back against the brass headboard. He gently tugs you into his lap, facing away from him, and then his hands are moving all over you, softly groping your thighs and breasts. You lean back against his chest, and his mouth finds your neck. You breathe out a sigh as his hand slips down between your legs, his fingers brushing over your clit. He rubs tiny circles into it until you’re moaning and shuddering in his lap, your pussy dripping wet.
He pushes you forward until your elbows are almost touching the bed in front of you, your ass raised slightly. Then his hands are on your hips, pulling you back and onto his cock. You gasp as he enters you, this position allowing him to go especially deep. His hands on either side of you guide your movements, so that you’re thrusting back onto him, feeling him hit your sweet spot each time.
One of his hands leaves your hip and moves up to your neck, where he rubs across your skin, gathering your hair in his fist. He pulls, forcing your back to arch and his cock to shove even deeper into you. You cry out, your body stretching to its limit in various ways. “Ahhh, s-so deep, Daddy!”
He uses your hair to turn your head, so that you’re facing him as he leans around to kiss you. “Such a good girl for me,” he says, his other hand finding your clit again.
When the pleasure overwhelms you, you stop fucking yourself on his cock for a moment, catching your breath. He firmly tugs your hair, saying, “Don’t slow down, not until you’re full of my cum.”
Fuck, he’s hot when he’s forceful.
“Sorry, Daddy,” you say with a shaky voice, resuming your thrusts. “It just… feels so good…”
His fingers relentlessly pleasure you as he keeps a tight grip on your hair, keeping your upper body leaning back against him. The stimulation is too much, and you quickly cum, panting and moaning, your whole body quivering.
But you don’t stop moving, wanting to make Nanami feel as good as you do, wanting to feel his warm cum inside you. Clenching around him, you tilt your face up to kiss him again, deeply, your tongue running over his. It doesn’t take long for him to twitch inside you, and you feel him shudder as his grip on your hair tightens and his cock presses in deeper than ever. He cums into your pussy, filling you to the brim with his warmth.
Afterward, the two of you are lying in bed, you wrapped in his arms. His hands are idly rubbing your shoulders as he kisses the top of your head.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he says, his voice quiet.
“Never,” you say.
He lets out a sigh, sounding comfortable and content. “I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight than you outside my window.”
You look up at him. “Seriously? I thought I looked desperate.”
He smiles down at you. “I thought you looked like a dream, like everything I’ve ever wanted.”
You blush and bury your face in his chest. “I’ll talk to my aunt tomorrow,” you say, changing the subject. “I’m the one who signed the contract so she has no say in the matter, but I want to explain things to her anyway. She was wrong to do what she did, but she did raise me.”
“Of course,” he says. There’s a pause, then he adds, “Once your training is over, and I take possession of your contract, I’m going to rip it up.”
You sit up in alarm. “What? Why?”
“I don’t want you to be bound to me because of a legal document,” he tells you. “I want you to stay with me because you choose to. And besides… ten years isn’t nearly enough.”
You grin, snuggling back up to him. “I’ll always choose you. Ten years from now. A hundred years from now. I love you.”
End.
Tag List:
@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl @peachedtv @ladytamayolover @nanam1nx @deegausserr
Note for those on the tag list: I’m doing Sukuna’s part next and since it will involve some more extreme elements (s&m, erotic torture, ptsd, things like that, though everything that happens between Sukuna and Reader will be consensual), I’m not going to keep this tag list. If you’d like to be tagged in the Sukuna chapters, please tell me so! Otherwise, I’ll resume tagging you when I get to the next trainer!
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The Almost Breakup
note: short but i'm happy with it
also gonna get back into this story soon also if you have thoughts on this au (or any of my aus) please share i love hearing them <3
y/nupdates
liked by CorrodedCoffinStan, lilian_19, and others
y/nupdates: Y/n and Isla (Y/n's boyfriend's daughter) out together going out to dinner and seeming very close, and no Eddie in sight
y/nupdates: Y/n and Isla (Y/n's boyfriend's daughter) out together going out to dinner and seeming very close, and no Eddie in sight
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emails.tour.11: her and isla bonding is so cute
icarly_: Isla is so pretty
Metalhead_: she's such a slut
13taytay: JOJO!! HAVE YOU LEARNED NOTHING?!?!
im.a.mirrorball: in her step-mom era
y/nismyqueen: where are y/n's shoes from?? very very important!
for_our_moony: prada i think, but steve madden makes a more affordable
CorrodedCoffinStan: he is to old for her, and now making her act like a mom to his daughter. disgusting.
-
y/nupdates
liked by tswiftfan13, gilmore_girl, and others
y/nupdates: Y/n was out with her new boyfriend, Eddie Munson's son. They went out to lunch together, and this is the first time we've seen them together.
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dog.loverrr: only 5 years between her and her boyfriends son..
princess.y/n: love seeing her with Leo not just isla
anna.frozen_: my worlds colliding
munson_86: fr been an Eddie fan for years and a Y/n fan since girl meets world
y/nswifey: forever in love with Leo Munson
philly_eagles.fan: i think they should date instead of her and his dad, the age gap is gross
-
Eddie and Y/n have been together for 6 months now, about the time Eddie’s relationships would end, without the women ever meeting his kids and never any ‘I love you’s. But everything was going well, and though Y/n had met Isla when she met Eddie they had gotten really close, and she had now met Leo and despite all expectations that went well. Y/n and Leo had become friends of sorts. But no matter how happy he was, how happy she made him, Eddie started pulling away. He couldn’t help it. He loved her, yes. Not that he’d told her yet. He loved his kids first, and he has to put them first, always will.
Y/n was now on the international leg of her tour, and they haven’t talked in a while, always seeming to miss each other. This was giving Eddie the space he needs to think about their relationship. Not without zero help from his kids.
“Is Y/n going to come here after her shows in Europe are over?” Isla asked, pushing her vegetables across her plate with her fork, then picking up her knife to saw the broccoli in two.
“Um- I’m not sure, kid.” The man mumbles, hoping Isla will move on after not getting an answer.
“Why not?”
“Isla-”
“Can you ask-”
“Isla! Finish your dinner, or if you're done take your plate to the kitchen.” Sighing, Isla got up grabbing her plate to the kitchen and stomping upstairs to her room. After hearing the slamming the teens door, Eddie gets up to start loading the dishwasher. Leo, who was over for dinner, like he often did, walked over to his dad, placing his plate next to the sink. Then rounding the island, to sit at a bar stool.
“So.. What’s with your attitude?” This causes Eddie to look up from his task, giving his son a look that could kill.
“Leo, we're not talking about this.”
“No. We have to. I don’t know what’s wrong with you. You get so sensitive everytime we mention Y/n lately. Are you not talking? Please don’t break up with this one, I actually like her.”
“Leo. I ca-”
“No. You love her! And I guess that scares you, because every relationship you’ve had since mom has had this 6 month timer and that timer has gone off, and you're not ready. Or it scares you that she’s so close to us. And that if you ever break up Isla would be heartbroken.”
Eddie takes a moment, thinking over what Leo has said, and scarily accurate it is, and since when was Leo that smart?
“Leo?... Could you stay here with Isla for a few days?”
“Yeah.” Leo says, a wide grin spreading across his face.
-
Here Y/n was sitting in her hotel in Paris, staring at her phone, looking at a voicemail Eddie had left. It’s time. He’s going to break up with her; she just knows it. Her and Leo went out a couple weeks ago and he had let slip of Eddie’s 6 month timer on relationships, of course that was followed with Leo’s reassurance that he could feel she was different. But that didn’t cure her anxiety.
Because since she left for tour, they haven’t talked, like Eddie has been avoiding her. She had written a break-up song about him for fucks sake, they’re not even broken up yet. But now he was going to break up with her, over a voicemail at that.
Ripping the band-aid off, Y/n finally presses play on the voicemail.
“Hey, Y/n-” God her first name, it’s really happening “-um, I have a lot of this to say, but I can’t say it over the phone. So I’ll talk to you later. I care about you. I know it hasn’t felt like it, and that’s part of what I need to talk about. I just need you to remember that. I care about you. Okay. Bye.”
At least he was planning on letting her down easy. Guess that’s a plus. Pouring herself a glass of wine from the overpriced display hotels have, Y/n sits down at the dining table, staring at the abstract painting across from her. After what felt like an hour of staring, which in actuality it was 10 minutes, the young woman hears the click of the hotel door. It startles her back into a conscious state, wondering why her assistant Andrea, the only other person with a key card, was entering her room at this hour.
“Andrea?” Turning the corner, Y/n comes face to face with the older, taller man. “Eds… Wha- what are you doing here?”
“Did you not get my voicemail?” He asks, as if that voicemail held any answers.
“Yeah, but.. It was pretty vague.” Her reply caused Eddie to smile.
“Yeah, sorry about that, I was in a rush. Packing, getting the jet ready.” Silence came over the two. Awkward silence. The couple had never been in awkward silence for the entirety of their relationship, always talking, never a pause in their banter. They had comfortable silence at night, staring into each other's eyes. But never was it awkward between them.
“You’ve been avoiding my calls.”
“I’ve been avoiding your calls.” The two spoke at the same time, before Eddie continues, “I’m sorry. It’s just- Ever since my relationship with my ex-wife, my relationships have had this 6 month lifespan. And when they get close to 6 months I get ready to end things.” Here it comes the ‘it’s not you, it’s me and my commitment issues’ “But that didn’t happen with you.” Oh. “With you, you met Isla and Leo no woman I’ve been with has gotten there, and they like you! And that’s fucking scarry. So the thought of us ever breaking up and what that would do to Isla.. It killed me, so I wanted to get ahead of it, y’know break up with you before she got even more attached, but I couldn’t so I just avoided you. Which was the wrong choice because that just caused you and me more pain. So.. I came here to tell you that.. I love you. And you don’t have to say it back, but I need you to know that I’m in, and this relationship it’s not just you and me anymore, my kids are in this. And I have to think about them and I need to know that you will also think about them.”
Throughout that long winded explanation, all Y/n could think about is that Eddie is not breaking up with her, and that he loves her. He, Eddie Munson, playboy, rock legend loved her.
“Eds, I love you too.” After she said the three little magic words, Eddie leaps towards her, his lips smashing against hers. Their lips moving in sync, Eddie’s tongue tempting her lips to widen, to allow his tongue and hers to fight for dominance. Y/n’s lips grant Eddie’s tongue entrance while Eddie has her distracted by his tongue, his hands slip downwards to her thighs gripping them for support to lift the woman onto the dining table, leaning her back and lifting his lips from hers to be able to talk once again. The disconnection of their lips leave the couple breathless, panting, and staring into eachothers eyes.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
-
The couple wake up the next morning, sunlight seeping through the sheer curtains, legs tangled together, Y/n moving to put her cold feet on Eddie’s legs to warm them.
“Ah! Get your feet off me. They’re cold.” Eddie mumbles into his hair, before turning his body to face Y/n, he was the little spoon last night.
“I know! That’s why I want you to warm them.” The short woman says in a ‘duh’ tone. Wiggling her feet between his calves, Eddie grabs her ankles, moving onto his back and pulling her to straddle him. Her bare core, resting on his v-line, as the two were still naked from last night's activities.
“Hi.”
“Hi, darling.”
“Good morning.”
“Good morning.” The older man brings his hand to his girl's jaw, his thumb rubbing back and forth on her cheek.
“I love you.” This causes Eddie to let out a deep chuckle, as the two have said this about 30 times since he first did last night.
“I love you too.”
“So.. Now that we’re in love or whatever.” “‘Whatever’” “I want you to meet my parents… In a couple months when I get a break from tour. What do you think about that?” Y/n was worried about asking Eddie this, it felt so juvenile, but Eddie has never once made her feel bad about their age gap, one of the many things she loved about him.
“I would love to. And in the summer, I would really love you coming with me and the kids to Hawkins, meet my uncle and my hometown friends?”
“I would love to meet the man that raised my amazing man. I’ll have to thank him y’know. A lot.”
“Of course, he did a great job.”
“Oh shut up. I also really want to meet your friends. What are they like?”
“Well theirs the Hellfire boys, Dustin, Lucas, Mike and Will. They’re a couple years younger than me, all married, all have kids. Mike and Will are married, they adopted a few. Then there’s Steve. He has a kid Leo’s age.. Then Robin, she got married to this girl from high school, Vicky, me and Steve totally got them together but she won’t admit it. They’re all great, and I can’t wait for you to meet them.”
-
“I want to go to.. Italy. Have you been?”
“Yeah, it’s beautiful.”
“I’ve always wanted to go.”
“I’ll take you.”
The two have been laying on their backs staring at the ceiling, talking all about the places they’ve been and want to go. The couple haven't left the bed all day, just to go to the bathroom, and Eddie once to grab them food, all while still naked, just how they liked it.
“I wrote a breakup song about you.. Before everything, when I thought we were going to break up.” She added the last part quickly after her pause.
“Anything bad about me?” Eddie asks, clearly making a joke out of it, something Y/n was thankful for, he could always tell when she needed him to be serious and when she needed him to be jokey, another thing she loved about him.
“No, of course not. Just about how it would be super hard for me if we did break up.”
“Then good thing we didn’t.” He says, pressing his lips gently against hers.
~taglist~
@whoscamila @mystargirl-interlude @creoleguurl @witchwolflea @kissmejoey @taylorswiftsloverfr @random000000sblog
#eddie munson x fem reader#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x reader#older!rockstar!eddie x reader#older!rockstar!eddie#older!eddie munson x reader#older!eddie#older eddie munson#older!dilf!eddie munson#older!rockstar!eddie x popstar!reader#girl dad!eddie munson#eddie munson x girlfriend!reader#eddie munson x girly!reader#older!eddie x popstar!reader#older!eddie fluff#older!eddie munson#older!eddie munson x y/n#older!eddie x reader#older!eddiemunson
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Hiiii! Can i request? I'm not sure if this was a good idea but I'm hoping maybe you could make an angst to fluff? Gojo x reader please. Where gojo thinks y/n is a burden but regretted it. Thank youuuu 🥺🙏
I've got you babe. It's not that heavy regarding hurt, I still hope you enjoy though (if you look for heavy heavy hurt, just look through my masterlist lol) Let me know what you think <3
Gojo calling (y/n) a burden to keep her safe
Pairing: Gojo x reader
Word Count: 2,8k
Synopsis: Despite the fact that Satoru Gojo was the one who lifted you up and gave you the confidence to go on your very first solo-mission, it was also him who shattered your confidence in order to keep you safe.
Warnings: language, (y/n) being self-unconscious, hurt but comfort (not that heavy hurt though)
To say you are excited is an understatement. Heart almost pounding out of your chest, whole face light up in nothing but motivation. Yes, this will be your day.
This is the day you’ve been waiting for, the moment you’ve trained so hard for all those months. You, on the side on none other than Satoru Gojo. The gifted boy who has it all, the boy with the six eyes, the boy you secretly have a crush on since joining Jujutsu High. You hate to admit it, especially towards your best friend Utahime. But god, something about him just makes your knees go weak.
“I’m gonna be honest with you. I’m not a huge fan of you being here, (y/n).”
Not because he thinks you aren’t skilled enough. Despite being in your first year, your fighting technique is remarkable, never skipping a single training session, always motivated. But the thought of exposing you to that cruel world outside jujutsu high, having to leave you alone on the battlefield…
Satoru just can’t. Fuck that everyone congratulates you on your first mission, fuck the way your eyes sparkle in excitement. Your beautiful doe eyes, your gorgeous innocent eyes…
He can’t let them hurt a single hair on your precious body.
“How’s that? You said yourself that I made a lot of progress”, you reply with an ever so slight pout.
Why would he say something like that? Even though you’re still in his first year and Satoru keeps himself busy with missions that require a special grade sorcerer, he always finds time to train with you. Even if it’s only for 5 minutes before leaving, even if it means standing in the rain with you for hours. He’s always there, always by your side. And now…now it is a bad thing that you accompany him? What about all those times he told you you are good enough when it was you who doubted herself.
Satoru clenches his jaw, eyes darting away from the stinging presence of your gaze. What is he supposed to say now? That he fucking loves you and hates the thought that you might get hurt? That this mission means you’ll be gone from time to time now and he’ll miss having you around all the time?
No way in hell.
“Just don’t get hurt, okay?”
The stone-cold tone in his usually so melodic voice makes your heart ache. Did you do something wrong? Was it something you’ve said?
You don’t have time to think about it any further. In fact, you get thrown into the air within the split of a second.
Your eyes widen in horror, all air escapes from lungs in an instant. That thing…that is definitely a curse. And what a strong one.
With a fast slash of your sword you free yourself just in time before getting smacked against a nearby building, landing on the ground so effortlessly elegant that Satoru can’t help but stare. You make it look so easy. And yet…
“I will have to leave now, (y/n). Call me when you need help. And remember what we trained for and the movement I’ve showed you yesterday. Keep in mind that you need to swing your leg-“
“Satoru.”
Gently, you place your hand on his shoulder.
“I’ve got this, okay? Go and free those jujutsu sorcerers. We’ll meet again when I exorcised that thing and you return with everyone safe and sound.”
Your breath-taking smile makes it hard for him to stay focused, to remind himself of the fact that your life is in serious danger. Even though that curse definitely isn’t that powerful, you still have to be careful. And Satoru won’t be here to protect you for a while.
“Get going, Satoru.”
One last glance. One last touch of his hand and you’re gone in the wind, swinging your body into the hot summer air. He shakes himself out of his trance, eyes focusing on the tall building ahead of him.
He has a job to do. The faster he is, the sooner he can fight by your side.
“Please keep your eyes open”, he mutters more to himself than towards you.
Then you’re alone. Eye to eye with the quite small curse who doesn’t even tries to fight against you anymore. Did it give up? Is it already this drained? You didn’t even fight for 5 minutes by now. It doesn’t matter though. This is your first ever solo-mission, the first time you were truly able to show your abilities. Well, it’s not your fault the curse appears to be weaker than expected, right?
With a swift motion you slice through it, expecting to turn into smoke like you’re used to. You blink a few times, sword digging into the ground.
But it doesn’t.
Is it a misunderstanding, maybe? Could it be possible that only the strong curses disappear when getting exorcised? Until today, you were only able to watch from afar how Suguru and Satoru did it. Maybe you missed something, maybe it is in fact-
All colour drains from yourself in an instant, soul leaving your body along with warm liquid running down your stomach.
Something hit you.
Something definitely pierced right through you.
Your trembling fingers push the emergency button on your phone just in time before you are threatened to get attacked again. It takes all your strength to outstand that thing. But no, it’s not the quite small curse from before. That standing right in front of you is a decent-sized monster.
“How?” you breathe out.
Fuck, every single breath sends wave of agony through your veins, blood soaking through your uniform with ease. Suddenly you begin to tremble regardless of the fact that the sun is scorching hot, sweaty hand holding onto the handle of your sword for dear life. You need to hold on, at least a few minutes, at least until Satoru returns to your side.
Satoru.
“Who the hell is this”, he mumbles, taking out his phone while busting through a wall.
It’s you.
No. His heart skips a beat. This is your distress signal. This means that you’re…
His eyes widen in pure horror, all the nasty things he imagined earlier becoming reality. Please, let this be a mistake, let this be a bad joke. But he knows you aren’t joking, that you wouldn’t push that button out of nowhere. It means your life is in danger – in serious danger if your suborn self decided on calling him.
Satoru doesn’t have to think twice. These jujutsu sorcerers will have to wait.
“You need to come here. Right now”, he barks into the speaker.
“Huh, what’s up your ass today? What is even going-“
“I don’t know, but (y/n) pressed the button. Just come here and bring Suguru with you.”
He hangs up on Shoko without waiting for her reply. Instead, he storms back the way that he came, greeted by nothing but chaos. Fuck, this looks bad. Very very bad, to be exact. Did all of this happen within maybe 15 minutes? But the curse wasn’t that strong when he left, you were able to land hits so easily.
“(y/n)?” he screams on top of his lungs.
“I’ve got this, Satoru”, you blurt out.
There you stand, completely soaked in your own blood, your uniform torn. He can’t catch his breath, hands trembling just by looking at you.
“You’ve got nothing, (y/n). Get out the way and let me handle this on my own”, he instructs you with a seriousness in his voice you’ve never heard before.
Maybe it was a mistake calling him, maybe you would have been able to defeat this thing alone. After all, Shoko will stitch you up when you return to Jujutsu High, right? This is your first solo-mission, you need to try harder, you need to at least try, show Satoru what you’ve learned.
Without hesitation you storm forward, sword slashing through the air. But just when your blade is about to hit that frightful creature, Satoru pushes you out of the way.
Just to get hit full force by that monster and crashing into a nearby building.
“Satoru!” you cry out.
“Leave. Right. Now.”, he hisses through gritted teeth.
“(y/n), you need to get going, come on!” a familiar female voice shouts over the noise.
Shoko. Is that Shoko? You squint your hurting eyes, looking into distance. She’s here along with Suguru. Your heart sinks, eyes filling with tears. But this…this should have been your first solo-mission, your very first success.
“Hey, can you hear me? Move your ass away from here, he’s got it”, Shoko reassures you, now by your side through the help of Suguru’s controlled curse.
“I’ve got this! It’s my first mission, I’m still able to fight, I’m still strong enough-“
“You’re nothing but a burden, (y/n)! You’re doing nothing but standing in my way!” Satoru suddenly screams so harshly into your face that you flinch back.
“Come on, no need to shout like that…”, Shoko interrupts.
“Don’t you get that you aren’t strong enough, that you aren’t as good as you think? Do me a favour and get out of the fucking way, (y/n). I don’t wanna see your face anymore.”
“B-but you were the one who told me-“
“I lied”, he interrupts you immediately.
“I didn’t wanna hurt your feelings. Look what you’ve did today. You aren’t even able to defeat a grade 2 curse.”
His words hit you with full force, pull the ground underneath your feet. And just like that he’s gone, catapulting himself onto the curse in front of you that is about to destroy the whole city. All you can do is stare at him through glossy eyes, silent tears running down your face. You don’t even protest anymore when Suguru and Shoko grab your shoulder and transport you away. Away from this mess.
Away from Satoru’s cruel words.
“You’re nothing but a burden.”
Nothing but a burden. Is this really how he feels about you? All those encouraging words, all the precious moments you were so certain that he looked at you with a spark of affection in his eyes.
But oh, that spark definitely died today. Nothing but thick rage radiated from his bright blue orbs, staring down at you in disgust.
“Hey, don’t cry. He’s not worth your tears”, Shoko tries to cheer you up while working wonders on your drained body.
“I thought…he saw more in me”, you hush.
“Men are stupid and useless. You did very well for your first mission alone, (y/n). And that curse definitely wasn’t a grade 2 like that idiot said. Not all of us get power stuck in their ass from birth, y’know”, she mumbles, casually lighting a cigarette.
Meanwhile Satoru’s heavy footsteps echo through the hallway of the hospital wing, his mind racing. Fuck, his heart doesn’t stop bleeding from the venomous words he shot at you earlier.
“I know why you did it. Maybe she’ll understand somehow”, Suguru tries to reassure him.
He knows it too. Satoru know you well enough to be aware of the stinging fact that you’re suborn. Too suborn to miss a single training session, too suborn to give up when he already beat you multiple times. And too suborn to run away from a fight when you’re already on the brink of death. If Shoko wasted another minute, if he would have been by your side just a few moments later…
You could be gone. You would have been killed in front of his very own eyes because of a curse than transformed itself into a special grade with every hit you landed on it, you would have been killed by a curse that would have ended the lives of every other jujutsu sorcerer apart from the three special grades.
And that’s because he had no choice but break your heart. Even though it tore him into pieces, even though he’ll never forget the way your numb eyes stared at him while Suguru and Shoko carried you away from the battlefield. Hurting your feelings seemed to be the only option he had to get rid of you.
“I feel so shitty, man. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that she’s a burden, she was always so self-unconscious about herself…”
Suguru pats the shoulder of his best friend gently, coming to a stand in front of the door that leads to you.
“Then it’s your job to make her feel better now, right?”
One last look at Suguru’s encouraging smile. His hand rests against the doorknob, taking a deep breath in before opening it.
“Oh, there he is, the devil himself”, Shoko comments dryly.
Satoru sends a death glare her way, shaking his head over the fact that she’s smoking while you lay right next to her.
“Hey, how you’re feeling?”, he asks towards you gently.
You blink away the film of tears that starts to form on your eyes all over again, avoiding his gaze at any costs. Not now, not when you’re already feeling down. Satoru Gojo definitely is the last person you want to see.
“Like a burden”, you mutter.
His heart stings in an instant.
“I never meant what I’ve said, (y/n). It’s just…I wanted to save you.”
“Save me by tearing me down?”, you question.
Fuck, he feels so dumb, standing next to your bed like an idiot while you stare at the ceiling, not even daring to look his way. He knows he deserves every bit of your rejection, that his words earlier that day must have been more than hurtful. But please…just talk to him, just glimpse at him one time.
“I told you over and over how strong you are, that you are ready for a solo-mission. But that today…That wasn’t a grade 2 anymore, (y/n). I know it was a special grade. No one except Suguru and I would be able to defeat something like this. But you were so dedicated, you were already on your way to storm into your certain death and I just couldn’t let that happen…I know how badly you wanted this to work out, but this wasn’t the right time. And you weren’t able to see that.”
Gently, he cups your hand with his. Your mind screams at you to pull away, to jump up and run away from him. But why…why are tears starting to pool your eyes, running down your bruised cheeks like waterfalls? Why is all you want to feel right now Satoru’s hand against yours? Why does it have to feel so calming?
And why do his words have to make sense?
“You said I’m a burden…”
“You are everything to me, (y/n)”, he suddenly blurts out.
“And the thought of hurting your feelings for a moment sounded better than you getting killed in that useless battle.”
You look up at him, the boy you learned to love so long ago, the boy who actually made you believe in yourself and your abilities. Is it really this easy to simply believe him, to forget about the stinging fact that he called you useless one way or another?
“But maybe you were right. The only thing I did was making things worse. It took me 3 kills to realize that he multiplies with every hit…”, you mutter defeated.
“Don’t you dare to believe a single word of that. I thought be talked this over”, Satoru insists, cupping your face gently.
“I know I am a jerk and believe me, I hated myself for the things I threw at you. But the truth is…You mean so much to me, the thought of losing you forever hurts way more than that you might hate me in some kind of way. But please, don’t ever talk yourself down. You are wonderful, you are outstanding smart, you are so skilled that it scares me. You are in your first year and still you managed to keep up with that thing for so long. You are strong, (y/n). Don’t let an idiot like me make you believe that you are a burden when you are in fact the greatest treasure on earth.”
You rest your tearing eyes for a moment, allow yourself to snuggle against the palm of his hand. It feels so good, like balm for your soul. Before knowing Satoru Gojo, you were nothing but an insecure little girl who was sure nothing great will ever come from her.
It was him who made you believe in yourself. It was him who showed you what you are capable to do. It was him who showed you how to love yourself. It was Satoru Gojo all along. And one glimpse into his sincere ocean blue eyes is enough to know that he still feels this way.
“I love you”, you whisper into the thick silence of the room.
“I love you too, (y/n). And you’ll be never be a burden to me, always remember that.”
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Shoveling Snow with Levi
moodboard and drabble oneshot for @humanitys-strongest-bamf who requested shoveling snow and hot tea snuggles with Levi <3
content: fluff, modern au, established relationship, marriage, winter
word count: ~1.3k
Levi is the kind of man who will do all of the hard chores, even though you're very much capable of doing so. Shoveling snow is one of those. To be honest, you didn't mind because shoveling snow was the worst part of winter next to having to drive in it. But it means time away from your newly wedded husband, and for that you were sad about it.
On this particular day, Levi awoke to a few feet of new accumulation staring right back at him from the window. The weather forecast predicted no such thing so he grumbles something under his breath, unfortunately waking you up for the day. He feels you stirring and rolls over to see your face half covered from the plush pillow, a sleepy eye peeking over the navy blue cloth.
“Sorry, Love. I didn't mean to wake you.” Levi says softly as he inches closer to you and wraps his arms around your waist just to pull you into him. His bare chest is warm from being under the sheets all night. The gentle beating of his heart threatens to lull you to sleep again, but you remember the grumbling that woke you up in the first place.
“What's wrong?” You ask, muffled from being pressed up against his chest.
“It snowed a lot last night, so I need to shovel. Again.” You can already feel the scowl that pulls on Levi's soft lips.
“No. We're staying inside all day. You said.” You whine back, snaking your own arms around him to keep him close. You wouldn't let him go, not ever.
“That was before I knew the forecaster was a liar.” Levi grumbles yet again.
“The weather is unpredictable, you know that.”
“Tch. If I don't take care of it, then it will just melt and make it worse. Do you want to fall on your ass like last year?”
“That's not fair, I was distracted!”
“A cat running down the sidewalk is not a valid excuse when you could have been paying attention to where you were going.” Levi chuckles and rests his chin on the top of your head before kissing it softly.
“Mean. And to be fair, he had a bow in his mouth and he was really cute.” You whisper, a smile still appearing despite the silly comments.
You both lie there a little longer, the only noises in the bedroom coming from the soft exhales you both made as well as the little wall clock on the opposite side of the room. You're almost about to fall back asleep until you're jostled awake by Levi pulling away from you. You do your best to grab him and bring him back but he's too strong for you. Before you know it, you're staring at Levi's muscular back.
“I won't be long.” He says as he stands up and stretches his arms above his head. His back and arms flex from the movement and you can't help but stare. Oh how you wish you could trail kisses down them right now. But you didn't have time for that.
“I'm coming with you.” You state matter-of-factly as you rip off your sheets in a dramatic show of display. You wish you hadn't as the winter morning air bites at your bare skin, but you had to make a point. Pushing yourself out of bed, you turn and stare at Levi with a look of determination.
“You hate shoveling.” Levi states back. He makes his way over to the closet to grab some winter clothing.
“I do. But you promised me hot tea and movies today and I'll be damned if this stops us. It will make it go faster.” You shrug as you follow Levi's steps.
Eventually, you and your husband are both fitted for the snow. He helps lace up your snow boots and you do the same for him. You look like you're ready for some miscellaneous winter sport, but unfortunately you were heading out for something far worse.
Shoveling sucks. Ten minutes in, you can already feel your arms burning and your back aching from bending at such an odd angle. Levi told you to only worry about the walkway connecting the front porch to the driveway. It's a small section compared to his and yet you're still struggling. You're doing your best to slow your breathing and take your time but you still feel sweat starting to accumulate. This chore is enough to make athletes question their fitness, you think.
About an hour passes until you're both done. You collapse into the snow, reveling in the cool that permeates the cloth beneath you. The sky is a brilliant blue with a few low clouds in the sky, no doubt the traces left behind last night's snow.
“I thought you said you wanted hot chocolate and movies.” Levi says as he steps over to you. His shadow covers your face and all you see now is his pretty features with a sun halo around his head.
“I do! I'm just waiting to see if death is going to take me now or later.”
Levi holds his hand out to you and you take it. He pulls you up like you're air and steadies your body to keep you from falling head first the other way. His nose and cheeks are rosy pink from the cold and you reach up to touch his face with your palm. He really is pretty.
“Something on my face?” His gray eyes almost look blue from the reflection of the afternoon sky and bright white snow.
“Yeah, your face. I like it.”
“You're so weird.”
“Yeah, but you like it.”
“Do I?”
“Well you better. You’re stuck with this forever.” You laugh at his stoic expression with one raised eyebrow.
“Just go inside already. Take a warm shower while I get some tea started.” He shakes his head at you as you start to walk away. He calls your name at the same time you feel his gloved hand wrap around your arm.
In just a few seconds, he pulls you into him and is tilting your chin with his other hand towards his face. His lips meet yours gently, the warmth of it all spreading into your face and down to your toes. Then it's over as it started. His face pulls away as he looks into your eyes earnestly.
“Now go. I'm sure you have a ton of movies in mind.”
Levi’s special tea is done brewing around the same time you step out of the bedroom in a fresh pair of pajamas with fuzzy socks to boot. He had the living room ready for a night in. Fairy lights and candles decorate the mantle of the fireplace that sits ablaze. The warmth of it is immediate as you make your way to the couch already adorned with your favorite blankets.
“You know me so well.” You smile over at Levi who is just now setting a tray full of snacks and tea.
“Being together as long as we have will do that to you.” He says back nonchalantly, though you spot that little smile of his tugging at the corners of his mouth.
The movie you picked out was really good. The tea Levi made was even better. As you snuggle up into Levi's side, you take a few deep breaths of his musky scent. It's not long before you're drifting off to sleep again with dreams of snow-filled adventures and your perfect husband.
There is a little over a week left of my winter event! If you'd like to request something, go here for the rules! <3
#sky's winter event#attack on titan#aot#shingeki no kyojin#snk#levi ackerman#levi ackerman x reader#levi x reader#x reader#levi ackermann#levi ackermann x reader#modern au#sky's moodboards#kat.moots
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