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aestheticaltcow · 1 month

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The Night When It Went Wrong

Finally, part two to the Six Months multiverse.

More parts coming soon...

MDNI 18+

Six Months

Carmy walked toward a modest white-paneled house with a long brick walkway. A knot formed in the back of his throat as he walked up the steps to Selena’s front door. This was a mistake. He could turn back now, drive home to you and Mia, and pretend this had never happened. He'd pushed the doorbell before he could stop and think about what this would mean for his relationship.

Selena opened the door quickly. She stood in the doorframe wearing a cropped white t-shirt and the same pair of lacy panties she’d been wearing in the picture she’d sent meer hours ago. She greeted Carmy with an overly seductive look. He swallowed and looked her up and down as she reached out to hook a finger in a belt loop of the Dickies he’d worn to work that day. She pulled him into her house quickly, closing the door behind him. She pushed Carmy against the closed door and pressed her lips to his. Carmy was cautious but felt it melt away when Selena’s fingers tangled in the roots of his hair; her lips were different from yours, but the desire behind them was intoxicating. Carmy felt a chill go down his spine when his hands moved to Selena’s hips to pull her body closer to his.

She ended the heated make-out session and pulled Carmy upstairs and down a short hallway. Before entering what Carmy assumed to be Selena’s bedroom, he noticed the framed pictures on the wall. They were the typical pictures you’d see in a family home, although one stuck out: Selena in a princess-y white dress next to a tall man in military regalia. “You’re married?” Carmy questioned.

Selena quickly shook her head, “I’m divorced. My husband cheated on me after I had our kid- he was a shitty husband, but he’s a great Dad.” Carmy nodded, and a wave of guilt crashed over him. He was being a shitty husband.

Once in her bedroom, Selena took charge and pushed Carmy onto her bed. She straddled Carmy’s hips and yanked at the hem of his shirt. He followed her lead and allowed her to remove his shirt and throw it across the room before putting his hands on her face to bring her lips to his. Selena pushed her tongue into Carmy’s mouth and felt herself gag at the overpowering taste of tobacco and artificial spearmint- how she hadn’t tasted it before was unbeknownst to her. She pushed his forearms down to the mattress beneath their bodies and moved to kiss down his jaw. Carmy moaned softly when her lips pressed against his collarbone.

Selena sat on her heels as she pulled Carmy’s pants down his thighs. Carmy swallowed and closed his eyes when he felt Selena’s hand grasp the base of cock. As she stroked him and licked at his tip, both of them realized that he wasn’t… excited to be there with her. Selena huffed and stood up abruptly, “Am I not hot enough for you or something!” she angrily stared down at Carmy, crossing her arms over her chest. Carmy sighed and pulled his boxers and pants up in one swift movement.

“I can’t do this,” he said, avoiding eye contact at all costs. He stood up and grabbed his shirt from the floor before quickly exiting her bedroom. He couldn’t make out what Selena was yelling as he exited her house, the only thing on his mind was you and Mia.

Carmy pulled his shirt on as he got into the driver’s seat of his car. He saw his phone in the cup holder where he’d left it. The screen was illuminated with texts you’d sent between his arrival at Selena’s house and now.

Where are you?? I’m sorry for blowing up at you We should probably talk Can’t sleep without you… come home soon, Carm I love you, even if I’m mad at you

“Fuck.�� Carmy laughed as he turned on his car. He pushed a hand through his hair and quickly turned on the radio before turning his phone off. He tossed it in the passenger’s seat before quickly driving down the suburban street lit with the occasional street light. Carmy couldn’t go home to you right now. He needed to get his head straight. Did he just cheat on you? He didn’t have sex with Selena- he couldn’t have even if he’d wanted to. Carmy drove through the downtown streets of Chicago for a couple of hours before deciding to go to work when he saw it was almost 4 AM.

Carmy unlocked the door to the kitchen and turned on the lights before walking to his locker. He changed his shirt before going into the office to try and get a couple hours of sleep before the produce delivery came in.

The night came and went, you couldn’t sleep. While you’d been upset with Carmy’s comments the night before, you’d grown accustomed to him sleeping beside you. When you’d rolled over that morning to see him missing, dread and guilt washed over you. You checked your phone to see he hadn’t texted you back. What if he was dead? He was tired when he’d come home from work last night. What if he fell asleep behind the wheel and crashed his car or drove into the Chicago River? You groaned and decided to call off work that day. The last thing you wanted to do was go into the office to edit some documentary about butterfly migration.

As the morning went by, you felt your anxiety increase. You still hadn’t heard from Carmy and you couldn’t shake the intrusive thoughts of him being hurt and alone. “Okay Mia. We’re goin’ to Grandma’s house!” you faked your enthusiasm hoping Mia hadn’t picked up on your energy, or notice that Carmy hadn’t been home all morning. You shot Carmy another text and threw your phone into your purse before picking Mia up out of her highchair. She squirmed in your arms as you unlocked your car from the front porch.

After strapping Mia into her car seat and offering her a pacifier, which was promptly spit out, you laughed and kissed her cheek before walking around to the other side of the car. You took a deep breath as you sat in the driver’s seat for a moment; Mia happily babbled to herself as you pushed your hands through your hair. You grabbed your phone out of your bag and texted your Mom, asking if the two of you could come by. She immediately responded, demanding you get there ASAP. You shook your head as a soft smile came to your face.

As you pulled into your Mom’s driveway, you saw her step onto the porch. She waved excitedly and came to help with Mia as you turned the car off. “There’s my girls!” she smiled as you exited the car. “Hey, Mommy.” You greeted her and watched as she walked around the car to get Mia from her car seat. Mia squealed as your Mom peppered kisses on her cheek.

“Let’s get this little princess inside. Coffee?” she offered. You nodded and followed her inside, locking the car before entering your childhood home. As the two of you entered the kitchen, you couldn’t help but notice the framed pictures on the wall. You and your siblings throughout the years, pictures of your nieces and nephews, when you saw a picture from your and Carmy’s wedding, your breath hitched. Your Mom noticed immediately. She balanced Mia on her waist and shot you a look, “Are you okay, peanut?”

You looked up to see her face softened with concern. You shook your head, trying to hold back your tears. “Uh, Carmy and I got in a fight last night… he left and didn’t come home… now he isn’t answering his phone. I'm tempted to go down to the restaurant, but I don’t like mixing our relationship problems in with all that—I just—I just feel like such a fuckin’ failure, Mommy.” you confessed as you quickly blinked away the tears that had welled up in your eyes. “Hey. You’re not a failure. Get in here.” your Mom cooed, gesturing for you to hug her with her free arm. You frowned and closed the space between the two of you.

As you rested your head on her shoulder, little fingers pulled at your hair. You laughed, feeling a little bit better. You looked at Mia to have her hand brushed against your forehead. “Thank you, princess.” You grinned, breaking away from the hug before taking the baby from your Mom’s arms. You held her close to your body as you watched your Mom pour coffee into two matching bunny mugs.

“Do you want me to watch Mia for a couple days?” you shook your head at your Mom’s initial offer. “Mom, I couldn’t—" you were interrupted by your Mom insisting that it would be no problem and that she wanted to spend more time with her granddaughter before she could talk back. You sighed and reluctantly agreed. The two of you hung out for a bit before you decided to go home and wait for Carmy.

Natalie was doing paperwork in the office when her phone buzzed.

Carmy’s at the restaurant, right?

Yea Is everything okay?

Yeah He just isn’t answering his phone

Want me to kick his ass? I might be pregnant, but I can take him

Lol Just annoy him for me but like subtly…

She laughed at the text chain and slipped her phone into her pocket as she got up from her chair. She poked her head into the kitchen to see Carmy prepping vegetables for the night's special menu. “Bear? Can you come in here for a sec?” she asked, disguising her intention well enough not to raise suspicion in him. He looked up at her to say, “Give me a minute,” before returning to his chopping.

Natalie nodded and leaned against the desk. A moment later, Carmy came in, wiping his hands against his apron. “Yo. You good?” he questioned, looking at the apathetic look on his sister’s face. She shrugged, “Why aren’t you talking to your wife?”

Carmy rolled his eyes, “Sugar. It’s really none of your business.”

Natalie clicked her tongue and gave Carmy ‘the look.’ The one that said she knew something was going on, and if he wouldn’t tell her, she’d find out one way or another. Carmy sighed and closed the door to the office before leaning against it, “Okay. I fucked up.” he scoffed, pushing a hand through his hair. Natalie shot him a perplexed look and crossed her arms over her chest. “Y/N and I haven’t… since the baby came,” Carmy said, gesturing toward Natalie, hoping he wouldn’t have to delve too far into his sex life with her. Natalie grimaced at the thought and nodded softly, signaling Carmy to continue explaining the last 24 hours, “So last night was the boiling point, I guess? Um- I uh- I blew up at her a little bit and uh left.”

Carmy scratched the back of his neck questioning himself, should he tell his sister the full truth of what he did? He knew she’d tell you in a heartbeat. Maybe he could convince her to let him tell you before she took the lead. “I uh… I sorta- I sorta fuck.” he laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. He stared at the floor, biting the inside of his cheek. “Natalie, I cheated on her.”

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#the bear #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto one shot #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto angst #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmy x reader #carmy smut #carmy berzatto x female reader

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m2ok · 1 year

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Found Family

Simon “Ghost” Riley X M!reader

A/N: I accidentally deleted the ask for this fic 😭so (🐝) if you’re reading this I apologize I didn’t mean to delete it, but here you are my love 🫶

You didn’t typically pick your husband up from his stationed base, most times he insisted on flying home, but today was different. Simon had been gone for so long this time that you just couldn’t stand waiting for him to get off the plane only to take another hour to get to your shared house.

You had told him the previous week that you would be coming for him, he of course insisted that it wasn’t necessary and that he could just fly like always, but you were firm in your decision. You made it very clear that you were going to come get him, no arguments.

While you were beyond giddy to grab your husband, and meet his team, Simon was feeling the exact opposite. No one knew he was married, and to a man no less, they had no idea he had a partner at all. It wasn’t necessarily a secret, but he was a private man and they understood that. Plus he was worried that if more people knew it would put you in danger, and he wouldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t.

He was also worried about what you thought of them, what they thought of you. He knew it was a superficial thought, you’d barely ever interact with them, but he couldn’t help it. You were the love of his life, and his team was like his family. He didn’t want there to be tension between any of you for some weird reason.

He didn’t have much time to think as he saw a car drive up the dirt road, your car. He didn’t tell the boys about your arrival, in fact he planned on just throwing his bags in the trunk and leaving. You, however, were not going to let that happen.

You parked the car before swinging the door open, a wide smile on your face as the team came out to see who this new person was. You could tell they were on edge, their faces hardened and all their arms crossed against their chest as they watched you.

Much to their surprise, Ghost walked right on over to you and put his hands on your waist.

“Did you have to come here? I told you I could’ve taken the plane like normal” he grumbled, his hands rubbing little circles on your hips as you tilted your head to look up at him.

“Obviously I had to come. For one I missed you” you placed your own hands on his waist, giving it a little squeeze

“And for two I wanted to finally meet your team! I think I’ve been kept a secret for long enough”

“They’re a bunch of bastards, ya got plenty of friends at home why do ya need more?”

You just put your hand on his masked face, pushing him away from you gently as you made your way over to the team.

Their once defensive stance turned to one of confusion, Soap staring at you with wide eyes while Price had a shit eating little smirk on his face. Gaz was glancing between you and Ghost, still trying to figuring out what was going on.

You were already bouncing on your toes as you stuck your hand out to greet them.

“hi! I’m y/n. You must be Captain Price” you said as the man slowly grabbed yours, giving it a quick shake before letting go.

“Yeah, kid, I am. Who are you?” He questioned, one eyebrow raised.

“Oh-right. Duh” you said with a little laugh.

“I’m Simons husband” you said simply, watching as their mouths dropped open, their jaws practically on the floor.

“Husband?” Soap asked, to which you responded with a nod.

“But how-? You’re so” he gestured to you vaguely

“And he’s so” he gave the masked man a scowl

“Yeah well it wasn’t easy, he thought I was a spy at first sent to ‘infiltrate the team and take it down from the inside’ you should’ve seen the way he-“

“That’s enough” Simon said, quickly interrupting you before you could continue the story and embarrass him even more.

You just laughed it off, moving on to shake Gaz’s hand

“Kyle, right?” You asked to which he gave a little nod

You then, finally turned to soap, giving him a little smile

“And you must be Mr.MacTavish, I’ve heard a lot about you” you said as he shook your hand

“Mostly good things, don’t worry”

“Mostly?” He asked. He liked you already, Simon could tell. He didn’t know if that was a good thing, or an awful one.

You just gave him a wink before dropping his hand “I’ve heard a lot about all of you, honestly. I won’t get into it though. Not with Mr.grumpy around at least” you gestured towards your husband.

“Alright alright you met them, can we get going now?” He asked, trying to gently tug you back towards the car. He wanted to go home, wanted to cuddle up with you and have all of your attention.

“Aww don’t take him away so soon!” Soap protested “we just met the lad! At least let us get him something to eat after he drove all that way”

Simon didn’t even get a chance to reply as Soap took your arm and nearly dragged you inside, the rest of the team following close behind and leaving Ghost alone.

With a shake of his head and a grumble he made his way into the base, headed towards the common room where he knew they’d most likely be.

He nearly walked in, stopping himself as he saw you surrounded by the boys. You were telling stories about him at home, how sweet he was when he wasn’t at work, and while he wanted to stop you he didn’t have it in him too.

Not with the way the team was laughing, or how widely you were smiling. He leaned against the doorway, arms over his chest as he just…watched. He had his own little smile under the mask, content in just watching the people he loved most bonding.

He supposed he should’ve introduced you sooner, the team seemed to love you already, and he couldn’t help but feel bad that he blocked you off from this for so long.

With a soft sigh he walked over, taking a spot next to you as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and just leaned his head back on the couch. He didn’t have to leave right away, he could give you a little longer to have fun.

Letting you meet the team was a big step for him, and you were grateful that he took it. It was the last part of his life you were let into, and it was scary for him. It was just another thing that could make you want to leave him, but here you were. Having the time of your life with his little family.

He loved you, with his entire heart and soul. This just proved that you loved him exactly the same.

As always, requests are open

#cod modern warfare #cod x reader #cod fanfic #cod imagine #cod x male reader #male reader #simon riley x male reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x gn reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x reader #ghost #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x male reader

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fanfictionalraven · 15 days

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Dream Warriors Chapter 2

Title: Dream Warriors Chapter 2

Summary: Dean suggests a possible explanation for the reader’s dream. The couple and Sam head out on a potential case.

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, other original characters

Word Count: 3,992

Warnings: Angst, mentions of a miscarriage, canon typical gore

Author’s Note: If miscarriages are triggering, I would proceed with caution.

Read Chapter 1 here.

“So, let me get this straight,” Dean starts, pouring a cup of coffee. He’d just gotten you calmed down enough to move to the kitchen of the bunker. While you’d filled him in on the dream you’d had, he fixed a pot of coffee. He brings two mugs over, setting one in front of you, before sitting across from you at the table. “No monsters. Our families were alive. You were married to some douche of a professor. Had a baby girl with said douche. We were just friends. And you’d just found out that your husband was cheating on you?” You nod before taking a long drink from the mug. Setting it back down, you sigh.

“It felt so real though. And I believed this, my life, was a dream,” you tell him, staring at the mug in your hands. Dean reaches over, his hands wrapping around your own. You’re fighting not to lose control as the memories of the dream rush back to you. “My family was alive, Dean. I – I got to hug them again. And – and my brother was married and they had a son.” Dean squeezes your hands as the tears overwhelm you again. “And Ella…”

“The baby,” he says softly. You nod, another sob escaping you.

“She was so beautiful, Dean. So beautiful and perfect,” you cry. He gets up from his chair and makes his way around the table quickly, pulling you into his arms as you break down.

“Of course she was,” he whispers, kissing your hair. You continue to cry into his shoulder for a few minutes before finally calming down a little. You look up at him, a few tears still falling. He smiles softly as he wipes at your cheeks gently.

“She called you Bean. And she had your eyes,” you tell him. He raises an eyebrow at you and you shake your head. “Well, not your eyes. They couldn’t have been. They were green like yours though.” He nods then runs his fingers into your hair.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say we know what caused this,” he says. You look at him, curiously. “You know what today is, right?” He asks. You shake your head slightly as you try to recall the date. Early May maybe. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks.

“Oh,” you breathe. Dean nods again.

“Today was your due date,” he says. The tears well up again quickly. Dean sighs and wraps his arms around you once more. He kisses your hair as he rubs your back soothingly. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I’m so sorry.” You shake your head, pulling away from him.

“Don’t. Stop,” you tell him, wiping at your eyes. He frowns as he watches you.

“Maybe – maybe you should see someone,” he says. You stare at him for a moment.

“What? Like a shrink?” You ask, disbelieving. He shrugs slightly. “And tell them what, Dean? ‘Three months ago, a demon attacked me, and I miscarried our baby. I’ve sorta had a hard time dealing with it.’ No.”

“Y/N,” Dean starts but you cut him off with a sharp look.

“No,” you repeat. He runs his hands over his face in exasperation as Sam comes into the kitchen now, his open laptop in his hands.

“Hey, guys,” he says before stopping in the door, sensing the tension in the room. “Everything okay?” He asks. You look at him and nod as Dean rises to his feet.

“What ya got, Sam?” You ask. He glances at Dean before speaking again.

“Ummm – potential vamp case about 6 hours from here,” he says. You nod and stand from your chair. Dean looks at you and frowns.

“Are you sure you’re ready to get back out there?” He asks. You look at him and roll your eyes.

“I’m fine, Dean. Ready to kill something,” you tell him, heading for the hall quickly. You hadn’t been on a hunt since you’d found out you were pregnant about 8 months ago, staying back at the bunker and doing research when the guys called. You might be a little rusty but the last thing you wanted to do was sit around the bunker and think about that dream.

You knew Dean was right. Your subconscious had created an alternate reality as a way to escape the inevitable pain of today. You and Dean shouldn’t be at the bunker right now. You were supposed to be in the hospital, giving birth to a beautiful baby girl. One who, you were certain, would have looked just like little Ella from your dream. The two of you had been nervous, of course, about bringing a baby into this life but Dean was determined you could make it work. And you had for a while.

You had gone out for a simple grocery run to the local market. The bunker was running dangerously low on the necessary essentials; coffee, pie, pickles. Broad daylight in a crowded parking lot, a man sunk a knife into your pregnant belly. His eyes flashed black as they met yours before he ran away, other shoppers rushing to your aid. An ambulance was called and you were taken to the hospital but it had been too late…

“Y/N,” Dean’s voice cuts through the memories. You blink back tears as you look over at him. He sighs and makes his way across the room to where you’re standing. Shaking your head quickly, you walk over to the closet, avoiding him.

“Which suit do you want to take? The black one or the blue one?” You ask, flipping between the two. His hands come to rest on your shoulders and you immediately tense up.

“You don’t have to go,” he says. You swallow thickly and nod, turning to face him now.

“I need to go, Dean. I can’t stay here by myself. Not today,” you tell him, your eyes landing on the door to the room across the hall. He follows your gaze and frowns before nodding.

“Okay. But – will you at least stay in the room? You haven’t been out in a while and I – I can’t risk losing you too,” he says, his voice quiet. His pleading eyes meet yours and you nod your head once in response. He lets out a breath before stepping away from you. “The blue one’s fine.”

Five and a half hours later, Dean pulls the Impala into the parking lot of a motel. It was a typical stay for the three of you; not too shabby but definitely not five stars either. Sam climbs out of the backseat to go into the office. He leans down to your open window and looks in at the two of you.

“Two rooms?” He asks. You hold back a frown as you look at your hands in your lap.

“Just the one,” Dean tells him. The younger brother glances between the two of you before rising to his full height and making his way to the office door.

Before the accident, you and Dean always had your own room. It wasn’t long after the two of you had gotten together that Sam made the suggestion. You and Dean were very much in love and expressed that love regularly (and loudly according to Sam). It was really no surprise when you’d ended up pregnant. But ever since you’d lost the baby, Dean had barely touched you. Kisses were few and far between. You fell asleep facing opposite walls. He didn’t even look at you the same anymore. And you couldn’t blame him.

“Y/N?” Dean’s voice breaks through your thoughts. His hand reaches across the front seat of the car and clasps one of yours. You pull it away almost immediately.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, reflexively.

“You’re crying,” he says, his voice concerned. You shake your head and wipe at the stray tear quickly.

“I’m fine, Dean. Sam’s done,” you say, pointing to the other Winchester as he starts back to the car. You slip out before Dean can say anything else and Sam tosses the room key to you.

“Fifteen,” he says. The two brothers get the bags from the trunk of the car as you unlock the door to the room. You step inside and take a quick inventory. It was nearly identical to the hundreds you’d stayed in before. Nothing remarkable. Sam and Dean come in behind you and Dean deposits both of your bags onto the far bed.

“Hit the morgue first,” Dean says, mostly to himself, as he pulls his fed suit from his bag. You glance at Sam as he does the same before making your way across the room to your own bag. You quickly pull out the black pencil skirt and white button-up shirt you always took on hunts and turn for the bathroom. “What do you think you’re doing?” Dean asks, not looking up from his bag.

“I’m getting ready to go to the morgue,” you tell him casually. He sighs and you watch his hands clench into fists.

“We agreed you’d stay in the room, remember?” He asks. You glance at Sam before taking a step towards Dean.

“It’s just the coroner’s office,” you tell him, your voice soft and almost pleading. He looks up and you can see that he’s torn. Sam clears his throat from the other side of the room.

“You two go. I’ll see what I can dig up on the town,” he suggests. Dean shakes his head slightly and Sam laughs. “You know you can’t stop her.” You watch as something crosses Dean’s face briefly and for a moment you think he might lock you in the bathroom.

“99% of the time, nothing ever even happens at the coroner’s office, Dean,” you say. He lets out a small, sarcastic laugh and nods.

“It’s that 1% I’m worried about,” he says before sighing. He reaches into his bag and pulls a familiar fold of leather before tossing it to you. You catch it and raise an eyebrow at him. Unfolding the leather, you find the fake FBI badge of your favorite alias. “I know you better than you think I do,” Dean says, still riffling through his bag. A wide smile spreads across your face before you take the few steps towards Dean. You place a hesitant kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you,” you tell him. His eyes meet yours and he smiles a small smile. Not long ago, you both would have taken the opportunity to steal a kiss, a quick nonverbal reminder of your love. Instead, you turn quickly, moving into the bathroom to get ready.

Within an hour, you and Dean are pulling up in front of the small police station. He parks the car outside and the two of you make your way to the door. You’re met by the stereotypical small-town sheriff, a rather large man, close to his retirement for sure. He looks the two of you over briefly.

“Feds?” He asks, crossing his arms. Simultaneously, you and Dean pull your badges from your pockets and flash them.

“I’m Agent Wayne. This is my partner, Agent Prince,” Dean introduces, gesturing towards you. The sheriff nods his head once in acknowledgment.

“Sheriff Donald Anderson. You lost?” He asks. Dean lets out a laugh and runs a hand over his jaw. You glance at him before smiling at Sheriff Anderson.

“We heard you had a few strange cases pop-up. Just wanted to see if we could help out any,” you interject, your voice sweet. Dean tenses up next to you, but you ignore him, continuing to smile at the sheriff as his eyes roam over you once more.

“Well…” He pauses, considering. “A few fresh eyes probably wouldn’t hurt.”

“Could we see the bodies?” You ask. He nods and offers to show you the way. Dean rolls his eyes once the old man turns his back and looks down at you. You smirk at him as you take a step to follow Anderson. “I don’t wear this skirt cause it’s comfortable, ya know,” you tell him in a hushed tone. His eyes run down your exposed legs and he smiles before following you.

Sheriff Anderson leads the two of you down to the basement while filling you in on the details of the case, most of which you already knew from reading the reports. Three dead Jane Doe’s all killed in the same fashion, throats slit and blood drained.

Stepping into the cooler room, you immediately notice a covered female body lying on the table. A young woman, petite and blond with striking green and blue streaks in her hair, is sitting at the desk in the corner.

“Kaylee, this is Agent Prince, and ugh…Agent…” Anderson trails off, looking at Dean.

“Wayne,” Dean tells him, forcing a smile. The sheriff nods and looks back over at the medical examiner.

“Right, right. Wayne. FBI. They’re here to look into the Jane Doe cases,” he tells her. The woman nods and begins to shuffle through some papers on her desk. Sheriff Anderson excuses himself as you and Dean make your way towards the table. Kaylee rises from her desk and comes over, three files in her hands. She hands them over to you and you set two aside, opening the first. Dean looks at Kaylee, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“No I.D.’s yet?” He asks. She shakes her head, pushing her hair back from her face.

“The investigators are looking into missing persons in the local towns but nothing’s turned up,” she tells him. You read over the description of wounds. No defensive marks. Single slice to the throat. Circular incision (?) in the abdomen.

“What’s this?” You ask, pointing the incision comment out to her. She nods and reaches for the sheet, pulling it back. You frown as you take in the poor women’s neck before looking at her stomach. Just above her navel is a perfectly circular hole.

“All three have them,” she tells you both. You look at Dean and he merely shrugs, pulling his phone out to send a picture to Sam. You turn your attention back to the file and skim the rest of it quickly. Three words catch your attention. Fetus heart missing. The file nearly slips from your hand. Dean looks over at your sharp intake of breath.

“What?” He asks. You set the file down with the other three slowly, your hands trembling.

“She was pregnant?” You ask Kaylee. The coroner nods, a sad look in her eyes.

“They all were. And all three of the fetus’ hearts were missing. The police kept that from the newspaper. Thought it was a little too gruesome,” she explains. Dean holds an arm out, reaching to steady you as you take a step backwards.

“I – I’m gonna go call Sam,” you tell Dean, turning for the door quickly. “Get whatever else we need.” You push your way through the door and start up the stairs to the main floor of the building. Stopping about halfway up, you sit down. You squeeze your eyes closed and take a few deep breaths, trying to keep the walls from closing in on you. Your ears start to ring and it isn’t long before you’re sobbing for the second time that day.

A moment later, the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs draws your attention. Through teary eyes, you can just make out Dean’s form as he takes a seat on the stairs next to you. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close into his side. Your head comes to rest on his shoulder and he presses a kiss to your hair.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. If I had known, I wouldn’t have let you come,” he says, his voice soft and comforting. You shake your head slightly, unable to form any coherent words at the moment. “You wanna go back home?” Sitting up quickly to look at him, you shake your head again. He smiles gently and reaches up, wiping at your cheeks. “I can take you home then come back and help Sam finish the case up.” You swallow thickly and take a shaky breath.

“No. I – I want to stay and – and help,” you tell him. He nods and leans in, brushing his lips against your forehead gently.

“Then let’s get back to the room and see what Sam’s got,” he says. You nod and wipe the remnants of the tears from your cheek.

“Do I look like I’ve been crying?” You ask. He smiles and shakes his head.

“Nah,” he says. You let out laugh as you rise to your feet.

“You’re a terrible liar,” you tell him. He stands as well and takes your hand firmly in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I’m a professional liar. I’ve just never been able to lie to you,” he says. You manage another short laugh and look down at your hands as he pulls you the rest of the way up the stairs. Biting your lip, you carefully pull your hand out of his. He looks at you as you reach the door.

“Probably lose my pull with the sheriff if he sees us together,” you explain before slipping through the door. Dean sighs and shakes his head as he follows.

The two of you quickly get copies of the police reports before heading back to the motel, stopping at a diner to pick up some dinner. You unlock the door and push it open for Dean to go inside.

“Hey,” Sam says, glancing up at the two of you as walk in together. He’s sat at the table in the corner with his laptop and John’s journal open in front of him. Dean sets the bags on the table.

“Got anything?” Dean asks, pulling out two burgers. You take one of them before reaching into the other bag and getting Sam’s salad out. He smiles at you as he takes it and nods, switching screens on his laptop. He turns it around towards the two of you to reveal an ancient painting depicting a creature of some sort that was seemingly split in half.

“I think it might be a Manananggal,” he says. You and Dean both look at him, raising an eyebrow. “It’s kind of like a vampire from the Philippines.”

“Seriously?” Dean asks, pulling his suit coat off and tossing it onto a chair. Sam nods, spinning his laptop back around.

“Yea. Lore says that they look human but split in half. Their upper torso then flies with bat-like wings during the night to prey on victims. And they’re meal of choice?” Sam trails off, leaning back in his chair. Dean frowns.

“Let me guess…fetal hearts?” He asks. You sigh and sit in the chair across from him, kicking your heels off. Sam nods opening the lid on his salad.

“They apparently have these long, tube-like tongues that can suck them out,” he says. You frown and set your burger down on the table.

“There went my appetite,” you say. Dean smiles a little and pats your shoulder before leaning back against the window sill.

“What else?” He asks his brother. Sam shrugs slightly.

“Ugh, they typically prey on sleeping victims, which would explain the lack of defensive wounds. They do feed on blood as well,” he tells you both. You run your hands over your face.

“Does it say how we can kill it?” You ask. The younger Winchester nods, switching tabs on his laptop.

“It does, actually. Ummmm – the lower half is the more vulnerable one. It says sprinkling salt, garlic, or ash on the lower half can keep the upper half from reattaching and it would die in the sunlight,” he reads. Dean nods, taking a big bite of his burger.

“Sounds easy enough,” he says, his mouth full. You pick at the bun of your own burger, still looking at Sam.

“Now how do we find out who it is?” You ask. Sam’s face falls slightly.

“That’s where I’m stumped. It just says that they’re usually, and I quote, ‘scary, hideous, females’,” he says. You sigh and shake your head, picking up the file with the police reports in it.

“Well we have to find it. And figure out where it’s taking these women from. Three pregnant women up and disappear? Someone has to be looking for them,” you say, opening the file. Dean reaches over and takes the file from you.

“It’s late. You should eat and try to get some sleep,” he tells you. You frown at him. “Y/N, please.”

“I’m not hungry, Dean,” you assure him, reaching for the file again. He pulls it away quickly. “Dean.”

“This will still be here in the morning. We aren’t going to make any major breakthroughs tonight. It’s been a long day. It was a long car ride and then earlier at the coroner’s office. Plus, that dream you had,” he says. You shake your head again, rising to your feet quickly. “Where are you going?” He asks.

“To bed apparently,” you snap at him as you make your way across the room. Grabbing a pair of shorts and one of Dean’s old shirts from your bag, you turn and go into the bathroom. You look at your reflection in the mirror and sigh. You’d already cried off most of your makeup so you wash your face quickly with some warm water.

You begin to undress slowly, taking your time. You run a hand down your abdomen and over the scar across your stomach. The nurses had told you what products to apply to it to help it heal but you’d never used any of them. A part of you didn’t want it to heal, afraid you might forget if it did. You take a deep breath, determined not to cry again and slip into the clothes you’d brought in with you.

As you’re standing over the sink, putting some toothpaste onto your toothbrush, a wave of exhaustion rushes over you. The toothbrush falls from your hand as you brace yourself against the sink to keep from falling over. Your mind begins to fog over and you swear you can hear a baby crying. Shaking your head, you reach over and pull the bathroom door open before stepping back into the room. Dean looks over and rises to his feet before starting across the room towards you.

“Y/N,” he starts but you hold up a shaky hand, cutting him off.

“Did either of you hear a baby crying?” You ask, causing Dean to stop dead in his tracks. The two brothers exchange brief looks before Dean closes the distance between the two of you, taking your arms into his hands gently.

“You okay?” He asks. You look at him as the exhaustion slips up on you again and frown, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“I – I think you were right. I – I must just be – be tired,” you tell him. He nods and slips an arm around your waist, carefully leading you to the bed. He helps you under the blanket as your eyelids quickly become too heavy to keep open any longer. The last thing you feel are his lips against your forehead as the baby’s cries begin to get louder and louder…

“Y/N, Ella’s awake,” you hear a man calling out to you. Ella’s awake. She’s crying. You rub at your eyes as you slowly sit up in the bed before looking at the baby monitor on the bedside table. The door to the master bathroom opens and Jackson steps out.

“It’s about time you woke up. She’s been crying for five minutes,” he says. You stare at him for a moment, trying to process everything. You were back in your bed. Your bed in your house. Not at the bunker. There is no bunker. There are no monsters. There’s just a beautiful house. A beautiful daughter. And a cheating husband.

Read Chapter 3 here.

Forever Tags: @roseblue373

Dream Warriors: @aylacavebear @winharry @djs8891 @suckitands33 @rickgrimeswifeu @deans-spinster-witch @jackles010378 @foxyjwls007 @alisyacsa @cutiesarah @urinternetmom @justrealizedimmascifygurl l @kr804573

#fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #reader insert #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #dream warriors

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cambion-companion · 1 year

Note

hii could you write abotu aemond and the reader being togehter and one night while theyre having sex, they almost get caught and the reader stars freaking out (cause theyre not married) and he calms her down

Hi guys, yes, I am merging these two to flesh out the oneshot a lil bit. I had one more request of Aemond seeing you with Helaena's kiddos but couldn't find it.

Word count: 1300

Aemond x f!reader | light smut | minors don't interact | baby-hungry Aemond hehe

“Jaehaera, come put the roof on the tower.” You coaxed the little toddler back over to where you were building a toy castle on the floor.

Jaehaera and her brother, Jaehaerys, were only three years old, the twins both had the trademark white hair and violet eyes of the Targaryen family. You served as handmaiden to their mother, Helaena, and often found yourself entertaining the small children.

You laughed fondly as Jaehaera toddled back over to you, collapsing into your lap and reaching for the wooden roof you still held. You gave it to her, and she immediately raised it to her open mouth.

“It goes right here, honey.” You guided her attention gently back to the fixture you had made together, placing the roof upon its rightful place, thus finishing your work.

“Dragon time!” Jaehaerys shouted, taking the small dragon sculpture in hand and flying it toward the castle.

“Oh no!” Jaehaera hid her face behind her tiny hands, peeking through fingers as her brother demolished the structure you’d just set up.

Jaehaerys mimed the dragon munching on citizens and breathing fire, and, after a moment’s hesitation, Jaehaera joined in, the two of them giggling madly. You leaned your weight back on your hands, chuckling softly and shaking your head at the typical behavior. “You will both grow to be fine dragon riders one day. Perhaps we will work on your lenience with the common-folk next.”

Soft laughter from the doorway alerted you to Aemond’s presence, how long he had been leaning against the doorframe you couldn’t guess but he was looking fondly at the scene before him. “If you think Targaryens are merciful, you haven’t been paying attention, Y/N.”

“Hi uncle Aemond!” The twins hardly looked up, still too caught up in their playtime to pay him much attention.

“Your father is a peaceful king, and a Targaryen.” You retorted, noticing Aemond’s hands flex slightly at the mention of Viserys.

He bit his retort back, however, watching as you urged the children to begin helping clean up the mess they’d made. You stood, smoothing your skirts, and Jaehaera latched herself to your leg knowing it was time for you to depart. “I want you to stay.” She whined, burying her small face into the fabric of your dress. Jaehaerys, in his turn, reached up on tip toes to tug at your hand. “You can play with the dragon this time if you stay.”

“I’m sorry little ones, it’s time for me to go now. I’ll be back before bedtime.” You extricated yourself from their grasp with the help of the nursemaid, who’d just entered the chamber to relieve you for a while.

You kissed each child on the top of their head, untying the apron you’d been wearing and leaving it folded upon the sofa. Aemond still waited by the door, and you approached him curiously. “Can I help with something, my prince?”

In response he smiled, turning to offer you his arm, which you took. The two of you walked outside and down the empty corridor. “How were they today?” Dropping pretense of formality, Aemond placed a quick kiss to your temple, moving to clasp your hand in his.

“Better, they’re opening up to me more now.” You squeezed your fingers around his. “It took Jaehaera a little longer to trust me, they’re very shy children.”

“They adore you.” Aemond opened the door to his chambers, leading you into the room and shutting it behind you.

He pulled you into an abrupt kiss, his lips molding against your own, surprising you with the sudden intensity. “Seeing you with them…” He trailed off, dragging his long fingers down the sides of your neck, kissing you again.

Aemond backed you up until your legs hit the bed, moving to press himself against you as you collapsed onto the mattress.

“Aemond…” You breathed into his mouth, feeling his tongue tracing your bottom lip.

He pulled away just enough to look into your face, his violet eye burning with lust. His long hair tickled your chest as you gazed at him, caged in by his arms.

“I want you to bear my children, Y/N.”

“Then you need to become by husband, Aemond.”

“I fully intend to.” He nuzzled against you, sucking bruises onto your neck.

You arched into him, carding your fingers through his silken hair. “When?”

Aemond raised himself onto his forearms, hovering above you, his mouth curling into a small smile. “As soon as possible. I’d wed you tomorrow given the chance.”

You felt him shift, his hand lifting your skirts and trailing up the inside of your leg. Almost subconsciously, you opened further to his touch. He fisted the fabric of your dress, bunching it around your waist, cool air causing your exposed skin to prickle.

“I am not a man of half-truths and empty promises, Y/N.” Aemond had moved down your body, ghosting his mouth up to the apex of your legs. You shivered in anticipation.

“I intend to have you, as a lover, as a wife, and as a mother to my children.” Aemond hooked a finger on the band of your underclothes, placing a hot kiss to your center, mouthing at the thin fabric that still covered you.

You moved your hips against him, seeking friction, feeling the heat of arousal begin to seep from you.

“Hmm.” Aemond pulled at the fabric of your garment, you raised your knees as he eased it off your body. He took your legs in both hands, spreading you wider for him, looking down upon you, clearly enraptured. “You’re already so wet for me.” His tongue flicked out to wet his lips before lowering his head back to you, licking a warm stripe up your slit. A jolt of electricity shot to your core, you let out a mewling whimper, a hand tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as he suckled at your clit.

A knock on the door sent panic straight to your heart, the two of you jumping apart.

“Aemond, are you in there?” It was the voice of Queen Alicent, causing your blood to run cold as you looked for a place to hide.

“Yes, mother! Just a moment.” You had to give credit to your lover, his voice was as cool and calm as ever, giving away nothing considering he’d just had his head buried between your legs.

He motioned you to hide in the wardrobe by the bed, and you slipped into the darkness gratefully, clutching your discarded undergarment to your heaving bosom.

You heard Aemond open the door, exchanging a few hushed words with his mother. You couldn’t understand much of what was said but heard the name of Aemond’s brother, Daeron, who was currently living in Oldtown.

The door snapped shut once more, silence fell, making you wonder if Aemond had left his chambers with Alicent.

“You can come out now, little mouse.”

He was standing pensively by the oaken table, hand resting upon the polished wood surface. He looked to you as you hopped out of the wardrobe, his lips twitched as he noticed the underwear still in your hand.

“That was far too close, Aemond. It was your mother as well…” You felt rather faint, lowering yourself to sit upon the mattress.

He crossed the room to stand in front of you, taking your hands, rubbing his thumb along your clammy skin. “She wishes to meet with me, to discuss retrieving my younger brother from Oldtown.” He kissed your forehead briefly, gazing down at you with his lilac eye. “I will also tell her of my intentions to wed you.”

Aemond pulled on his overcoat, preparing to leave. “Don’t stray too far, my lady.” He turned back in the doorway. “I’ve not finished with you.”

You squeezed your thighs together, feeling bare beneath your heavy skirts.

He noticed, his pupil dilating at your reaction to his words. “You are not to touch yourself while I am gone. I will be the only one bringing you pleasure tonight.”

You nodded weakly, already feeling a pool of heat reawaken in your belly. “Don’t be too long.”

“Hmm, I shan’t be. I wouldn’t my betrothed left wanting.” Aemond gave you one last smoldering look before exiting the room, closing the heavy door behind him.

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wntrs0ldier · 1 year

Text

An Offer · part 02

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 3,4k warnings: typical mafia (dark themes, language, violence, etc.), Brock Rumlow

<previous part | next part> | series masterlist

series summary: When your father dies, the only thing you can do for your family and the empire he built, is to marry a powerful man.

chapter sneak peek: Bucky’s jaw tightened, his nostrils flared, and his chest grew bigger as he took a deep breath through the nose. His mouth curved into a bitter smile. He stared at Brock for a while longer, then moved away, as if he intended to leave you two alone.

On your way to a meeting with Brock Rumlow and his father, you wondered what it would cost you to jump out of a moving car. Would something like that be worse than marrying Brock and becoming part of his Family? The Family, which was mainly in the business of prostitution and drugs? Actually, drugs were an issue that you tolerated. But the vision of a relationship – arranged or not – with a pimp made you nauseous.

And all you knew about Brock was that he was hot-tempered, impulsive and aggressive, but this wasn’t uncommon among gangsters.

You also remembered what Bucky said.

Do you honestly believe Brock Rumlow will hold up his part of the deal? Did you forget his relationship with women or are you just going to overlook it?

“Try to keep an open mind.” You heard Michael. The sound of his voice managed to stop the chaos in your head. “James can be persuasive and thinks he knows everything. But remember he is not in your situation and never will be, so try not to turn against me. Focus on the welfare of the Family.”

You restrained yourself from snorting at his words. Focusing on the welfare of the Family and business had become one big headache for you – it was giving you sleepless nights, eating you alive, and Michael was asking you for more. You were already tired, stressed and sick to your stomach.

The car stopped outside the pub that Rumlows had proposed for a meeting, and as soon as the engine was turned off, and you realised the seriousness of the situation and how close you were to it, you felt an overpowering sense of anxiety and panic. Your breathing became uneven, the inside of your hands damp with sweat.

You jumped uneasily as the driver opened the door for you.

“I need a moment.” You were able to focus enough to make your voice sound normal, and the words left your mouth almost flawlessly. “I’ll just fix my makeup.”

Being alone in the car was somehow helping, but you still couldn't bring yourself to exit the vehicle – that step led straight to a meeting with Brock Rumlow.

“What is going on?” You heard a muffled voice that belonged to neither Michael nor the driver, so you looked up at the side window. Bucky was standing just by the car door, he wasn't speaking to you but to Michael.

“She wanted a few minutes for herself.”

Frowning, Bucky looked inside the car through the window, and you could easily see the confusion in his eyes. For a moment, you just looked at each other – you with pure mess in your head, and he as if trying to read your mind from the expression on your face. He grabbed the handle, and a refreshing spring air burst inside the car.

“Hey,” Bucky spoke gently, leaning towards you. “You okay?”

“I-” you gasped. Closing your eyes, you took the biggest possible breath you could afford right now. “I'm not sure I want to go there.”

Bucky stared at you in silence, a pained concern spreading across his face. He clenched his jaw.

“I’m sorry,” you continued in a trembling voice. “I don't normally get all-... like that. I’m not a child,” you were babbling mindlessly, fearing that otherwise he would have thought you were a spoiled hysteric.

“I know,” Bucky said immediately, cutting off your train of thought. “Listen…” he began with a hesitation. He let out a quiet sigh and wetted his lips. “We go there and it'll all be over soon. You don’t have to make any decisions yet,” he stated. “I'll be there the whole time. And I won't let anyone hurt you. Alright?” His voice was soft, delicate, but firm and decisive at the same time. “We’ll get out of there anytime you want, huh?”

The longer you stared at Bucky's face, the less anxious you felt. You genuinely believed you would be safe with him. You didn't have the head to wonder why you trusted him implicitly at that moment, but one thought automatically came to you – you needed someone like him in that situation; someone who didn't pressure you.

You nodded, and Bucky smiled. He seemed to relax a little, as if a wave of relief had spread through his body.

“I don’t want to be late.” You sounded weak, embarrassed by the scene from a moment ago. But it looked like Bucky was pretending not to see anything.

“They set the meeting in a pub,” he said with a disapproval that was not far from disgust. “Make them wait.”

Brock greeted you with a smile that faded as soon as Bucky entered the building. Rumlow Senior did a much better job of hiding his displeasure, but still watched him with caution. Bucky, on the other hand, seemed to be completely calm. Bored even.

Brock invited you to a booth, where you and Michael took a seat. Brock and his father sat opposite, and Bucky grabbed a chair from another table and moved it a little closer.

“Seriously,” Brock finally spoke up, indicating impatience. “What's this clown doing here?”

“You don’t know what clowns do, Brock?” Bucky answered. “They make people smile.” He reached for the knife attached to his belt. “Wanna try? I can give you one.”

You watched Bucky and your mouth went dry. You thought it was inappropriate, to say the least – you were sitting in front of, presumably, your future husband, but it was someone else who made you need to wet your throat and collect your thoughts. You had an unclear sense of how Bucky was affecting you, but you told yourself that any handsome man would make a similar impression on you. And Bucky was just that. Beautiful with his blue, sad eyes, nose perfect in every way, and pink, plump lips. Well-built as far as your eyesight could reach. He smelled nice; not as strong and overwhelming as the men you usually came into contact with. And his hair must have been really soft to touch…

Shaking your head to get rid of these thoughts, you reached for the glass of ice water standing in front of you. You stuck your guilt-filled gaze into the table top and dipped your lips into the cold, refreshing liquid.

Michael cleared his throat. “We should get to business.”

The beginning of the conversation was similar to what you had already heard that night when Timothy Barnes turned up at your house. You all knew what the deal was supposed to be about, but Michael had been going over it from the start – he wanted to make sure that there were no misunderstandings, and that the Rumlow Family would not actually use the agreement against yours.

You wondered why Brock didn't interfere; why he didn't have questions, didn't ask for correction or clarification of any issue. And when you glanced at him you noticed that he was looking at you in a way that made you even more nauseous. You couldn't compare it to the situation when John Walker was watching you. Although he was doing it inappropriately, it wasn't harmful. Brock, on the other hand, had something so rejecting and disgusting in his look that you would rather have disappeared out of his sight.

We’ll get out of there anytime you want.

Having remembered Bucky's words, you turned your gaze to him. Yet Bucky wasn’t focusing on you. Running his fingertip over the blunt side of the knife, he stared at Brock.

“How much exactly is there to take over?” Rumlow Senior asked.

“Well…” Michael sighed heavily. “An art gallery, two casinos; one here, the other in Atlantic City, three real estates, shares in the stock market, arms dealing for Mr. Anthony Stark…” he listed for formality; most of the Mafia community knew about each of these things. Except for the location of the real estates Michael had mentioned. “The territory of all activities, the protection of businesses in that area. And political influence.” He took off his glasses and wiped them with a handkerchief from his jacket. “As long as, of course, you take care of such friends,” he told Brock. “And I must admit that we would prefer to maintain good relationships with them.”

“Cross out the gallery,” you said. “It belongs to me only, and I decide what happens to it.” You seemed surprisingly assertive to everyone in the room, and when you noticed the perplexed looks on both Rumlows’ faces, you forced a falsely sweet smile.

“If that's your only condition…” Brock replied.

“Not really,” Bucky interjected, casually scratching his back with the knife he had played with earlier. “Y/N will have a full view of what is happening with the things she owns. I'm talking about casinos and everything else,” he clarified blandly. “And one hundred percent decision-making in major changes.”

You glanced uneasily at Bucky. Since you had no idea about running your father's business, you didn't need all this. But you understood his strategy – Bucky wanted to secure you against Brock.

Brock clenched his fists and took a deep breath. Looking at him, you thought involuntarily of a bull provoked by a red rag. “What's all this? A fucking prenup?”

Rumlow Senior put his hand on Brock’s shoulder. “Of course,” He smiled mysteriously, ignoring his son's anger. “Miss Y/N will have total control over her father's business. Provided that a male descendant is born within one year of the marriage.”

You were prepared to hear this. However, it seemed to you that Rumlow Senior had maliciously taken advantage of this condition because you and Bucky had got under his skin.

“Write down your version of the agreement, we will do the same,” Michael broke the brief silence, his voice monotone. “We’ll compare both versions and reach the final one.”

Brock offered you something to drink, and hoping to still see something in him that would make the arrangement less painful, you agreed. Michael and Rumlow Senior stayed in the booth; it didn't bother you that they could have already started discussing points of the possible agreement. Bucky was sitting right next to them and you knew he would have intervened on your behalf. What you didn't know was why he was doing it. You didn't even have any grounds to guess, but you decided to go with the assumption that he wanted you in his debt.

You stood at the bar. Although the pub was closed, the bartender was behind the counter, ready to take your order.

“What are you drinking?” Brock asked. “To celebrate our new friendship?” He sized you up in a way that he probably thought was discreet.

You didn't want to celebrate anything. You needed to numb yourself out.

“Tequila?” You smiled with pursed lips.

Brock nodded at the bartender, and the man placed two small glasses and a full bottle on the counter, then poured the alcohol. You grabbed one of the glasses and consumed its content in one steady tilt. The fire burning your throat briefly distracted you from the situation you found yourself in. Grimacing, you slid the glass back to the bartender, who filled it without a word.

“That prenup, you know…” Brock started, taking a step closer to you. “You could've just asked nicely. And I would give you everything you want.” He shrugged. You didn't believe a word he said. But if he actually spoke sincerely, you guessed what he meant by ‘asking nicely’. “You didn't have to bring Barnes here to get it done for you. I'm even a bit discouraged now, to be honest.”

There was a sense of distaste in your mouth that you needed to wash away with another shot of tequila.

“You’re right. Sorry,” you said with insincere remorse, and only did so because it was some way of getting out of this confrontation alive. You believed that if you behaved submissively enough, Brock would leave you alone. But, actually, you felt like laughing. Yes, Brockie, you thought. You’re a genius; so smart, so perfect. And a fucking prick.

“On second thought… You can still ask nicely. I will listen to you in private, what about that?” He moved even closer to you. One of Brock's hands found its way to your hip. Immediately the other followed, and before you knew what was actually happening, Brock was pressing you against his body.

“Take your hands off me, please.” There was no panic in your voice, just patience.

“Why?” He didn't even pretend to be surprised by your request. “Don't you think we should get to know each other better? We don't have much time. I mean, only a year? Minus nine months or whatever,” he added, and it sounded much more disgusting than you could've imagined.

“Get your fucking hands off her, Rumlow, or I’ll break them.”

You didn't even notice when Bucky appeared nearby. The anger, although controlled, was still visible on his face. And it seemed entirely justified to you – Bucky had warned you and Michael about Brock from the very beginning.

Rumlow stepped back reluctantly. “What's the big deal? We are almost married!”

“Do you remember signing anything, Brock? Huh?” Bucky said with apparent calm. “Maybe you do because coke has fried your fucking brain.”

Trying to intimidate him, Brock stood right in front of Bucky. But Bucky turned out to be unfazed by it.

“It will happen. Sooner or later, ‘cause there’s no more profitable candidate on the market, and you know that,” Brock muttered. “And sooner rather than later I’m going to fuck her.” He nodded in your direction. “But don't worry, we'll name our first son James. Or maybe not, since that name seems to bring bad luck. I already know one James who put his daddy in a grave.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, his nostrils flared, and his chest grew bigger as he took a deep breath through the nose. His mouth curved into a bitter smile. He stared at Brock for a while longer, then moved away, as if he intended to leave you two alone.

“That’s right, Buck. Stay out of it.” Brock turned back to you. “Where were we?” He licked his lips.

He didn't manage to get close to you again. Two hands landed on his shoulders and jerked with such force that Brock fell onto a nearby table. Before he had a chance to do something, Bucky came at him, taking a couple heavy steps. With one hand, he grabbed his shirt and held him in place; with the fist of the other, he punched him in the face hard enough to make Brock stagger again. This, however, enraged him enough to regain some control – Brock attacked Bucky, and he took that gladly.

They exchanged a few blows; Bucky aimed his nimbly and precisely, Brock seemed to strike blindly. And that's probably why he ended up on the floor, with Bucky's shoe print on his dark T-shirt.

Brock was catching his breath and Bucky observed his work, but he didn't finish it off. He stood more or less in the same place from which he had pushed Brock.

You enjoyed it. A lot. It wasn't necessarily about Brock getting what he deserved, but the spectacle itself. Men punching each other – the kind of violence you loved in some twisted way, especially when there was alcohol running through your veins.

Michael and Rumlow Senior were also watching the whole scene. Neither of them intended to react, and both looked as if they were witnessing a fight between two teenagers too young to control their anger and raging hormones.

“Hey…” You turned to the bartender. “Can I get a cloth and some ice?”

Rumlow whispered something to Michael, then helped his son up. “Let’s go, you-” he growled, his mouth set in a hard line. Michael left the pub behind them, presumably to smooth things over.

The bartender placed a clean cloth and a glass filled with ice cubes on the counter. You poured them onto the cloth and folded it, making a cold compress.

When Bucky appeared at the bar, you glanced at him without saying a word. Although the redness stretching from his temple to his cheekbone was quite clear to see, you carefully studied his entire face, trying to find something else there. You weren't sure what exactly, but you were somehow satisfied to notice in his eyes traces of cooled anger slowly turning to consternation.

Again, Bucky was allowing you to come into wordless contact with him, so without any resistance you lowered your gaze to his right hand, resting loosely on the surface of the counter. His knuckles looked much worse than his face, but it didn't surprise you – he threw more punches than he took.

As you looked up at his face, you caught his eyes. They were bored into you.

“Are you going to say anything?” he asked, breaking the silence between you.

“If it was about me, I would say it wasn't the smartest thing you could have done,” you answered, reaching for the prepared compress. You enjoyed the show, but you were worried Bucky had gotten himself into trouble because of that, and it was your fault.

You lifted the compress to his face and pressed it to the side, and he didn't even blink.

“Well, it was about you,” he threw out casually, without making the slightest effort to convince you that this was indeed the case.

“Sure,” You pressed the compress harder, making Bucky wince slightly.

“I’m sorry. I’m being snarky,” he sighed.

“It’s okay. You got every right to be angry,” you claimed. “Brock shouldn’t have brought up your dad like that.”

“You’re right,” Bucky agreed, his voice bland once again. “I could have punched him earlier. Before he even started talking’.”

You smiled slightly and tilted your head, looking at him with the least believable disapproval there was.

“How's your pain?” you asked softly, nodding at his hand.

Bucky looked at it too, then lifted it off the counter, bent and stretched his fingers. “It’s nothing,” he stated, although you could see that the bloody wounds were making him uncomfortable.

The door of the pub slammed, so you both instinctively looked in that direction. You've never seen Michael so annoyed before.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” he scolded Bucky. “Do you have any idea what you just did? Now I have to somehow convince the Rumlows not to give up on us.”

“For what?” Bucky bit back. “To sell your protege to these fu-”

“Watch your tone.”

“Michael,” you began. You intended not only to express your opinion, but also to give Bucky some space; to take Michael off of his back. “You don’t have to convince the Rumlows to anything.”

Michael raised his eyebrows. “How come?”

“Well…” you hesitated, nibbling on your bottom lip. You were aware that he was trying to save your father's life's work, and you weren't making it any easier for him. But it was time to face the truth – Brock was the worst possible candidate. “I don’t think my marriage with Brock will work out. Rumlow Senior doesn’t want to cooperate, he just wants more power. And Brock couldn’t care less about business.” In reality, you had no idea if it was actually the truth. But some gut instinct told you to plant a seed of doubt in Michael.

And you knew you had succeeded – Michael was silent, considering something.

“All right,” he said. “I will contact Rumlow Senior one last time. If they agree to our terms, we will meet with them again. If they demand more, no deal will be done.”

The situation wasn't ideal, but at least you had bought yourself some time.

“And one more thing,” Michael added. “This is the last meeting you attended.” He looked at Bucky. “Whether it's Brock or any other candidate, I don't want to see you. I will not accept you messing with Y/N's head. I want you to stay away from her. Is that clear?”

At first glance, Bucky seemed unmoved. But there was something in his eyes – something strikingly similar to the way he looked at Brock before he came at him.

“Is that clear, Mr. Barnes?”

“Yeah. I heard you the first time,” Bucky answered. He headed to the door, and without saying a word, or at least glimpsing at you, left the pub.

taglist: @goldensunflowe-r @nefri-black @vickie5446

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky x y/n #mob bucky #mafia!bucky #mafia bucky #mafia!bucky x reader

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siempre-bucky · 2 years

Text

golden barn lights

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

summary: After your elopement, you and Jake head to Texas for his family's ranch party. You keep your relationship a secret, not wanting to steal his mom's thunder, but Jake finally gets you alone for a dance outside.

wc: 2.2k

an: wow, look at me not giving jake daddy issues....enjoy.

Jake was thankful for the traffic on the dirt road that led to his family’s ranch. His hand rested on your thigh, his fingers tapping along to the Patsy Cline song coming from the speakers, emerald colored eyes flashing between the car in front of him and the changing colors of the trees. The traffic meant more alone time with you, delaying the arrival of the town’s prodigal children.

“You have a pretty voice,” you said warmly, your head resting against the glass. You watched the fall colored leaves fall from the trees that blocked the golden sun, smiling to yourself as a rust toned leaf got stuck in the window.

His pink lips upturned in a genuine smile, you always knew by the soft lines that formed around his mouth. You turned your head to look at him, and just as you figured, a soft pink blush dusted his cheeks. “You did that on purpose, darlin’,” he groaned, his eyes catching your smug grin.

“I suppose,” you responded nonchalantly, the smirk you wore told something different. Jake grimaced as the long line of cars started to move. Shifting in your seat, you moved his hand off your thigh and intertwined your fingers. Goosebumps formed on his arm as the cold gemstone of your engagement ring grazed the bare skin of his finger. All you could do was smile and place loving kisses on his knuckles.

Every year, for a few weeks in October, the Seresin Ranch would open its large iron gates to the public. The pumpkin patch and hayrides were something out of a cheesy romcom, and Nora Seresin ate it up. She made sure the grand opening night would be over the top as soon as she found out her beloved son would be coming home just in time, his best friend right beside him. He recalled something about a new fall themed garden from one of their phone calls. The town was buzzing as soon as word spread.

Oh if only the town knew.

“Ready?” Jake asked as he finally pulled into the garage, the truck’s engine a soft rumble.

The solemness in his features didn’t go unnoticed, and neither did yours. His gaze was trained on the silver band that wrapped around his ring finger. “I’m not ready to take it off,” you matched his glum tone, looking at the slender silver wedding band on yours.

It was a couple of weeks of bliss; Jake running from his plane, wrapping you in his arms, and begged you to marry him after the almost suicide mission. At first, you thought it was the adrenaline and the cheering crowd on the carrier that boosted his ego, but then he pulled out a ring when the moon took its place in the sky. With phones turned off and lips sworn to a temporary secret, you and Jake shared promises and a loving kiss in a quaint courthouse.

Jake removed your rings and you removed his before he placed them carefully in the glove compartment. “We’ll tell them tomorrow,” he repeated his promise as the two of you exited the truck. You smoothed down your sundress (you praised mother nature for the perfect Texas fall weather) giving Jake enough time to round the vehicle and guide you to the barn across the path.

“When my family comes over for breakfast,” you added, smiling at the people happily roaming the ranch.

“Ma will kill me if I ruin her moment,” he chuckled. It was common knowledge that no Seresin liked their thunder stolen, and what a doozy would it be to announce the elopement of childhood friends.

Jake’s hand itched at his side as you two walked, his fingers twitching at the feeling of your empty hand next to him. He’d grown accustomed to having you close, fate being an unlikely friend and placing you beside him at every point in your Navy career. He’d always known you, it was hard not to in such a small Texas town. Typically, the whole town would cheer for a pair of best friends falling in love, mothers would roll their eyes and shake their heads while fathers would playfully place bets—it never happened to the two of you. No bets, no playful remarks, surely it came out of nowhere like Jake’s plane emerging from the clouds to save Rooster and Maverick’s lives.

The large red barn came into view, golden light pouring from the open doors and windows, lively country music coming from the band inside. “Save me a dance?” you asked him playfully as you spotted your parents speaking with his own.

He grinned and shot you a wink, “Sure, baby.”

It didn’t take long for a pair of joyous squeals to ring out. You and Jake stood in front of the doors for a whole two seconds before your mothers hugged you and squeezed the daylights out of you. “Hi, mom,” you managed to get out, patting her back.

“Son,” Jacob Seresin Sr. laughed pridefully, clapping a large hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Good to see you back. I’m proud of you son.” A warmth spread through him, his heart probably couldn’t feel fuller in that moment. His wife wrapped in the arms of his beloved mother, his father speaking about him in such high regard to everyone that would listen—he took a moment to soak it in. He’d lie if anyone asked why his eyes were glossy.

“Sweetheart, I’m so happy you’re here,” your mother cooed, cupping your face to check for cuts and bruises.

“Me too, mama,” you giggled, playfully shaking your head to get out of her motherly grasp.

“Enjoy the event, kids,” Jacob chimed in, raising his amber colored bottle in the air and pointing in the direction of the interior.

Jake was about to pour out a string of compliments of the event, but then an older woman rushed over; rushing as much as she could for a frail eighty year old woman. She looped a veiny arm around Jake’s and dragged him with a surprising amount of force, muttering something about spiked punch and her granddaughter. He looked back at you with a dramatic pleading face, making you giggle and bite down on your lip to prevent a wide grin.

Much to your and Jake’s disappointment, that was the last time you interacted the entire evening; whisked away by military veterans dying for a good mission story and older women trying to set you up with their sons and daughters. The band’s country music reverberated off the walls, you smiled, and the mix of elegance and coziness that Jake’s mom was able to achieve.

You were having your ear talked off by some of your old high school girlfriends, gushing about recent engagements and promotions. Their words sounded fuzzy, your attention was set on the corner of the room which was occupied by a few guys in flannel. Normally that corner was home to loose hay covering the floor; Jake kissed you there for the first time when you were younger, a few days away from leaving for flight school. He threw you into the hay, and you grabbed his wrist to pull him down on top of you. You managed to recall every shade of green and fleck of gold in his irises as he looked at you longingly until they became blurry from how close he got. Your lips still managed to tingle in remembrance.

He’s alone, you thought happily as you caught his stare, his eyebrows raised hopefully. You uttered a lame excuse and started to cross the large floor to him. The blond started to rise from his seat, ready to give you that dance. An older woman patted your arm, pivoting your direction as she guided you.

Jake sat back down.

You shrugged and weakly smiled.

The dances continued, and the same stories began to shift and change as exhaustion set in. You and Jake almost gave up in trying to find each other after the fourth line dance. His patience wore thin when he reached for your hand but was grabbed by another, and that string almost snapped when the lady with hair as high as the heavens said her daughter was single. Doin’ this for ma, he thought bitterly to himself with clenched fists and gritted teeth.

There was an ocean of people between you, the opposite walls of the barn holding the two of you up. His eyes locked with yours and your body began to relax. He motioned his head towards the back door, a small smirk on his handsome features. Eagerly nodding your head in response, he walked with urgency towards the wood door.

Jake finally drew in a breath of relief as darkness covered him like a comfortable blanket. The cold air soothing his lungs, he looked to the sky, breath stolen by brilliant stars. Nothing could compare to the stars in a cloudless Texas sky, not even the ones on a carrier in the middle of the ocean.

“Jake,” you whispered into the night. His lips immediately turned upward, his gaze looking for you in the dark. He could always pick you out in a crowd and even in the dark; he knew the way you walked, how you held yourself, and your silhouette was something he prided himself on memorizing.

“You know,” he spoke confidently, making you jump at the volume, “I’ve been waitin’ to get you in my arms all night.”

He heard you giggle shyly, then he felt your hands press against his chest and slid them down his abs, nails gently dragging along the material. Your hands finally rested on his back, the side of your face pressed in between his defined pecs. “I got three marriage proposals, what about you?” you murmured ss he began to sway from side to side. The same Patsy Cline song he heard from the car now being played by the band, he hummed along before he replied.

Jake laughed and pressed an amused kiss to the top of your head. “Five. I’m in demand, baby.”

You shifted in his embrace, worming your arms around his neck and he instinctively gripped your hips. “I have competition,” you joked, looking up. His features were barely visible in the darkness.

He scoffed jokingly, gently slapping your hips. “Far, far from it. You’re the only one that could get a ring on my finger.”

“Sap,” you chuckled, rising on your tiptoes to kiss him. Hours without one of his sweet kisses felt like years to you; blame it on the newlywed bliss. His warm hand slid upwards, leaving goosebumps in its wake before he managed to cup the nape of your neck. Your eyes fluttered close, focusing on his touch.

Something illuminated the darkness, making your nose crinkle. Golden lights flickered on, before finally lighting up the space behind the barn. You and Jake’s lips finally parted, still wrapped up in each other's arms as you observed. Fairy lights littered the space, wrapping around large sunflowers and corn stocks while larger lights were hung in the air like a big top tent. Before the fear set in, you thought your husband looked beautiful and he thought the same of you.

He looked towards the barn, blood turning cold as he saw his mother with her dainty finger on the light switch. Her signature Seresin smirk was displayed proudly, the shake of her head made a heat rush to your face. “Ma-”

“Save it,” she snickered, waving him off. “I got eyes, son.”

Jake sheepishly pulled away from you, his fingers twitching. “There’s something we gotta-”

He was cut off once more, this time by you, “We weren't ready to tell anyone.” He looked down at you in surprise, his lips slightly parted. He was more than ready to tell her about the elopement.

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” she sighed with a smile, nodding in understanding. “When Jakey came home from his first day of sixth grade talkin’ about a girl in math class. I just knew you were bound to go steady.”

You and Jake chuckled. “This is still her moment,” you whispered, “We’re not ready for one of her stern talking tos.”

“Y’all have a nice night,” she winked before going back to the party.

After a few breaths of relief, Jake took you back in his arms. You hummed at the warmth and nuzzled your face back into his chest, smiling at how fast his heart was racing. "We could have told her," he mumbled.

"I kinda wanna savor this a little longer." You responded, holding him a little tighter. Jake laughed and put the side of his face on the crown of your head, gently moving you to the music.

"Till breakfast?"

"Over your mom's pumpkin pancakes."

—

"Married!" Your mother's exclaimed at the same time. The table stood still as you and Jake stood at the head of the table, rings displayed proudly on your hands. Jake caught his father slip your dad a fifty-dollar bill, and you watched your siblings share knowing looks with Jake’s sisters.

“When did this start?” Your dad asked with a grin.

“Before flight school,” Jake’s older sister answered.

“In the barn,” his younger sister added.

“Y’all needed a better hiding spot,” your sister snickered in between bits of her food.

Nora got up from the table and held your hand, her free one lovingly stroking Jake’s cheek. “We didn’t wanna ruin the party ma… you know how you get,” Jake said lightly.

“I see why you didn’t tell me,” she chuckled. “Welcome to the family, sweetie, officially.”

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin oneshot #hangman #hngman x reader #hangman x you #hangman imagine #top gun #top gun maverick

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perseephoneee · 2 months

Text

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓘𝓘

In which, you, a lady of the ton, are forced to participate in courting season. Except that courting season comes with one particularly silver tongued Prince who is making it his mission to drive you absolutely insane.

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a/n: this is such a filler chapter, and it's also terrible, and i hate it.

While you knew the Odinsons, you didn’t know the full extent of their history. That is until you made it home from the dance, and your sister demanded you tell her about your rendevous with Thor. You were so exhausted you could barely get the answers she yearned for.

Lady Frigga, the mother of Thor and Loki, was originally a lady of the ton but married Odin, a Prince of Norway at the time. After Frigga’s passing, Odin moved the family back to London in honor of her spirit. You found it surprisingly romantic.

You awoke late the following day, finding the night before's events tiring. Social situations constantly exhaust you. Going through your closet, you put on a green gown, ignoring any help that could be given to you. You resented having someone else dress you. You were so in your own head as you bounded down the stairs to your sitting room that you barely noticed the man taking up space on the couch.

“Your Highness,” you bowed, eyes wide as Thor sat up to greet you with a bright smile. Your Grandmother was perched on one of the other setees, an excited sparkle in her eyes. Oh, how you wished to squash that gleam.

“Lady Chilton, how do you fare this morning?” Thor asked, hands clasped behind his back. He was ridiculously tall, and you had to tilt your head to take him in.

“Well, I wasn’t taken in my sleep, so I would hazard that I’m doing well,” I said, taking slight glee at the glare my Grandmother shot me. Thor let out a hearty laugh, though.

“I’m glad you are still in our presence,” Thor answered earnestly. “I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to the races today?”

“Races?” You dared a glance toward your grandmother before looking back at Thor’s icy blue eyes. You clasped your hands before answering. “Absolutely. That sounds wonderful.” Thor perked up at your answer, as did your grandmother.

“Splendid, do you need a second before we leave?” he asked. You shook your head no, letting yourself be ushered out with his hand on the small of your back. You didn’t bother looking back at your grandmother; you knew she would be ecstatic.

Of course, the carriage that Thor showed up in was immaculate, and he helped you into one of the seats. You settled yourself, adjusting your skirt as Thor joined you in the carriage and closed the door. Your hands sat in your lap, anxiously twiddling your thumbs.

“Have you been to the races before?” Thor inquired.

“Heavens, no,” you chuckled, catching yourself. Your insubordination was going to get you in trouble someday. Thor seemed to find it charming, though, so he just laughed. “I prefer a good book.”

“So does my brother,” Thor sighed, glancing out the window. The sounds of the ton and nature were fast approaching, and the mention of Loki changed your mood. He was an enigma to you, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “We’ve arrived.”

You glance out the window, taking in the scenery. The races were held near the lake, with green pastures surrounding its perimeter. Many members of society were there, and the available men were already courting some eligible ladies. Pastel colors and parasols obscured much of the natural sites you would’ve loved to see. Still, maybe you’d have time later.

A light conversation occurred between you and Thor as he led the way to the stadium. He was attentive to your words, asking probing questions that let you know he was listening. Unfortunately, you didn’t have much in common. Still, he was kind. He respected that you weren’t a ‘typical’ lady of the ton. If you had to marry, it wouldn’t be a wrong choice.

The truth was, you had yet to learn how races worked. You had the general idea, but you had never attended one. Thor seemed excited, so you tried your best to adopt his enthusiasm. Unfortunately, your seat had to be next to his brother's.

“What brings the fair lady out to join us today?” Loki coos, a teasing tone evident. You rolled your eyes as you and Thor approached. Thor left to place his bet, giving you a second alone with the raven-haired prince.

“Your brother invited me,” you smile, tilting your head.

“Looks like you found someone who enjoys your wit,” Loki says, looking out over the fields slightly teasingly. You bristle, eyes narrowing.

“If only you could find someone who enjoys yours,” you mumble. Loki looks at you through narrowed eyes, biting his tongue as Thor returns.

“Apologies for the delay, m’lady,” Thor says, leaning down to your height. “Hope you were able to stay entertained.”

“Conversation could be better, but otherwise, I’m fine,” you glanced at Loki, raising your eyebrows in amusement. He crossed his arms, indifferent. Thor chuckled, leading you to your seats.

The race was about to start, and all the horses and their riders lined up. At this point, the event was beginning to feel like a Venetian breakfast– way too long. Like all the other sensible ladies, you wished you had brought a fan to stave off the heat. That would mean conforming, though, something you never excelled at. You found yourself much more interested in the race than you thought. When the horses took off, you were on the edge of your seat. One would pull in front of the other, then fall behind. You found yourself rooting for the grey-dappled horse; something quiet about its demeanor drew you in. It would’ve won; you believed that if it wasn’t for the Palmano next to it that distracted your chosen horse enough that it ended up only placing second.

“Oh, come on!” you exclaim, standing up in a huff as the stadium erupts in cheers or disappointment. “That was–”

“Perposterous,” Loki finished your sentence, indignation in his tone. You made eye contact, resenting the way his green eyes made your heart skip a beat.

“What’s wrong?” Thor asked, concerned but still joyful.

“That wasn’t very sportsmanlike,” you mumble to him, brows furrowed.

“Life isn’t always fair,” Thor says. “Sometimes what we think is right isn’t always.”

“Sounds like something that a man who just won a race would say,” Loki sighs, sprawling out in his seat. You hide a hint of a smile, refusing to acknowledge either brother's words.

“You two are too similar,” Thor huffs, causing you to chuckle. Too similar or too obstinate, you couldn’t tell. You did know, though…you didn’t want to spend more time with Loki.

taglist: @eleniblue @iwrite-things @youneedanap @huntress-artemiss @linaax @pisces-celeste @marygoddessofmischief

#loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #marvel #marvel fics #loki fics #my writing

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musings-of-a-rose · 5 months

Note

For the "Leave the first sentence of a fic in my askbox" game:

I thought I knew what love was, but then I met him.

The Meaning of Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Word Count: 1026

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Life comes with expectations. Everyone told me to go to college, get a degree, find a nice man, get married, start a family, grow old together. I intended to do just that, sort of floating through life, not unhappy but not entirely happy either. Like I hadn’t found the exact fit.

Then I met Jeremy and my life became brighter. We met my senior year of college, literally bumping into each other in the bookstore on campus. He’d spilled coffee all down my front and I laughed, as I’d had to change my shirt earlier that day for doing the exact same thing to myself. He was studying business, his days spent mostly in the library with his nose buried in books or online, trying to keep up with the latest business trends. I was majoring in elementary education with a minor in creative writing, so I definitely spent my fair share in the library too.

Wherever we went, we had a good time. Jeremy was respectful and kind to me, always making sure I ate, knowing that often I’d forget to. We were together about 6 months before confessing our love for one another, and at a year, he asked me to move in with him. We were well on our way to finishing the typical expectations. Everyone kept asking me if he’d popped the question or when he was going to put a ring on it. We talked about marriage and it was something we were both interested in. It was the normal flow of life.

What no one expected was for me to suddenly gain powers, become what people call an inhuman.

It happened randomly one day. I was out for a run when suddenly, I tripped. But instead of slamming my palms into the ground, it cracked beneath me, ripples of concrete fanning out from where my palms hovered above the ground. I scrambled back and landed on my ass, scooting backwards from the partially sunken sidewalk. My breath shaking, I look at my hands - not a mark on them. It was probably nothing. A coincidence. But what else could do this?

I called Jeremy as I walked home quickly, asking him what could have caused the sidewalk to crack like that. Of course he was quick to tell me to sue the county, that the sidewalk was dangerous and could’ve seriously injured me. That was just the way he was.

I got home and took a shower, letting the hot water cascade over my shoulders, willing them to relax as I looked down at my palms again. I was so focused on what I was doing, I didn’t hear Jeremy come in. When he touched my shoulder I jumped, my hands coming up to shield myself. But then Jeremy flew back against the door, his back nearly leaving an imprint in the shape of him.

“I’m so sorry!” I started to cry, looking down at my palms and back at Jeremy. “I don’t know what’s happening to me!”

“Y-you did this?” He choked out, staring at me.

I nod. “I thought the sidewalk was random but this? I don’t…I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

He started to stand up and I took a step towards him, but he threw his hands up, fear flooding his eyes.

“Stay back!”

I stopped. “Jeremy? What..what do you mean?”

His hand scrambles for the door handle, hand scraping against the wood. “Don’t come any closer!”

“Jer..it’s me. I just..I don’t know what’s happening. I need help.” I take another step but he finds the handle and turns it, running out the door but not before he looks at me, fear and anger in his gaze.

“Get away from me, you freak!”

—----

That was 10 years ago. I never saw Jeremy again after that night and I rarely dated, never trusting anyone fully. If Jeremy could be so in love with me and leave me in an instant, how could I ever trust again?

I never went into teaching. No one wanted an inhuman teaching their kids. I did discover more about myself, what it meant to be an inhuman. Someone with powers. But I never trusted anyone.

Then Clint Barton found me, alone and living in my car. He offered me his hand and told me to come with him, that I would be more than welcome at the Avenger compound. Unfortunately, people there still walked on eggshells around me, never sure if I’d “go off”. Then one day, a firm knock raps on my door and I answer it, breath catching in my throat at the most beautiful, troubled man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Bucky Barnes, aka The Winter Soldier.

He looked like he was bracing for the worst, for my eyes to go wide and to retreat back into my room. But it was very much the opposite, my curious eyes tracing down his metal arm and landing on the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.

“Clint told me you needed training?”

“Oh. Uh I guess so?”

“Come on.”

Bucky trained me how to control my powers, using the skills he learned since getting rid of the brainwashing Hydra had put there. He taught me how to use my powers for my own self, using them to protect others. But he also taught me that in my solace, in others fear of me, fear of myself, of my own power, that I was not alone. He had been through the same thing and was still battling it himself. We eventually found ourselves pressed together, my legs and heart opening to accept him, all of him, as he whispered praises and love in my ear, our bodies melting together.

I thought I knew what love was, but then I met him. Bucky was the missing piece of my life that I had been waiting for. He sees me, loves me for me, isn’t afraid of me. And all of that love and adoration is reflected back at him through my eyes. I can’t imagine my life without him and I know I’ll follow him past the end of the line.

—----

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hana-no-seiiki · 10 months

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YAN! REINCARNATING LOVE INTEREST x READER ( ft. YAN! REINCARNATING LOVE RIVAL + YAN! SECOND LEAD BRAINROT / CONCEPT )

I legitimately could not stomach waking up and separating from this wild dream I had about this so…

These ocs have already been posted about before I just haven’t given them appearances and tbh I didn’t like Yan! Love Interest that much before but seeing as how HOT he is in my dreams I’m just like 🙇🏻‍♂️ my apologies have this post dedicated to you king

warnings: mentions of prostitution, classicism, elitism, aliens, mentions of seggs.

this post is for readers 16 and above, otherwise dni

In this scenario we have YAN! LOVE INTEREST. He’s loved you since time immemorial. He has lost all sense of affection for the world and everything in it since he was trapped in this wicked cycle. That is, everything but you.

You held no memories of your past lives and thus changed quite a lot in the ones that followed but even then he fell hard each time.

The lives I remember from my dreams are as follows:

LIFE NUMERO UNO

YAN ! LOVE INTEREST is head over heels for you. It’s been a few lives since he started remembering everything that happened before as such he’s still not as yan as he currently is.

This is set around “ancient japan” but like anime/genshin ancient japan cause he has pink hair and the prettiest ruby eyes I’m-

Anyways he’s arranged to marry his cousin who happens to be YAN! LOVE RIVAL. She’s also super pretty but unfortunately does not retain her memories like he does.

In my dreams he gets drunk, flirts with her and ends up biting her lips while he has her underneath him. YAN! LOVE RIVAL is just relieved he’s starting to move on from you but oop what does he whisper in her ears? Your name.

(Note: After this incident, YAN! LOVE INTEREST now never gets drunk without your or trusty YAN! SECOND LEAD presence around to anchor him. That and he doesn’t drink that often anymore since stalking you has become a much more uh- fulfilling vice)

Furious she goes over to your residence and you come from a new money sort of family which impressed her since she thought you’d be some pretty peasant or ‘hostess’ from a ditch somewhere.

And when she sees you she’s just like “God damn.” (for some reason her exchange with you went down in Korean in my dream-)

In that life you were a refined lady. Literally everything she idolized in YAN! LOVE INTEREST, but better. You carried yourself with such elegance and had a such an entrancing temperament that she immediate forgets what she was angry about. Also YAN! LOVE RIVAL is a bit of a face con so you bet she thought you were beautiful af.

…

You two end up fucking like animals that it alerts the entire noble world. Eventually leading to your execution.

From that life onward YAN! LOVE INTEREST swore to enact vengeance on all of YAN! LOVE RIVAL’s lives for your sake. Not knowing his family is the reason you died in the first place ( and. yan! love rival did her best to save you )

LIFE NUMERO DOS

This life is set in highschool (ish) where you and YAN! LOVE INTEREST have recently broken up due to rumors of him cheating on you arising. At least that’s what you told him. The truth was that you learnt he was getting married to YAN! LOVE RIVAL and decided you weren’t going to be part of this drama like at all.

In this life you don’t interact much with the YANs because oh shit aliens have invaded and now you’re in a survival game.

Told ya this dream was wild.

Anyways this life follows the typical Infinite Flow/Quick Transmigration format and has you traveling different universes to accrue points and well, survive.

While you’re out here suffering, YAN! LOVE INTEREST just immediately gets an S-rank due to his reincarnations and memories. You learn to hug the golden thigh and got back with him solely for the sake of staying alive.

Once you got to the same ranking as him you dump him to get with SECOND LEAD.

You underestimated how petty this man could be so in a last ditch attempt to have you in the end, YAN! LOVE INTEREST turns back time with the help of YAN! LOVE RIVAL to make you pay.

BUT THE PLOT THICKENS AS YOU DONT LOSE YOUR MEMORIES AFTER THE TIME REVERSAL.

AND IT’S JUST MIND GAMES AFTER MIND GAMES.

Anyways to HEAD-CANNONS !

Each character could look vastly different in each life but have identifiers you can point out from em. YAN! LOVE INTEREST always has red eyes that glow when he has menacing plans. They’re also unlike my other yan! oc eve are hella blank. super flat, reminiscent of kafka’s eyes in the opening of HSR. Also he’s usually a short king.

YAN! LOVE RIVAL always has purple/pink eyes. Is usually femme and has wavy hair. In comparison to LOVE INTEREST’s eyes, hers are always sparkly and full of life.

YAN! SECOND LEAD has blue eyes reminiscent of the sky. Fashion icon. You’ll never see him in crappy drip.

You can also pretty much identify them from their personalities. YAN! LOVE INTEREST is super flirty, often hypersexual and horny. He’s the most sadistic bitch I’ve ever written. He yearns for blood as much as he yearns to fuck you.

YAN! LOVE RIVAL is prissy, entitled and deliciously cruel. Somehow is always rich in every life, whether it’s new, old or lucky money.

YAN! SECOND LEAD is a clean freak. He usually either hates you at first or is indifferent. There’s actually a life where YAN! LOVE INTEREST confused him for you, and this led to YAN! LOVE INTEREST literally selling you to prostitution. SECOND LEAD saved your ass and you end up living happily together for the rest of that life as LOVE INTEREST was too busy dying out of guilt.

YAN! SECOND LEAD’s danger as a yandere mostly stems from how subtle it is. Manipulation king. Sometimes he doesn’t even know it, but he’s already making you hate the other two and come to him for comfort.

Have I mentioned how cute YAN! LOVE INTEREST is? He genuinely loves you to the moon and beyond, but because of the reincarnations he’d slowly gone insane. Your early lives together were diabetes inducingly cute. Mostly of him shirking his responsibility to be with you. If this post goes well I’m definitely drawing these three god im horknee for this man.

But for some reason despite literally having lives of experience fucking you (and him) as every gender/sex somehow YAN! LOVE RIVAL is the most physically compatible with you.

Honestly, if these three set aside their differences they’d make a great poly relationship with you. Unfortunately they hate each other too much for that to happen 😭

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dellalyra · 11 months

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Family Formations • Part Nineteen

A/N: Request from @psychicai !!! Abt the readers relationship w the Kyoto kids

Summary: The Exchange Event, part two - reader and the Kyoto Kids.

CW: swearing, canon typical violence, mentions of gore

“Y/N!”

“HIMEEEEE!”

You shout each others names running toward each other, Utahime letting go of her girlfriend, Shoko’s hand and you Satoru’s so that you could meet in the middle of the courtyard and hug.

“I haven’t seen you in like, 2 months! I missed you so much!” She speaks.

“I missed you too! We have so much to catch up on!” You squeeze her tighter.

As she pulls away, she asks,

“So how’s your darling boy?” She asks and your heart immediately swells thinking of your little baby, now four months old.

“I’m doing really good, thanks Utahime-chan!” Satoru smiles, wrapping her in a hug to which he is quickly smacked in the chest.

“Fuck off, Gojo.”

“You’re the one who asked how I was!” He stomps.

“Honey she meant the baby.” You smile, squeezing his hand.

At the mention of Akio, Satoru’s eyes and face just light up like a carnival at dusk.

“Drinks?” You ask.

“Drinks.” Shoko agrees.

Utahime would be staying with Shoko while everyone was in town for the exchange event, which wasn’t surprising. They’d been dancing around their feelings for years, and then finally got together the night of you and Satoru’s wedding 4 years ago.

You only had tonight before meetings and gatherings for the event began, and you were gonna make the most of it.

—————————————————

“AOI TODO!”

Several bodies freeze in place.

You had been making your way across campus when sounds of a commotion had caught you attention. You’d followed the racket and you had found wreckage.

Megumi was held covered in blood, head flushing scarlet liquid, The giant of a man, Todo, the Kyoto third year was lunging forward to prepare another attack – but halted at your voice screaming his name as if it was Inumaki himself commanding it.

All heads whip around to you, and all except one cower at the edge in your voice and the rage on your face.

“Todo-san, it would be a wise move on your part to step away from my son.” Your voice echoed loud and clear and, in that moment, you had a 6ft3 bull of a young man cowering as if you were a dragon.

Nobara seemed taken aback, along with the girl you recognised as Mai Zen’in, by your eerie presence and rippling waves of fury ripping through the air around you.

Seems your reputation of possessing a blazing temper was accurate. No wonder you and Gojo-Sensei were married.

“Y/N-Sensei! I am –” Todo began, but you raised you hand to silence him.

“I absolutely do not want to hear it. I am incredibly disappointed at this display from you. Getting into a fight with a first year during the exchange event? Todo – you are a third year! Such childish behaviour.” You scolded him as if he was a toddler drawing on the wall.

“Nobara sweetie, will you run and get Satoru for me? Thank you honey.” You say, shooting her a soft smile.

“Todo. Get your ass out of here. I can’t look at you right now.” You say as you turn to kneel beside Megumi.

The Boogey Woogey user lowers his head in apparent shame and shuffles off in the direction of the Zen’in twins and their glaring showdown.

“Show me where it hurts, baby.” You pushed your son's hair from his face. You didn’t care if he was 16 now, he was still your little boy, and you’d continue patching up his wounds the same way you did from a fall off the climbing frame at 7 years old.

He lowers his head with a wince and if anyone had seen you both in this moment, they might have caught the soft way he keened at the touch and comfort of the woman who raised him – the only person he would let be this soft with him.

Okay, maybe Itadori was getting close.

You hiss pulling his hair back and seeing a gash on the pale scalp.

“This one is gonna need stitches I think, we should get you to Aunty Koko.” The way you were babying and fussing over him, even using the nickname for your best friend that Tsumiki had used when they were tiny was something he oh so secretly cherished. Not that he would ever let anyone know that, but you knew. He wasn’t that slick when it came to you.

Satoru waltzed around the corner at the moment, smile on his face – which quickly dropped as he saw you kneeling beside the bleeding teen and then he raced to sit with you both.

“Shit Megumi! Did you get in a fight with a building?!” He joked, easing the tension.

“Does Aoi Todo count as a building?” Megumi grunted out

“I’d classify him as a whole ass planet. C’mon let’s get you to Aunty Koko.” He spoke. Megumi rises to stand and quickly begins to lose his balance from the exhaustion of the fight.

You glance at Satoru who immediately crouches down a little, back to your son.

“C’mon kid, hop up.” Megumi cops on that he’s trying to give him a piggyback to the infirmary and quickly goes to shake his head and refuse – such a teenage boy, but the shaking of his head makes him wince as the blood from his spikey hair dribbles down.

He lets out a noise of protest but relents.

When he’s got his arms around Satoru’s neck, and your husband has his arms holding up the boys legs a vision, a flashback comes through your mind.

An 8-year-old Megumi, draped the exact same way, but head curled into a 21-year-old Satoru’s neck, asleep. Tsumiki was walking hand in hand with you. You’d just finished up a day at the zoo, you’d been there for hours and the kids, and you both, were exhausted.

You smiled, seeing you Megumi had grown. Well, how both your boys had.

You really had been kids raising kids, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

——————————

Principal Yoshinobu Gakuganji.

You counted yourself as a kind person, warm and loving.

But not to him.

Never him.

Since the day you were born it seems that man has had a personal vendetta against you, along with the rest of the higher ups. He had been particularly evasive this time – presumably because of the fact that he had been plotting Yuuji’s death.

After you had ensured the kids were all okay, and safe – being treated by Shoko it was time for war.

You flung the door open to the staff room, leaving a dent in the wall from where the handle shattered the plaster.

“YOU BASTARD!” You shout.

“Miss Y/N –”

“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE! You planned for his death! You treacherous old cretin. I knew you were a cunt, but this is another level. You used your students as weapons? To kill a child?” You shout at him, shaking in fury.

“He is not a child! He is Sukuna’s vessel! The only reason he has not yet been executed is because of you and your brat husband!”

“He is 15! He is a child! You ordered other children to kill a child! You would let them shoulder the burden of cold-blooded murder just so you can live the end of your miserable life without the burden of managing a vessel?! He’s not even your student! He’s ours!”

At this point, Satoru was dealing with the other issue – the unregistered curses who hijacked the event. He was investigating the possibility of the patch face curse’s involvement with Nanami. He’d join you later, but you had this handled.

His little angry bunny.

“I am your elder! Where is your respect?!” Gakuganji responded.

“Oh, you want respect? Wrong fucking person to ask, you slimy old fucker. You have been nothing but cruel and hateful my entire life, then you move onto the next generation? I swear to you, the next time you so much as think of harming any of these kids I will tear you limb from fucking limb and display your body to the rest of you ancient shits.”

And with that, you turn on your heel. Utahime and Yaga stared at your retreating figure.

You had no idea that all of the kids were waiting (eavesdropping) in the next room.

“Y/N. That was fucking badass.” From Maki.

“I knew you were iconic but – wow, you’re just like – the whole moment.” Nobara.

“Shake.”

“Jesus, mom that was brutal.” Megumi.

And a sheepish, if shaken Yuuji.

You giggle and walk down the hall to your office.

———————————

After about an hour of cooling down from your rage, a knock on the door sounds.

“Cmon in!”

One of the last people you’d expect came through the door.

“Y/N-Sensei. Do you have a moment?” The boy asked.

“Of course, Kamo-san. Do you want some candy?”

The boy sits and takes a few jellybeans from your jar on your desk.

He’s quiet for a minute.

You knew he had been the appointed leader of the ‘let’s kill Sukuna’s vessel’ squad.

“I’m here to apologise. For the exchange event, for everything that happened. I know that Fushiguro and the ves- Itadori are very important to you.” His head is low.

Your heart breaks.

This poor boy.

You reach across the desk and pass him another candy.

“You don’t need to apologise Kamo-san. You’re a victim in this situation too. I want to apologise to you. I’m sorry that I can’t do more to stop them, the elders. Satoru and I have been fighting them for years, on all their bullshit. I’m sorry that you and your friends are still being treated as we were in our youth – like weapons.” You smile at him, softly and sadly. The way his bangs fall – he reminds you a bit of Geto. Some of the lingering, heavy sadness he always carried on his shoulders echoes in this boy.

He chews his candy.

“How do you do it, Y/N-Sensei?” He asks, voice gravelly.

“Do what, honey?”

“All of it. The clans, the pressure, the rules, the laws – all of it.”

“Wanna know a secret?”

“Sure.”

“Sometimes, I don’t. Sometimes it all gets too much, too heavy to carry. Luckily, I have Satoru, who I can lean on. Shoko too. And your Utahime-Sensei. You have too much on your plate, too much pressure, I’m sorry Noritoshi. Here, this is my phone number – if you need anything, or if Gakuganji or anyone else gives you shit, send them my way.” You wink at him, knowing full well he’d heard this afternoon's showdown between you and his principal.

You chat for a few more minutes, about his cursed technique and how it’s improving, and you laugh about the elders some more, before Utahime calls him and it’s time for him to go.

“Thank you, Y/N-Sensei. Truly.” He says, halfway out the door.

“You’re a good kid, Kamo. Don’t let them tell you otherwise.”

A minute later a white shock of hair peeps through the door.

“There’s my princess! C’mon, whaddya say we take all the kids to McDonald’s?” Satoru says, peppering your face with kisses.

“Only if you promise to stay out of the soft play area this time, ‘toru. It was a nightmare getting your tall ass out of the slide last time.”

#jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #anime #dad!gojo #family formations extras

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austinsmutler · 11 months

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i think this is the request box??? SORRY UGH))) hi!! first time requesting! Could you do a BDE(or Austin)! Elvis x reader (could use she/her pronouns). Reader is timid and socially awkward. During one of Elvis’ shows, the staff at the venue are being really rude to her while she’s trying to get to his dressing room and saying like “just because you’re sleeping with him doesn’t give you any authority to come back here.” Elvis hears about this and confronts them after the show telling them that if they ever talk to his pretty girl like that again that he would do more than just fire them (FIRST TIME REQUESTING IM SORRY THIS IS A REALLY AWKWARD REQUEST)))

Oooh Anon. You’ve single-handedly pulled me out of my writing block with this request. If I could hug you, I would, but instead enjoy Austin!Elvis wanting to burn the world down to protect reader. I hope it's worth the wait.

Keep sending requests for Austin!Elvis, guys! These are so fun!

It's Only Love - Austin!Elvis x Reader - 2,000 words

What you’ll like: Protective Elvis, BDE Elvis, hurt/comfort, pet names ('baby' and 'pretty girl'), Elvis stands up to Colonel

Warnings: Period-typical misogyny, mild violence (nothing major or graphic but there is some grabbing)

Masterlist | Requests are currently open (Please tell me everything you want!)

“Well I’m leaving town baby, I’m leaving town for sure, then you won’t be bothered with me hanging round your door- but that’s alright…” Your boyfriend drawled into the microphone, leaning in with a sultry sway of his hips that had the crowd sighing.

Elvis’ eyes found yours as he sang, “But that’s alright, that’s alright now mama, any way you do… Woo-hoo!” He howled as the song, and the show, finished.

The girls around you went wild, showering the stage in everything from red roses to their bras. It was always a strange sight, especially when one bra fell over Elvis’ head and he turned to throw it at Bill, the bass player, with a laugh.

You’d been there every step of the way on the tour, from Memphis to Lousianna and all the way to North Carolina. No matter where Elvis went, there was a crowd of girls screaming his name and throwing their garments at his feet.

But you weren’t one of them. Elvis’ eyes always picked you out in the crowd and held you, performing your favorites as a secret serenade in every show.

You’d known Elvis since you were children, growing up together on the outskirts of Tupelo, sneaking into Black Pentecostal churches together, and- slowly as growing up- falling in love.

Your parents hardly had to be persuaded to let you follow him across the country, because you had practically been married since the first time Elvis had grabbed your hand and led you inside the tent as they sang Up Above My Head. Elvis didn’t just teach you the words, he’d burned them into your soul, never letting go of your hand once as you both sang,

“I wanna soothe my heart, I wanna ease my mind, I wanna move my shoes and see what I can find…”

Elvis had found music, but you’d found him.

** **

Usually Elvis would sneak out from backstage and meet you after the show, but with bigger crowds and Elvis more recognizable than ever, you’d agreed it was best for you to simply come backstage from now on. Everyone who worked with Elvis knew you- even the band members affectionately called you Mrs Presley.

Which made it surprising when the bouncers- rare members of the team who weren’t Elvis’ direct friends or family -cut you off.

“Backstage is for band members only.”

“What? Tommy, come on.” You put your hands on your hips, frowning up at the tall man. “You know me.”

“Sorry ma’am, Colonel’s orders.”

“Excuse me?” You caught eyes with Bill, passing behind Tommy. “Hey, Bill!”

“Hey, that's ol’ Mrs Presley!” Bill greeted you with a smile. “C’mon boys, let her through.”

“Backstage is for band members only.” The other bouncer, Tex, repeated. “Sorry Bill.”

You looked at Bill for help, but he was frowning at the other men. “Well, I’m a band member, and she’s with us. Let her through.”

“Can’t. Colonel’s say-so.” Tommy said expressionlessly. “Real sorry, Bill.”

“You’re gonna be.” Bill looked at you. “Wait here, it’s gonna be alright.”

The second Bill was out of earshot, the bouncers focused their attention on you. It was the first time all tour you’d felt… afraid. It was a hot July night and you’d left your cardigan at home. Suddenly your shoulders felt too bare as they looked you up and down, disgust slowly filtering onto their faces.

“Just because you’re fucking the boss doesn’t mean you can come back here.” Tommy growled, while Tex stepped forward to shove you further back.

“He'll be done with you soon enough. Girls like you get boring after a while.”

You bit your lip, fighting back tears, but you instinctively pushed back against the larger man. Tex’s face twisted in rage as he grabbed your arms with bruising strength.

“Don’t think you can get away with that, just because you’re sleeping with Presley.”

He shoved you back so hard you hit the wall. You cried out in shock and pain as your head hit the wall and the world turned blurry.

“What the fuck is going on here?” A low voice growled from behind the bouncers. Elvis, still in his pink and black stage suit.

Bill was with him, but when he saw the scene, he took a step back from the singer as if he’d explode. If it were possible, Elvis would be ticking like a bomb ready to blow.

“Elvis-” Tommy started, but Elvis silenced him with one hand. His dark blue eyes fixed on Tex, who was still in front of you, so uncomfortably close you could smell the sweat under his suit. It made you nauseous.

You were still dazed from your head hitting the wall, unable to speak as Elvis stalked forward. For every step forward Elvis took, Tex took a step back.

“I’m gonna give you one chance to explain what you were doing, touching my girl like that.” Elvis snarled. “And that’s one more chance than you deserve, so be quick.”

“W-well, boss-” Tex suddenly didn’t seem so big, hands at his sides, staring at his shoes. He looked more like a child being scolded. “We didn’t mean to-”

“Then what did you mean to do?” Elvis snapped. He was between you and Tex now, hand grasping yours with a reassuring squeeze. "Cause it looked to me like you were throwing my girl around like a rag doll, which she ain't."

“Listen, we-” Tommy stepped forward, but Elvis interrupted.

“No, you both listen. You’re fired. If I see either of you near my show or my pretty girl again, I’ll do more than just fire you. Got it?”

He didn’t wait for their response, wrapping an arm around you and guiding you backstage to his dressing room. The pain didn’t fully set in until he sat you in his chair. You winced.

Elvis felt at the lump on the back of your head. No skin was broken, but it still throbbed. Colorful bruises were already beginning to form on your arms where Tex had all-but thrown you backwards.

“Oh, no. No, no, no." Elvis murmured when he saw the marks. He was on his knees, looking up at you with a pained expression. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

He kissed every bruise on your skin so softly you barely felt the heat of his lips. All the while he murmured comforting words,

“I ain’t ever gonna let this happen to you again. Never gonna let anything like this happen again. I promise.”

You were silent, replaying Tommy and Tex's words over in your head. They had no idea what they were talking about, but the words still left you with a lingering nausea, far worse than any of the bruising on your body.

“How’s my girl doing?”

“I’m okay.” Your voice was meek, even to your own ears.

"Hey, pretty girl," Elvis frowned, cupping your chin, running his thumb over your bottom lip. “You can tell me.”

And you did. As the tears finally spilled over your eyes, you told Elvis the worst of what the bouncers said. Tension flooded into his shoulders as you repeated their words.

Just because you’re fucking the boss doesn’t mean you can come back here.

“Those sons of-” Elvis caught himself, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, baby. They ain’t ever gonna work again, I'll make sure of it.”

He kissed the back of one hand, then the other. Elvis’ eyeliner was messy after a night of performing, sweat still glazing his skin. He looked… tired. You’d never seen Elvis tired before, and the sight scared you more than anything. For the first time in twenty years of knowing him, he looked less than invincible.

You wiped the sweat from his forehead, leaning down to kiss him.

“I’ll be fine, really.” You smiled weakly. “You didn’t have to fire them.”

“If I ever had to see ‘em again I’d do worse than that, baby.” He pulled you in close to kiss your forehead, then your lips. “I’m gonna talk to the Colonel. Make sure he files a police report and hires real security for our next show.”

You bit your lip, remembering their words. Colonel’s orders. “Elvis…”

Your lip wobbled. Elvis trusted nobody in the world more than the Colonel, aside from his mother. Would he believe you?

Warm hands rubbed up and down your shoulders. “Hey, I’m right here.”

“The Colonel made them do it, they said he said not to let me through.” You blurted out, clamping a hand over your mouth, tears rising to your eyes again. Elvis’ hands froze on your shoulders. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

Elvis stood up. Through your tears, you could see the fire in his eyes. You thought he was angry before? Well, he was furious now. Hands bunched to fists at his sides, he didn't move for a long moment, just stared. Then he left the room without a word.

It was common knowledge you didn’t get along with the Colonel. Elvis considered him a godsend, the man who launched his entire career. You considered him a toad, especially after one conversation you’d overheard in Graceland:

“If the fans know about her, they won’t follow you.”

Elvis thought you’d gone up to bed, but you had lingered to grab a glass of water… and listen to the men talking business. The thought had never crossed your mind before that you were part of that business.

“Little girlfriends, they don’t last. But your music? My dear boy, that is immortal- if you play your cards right.”

Elvis laughed, and your blood froze. Then the laughter stopped abruptly.

“You’re serious? What’re you talking about, Colonel?” Your boyfriend’s voice was light and playful, but there was an edge to it. Something underneath you’d never heard before. “I sing from the heart, and she is my heart. Without her, there’s no music.”

“My boy-”

“Understand me?”

“But-”

“Do you understand me?” The playfulness dropped from his voice. Elvis was easily persuaded to go along with just about anything the Colonel dreamed up (“His plans got us this far, haven’t they?”) but from that night one thing was clear: your relationship was not up for negotiation.

Until tonight.

You stayed there for a while, emptiness settling in your stomach. Elvis didn’t believe you. Why would he? The Colonel had got him this far. Got him a tour in all fifty states. Made him enough money to buy Graceland and as many Cadillacs as he could imagine. You were just a girl from Tupelo, he could find another.

Still, you waited, hoped he’d come back. You could apologize, say you must’ve misunderstood, say anything to get him back. A difficult life with Elvis and the Colonel was better than an empty life without the man you loved.

Minutes turned to a full hour, so you left, dragging your feet towards the exit, hoping your motel room would still be available to you. Elvis wouldn’t leave you in the middle of America, miles from home with no way back, would he?

Distant shouting caught your attention. You recognized Elvis’ voice immediately and followed down the corridor to a slightly-open door that simply said ‘Colonel’.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Elvis shouted so loud it made you jump, even as you paused outside the door to listen. “Who’re you gonna ban next, my mama?”

“Your mother is not the problem, my boy-” The Colonel sounded flustered, barely himself.

“And neither is she!” Elvis snarled, slamming something down inside the room. “Goddammit. I’ve told you before, I sing from the heart. You want to stop that?"

Silence. Had the Colonel ever been lost for words before?

Elvis continued, "Fine, we can break all our promises. How about this? I don’t see her backstage before and after every performance, I don’t sing. Or-" Elvis snapped his fingers, "Better idea, we go public. Let's see how many fans actually follow me for my music. I don't care about the rest of it."

“Elvis-”

“Those are your options. I’ll give you one more chance, but that’s it. And if I ever, ever find out you pulled this horseshit again, you're done."

The Colonel was silent for a while, but perhaps he muttered something quietly, or simply nodded, because the next thing you knew, Elvis was coming out of the room, fists still clenched and face flushed with anger.

All of that melted away when he saw you.

“Baby,” He murmured, taking your hand in his. “What’re you doing out here?”

"I- I thought-" Your body shook, and Elvis took the black jacket from his shoulders to drape it across yours. He led you away from the Colonel's door, back to the privacy of his dressing room.

"You don't have to throw your life away because of me." You finally said.

Elvis smiled, wiping the tears from your cheeks with both hands. "Sweet girl."

Without warning he picked you up and sat back in his chair, holding you on his lap while he peppered your face with kisses.

"A life without you? That's not one I want to be living." He pressed your foreheads together and let out a sigh. "But this right here, you and me? That's what's right. And I will protect that- protect you, Always."

#elvis x reader #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fanfic #elvis imagine #austin!elvis imagine #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis x y/n #hurt/comfort #Protective elvis #elvis fanfic

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just-wrting · 8 months

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Family Time

Title: Family Time

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: It's extreme summer heat and all you want to do is spend time in the pool. Thankfully, you can convince your husband to join you and the kids.

Word Count: 2,923

Master List

A/N: I wrote this when it was super hot outside, 120 Ferhiedt head index, and I wanted to be at the pool with the love of my life so I was just trying to live through this. The next time I post it'll be part 4 I promise! It's just not going how I planned it so I'm, for some reason worried about that.

You do you best to blow a strand of hair out of your face, knowing it’s stuck to your forehead with sweat. It’s almost a hundred degrees outside and you want to melt. You think you might actually be melting, when you feel a bead of sweat travel down your spine.

“Aaron,” you whine, “can you take us to the beach? The ocean is bound to be cooler than the AC.”

Your husband looks up from his paperwork. He’s been inside all day, enjoying the AC, while you went outside with the kids for ten minutes before they decided they didn’t want to be outside either.

“What about the pool? Is that not cool enough?”

“Not according to the kids. I didn’t bother going in.”

Aaron raises his eyebrow. “Why not?”

You stare at him. “Do you not remember the several times I’ve told you that the neighbor is a pervert? I’ll go in the pool if you do.”

You can almost see the thought process he’s going through. On one hand, the paperwork has to be done by Monday. On the other, spending time with you and your kids. Not to mention shoving it to the pervy neighbor that he’s the one who’s married to you.

“Alright. An hour or so in the pool doesn’t sound that bad,” he says, pushing away from the desk.

You grin. “Is that the only reason? Or is this just so you have a chance to see me in my swimsuit and tell the neighbor to fuck off?”

He gives you a smile. “Do my intentions matter? It’s not like you have no secondary reason for me going out there either.”

You don’t bother looking embarrassed. Of course you have a second reason for Aaron joining the family in the pool. You’d go to a lot of lengths to see him out of his work attire. Seeing him in a swimsuit would be great.

“Are you profiling me, honey?” You get up from the couch and move over to the desk. “I thought we agreed to leave work at work.”

Aaron’s hands reach up and settle on your waist. His eyes are soft and loving as he gives you a gentle smile.

“I’m not profiling you, dear, I promise. I just know you so well by now. I sure hope I know you well by now since we’ve been married for so long.”

You give him a quick kiss on the forehead. “Just like I know you well enough to know that you’ve thought about telling the neighbor off in a much worse manner than you do.”

Aaron gives you a look that says ‘let’s not talk about that’ and you chuckle. You remember meeting him for the first time. He cared a lot about people, but he was sure to keep his distance. The man in front of you seems so different from your first impression of him. Now, he was soft, sweet, and probably a bit whipped.

“I’ll get the kids back in their swimsuits while you change. That way you’re already outside once I’m changed,” you tell him before kissing him once more.

He’s quick in moving his head enough that it’s not a peck on the forehead. While it lasts mere seconds, you savor the feeling for as long as possible. The last time one of the kids caught you two in a short kiss, you got the typical ‘ew’ thrown at you. Now you two do your best to be discreet about affection.

Thankfully, the kids had chosen to wrap themselves in towels and lounge around in their suits. You do your best to brush out the knots that had settled into their hair. It took gentle persuasion, and perhaps a bribe, to get them all to sit still. Even Jack, as the eldest, didn’t want to brush his hair.

With a quick pat on the back, you send the kids back outside to the pool. You take a moment to eye your husband up and down as he lifts the little ones into the pool. Sure you’ve seen him in nothing, but you don’t think you’ll ever let a chance to see him like this slip through your fingers.

You sigh. As much as staying in the AC while watching Aaron sounds great, you did agree to head back into the heat. That means changing into your own swimsuit. You do your best to not make a face at the large sweat stains on the tank top, and just throw everything into the laundry basket. It’s a problem for another day.

Ignoring the wave of heat is an issue, as you open the back door letting the steam inside the house. You grimace. You despised this sort of hot, humid, and sticky heat. The ground burns your feet as you walk to the pool. With a quick jump, you land in the pool.

The relief is immediate. The way the cool water feels against your skin has you sighing with happiness. The kids clearly wanted to swim in ice as this feels great. You push your head out of the water and wipe the water from your face.

“You kids lied to me,” you scold as you chase down your youngest, Grace. “Why ever would you lie to me? You’re always begging to be in the pool.”

She gives a squeal as you pick her up. The water makes it easier and you quickly dunk her back under. Aaron chases Jack around the pool to give him the same treatment.

“But I wanna go to the beach!” your middle child whines. “The pool is boring.”

You scoff. “Do you know how hot the sand will be, Chase? You’ll burn your little toes off before you even get to the water.”

Grace fills a water gun up and takes aim. You watch as she sprays Chase in the back of the head. The two of them engage is sibling warfare, completely forgetting the beach as the try to get the other to give up.

Jack has made his way around to you. He puts his hands on your shoulders and peers over you. Aaron is still approaching and you can see Jack’s pout in the corner of your eye.

“Don’t you dare get my hair wet, dad,” he says as sternly as he can muster. “You’ll ruin it.”

You know that since you aren’t safe, neither is Jack. Your point is proven when Aaron pulls you off balance and into him. Despite the love in his eyes, his hands reach up to your shoulders and he pushes you under the water. As soon as you are out of the way, shaking water from your hair, he resumes his pursuit of Jack.

You hear a chorus of ‘get him dad’ and ‘no no no’ echo from your kids. It’s followed but a triumphant yell from the younger two as you watch Jack get submerged.

“Ugh now I have to redo my hair for my thing later.”

“Oh so now it’s more than just a movie with some friends. It’s a ‘thing’” you tease him. “Is there gonna be someone you have a crush on?”

His face starts to turn red, and he shoves water at you. Given that he’s almost at that age, you want to tease him a lot, but you opt to leave it be. If he’s like his dad, he’ll talk about it when it get to be too much.

The rest of the hour is spent getting ganged up on by the kids and Aaron. The five of you engage in an exhausting amount of shenanigans that douse you all in enough water to make you sick of the pool. You know you’ve gotten far more water than you’d like up your nose.

“Alright, I think that’s enough. I’ve got more paperwork to do.”

The kids take a moment before settling down. Each has a little pout, and you know that the pleading will start any minute now.

“How about we order a pizza?” you whisper into Aaron’s ear. “Tell them if they’re fast in the shower we’ll get some pizza.”

You both know that wasn’t the original plan for dinner, but it’s well deserved. It was too late for you to start dinner anyway, as the recipe says over an hour and it’s already 4:30.

“If the three of you can be quick, you can order pizza.”

The kids clamor to get out of the pool. It’s a race to get into the showers first and you watch as they nearly trip over their feet. There’s a smile on you face and you know Aaron’s watching you.

Once the kids disappear into the house, you hear Aaron move closer. Soon, his hands are on your hips and his head is in the crook of your neck. Each kiss up your neck and across your jawline leaves you flustered.

“Aaron,” you mumble. “You are aware that you’re being risky, right?”

Even in the heat, you can feel your body get even warmer at his touch.

“I’m not doing anything super inappropriate. If the neighbor didn’t want to see me kissing you, he shouldn’t be watching you.”

He ends his kisses at your cheek. His hands move from your hips to your back, leading you to the edge of the pool. He gets out first. Like the gentleman he is, he helps you out as well. After getting out, his hand doesn’t leave yours.

“So you were just shaming him?” you ask, elbowing him. “We could talk to his wife.”

Aaron has a cheeky grin plastered on his face. “I didn’t want to waste the opportunity to show him you’re taken. I’m not in habit of letting people ogle at you.”

You giggle. “Uh huh. Go shower so you can finish your paperwork. I’m sure the kids would like to have you while they have pizza and movie night.”

He presses one last kiss to your temple. “Of course, my love. I’ll do my best to make sure I’m there.”

You hear a fake gagging noise from the staircase. There, crouched just enough to see you from the top of the stairs, is the two youngest. They’re making faces at you and Aaron.

“Ewwww! They’re in love!” They make more grossed out noises.

“And maybe one day you’ll be in love and want to give someone kisses like this.” You punctuate your sentence by giving Aaron an exaggerated kiss on the cheek.

“Nuh uh!” Grace protests. “I won’t wanna kiss anyone!”

Chase pipes in, “Yeah! I don’t like any of the girls in my class! They have cooties.”

“Well, I don’t love anyone!”

Aaron gives you a wink before putting his hand over his heart. He scrunches up his face and closes his eyes.

“Oh no! I can’t believe that my little girl doesn’t love me!”

Within seconds, her face goes from proud to sad. She runs down the stairs as fast as her legs will take her and wrap her arms around Aaron. You stifle a laugh. You’re going to scold him later.

“I didn’t mean you, daddy!” she cries as her bottom lip trembles.

“But you just said you didn’t love anyone, and I’m anyone.”

She shakes her head back and forth. “I love you! I love all of you!”

Aaron looks down and picks her up. “You mean it? You love me?”

She nods and gives a little sniff. “Uh huh.”

He kisses her cheek. “I’m glad that I’m an exception to you ‘don’t love anyone’ thing.”

You elbow him and he passes her to you. You press as many kisses as you can along her cheeks and she breaks out into giggles. Chase lets Aaron go passed on the stair and you’re the one left with them.

“Don’t worry, he was just teasing you okay?” you reassure her. “I’ll scold him later so do be sad.”

Grace nods and you set her back down. You’ve forgotten how heavy kids get as they get older. It seems like yesterday they were so little you could easily pick them up. Now the only one who can is Aaron.

“How about you two go to the kitchen and figure out where you want pizza from. As soon as Jack gets down here, we’ll order.”

The two of them rush into the kitchen, pulling out the coupon book. You stand in the doorway watching them carefully. They know that you’ll get them what they ask for, since you and Aaron spoil them sometimes.

It doesn’t take long for Jack to join you. He stands next to you and shakes his head.

“Thanks for letting us get pizza. Is dad gonna join us for a movie?”

He looks at you hopefully. You don’t wanna promise him anything, but you want him to be hopeful. So you ruffle his hair and nod.

“I’ll drag him away if I have to. What time is your movie tonight?”

You know the pizza will take about a half hour to get here if the kids want the same place they usually do. Plus if you pick a shorter movie everything should be okay.

“It’s a 7:30. Brandon’s mom is gonna be with us.”

You give him a kiss on his forehead. “Alright. I’ll make sure you make it on time. Can you help them pick a place and toppings while I shower? Your dad will be down in a few minutes.”

Jack is silent, but joins his siblings at the table. He waves you away, and you’ll be sure to give him some extra cash for the movie theater. He said he could pay for it with his allowance, but you appreciate the moments he helps out.

You knock on the master bathroom door and open it a crack.

“Aaron, Jack’s watching the other two so if you could go there after you shower that would be great. I’m going to shower myself.”

Once he agrees, you head to the other shower. You wish you could take your time, but you know how important Aaron’s job is. The kids would be fine for a few minutes, just not the few hours he needs.

Thankfully, you’re quick and it’s nothing more than an in and out shower. You’ve scrubbed the chlorine from your scalp and skin within a few minutes and rub your hair aggressively with the towel. It’s still occasionally dripping down onto your shirt, but you’ll deal.

—-

The rest of the night goes smoothly with little issue. The biggest issue is convincing Grace and Chase to go to bed at their bedtime, but you’re successful. By 10:30, all three kids are at home and in bed. You take this opportunity to go into the office and sink into the extra chair.

“I’m almost done, love. This is the last one for the night, I promise.”

You hum in response but don’t make any move for conversation. Instead you close your eyes and listen to the scribble of pen on paper. You find comfort just in being around Aaron.

“I’ll tell Grace that I was just teasing her tomorrow morning. I hope she wasn’t too upset.”

You give him a soft smile. “She’s not, she just takes everything we say so seriously. She just wants you to that she loves you and everyone else in this house.”

“I know she does. I’ll tell her that in the morning,” Aaron reassures you. “I’ll even talk to the neighbor tomorrow too. Remind him that you’re not available to be looked at like that.”

You sigh, hoping that he doesn’t do something stupid. Sure you want the guy to leave you alone, but as long as you have Aaron you’ll be fine. He won’t let anything happen to you.

Hearing the files be tucked away in the desk causes you to open your eyes. Aaron is closing the drawer, and you make a face. You’ve just gotten comfortable.

“Come here, dear.” Aaron puts his hands out. “Let’s go to bed.”

You set your hands in his, and he pulls you to your feet. For a moment, you linger in front of him. You know that if you hug him, you’re not going to want to let go. You just want him near.

His hand makes its way to your back, and you let him guide you to the bedroom. You flop into the bed and sigh. You’ve been up for far longer than you’re used to. The heat made it a struggle to stay asleep.

The bed dips under Aaron’s weight and you hear him chuckle. You grumble a bit as he rolls you onto your side, not wanting to move. After his arm wraps around you, you quiet. His body is pressed against yours, and while you hate the extra heat you’re glad to be held.

“Thank you, my love,” he whispers into your ear.

“For what?”

He places kisses along your neck and shifts his leg over yours. “For dragging me out of my office. For insisting that I spend time with the family. I think I lose track of time in there and I’m glad you’re here to get me away from the job.”

You twist yourself and press a tired kiss to his lips. “I wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t think I could do that. You couldn’t escape me at the office and you can’t escape me here. You’re stuck with me, Aaron.”

When he laughs, you can feel it in his chest. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#reader insert #criminal minds #aaron hotch #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotchner #criminal minds aaron hotch

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newtonsheffield · 9 months

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I love how Kate noticed straight away while Anthony didn’t notice until he left the house, such a typical Dad move 😂😂

But imagine the twins get the rest of the family in on it the next time they swap and everyone gaslights Kate and Anthony into thinking one twin is the other.

Anthony, absolutely mortified as the optometrist’s assistant looks at him as though he’s a terrible father for bringing the wrong kid to pick up glasses.

“I… know my sons apart. They’re… identical twins and they think it’s… funny to… I’ll just take these, and if there are any fitting issues I’ll just… bring the actual… kid in.”

He scooped Neddy up still giggling wildly at his own joke as Anthony paid.

“He’s a cutie.”

“His mother neglected to tell me her grandmother was a twin before we got married.” Anthony said by way of explanation. “I was 21 when he was born and… not prepared.”

But imagine Edwina, grabbing Miles by the back of Neddy’s Tshirt. “Milo, are we tricking Amma and Dad again?”

Miles grinned, his glasses abandoned. “Yep!”

Edwina sighed, leaning against the doorframe, her arm held out to stop Ben who was walking by. “Well why didn’t you tell me and Uncle Benny so we could get in on it?”

Ben blinked, narrowing his eyes, “Is this Miles?”

“Yep.”

Ben held his hand up for his Nephew to high-five “Genius. Neddy pretending to be you or are you both pretending to be Neddy?”

“We’re both Neddy.”

“Excellent.” Edwina chuckled. “Go, go go.”

“Should we feel bad about gaslighting them do you think?” Ben sighed as they left.

“I don’t think so.”

And it’s hardly five minutes with Edwina tutting sadly, “Do you two really not know how to tell your own sons apart? Sad.”

Anthony pinched the bridge of his nose, “They look exactly the same!”

“You’re the one who thought it would be cute to buy them matching clothes!” Kate hissed back at him.

“This one’s Neddy, I’m sure of it!”

“Are we?” Ben said, smirking, “I wouldn’t be.”

“You two helping with this is the most hurtful part.”

#parent trap au #you’re losing me au #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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andydrysdalerogers · 1 month

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Presley ~ A Curtis Everett AU ~ Part Eight

Curtis Everett x OFC Presley Adams

Synopsis:

Curtis Everett is a hard working man. As the head of the mob of Concord, he does everything he can to provide for his wife and children. His life is perfect. Until it's not.

After a devastating accident, Curtis is alone with his children and needs some serious help.

Presley Adams needs to find work and fast. Running from her past she just wants to lay low and earn enough to get her out of town. Until she starts working for Curtis as his live in nanny.

As she falls in love with this family, can she stop her past from finding her? Or will her past be the end of the Everett reign in Concord?

Book two of the Five Kings of Boston series

Warning: themes of a mafia lifestyle; SMUT; possessive tendencies; murder; death; age gap; rape

Banners by me! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Part Seven

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter Eight ~ Negotiations

Presley

I’ve never given much thought on how my life would end.

When I was trapped in my father’s house and slated to marry Charles, I had considered taking my own life just to escape. But my mother, bless her, she knew and convinced me that she would get me away from this life. When I was on the run, I feared a bullet being put into me. The last year was the first time that I hadn’t thought about my demise. For the first time, I could plan a future. I could see myself having love with Curtis, raising our children. We had talked and we always wanted more.

It wasn’t suppose to be like this. Mama had said that marriage was hard work but that love would be the foundation. I had asked her once whether she loved my father. She told me she used to. A lot of things had changed after the war we had when i was a child. That was the reason he could no longer have children, an accident. After the war, my father changed and was no longer my papa. He starting making plans on how to protect his family, his legacy. I was a princess and now I was just a pawn.

Enter Charles.

He was sweet, once. When we were introduced, he had charm, charisma. A good looking man from an under family. He had saved one of my cousins and earned favor with my father. My engagement was announced a month later. He just had to wait until I turned 18.

Then came the library.

It was a typical mafia soiree, food, liquor, music. I needed a moment to breathe. I was feeling nervous. My birthday was in less than a month away. I wasn’t ready to be a wife and my mother had been pleading with my father to wait until I was older. But my father refused. So, I was sulking in the library, emotional over all the congratulatory wishes we were getting. I had to stand by his side. At the time, I was happy to marry Charles. I would be queen of this family as my father has always said. But when someone mentioned starting a family right away, a surge of unease filtered into my belly and I needed a moment.

“You’re hiding, love.” I turned to look back at Charles.

“I just needed a moment to take it all in.” I smiled to comfort him. “Its a little overwhelming.”

“Yes, it is. But when we are in charge, you will want for nothing, be worried for nothing.” He kissed my forehead. “I promise, everything will be fine.”

“I know you will take care of me, Charles. But, I am nervous about being intimate and having kids. I wanted to see the world and live a little. I wanted to spend time with my husband before we are parents.” I looked back out the window.

“I can’t believe you are so innocent in this world.” He pressed up next to me and I could feel how aroused he was at the idea of me being innocent.

“Charles, please, I just need space,” as I moved to push him away.

“Oh, darling, I’m just looking for a taste.” He grabbed my hands to put them over my head. My dress, which he had requested be shorter than I liked, rode up to the tops of my thighs. “You are gorgeous, my little innocent flower, mi Piccola.” He kissed me hard. I struggled to break free but he had a tight hold on me. With my wrists in one hand, Charles used his other hand to skim from my knee up my dress. “Fuck, so hot right here,” pressing on my center.

I screamed. He tried to silence me but the sound caused my guard, Natalia, to rush the room. My mother had been looking for me and ran in with her. Natalia pulled Charles off of me and threw him to the ground. “You’ll never lay a hand on her again or I will gut you like a fish.”

Charles picked himself up and dusted off his clothes. “You will regret this,” he told her. “All of you!” He stormed out. I was sobbing in my mother’s arms.

“Sweetie, this is bad,” my mother says to me. “We need to get you out of here. Natalia, in my sewing room is an envelope with Ameila’s name on it in the bottom drawer. Grab it and wait for us in the garden.” My mother grabbed my face. “You’re gonna be ok. You just keep running.” She walked me out to the back of the house, away from the party.

“Natalia will know what to do. Just keep moving. Change your name if you can Ameila.” We made it to the back fence. Natalia was there with a small backpack. “Take care of her.” She kissed Nat’s forehead. “Keep her safe. I will distract them for as long as I can.” She looked at me. “I love you princessa. Remember that.” She took of the necklace she wore, my favorite and sent me into the night.

I didn’t know that would be the last time I ever saw her.

We ran and for some reason, a car flashed it lights. “I called in a favor,” Natalia told me. A man behind the wheel didn’t say anything as we climbed in. But before I closed the door, I heard a shot in the night.

We ran for two years before we got separated. They had found us, my father’s men and Natalia led them in a different direction. I thought she was dead as well. I found my way into Massachusetts and met Cat. The rest is history. I thought I was safe, that i found a home. My future was in my sight.

I didn’t see that I would be back in Charles’s clutches.

He paces in front of me, speaking on the phone. I keep digging my nails into my palms, trying to stop my body from trembling. I can only imagine who he is on the phone with. Probably my father. He finally hangs up and turns to me. “I’ve been waiting six years to find you Amelia.”

“My name is Presley.” Why am I being defiant to a psychotic man?

“That’s right. Marco did say that you changed your name. Legally as well.” He smiled. I remember that smile. Ladykiller, my mother called it once. “We’ll change it back once we are married.”

“I’m not getting married.”

It was like he was lightning. One second he was on the side of the room, the next he was in front of me, grabbing my chin so I would look at him. “If I say we are getting married, then we are getting married. Do you understand me? DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?” I nodded, scared to open my mouth. This is the lunatic that my father chose for me. “Good.” He planted a kiss on my lips and it took everything not to gag. “Now, we leave in an hour, so freshen up, we have a drive a head of us.”

Once we were in the car, Marco driving with another guard I had never met, Charles took my hand and intertwined our fingers. When I tried to pull away, he just tightened his grip. “You’re hurting me,” I whispered.

“Then behave.” Charles sighed. “You know Presley, I wish we had the last six years.”

“Why? You just wanted to use me.” I kept looking out the window, tears slowly running down my face.

“I thought you and I were made for each other. I only ever wanted a taste. I was never going to hurt you, sweetheart. But you decided to scream. And everything was ruined. Your father though, he is a smart man. He still made me his right hand and I’ve slowly taken over. The men answer to me.” He squeezed my hand until I looked at him. “I am the head of the Giovanni family now by reputation. After I make you my wife, I’ll be the head of this family forever.”

“You’re a monster.”

“Stick and stones, sweetheart. You could have been in a position of power. Standing by my side. But now, well now, now you are going to be my little slut. I’ll keep you chained to our bedroom, naked and waiting for me to use you as my personal cumdrop. Whenever I need a release, it will be in your little whore pussy.” He voice was calm, smooth, as if his words weren’t deploring, deprecating. He grasped my by my hair to tilt my head so I could look up at him. “I always win, princessa. It took six years to take power from yur father but I can bet that it will take less time to break you.”

I struggled to get away from him put he pinned me as he got close to my face. “Don’t touch me,” I cried.

“You’re mine, Piccola and I will do whatever I want.” He inhaled my scent and then kissed my neck. “I can’t wait to make you submit.”

Yes, I was back in my nightmare.

Charles

Leaving my princess in her cell, I moved to the living room. My men were preparing for our departure from Camden. We need to leave before the King of Camden knows we are in his city. “How much longer?” I ask.

Sid answers, “five minutes, just waiting for the last car.” The plan is set.

“Excellent. Sid, get our Queen and put her in my car.” I fixed the cuffs of my suit and turned to Marco, my second. Are the preparations ready?

“Yes sir. The ceremony site is ready and we have Mrs. Giovanni’s dress for Amelia.”

“Perfect.” Once I married her, I was changing her name back. I fucking hate that name. Presley. She’s been my Amy, my Amelia, my Piccola, my queen. And I was going to demonstrate my power to the family.

Everett thinks he got the underhand on me yesterday. Showing old man Giovanni the supposed “proof” of my indiscretions was a step too far. All of those were willing participants. At least they were, once I fucked them hard enough to render them stupid. I made all of them sign NDAs after I had them. All except my cousins and Mrs. Barber. She had tasted the sweetest. Fucking Lloyd spoiled that taste for me.

Its been about four hours since Amelia was taken from the Everett compound and my phone buzzes. I smile because I know who it has to be. “Hello Mr. Everett.”

“You little fucking bastard!”

I laughed. "You told me twenty four hours. Well I did it in four. Look at that.”

“I will find you and I will get back my girl.”

“She was never yours,” I growl. “She has always been mine. Happy hunting, Mr. Everett.” I hung up on him and walked out to the cars. “Let’s go!”

Amelia is seated right next to me, holding herself as far away from me as possible. “You’ll enjoy being my Queen, Amelia.”

“Presley,” she whispers.

“I hate that name,” I growl. “We’ll change it as soon as possible.” My phone rings again and I smile. “Mario, what can I help you with?” I put the phone on speaker.

“Do you have my daughter?”

I hold the phone out towards her. She looked at me and I growl lowly to her. Her lips tremble before she answers. “Hi papa.”

“Lia.” I can see Amelia’s eyes begin to water. I knew that was her nickname she had when she was a child. It's something that she probably hadn’t heard in years. “Are you ok?” What the fuck is this question? The man has never cared for his child in the time I knew him.

She looks at me terrified and I nod for her to answer. “I’m ok.”

“Good. I will see you in a few hours, figlia.”

“Si, papa.” She looks away from the phone but I can see the tears running down her face.

“Everything alright Mario?” I could have sworn I heard something in his voice. He wasn’t usually affectionate with his daughter but then again its been six years since he’s seen her.

“Nothing, Blackwood. Just get her here.”

He hangs up and I turned back to Amelia. “I can’t wait for our wedding night, Piccola.” I run a hand up her leg. I wish she had been in a dress or skirt so I could feel the smooth skin I remembered. But she slaps my hand away.

“Do not touch me,” she seethes.

I won’t let this behavior continue. I grab her by her hair at the root and pull her head towards me. She cries out and as much as I love that sound, I need to ignore it. “You are mine Amelia. I can do whatever i want with you. Do you understand?” When she doesn’t answer, I yank harder. “Say it.”

She whimpers. “I’m yours.”

I kiss her hard. Finally, I have what has been mine for the last ten years.

Curtis

I’m pacing.

That call with Blackwood put me on my last nerve. Jake is tracking the necklace. She never takes it off. It subtle enough that no one things its worth anything. That’s why Presley liked it so much. But her ring, well her ring will be a show stopper. I want the world to know she is mine.

“She’s still stopped at the same location,” Jensen says. “Its still in Camden.”

“Sir, are you sure you don’t want to reach out to the King of Camden? He could have the house surrounded in an hour,” Clint asks.

“No, something like that could trigger them to hurt her.” I knew I could call Ari and have him help but this was my war. I do send him a message, as a courtesy.

Everett: Levinson, heads up, there is a situation happening in a house in Camden. We have a feeling it will move in the next hour but I wanted you to be aware. Levinson: Need help? Everett: not yet. I don’t want to risk her or your men. Levinson: Her? Your queen? You know our agreement is we help Everett: I know. I have an insider and they have advised to stand down for now. We’re tracking her. Levinson: You know Jennie and I would do anything if needed. Everett: I know. I’ll let you know.

I put down phone and resume my pacing. I need to get her back. the visual of my children asking for their momma hurts my chest so much, I actually rub at it. It feels like hours have passed but in reality its just been a few minutes. My phone rings. “Yes?”

“They are moving. To New Jersey.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll wait for you.” The line goes dead.

I face my team. “Jersey. Let’s get ready.” The men move to grab their gear but I see one person who is waiting. “Nat?”

“I’m coming with you.” The determination is set on her face.

“Natasha, that is not a good idea,” Clint starts to say but I stop him.

“Nat, are you sure? This will be dangerous and I don’t think Presley would want you to be in danger.” I put my hands on her shoulders. “Tell me you’re sure.”

“It was my job to get her to safety. I’m just finishing the job that Mrs. Giovanni gave me. Please, let me finish my work.”

I nodded. “It’s your right but you listen to either me or Clint.” She nodded. “Let’s move.”

I watched the blinking light on the monitor Jensen handed to me. Hang on Kitten, I’m coming for you.

Presley

A few hours later and I know I am back in hell.

Well, my own personal hell.

I’m back in my father’s house.

Charles escorts me into the house. It looks the same, as if time stood still. I looked around and saw the one thing that had changed. In the corner stood a painting of my mother and me. There were fresh flowers positioned around it. I took a step towards it to read the plaque.

Beloved Wife and Daughter

Forever In Our Hearts

He has got to be joking. I scoff at the painting and turn back and freeze.

“Lia.”

One word. Its one word that until today I hadn’t heard in years. Its a direct hit to my heart and it cracks.

“Papa.”

My father rushes and pulls me into his arms. I remember this type of hug. It’s the type of hug I missed after I left. After I had disappointed him. “Mi Bambina,” he cradles my face. “I wish you had disappeared figlia,” he whispered. I’m confused.

“I wish I had too.” A tear slides down my cheek and he brushes it away.

“Figlia, non aver paura. C'è un piano per farti uscire di qui. Ricorda solo tutto quello che ti ho insegnato.” (Daughter, don't be afraid. There is a plan to rescue you. Just remember everything I have taught you.)

The one downfall of Charles Blackwood is that he didn’t learn enough Italian. I’ve been fluent since I was five years old. My father has a plan. A plan to have me rescued.

“Si papa.” I look to Charles. “He said to take me to my room and wait for him there.”

“Fine.” Charles takes my arms and moves me up the stairs. “You know, I’m not stupid, Amelia. I know your father said something else to you.” We enter my room and he spins me to be pressed against the now closed door. He whole body seems to be covering me. “What did he say, Amelia? Don’t lie.”

I try to push him away but it’s useless. I slump against the door and look at him. He said this wasn’t part of the plan but that I earned it.

Charles smiles sinisterly. “This is the plan, baby. I’m getting what I was owed six years ago.” He tears at my shirt and i scream.

“Stop! Let go of me!” I swing my arms but then he grabs them and pins them over my head with one hand while the other roams my body.

“You’re so soft Piccola. And warm. Are you warm everywhere?” He undoes the button of my jeans and slides a hand in. “Oh yes, warm and wet.”

“I don’t want this, please stop,” I plead.

“No,” he says as he pushes a finger in. I squeal at the intrusion and its like he gets off on it. “So tight Piccola. Does Everett not please you enough? Is he just that small?” I shake my head but he stops it with a sharp thrust into my pussy and his palm buts my clit. I gasp and Charles chuckles. “So responsive.”

He starts to pump his fingers at an unrelenting pace. “Come for me Piccola. Scream out my name.”

“No!” I try to close my legs but he forces them open with his thigh. He’s fucking me with his fingers and my traitorous body begins to tingle. A soft moan escapes from the amount of pleasure he is giving me. I close my eyes and thing of Curtis. Curtis is doing this to me. Curtis loves me and loves to see my body break for him.

“That’s it, Piccola. Give in. Let me feel you break.” Charles curls his fingers and I shatter. I cry as my orgasm washes over me. He doesn’t stop. He works me through it until i collapse in his arms. Only then does he remove his hand. He takes his cum soaked fingers and licks them clean. “Delicious.” He pushes me so I’m on my knees, ripping away my clothes and takes me from behind. No matter how much I scream or cry, he is unrelenting until he finishes inside me. “I can’t wait until i can do that every night,” he tells me as he button ups. He yanks me towards the bed and I fall beside it. “Stay here until its time.” He exits and locks te door from the outside.

I curl up on the floor and cry. I cry for the humiliation, the degradation, the stolen pleasure.

I cry because now, I’m not sure Curtis will want me after Charles took what wasn’t his.

Curtis

Where half an hour from the Giovanni cmpound when I get a text.

MG: She’s here. Security is heavy.

I smirk as I read the message. Its amazing what people will do to right the past.

Fifteen minutes after the meeting ends....

“Everett, can I have a word?”

I looked at Mario Giovanni. “I thought we are done negotiating. Shouldn’t your successor be here?”

Mario looked around. “Please Curtis. For my daughter?”

That set off the alarm bells. “What about her?”

“Walk with me.” I walked out to his yard. “You know, this was Amelia’s favorite place. Her uncles and I had built her a play house for her princess parties.” I see a dilapidated wooden house that has ivy growing over it. “Many of my associates said I should get rid of it to remove the memory of my traitorous daughter. But no, its the only thing I have of her. Its also the only place where the camera and microphones can’t reach.”

My head whipped to him but he motioned to keep quiet. “The guards will give me a minute so pay attention.” I nodded. “You will receive a call in a few hours that my daughter will have been taken from your home. Charles will have someone take her and he will work to bring her back here. You need to go home and check on your family. I will ensure my daughter is safe.”

“Why would you allow it to happen?”

“Because he can’t be stopped. I will keep you updated on what is happening. Allow him to think you are chasing him. I will do my best to protect her.”

“Why now?”

“I will explain later but for now, know that I love my daughter very much.”

Present

As we assemble down the street, Jensen pulls up a map of the house that Mario had provided. “According to our insider, there are guards on every landing on each staircase. We need to send in someone in to distract. The problem is, we don’t know where Blackwood, Giovanni or any other guards are or stationed.”

“Giovanni is in his garden,” I said, unblinking. “We only have to contend with Blackwood and his minions.”

My team looks at me before Clint clears his throat. “We can access the attic if we are quick on the side,” he points. “Coming from up top gives us an advantage.”

“I’ll do it,” Natasha volunteered.

“No,” I reply. “I need you to be the eyes for us since you know the house. We’ll send Johnny up.” I looked at the man, Johnny Storm. “Think you can handle that kid?”

“No problem. I’ll cause a diversion.”

“Get into places,” I tell them. I look at Natasha. “Are you sure?”

“I owe her and her mom to get her back alive.” Natasha pulled her red curls into a pony tail.

“Just watch yourself,” I said and kiss her forehead. “You’ll be in alone for a bit to scope. I’ll be thirty seconds behind you.”

Natasha nods. “If anything happens, the combination to the lock box in my room is 12-03-19-84.”

“Nat, if...”

“This is the life I chose when I joined the Giovanni family. This is just a precaution. I plan on coming back and marrying Adam.”

My gut is telling me this is a bad idea but I just nod and she gears up. My coms crackle and I hear Johnny, “Flame on.” Smoke billows from the side of the house before I hear him again. “I’m on the roof.”

“Ok, Nat, you’re up.” She moved but I stopped her. “Please be careful.”

“Take care of our girl ok?” Nat smiles. “See you in a minute.” She enters the house and I send a prayer.

I’m listening to comms as different people enter the house at different points. “Breaching the attic,” I hear Storm say. I can hear thumps as people hit the ground. Clint taps me on the back and we move into the house. Each area is clear as I see a couple of Blackwood’s goons on the floor. “Natasha,” I whisper. “Where are you?” Silence greets me and I look at Clint.

“May be she got bogged down, he replies. I have the layout. Presley’s old room was on the third floor to the left. I think she may be there.”

“Ok, let’s move.” We move through the staircase, checking bodies as we go. We get to the mid-landing between the second floor and the third floor and I see a shock of red hair under another body. “No!” I pull the goon off of Natasha and her eyes are closed, two bullet wounds across her chest, blood trickling from her wounds. “Nat!”

“Sir, we have to move,” Clint says. “I’ll call someone to get her. We won’t leave her. We need to get to our queen.”

There is water in my eyes. Presley's best friend is gone and she may never forgives me for this. I wipe at my eyes and then hear a blood-curdling scream. Its my girl, my Kitten, my queen.

My Presley.

I charge up the stairs and follow her screams. I kick in the door and see Charles holding Presley, using her as a human shield, a gun to her head. “Let her go, Blackwood,” I growl.

He just laughs. “Who do you think has the upper hand here? I know its not you.”

“Kitten, are you okay?” She nods but squeaks when Charles tightens his grip. “Stop!”

“Never. She is mine.” He turns his face towards her and sniffs her hair before kissing her cheek. “Hmm, she smells good enough to eat.” His sinister smile tuns back to me. “Now, drop your weapon and step back out. Another move towards us and I will cut her.”

“Ok, ok.” I dropped my gun and kicked it towards them. I raised my hands and move towards to the door. “I love you Kitten.”

“I love you,” she rasped.

“How very touching,” Charles sneered. “Now...” before he could finish the sentence, Presley elbowed him, causing him to drop the knife. I grabbed her arm and pulled her towards me.

“Curtis!” She wrapped around me. I kissed her head, thankful she was ok.

“Go, Clint is on the stairwell.” I spun us around, my back to the room. “I’m sorry Kitten but I need you to run.”

Presley’s eyes widen.“Curtis look out!”

I turned back and that when I felt the knife slide into my gut, my eyes now on the face of the deranged man holding it

Presley

I watched in horror as Charles stuck the knife into Curtis. I screamed and Charles pulled the knife back out.

“Look at what you made me do, Piccola. I ruined my shirt.” He laughed as Curtis fell to his knees and then his back, holding on to the wound. Charles just laughed and laughed, like the psychotic animal that he is. I feel to my knees and put pressure on the wound.

“Hang on baby, just hang on. Clint!” I screamed as Charles began to wipe the tears of laughter from his face, smearing Curtis’s blood on himself.

“You sound like you want to save him, Amelia. Why? You’re mine.” He was starting to make sense again and I knew my time was limited. I saw Curtis’s gun on the floor. I grabbed it and stood up, pointing it at him “What are you going to do, Amelia? Shoot me?”

“I could. Or I could send you away for a long time.” I griped the gun tighter, trying not to end this so fast.

“Do you even know how to use that, Amelia? Hmm, I bet you are so scared right now. Hand me the gun Amelia. Be a good girl.” He reached for it and I took a step back.

“It's funny you think that I don’t know how to use this, Charles. I’m a mafia princess. My father and my uncles have been teaching me about guns since I was five years old. The most dangerous person in this room is me.” I cocked the gun back and pointed the gun back at Charles.

“You’re too sweet, too innocent to murder me Amelia. You really want to live with that sin on your conscience?” He mocked me.

“For the last fucking time, my name is Presley.”

Every seen a bullet hit a skull? It has an interesting effect, especially as close range. Rather gross.

Charles head snapped back and he was dead before he hit the ground. I dropped the gun and went back to Curtis. “Hang on baby, ok, someone is coming to help ok?”

Curtis looked up at me and smiled, blood already coating his teeth. “I’m happy I got to see you again, Kitten,” he labored. “Will miss you.”

“No, don’t say that, Curtis. You promised to marry me, you promised we could make babies, to make siblings for Joshie and Evie,” I sob. “Clint! Please, someone help!!”

Curtis reaches up to cup my face. “I love you. Tell them I love them too. Take care of them.”

“I love you too, but please. No! Curtis, no! Please don’t leave me! Curtis, don’t close your eyes!”

I don’t feel the mass of people that rush into the room to help him. All I can see are his eyes closing for the last time.

“Curtis!”

Epilogue

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st0ryf1lms · 2 years

Text

dancing with our hands tied ➳ stephen strange

pairing: stephen strange x reader

word count: 1.9k

genre/warnings: NO SPOILERS FOR DSMOM IN THIS FIC, 50% angst, 50% fluff but its happy ending, just one 'asshole' there & no more, toxic family & friends, stephen & reader have an age gap maybe 5-10 yrs at best, typical stephen being an ass HAHAHSHS, stephen might be a little ooc

synopsis: after receiving too many comments about you & stephen's relationship, you just had enough of it and burst.

a/n: the synopsis doesn’t really do the fic justice im just really bad at making synopses im so sorry 😭 but anyway, this is my first mcu fic in this blog yay! i’ve been thinking abt it for a long time now & i finally did it! i hope yall enjoy it as much as i super LOOOOOVED writing it hehe ok i’ll stop now happy reading!!

edit: this is now cross-posted on ao3!

"Y/N, c'mon, he's older than you. You can do better than this."

"Oh, come on, Strange. Really? A kid? She's young, she's still got a lot to see in the world. You could do better."

"You can do better."

You tossed and turned in your bed, trying your very best to drift off to a peaceful slumber without any interruption. You took in a deep breath and let out a big sigh before pushing yourself up to sit up on your bed. Apparently, the words of your family members and their friends had gotten their way to you and you asked for a break with your lover. You felt guilty, of course, who would want to push the love of their life away for a bunch of gossip and hearsay?

Last week, you came to your annual family reunion held at your grandparents' house. You went without Stephen because he didn't want to intrude into your family's traditions. The moment you arrived, you were bombarded with so many questions not even a celebrity surrounded by paparazzi could handle. They took the opportunity of your boyfriend's absence to ask you all about him. Questions that included "Y/N, honey, I don't like that boy", "are you really sure about him?", "is there no way we could change your mind? There are other men out there, my dear", and the one that struck you deep like a knife — "Y/N, sweetie, you could do better than him."

Stephen had been receiving a lot of those comments as well. He recently attended the wedding of Dr. Christine Palmer, who felt ecstatic for the sorcerer because he finally found the happiness he deserved. He can't say the same about the other doctors, though. Every time they approached him, they would ask him — "why her?", "Stephen, she's so young for you", "she could leave you for a younger man for all we know", and that one six-word sentence, "you could do better than her."

Stephen went back to the Sanctum, exhausted and drained, not wanting any more contact with the world outside. You, unsurprisingly, decided to go and stay at the Sanctum as well — wanting to see your lover's face for comfort. He'd always invite you to move in with him for easier access to him but you'd always reply, "c'mon, Stephen, where's the fun of getting married when I've already moved in with you while we're still dating?"

"Honey, I'm home!" You called out to Stephen which erupted a chuckle from the said man. "You always love to do that, don't you?" He made his way to you, arms partially spreading out which you took as an invitation to jump into. "That bad, huh?" He asked, burying his head and hands on your hair. "Oh, God, you wouldn't even wanna know." You groaned. "But, how about you? How was Christine's wedding? You gave her my greetings, didn't you?" You asked continuously. Stephen gave you a small smile in which a sigh followed. "It was okay. Just exhausting. You know, pictures and stuff." He said, shoulders slightly drooping.

"Oh, yes, I forgot. I was dating the most famous sorcerer in the world." You mockingly rolled your eyes with a chuckle. "Haha, funny. C'mon, honey, let's get you to bed." He retorted back before dragging you into his bedroom.

The next week after the wedding and the reunion turned out to be the best and worst week of your almost two-year long relationship. You had decided to stay the week at the Sanctum, mainly because 'you just wanted to' although your boyfriend didn't buy it, he still believed you. What he didn't know was you wanted to stay because your family's words was already getting to you. Multiple messages from your aunts contained them getting you multiple blind dates with other men even if you said you didn't want to, they still tried in case you'd ever change your mind.

You wanted to prove to yourself that this was just one of the few challenges you and Stephen would face. You wanted to prove to yourself that your love for him was stronger in spite of your deep fears that the world would divide you. Every morning, you'd make breakfast — even cook lunch and dinner enough for the both of you and Wong. Every night, you'd have deep late night talks about the most random things — turning the bedroom into a sacred oasis for the both of you. So, yes, you were a mess.

You were able to keep that mess at bay until that fateful Friday evening.

"Auntie, please stop. Please! I don't want any of them. I am more than satisfied with Stephen, I don't need anyone else." Stephen heard you arguing with your aunt on the phone in the kitchen above his office upstairs. He went down to see you and immediately rushed down to your side when he saw you sobbing on the floor with your head buried in your arms and knees.

"Honey, you okay?" He asked gently. "No." You replied, voice muffled. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked again, more carefully than the last one. You finally lifted your head up, revealing your puffy red eyes and tear-streaked face. You let out a shaky sigh, before speaking. "It's just that, my aunt has been forcing me to go on these blind dates with men my age, thinking that you're not good enough for me." You said with a whimper in your tone.

"Well, what did you say?" He asked. "I told her, no. I don't need those. But she kept on insisting and, I don't know, I just burst out, I guess." You cried out. "Oh, I see. Do you need time off then?" Stephen asked out of the blue. Your eyes widened in disbelief and horror, still not processing completely what he said. "W-what? Stephen, what are you saying?" You asked him tearfully. "Y/N, I think you need some time to think about it. Now, I'm giving you the time you need." He said it like it was nothing. Now, the tears had started rolling down again.

"Stephen Strange, how dare you?! I fought for you, now this is the treatment I get?!" You stood up and so did he, shouting at him at the incredulity of the man that stood before you. "Y/N, I'm just saying that maybe you need to think about what your aunt said." He attempted to clarify himself but it was to no good. You had been looking at him a look of hurt and terror in your face, unable to comprehend the words that had just come out of his mouth.

"God, you're such an asshole, Strange! If you want that, then so be it!" He flinched at the use of his last name, you never called him that. You stormed out of the Sanctum and went back to your apartment.

Which is where you are now. At 3AM on a Sunday, facing your phone at the nightstand — wishing it would light up with a text from your lover. Thinking it would be useless to wait for a man with a pride higher than the Burj Khalifa to show up, you faced the other side — hoping to at least get a reasonable amount of sleep.

Just as you were finally about to get a blink of sleep, the doorbell to your apartment unit rang. Muttering a string of curses to the person who rang your doorbell at the wee hours of the night, you got up from your bed and walked over to the buzzer.

"Who is this?" You asked groggily. "Y/N, it's me. Could you buzz me in, please?" A voice you knew all too well replied from the other side. That same baritone voice you grew to love so much that also turned into one that you so deeply despised. Upon hearing his voice, it seemed like all forms of sleepiness was knocked out of your body. You took a deep sigh and closed your eyes, thinking you were dreaming and this would all go away if you opened them again.

"Y/N, are you there?" The voice spoke up again, startling you, causing you to open your eyes and groan loudly because it, in fact, wasn't a dream. "Stephen, what are you doing here? I thought you said you wanted to give me time." You said exasperatedly, just wanting to go back to the comfort of your bed. "Y/N, please, just give me 5 minutes of your time. After that, I'll be gone." Stephen begged one more time and even through the speaker, you could see the look of desperation on his face. Feeling pity for the man on your porch, you decide to buzz him in and sat down on the sofa of your apartment's living room — waiting for the sorcerer to knock on your door.

Not long after, you heard a knock on your door just as you expected. What you didn't expect though, is to see him appear ragged, eyes surrounded by dark circles most likely due to lack of sleep, and even puffy red eyes. His look is almost identical to yours, only difference is you looking more haggard than he is. You stepped aside, signaling him to head inside your apartment. He sat down on your sofa as you shut the door behind you.

"Want anything? Coffee, tea, perhaps maybe beer?" You asked your guest. "No need, Y/N. I'll be gone after a while anyway." He, to your surprise, politely dismissed your offer. "Alright. What's your business here, Stephen?" You asked him straight to the point, sitting across him in one of your beanbags.

"Okay. Firstly, I want to apologize." He started off, pausing for a while to let you speak if you ever have anything to say but is met with your unwavering gaze and crossed arms to your chest. "Y/N, I am so, so, so sorry to have said those things to you. I know it's a very asshole thing for me to say, especially right after you risked your relationship with your relative just for me. I really am truly sorry." He continued.

"Believe it or not, I've been experiencing the same, too. At Christine's wedding, the other doctors there were also telling me to find someone my age and that you were too young for me. It definitely took a toll on me and I took it out on you which was wrong and I shouldn't have done so. This past week without you has been the absolute hell and I know now that you're worth more than what others think and I've lost you to those. So, I understand if you choose not to accept this apology. I'll just be on my way." He finished off, standing up and preparing to leave.

"Stephen, wait." You spoke, stopping him on his tracks. "I'm sorry, too. I should've been there with you and we should've faced this together as one and not divided. This isn't a 'you' nor a 'me' problem, but an 'us' problem. We should've dealt with it that way. So, yes, I accept your apology and I hope that you accept mine, too." You said, standing up to face your lover by the door.

You made your way to him, cupping his face in your hands and pressed your forehead to his before whispering a small "I'm sorry, love." He gave you a small kiss on the lips as he said, "It's alright, honey. I forgive you. Let's go home, yeah?"

He pulled you out of your apartment, holding each others' hands with smiles plastered on your faces.

#dr strange #doctor strange #doctor stephen strange #stephen strange #dr strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #dr strange imagine #stephen strange imagine #dr strange angst #stephen strange angst #dr strange fluff #stephen strange fluff

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