#man I was hoping to not have to deal with this
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delicate
pairing: modern!Oberyn Martell x f!reader
word count: ~3.9k
summary: You meet a mysterious man at a club. He's just as attracted to you as you are to him.
warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, very soft dom!Oberyn, protected p in v (who am I), dirty talk, fingering, anal play (m receiving), a hint of angst, romance because I can't help myself
a/n: written for @dancingtotuyo’s on repeat drabble challenge, based on the song delicate by taylor swift. this is honestly just feral, i have nothing to say for myself.
dividers as always by @saradika-graphics <3
find my full masterlist here and follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates!
Lights are flashing, colors dancing over the exposed skin of your arms and shoulders; the bass is pumping, making your whole body feel like it’s vibrating from within. You’re clinging to your friend, your arms intertwined as you navigate your way through the crowd of people to the bar.
You first see him as you’re gulping down your drink, welcoming the cool liquid in your parched throat. Your eyes are observing the crowd, flying over him and then flickering back to take a second glance.
He’s gorgeous, his dark hair a mess, a beard framing his face, his skin shining under the lights. He’s wearing a shirt that flows around his body, threads of gold weaving through the fabric and reflecting the dancing lights. It’s almost entirely undone, giving you a generous look at the expanse of his toned chest, at the sun-kissed skin that you feel a sudden urge to run your fingers over. A massive gold chain with a lock hangs around his neck, an accessory that you’re convinced would look absolutely ridiculous on anyone else. But on him, it somehow only accentuates the strong cords of muscle that ripple under his skin in a way that makes you want to lick your lips.
He moves with a confident ease, his body in tune with the stomping beats, his whole being exuding an almost cocky self-assuredness. You keep drinking him in, fascinated in a way that you can barely understand. You realize that you’ve been staring when your friend follows your line of sight and you hear her quiet gasp beside you.
“Haven’t seen that one around before,” her voice floats into your ear over the music and you shake your head in silent agreement. You’d definitely remember if you did.
You both watch him move with the body of a woman next to him, watch him bend down to whisper something into her ear, watch the way his lips curl into a smug grin as she grinds against him in reaction to his words.
“Too late, I guess,” you laugh, downing the rest of your drink and tearing your eyes away.
The two of you head back into the crowd, swaying your bodies to the beat. You try to get lost in the feeling of it, but your eyes keep searching for him, hungrily grasping at the glimpses of him that you can spot. Eventually, you watch the retreating backs of both of him and the woman head toward the exit, their bodies closely intertwined. Like you said, you try to shrug it off, too late. It’s not a big deal, there’s more than enough other guys around you.
But you don’t go home with any of those guys, none of them able to catch your interest the way he did, and when you lie in bed in the early morning hours, your head pleasantly buzzing with the remaining alcohol in your bloodstream, you still see him behind your eyelids.
A few weeks go by and while you hope to catch him every time that you’re out, there’s no trace of him. It isn’t until your friend’s birthday celebration, a tradition that the two of you have kept up for years, that you see him again.
Again, you’re leaning against the bar, your eyes aimlessly drifting over the dancefloor while you’re sipping on your drink, when you spot him. He’s wearing another colorful shirt, his chest almost entirely on display, and he’s shamelessly grinding against another young man as they’re both moving to the beat. You can’t tear your eyes away, apparently staring so intently that he catches you and throws you a wink across the room.
You feel heat rising in your cheeks and almost turn away, but he’s already on his way, moving towards you with a cat-like grace, effortlessly weaving through the crowd of moving bodies.
“Hey,” he says, leaning into you so close that his breath fans hot against your ear, causing goosebumps to rise on your neck. “Saw something you like?”
You grin at him over the rim of your cup, biting your lip and nodding. He mirrors your grin, an almost predatory glint in his eyes. He’s even more gorgeous up close, a light sheen of sweat on his face and his eyes a smoldering brown, his dark hair a mess with strands sticking to his forehead. You take in his toned chest, his broad shoulders and you desperately want to touch your hands to his golden skin. A foreign accent is lacing his words in the most delicious way, only adding to the pull that you feel towards him.
“Let me buy you another drink,” he purrs and you accept, thanking him and offering him your name. You relish in the way you have to lean into him so that he can hear you, greedily soaking in his scent and his body heat that make your mouth water.
His name is Oberyn, you learn, a name that sounds foreign on your tongue and you could swear that a quiet growl rises up his throat when you repeat it back to him.
You’d love to spend your evening dancing with him, pressing your body against his, find out if moving with him feels as good as it looks from the outside. But it’s your friend’s birthday, and you’re gonna stick together, dance the night away with each other and no one else, the way you do every year.
He shrugs it off when you tell him as much, an unbothered grin on his face as he promises you another time then. His hand wraps around your wrist, the warmth of it sinking into your skin as he pulls your arm out towards him, a black marker suddenly in his other hand.
“What are you–” you begin to ask, but your voice dies at the sight of him pulling the cap off with his teeth, something that really shouldn’t affect you this much.
He bends over your arm and it takes your hazy mind a moment to register that he’s writing numbers onto your skin. You’re getting lost in the feeling of his hand on you, even in such an innocent place, and your thoughts are already jumping to fantasies of how it would feel trailing up your arm and over your body.
“There,” his voice floats into your ear and you almost jump. The smug look on his face leaves no doubt that he knows exactly what kind of effect he has on you. He leans in close again, so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. Your mouth feels dry.
You look down at your arm, now adorned with digits in black ink. A phone number.
“Give me a call,” he smirks, and leans in even closer, until his lips move against the shell of your ear and a shudder runs down your back at the sensation. “Just think of the fun things we could do.” He throws you another wink and slides away from you, back into the crowd.
You text him the next day, worried if it’s too soon, if it makes you seem desperate. Then again, you have to admit to yourself, you are desperate. Desperate to hear his voice again, desperate to feel his hands on you again. Texting him is less awkward than you had hoped, his demeanor putting you at ease almost immediately. You catch yourself smiling at the screen, already down bad for this man.
You’re in bed, struggling to calm down enough to sleep when your phone’s screen lights up the darkness of your bedroom from where it’s lying on your nightstand.
He’s asking you to meet him in a dive bar, right now, if you want to. You’re reluctant at first, once again worried to appear too eager, but the almost magnetic pull that you feel towards him eventually leads you out of your apartment and to the address he sent you.
He’s waiting for you in the back, just like he told you. Wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt, the fabric stretching around his broad chest in a way that makes it hard not to stare, dressed much more casually than you’ve come to know from him. It doesn’t take away from his persona one bit, he’s still exuding that energy that seems to let him command every room he’s in, that makes it so hard for you to resist him.
He buys you a drink and pulls you into a corner booth with him. Talking to him is easy, he’s an attentive listener and his quick remarks make you laugh, leaning into him when you do. You learn that he’s not from around here, that he flew in to visit friends but that he’s thinking about moving here permanently. It almost scares you, how giddy that prospect makes you, the idea of having the chance to keep seeing him. His arm finds its way around your shoulders eventually, his fingers drawing shapes over your skin. The innocent contact makes you feel like a teenager, suddenly sixteen again.
He walks you home later, his arm still wrapped around you, pulling you into his side. It feels good, a sense of safety and intimacy that you feel yourself getting lost in. You had thought that he was hot, that he would be a fun hookup, but as the minutes tick on, you realize how much you already like him. How much you want this feeling to last.
It feels so natural, turning around to face him when you reach your building, both of you leaning in simultaneously until your lips meet, like it’s the only possible way for this evening to end. You think that it is.
Kissing him feels even better than you had envisioned in your mind, and you melt against him, one hand braced against his chest while the other comes up to pull at the hair in the nape of his neck, needing him closer, not ready to let him go. He’s cupping your face in both hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks, and you feel him smile against your lips. You lick into his mouth, revel in the groan that rumbles deep in his chest.
You don’t let go of him, holding onto his hand when you pull him up the stairs, soak in the feeling of him pressed against your body when you unlock your apartment door, let him connect his lips with yours again when he walks you backwards down your hallway.
Everything about him feels so right, so safe and yet like the most exciting experience you’ve ever had. You breathe him in, ecstatic with the sensation of his broad form against you, with the way you feel his muscles move under your fingers where you’re grabbing at his shoulders.
He lets you lead him into your bedroom, his hands still all over you. You push him down to sit on the edge of your bed and he follows your lead, sinking down on the mattress with an easy grin on his face, regarding you with hooded eyes. He wraps his hands around your waist as you’re standing in front of him and he pulls you closer. His fingers find their way below the hem of your skirt, dancing over the supple skin of your thighs, slowly inching up higher.
You whine, already squirming under his touch, and his grin widens.
“So soft,” he coos up at you, tightening his grip on your thighs and moving you to straddle him, your legs already spread wide to accommodate the thickness of his thighs beneath you. One hand comes up to cradle your face again, his thumb nudging at your lips and you flick your tongue against the digit, making him chuckle.
“And so pretty,” he continues, leaning in to connect your lips once more. You want to melt into him, let him consume every fiber of your being.
Your hands tug at his t-shirt, pulling it up, desperate to satisfy the need to be closer to him, to feel his bare skin against yours. He helps you, lifting the fabric over his head. You’ve seen most of his chest before, but not like this, not revealed just for you, in the dim light of your bedroom, yours to look at, yours to touch. He somehow seems even broader without clothes on and you’re almost transfixed by the thick cords of muscle of his arms and shoulders that are on display for you now.
He chuckles again, placing another kiss at the corner of your lips.
“You alright, princess?”
“Yeah,” you murmur, feeling breathless, overwhelmed with how much you want him.
His hands splay over your thighs, fingertips dipping beneath your skirt again, slowly, teasingly skating higher.
“Take this off for me.” It’s phrased like an order, but it’s still so soft, not leaving a doubt in your mind that you could say no if you wanted to. But you don’t. You want him to see you, want to feel his eyes on you, want to have this hungry look that’s trained on your face burning all over your body.
He groans when you obey, a deep, rumbling sound that goes straight to your core and you know that he feels your thighs clenching on top of his. His mouth is on your bare skin within seconds, kissing and sucking, his tongue moving against you like he’s going to devour you.
You arch against him with a whine when he circles your nipple, first with his fingers and then with his tongue before sucking the sensitive bud between his lips. It’s all encompassing, the wetness of his mouth, the strong grip of his hands, the heat of his chest seeping into your skin where you’re pressing yourself against him.
“Please, Oberyn,” you whimper, not even sure what you’re asking for, just knowing that you need more. His responding moan sends vibrations from his mouth straight through you, before his fingers dig into your waist and he flips you over, until your back is resting on your sheets and he’s hovering over you, your thighs still spread wide around him.
The image alone is enough to send another wave of arousal through you, the way he looks just as wrecked as you feel. His large hands spread your thighs wider as he leans back, his eyes trained on your panties, where you know the fabric must be soaked already.
“So pretty,” he mumbles again, more to himself than to you. His eyes fly back up to meet yours, almost black, his pupils blown wide. “Can I take these off?” He dips a finger under the lace covering your hip, pulling it away and letting it snap against your skin.
“Please.” You don’t care how desperate you sound, not when he looks up at you with the most sinful smirk on his face. His hands grasp the fabric and you lift your hips to help him pull it down, but his smirk widens as he tears the lace in half, ripping the shreds off of your body.
“Fuck,” you whine, not a single thought wasted on the fact that those were some of your favorite panties, every part of you focused on how badly you want his hands all over you.
His eyes stay focused on your expression, eagerly drinking in your every reaction as his fingers dip between your legs, so close to where you so desperately need him. He groans when he feels the wetness seeping from your folds, swirling his digits through it before reaching your clit. He’s ghosting over the sensitive nub with barely any pressure, but it’s enough to elicit a moan from you, your hips canting up to follow his touch. You’re distantly aware of the pleas that are falling from your lips, giving way to a loud whine when he finally sinks two thick fingers into your heat.
He thrusts into you, curling them just right, and his name tumbles out of your mouth again, laced with pure need. You watch in fascination when he sucks his slick-coated fingers into his mouth, eyes still trained on your face, a rumble forming in his chest at the taste.
“Tastes so sweet, princess.”
Your thighs fall open wider, shamelessly offering yourself to him, to his eyes, his hands. You reach out, grabbing at his waist, the need to feel all of him nearly overwhelming. His fingers intertwine with yours, pulling your hands away from his body. He lifts them up to his mouth and presses soft kisses against your knuckles, a whisper of patience on his lips before he lets go of you and rises up to rid himself of his jeans.
Your eyes widen at the sight of him, a needy sigh escaping you when you think about feeling him inside you, about the way he’s gonna stretch your walls. You sit up, eagerly reaching for him again. Your fingers wrap around his cock, mesmerized by his girth, and he hisses when you move your hand over his length.
You hear the crinkle of plastic and then his hand is on yours, gently tugging it away, much too soon for your liking. You watch as he puts the condom on with practiced ease, the sight of his own hands on his cock enough to send another wave of arousal through you.
He’s back on you before you know it, sliding in between your spread legs, his large hands splayed over your upper thighs, pushing them further apart. His eyes are trained on your weeping pussy, a hungry darkness in them. You whine when he rubs his cock through your wetness before tapping against your clit.
“You want this?” he asks, his voice husky.
“Please, Oberyn.” Your desperate plea breaks off into a filthy moan when he sheathes himself inside of you, breaching your tight walls with the most delicious sting, and you feel your eyes rolling back into your head.
Pleasure grows inside of you as he starts to move, slamming into your pussy in a forceful rhythm. You feel so full of him, the sensation almost overwhelming as he hits the perfect spot over and over. The wave inside of you crests so suddenly that you barely realize what’s happening, the need that you’ve felt brewing all evening finally reaching its peak.
You gasp his name, nails pressing into his shoulders as he fucks you through it, until you’re a trembling mess beneath him. He slows, moving in and out of you with shallow thrusts, his lips on yours once more.
You stay like that for a moment, arms wrapped around him, holding him close while you bask in the bliss that you’ve just experienced. But his continuous movements have the hunger for more growing inside of you once more. You meet his thrusts with your hips, needy to feel him deeper again. He props himself up, and it’s sinful how good he looks, his face glowing, a sheen of sweat on his skin.
You suck one of your fingers into your mouth, eyes wide and holding his gaze, feigning innocence. He watches you, a curious glint in his eyes, as you trail your hands from his shoulders down his back until you reach his ass and pull him further into you, fingernails digging into his flesh.
You let your saliva-covered finger reach further, gently massaging the puckered ring of muscle and he gasps, thrusting into you with so much force that it jostles your whole body and you cry out, the sensation of him so deep inside you a heady mix of pleasure and pain.
“Fuck,” he grits between his teeth as you keep up your ministrations, delighted to have this effect on him. “Fuck, princess, just like that…”
You bite your lip, grinning up at him. “Do the girls back home touch you like I do?”
He breathes out a laugh and shakes his head, his movements never faltering as he gathers your wrists in his hands and pins them down on the mattress beside your head.
“No. And you’re gonna make me come if you keep this up, but I’m not finished with you yet,” he purrs, leaning down and sucking bruising kisses into the soft skin of your throat, the scratch of his beard only adding to the sensation. You free one of your hands from his grip to tug at his hair, your fingers burrowing in the soft strands at his neck and scratching against his scalp.
“You can give me one more, can’t you?” His voice in your ear makes you shiver and you nod, a breathless please on your lips.
“Good girl.” His kiss is soft against your cheek before he pulls away, his thrusts speeding up, as he grabs your hips, holding them up, giving you no choice but to take him. “Touch yourself,” he demands, the tendons in his neck straining with exertion.
Your fingers are on your clit within moments, rubbing against it, slick with your arousal. The coil inside you tightens again, desperate for release once more.
“Give it to me princess, come on.” His voice sounds wrecked, and it’s the thing that makes you leap over the edge a second time, stars exploding behind your eyelids as you pulse around him, pure pleasure soaring through you.
He comes to a stuttering halt, hips pressed flush against yours, and his groans are almost enough to make you want to come again. He falls forward, forehead pressed against yours, and you share a lazy smile.
You think that he really is the most beautiful person that you’ve ever met.
You fell asleep curled against him, your head resting on his chest and soaking up his warmth, with his arm around your shoulder, but when you blink awake to soft morning light falling through your curtains, you are alone. You roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. You’ve seen him at the club, he’s probably in a different bed almost every night, you shouldn’t be surprised that he snuck out of yours in the morning. And you sure as hell shouldn’t be disappointed.
You get up with a sigh, pulling a t-shirt over your head and padding down the hall to the kitchen. You come to an abrupt halt in the doorway, met with a sight that you hadn’t expected. He’s standing in front of your open fridge, the expanse of his back bare and turned towards you. There’s a swoop of excitement in your stomach.
You exhale loudly and he turns towards you, an easy smile on his lips. “Good morning.” His voice sounds raspier, still thick with sleep.
“Hey,” you say, returning his smile. He closes the distance between you and cups your face, the sensation of his thumb against your cheek already a familiar one. His lips find yours and you get lost in the feeling of it, in the fantasy of this being your every morning, in pretending that he’s yours.
When he pulls away, the words are out of your mouth before your mind is able to catch up.
“I think I really like you.”
You want to bite your tongue immediately, to take them back. Too early, the voice in your head screams. Your eyes widen as you search for something else to say, but he doesn’t waver, still regarding you with that relaxed smile on his handsome face.
“Is– is it okay that I said that?”
He hums, his large hand still on your cheek.
“I think I really like you too.”
as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider putting a smile on my face by reblogging, commenting or sending in an ask <3 thank you for reading!
#oberyn martell#oberyn martell x reader#pedro pascal#game of thrones#oberyn martell fanfiction#game of thrones fanfiction#oberyn martell smut#oberyn martell x you#oberyn martell x female reader#oberyn martell x f!reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedrostories#janas fics#fic: delicate
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Caring For You {Matt Sturniolo}
Summary: fem!reader takes care of bf!Matt when his ankle is still hurting after going to the doctor 🥺
Warnings: FLUFFFFF
A/N: this was supposed to be a quick blurb before work but it turned out longer than i expected hehe
The garage door in the triplets house finally opened, signaling that the boys had made it back home from their trip to urgent care. Matt had been having some ankle pain that you had been begging him to get checked out. Even Nick and Chris were getting worried when the pains still persisted after a couple of months.
The boys laughter filled the once silent house and you were quick to get off the couch and make your way to the staircase. Nick was the first one up, greeting you and heading to the kitchen. Chris followed him closely behind and Matt stayed at the bottom of the stairs for a few extra moments.
"Well? What did they say was wrong with it?" You asked nervously, hoping it wasn't too serious since you didn't see any sort of cast. Matt slowly ascended the stairs towards you, limping lightly because of the pain. When he reached the top he pulled you into a comforting hug, rubbing his hand up and down your back. He knew that you had been really worried about him and just wanted to make sure he was okay.
"She said it was probably tendinitis and that I should just take some advil." Matt said softly, placing a kiss on your forehead and pulling back from the hug. You looked up at him with big doe eyes, concern still written on your face, "What? That's all? They didn't do an x-ray or anything?" Matt shrugged his shoulders, shifting his weight off his hurt ankle and repositioning his hands inside his jean pockets.
"They didn't think it was necessary."
"How about you go sit on the couch so you're not putting weight on it, give it a break while you're home." You suggested, placing a caring hand on Matt's tattooed bicep. He quickly obliged, making his way over to the plush, white sofa, sinking into the pillows. You grabbed a pillow from the opposite end of the couch and brought it over to Matt.
"Baby, what are you doing sweetheart?" He asks as you carefully lift his leg to rest on the L of the couch, placing the pillow beneath his hurt ankle.
"You should probably elevate it at least." You responded before quickly heading towards the kitchen, giving Matt no time to stop you. Matt watched you from over the back of the couch, his tongue wetting his bottom lip unsure of your actions. You rummaged through all the kitchen drawers, desperately trying to find what you needed. Eventually, you scavenged a ziploc bag, a hand towel, and a bottle of advil.
You filled the ziploc bag with ice from the freezer, wrapping it in the hand towel to keep the direct cold from touching your bare skin. Holding all the ingredients, you made your way back over to the couch.
"Here babe, let me take care of you." You pled, carefully placing the ice onto his elevated ankle and handing him the bottle of advil, urging him to take a couple.
He smiled sweetly at you, grateful that he could count on you to take care of him even when he didn't think his health issues were that big of a deal.
"Do you need anything else?" You asked, standing at the edge of the couch, ready to do anything else for the man you loved.
Matt patted the spot next to him, urging you to take a seat. As you got closer to Matt, he held out his hand taking hold of your own and pulling you onto the sofa. When you fully sat down next to him his arm came over your shoulders, allowing you to nuzzle into his chest. He looked down at you as you snuggled into his side, using his free hand to gently push your chin up to look at him.
Matt leaned down, connecting his lips with yours in a meaningful kiss, "I love you, thanks for taking care of me."
#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo fanfic
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The Ex and Why's
Summary: No one knows much about Simon’s life aside from what was listed on his files. The family that had died a tragic death, the trauma that came with his actions, and the rank that made him what he was today. No one had realized that behind the balaclava wearing man from Manchester was a man that once had a heart and signed divorced papers he had constantly regretted signing all those years ago..
Character: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Ex Wife!Reader. John Price. Kate Laswell. Johnny "Soap" MacTavish. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Word Count: 9,787
Chapter Warnings: Angst with Happy Ending. Miscommunication. Mention of Minor Character Deaths. Mention of Divorce. Life threatening Injuries. Mention of Simon's tragic past and trauma. Not edited (sorry!)
AN: I can now sleep in peace. If you enjoyed it why not visit my mini celebration and post your own requests I can write just like this.
Masterlist || Request are Open || 500 Followers Celebration
When you had learned about this new job, one thing you had so gotten used to doing was letting Simon know about it. But not this time, something about letting him back into your life wasn’t something you should do anymore. You were no longer married to him by your own choice and no one else’s. So you know it was time to wear your big girl pants now and stopped letting him know about it.
You no longer had any reason to give your ex-husband any updates about your life. A more selfish reason was how you just wanted to start a new life, away from him and away from anything that was related to him.
“Ms. Riley?”
You turned smiling at the man that would now be your new boss. You learned his name to be John Price, a Captain.
Being married to a man like Simon Riley once upon a time, you know some thing or two about what goes on inside of a military base. Even when he hasn’t talked much about it with you during your relationship or if he even gone as far as mention your existence to the people he had once worked with. You chalked it up to overprotectiveness and fear that they would get to you, and some night thing that he was simply embarrassed about you. Maybe it’s another reason why you had opted out of telling him about this new job of yours.
“Captain Price, it’s good to finally meet you.” You firmly shook the man’s hand. A good first impression was the best thing for you to do if it meant making sure you work for the man for the foreseeable future.
“Likewise, Laswell as spoke great things about you and I’m hoping to be able to experience it firsthand.”
You nodded with a smile. Working for Kate’s wife for nearly a few years beforehand, you had appreciated the suggestion for this new role as a secretary for the Captain ever since your divorce. She had understood you needed this change in pace in your life and this was much of a welcome change.
“I do hope it’s all good things.” You quipped right back earning a deep resonating chuckle from the older man.
“Well I think now that introductions as over and done with, let me show you to my office. I do hope you’re up for dealing with a handful of documents for me on your first day.”
“More than happy to.” You beamed following the man, his larger hand holding onto the small of your back as you began your journey into the heart of the base.
All throughout the walk, he was giving your directions to where most things were. You were warned how some men could be rowdy at time and he was more than happy to help in the off chance that any of his men would give you problems.
All you could do was smile, not wanting him to know that you were more than well equipped to punch or kick anyone that would get too handsy with you. One of the perks of having an ex-husband working for the military.
He continued on with how things go around in the base. Schedules for meal time and the curfew in the event that you would be staying in the base overnight. He had also showed you to where your new room would be located in.
“You would be a few rooms away from my own as well as the Lieutenant and Sergeants that I trust most. In the event that I’m unavailable, they will be more than willing to lend you a hand if you need it.”
You nodded before you finally arrived in his office. Opening the door for you, you were greeted with a spacious office. Even in the chaos of the military base, the man’s office was pristine, a few knick knacks and photos that littered his walls, as well as a bookshelf that housed an array of military strategies books. But the most alarming thing about his office was the other table that housed stack upon stacks of folders, papers practically spilling out from each and every single one of them.
“I may or may not have underestimated the help I truly need in this situation.” The Captain said sheepishly as you began opening the folders and gasped that most of them weren’t even ordered correctly even with the page numbers printed on them.
“I think I can manage this.” You blinked hoping you didn’t bite more than you could chew in this moment.
For the next few hours, your time was spent removing staplers upon staplers from the papers for each and every single one of the folders while you were inquiring to John the calls you would be fielding for him from now on and how he would want you to deal with it.
You had learned so much about the man in the few hours being in the same room as him. He was a man that wanted to ensure the safety of the world, even if it meant bloodying his hands up a little just to make sure of it. It showed with some of the missions reports that you may or may not have accidentally read too much into. You’ve also learned how much he hated talking to upper ranking officials if not needed, he was a man that hated authority yet he was working in the field that he was in right now from the way his comments about letting calls from upper ranks go to voice mail if possible.
“Will there be anything or anyone that I should be worried about for now?” You inquired making sure that you did not stir anyone in the wrong way if possible.
“I’m sure Laswell has told you enough to understand our work. Some men are more scarred than sane and if possible, I want you to make sure that you do not give anyone the wrong impression if possible.”
You know what he was implying and with your own experience you know far too well that getting yourself involved with another man in uniform would lead into.
“I’ve done my fair share, Captain. I don’t think that would be much of a problem with me.” You reassured him.
“Laswell told me you were divorced.” He began, huh, who would have thought the man would be the gossiping type.
“It’s been a few years,” You shrugged attention solely on rearranging the files at hand. “It took months before my ex-husband signed the papers, I wanted to think it was because he was deployed but I knew otherwise.” You muttered.
When you had made the decision to finally break things off with Simon, it was like pulling teeth with the man and his near avoidance about the discussion or where you would be sending the divorce papers. You had enough of it, leaving the home you once shared instead with everything you owned and left nothing more of you than the divorce papers alongside the wedding ring and engagement ring he had given you all those years ago.
“He was military too?”
“Something like that.” You nodded not wanting to think too much about the man. Even after everything, you still worried about you giving the man too much information in the event that he works for the opposing side if the chance may have it.
“Well his lost is my gain.” He snorts turning his attention back to the freshly arranged folders courtesy of you that were now ready for his signature. “No offense.”
“None taken, Captain.”
Eventually the man had excused himself for a meeting and had instructed you that no one would be allowed inside aside from him. He had also reminded you about lunch which you could head on out first or you could join him once his meeting was done. You’ve decided it would be best to join him for lunch for now, just to get a feeling of anyone that you would get into contact with on your first day.
With a quick goodbye, you were left on your own and you all but groaned at the folders still stacked up and yet to be touched. It truly made you wonder how the man could be so good in his job yet be so horrible with his paperwork. You will never understand.
Your eyes fixated for a moment on one of the pictures on the wall. It was your boss with three individuals. A blue eyed man with a horrible cut Mohawk but the biggest beaming smile on his face, his arm wrapped around a much younger man with darker skin but a bright eyes that twinkled with happiness for whatever was going on when the photo was taken. But amongst the camaraderie and enjoyment was a man in a skull balaclava mask that had such an empty but somehow familiar eyes, the man stuck out like a sore thumb even with the Captain’s hand resting on the taller man’s shoulder and beaming smile and a cigar between his lips. It was an odd mix of people but it was like family—it made you miss Simon for a moment before your attention got right back to the paperworks.
You can’t think of him now. Not anymore.
After the events of Las Almas, Simon Riley had truly fought the urge to call you, to tell you how much you mean the world to him and how he was now more than willing to give you the compromise you had always longed from him. But a part of him, the bigger and much darker part of him had refused, slamming his own phone onto the wall in the sheer anger of everything that had occurred in the moment. You had made your choice because of his own action and he would be cruel to take that away from you.
“Heard Cap had a new Secretary, old man’s gonna finally keep his paperworks in check now.” Soap had ruining Simon’s sulking in the cafeteria.
It’s been a grueling few days. With new recruits he was forced to deal with in the morning and nightmares that you no longer could vanish for him at night. His life was nothing more than misery personified and he has no one else to blame but himself.
“Can’t say I’m surprise. Laswell probably set it up for him.” Simon muttered being more than within earshot when he heard both Laswell and Price arguing about the man’s need for necessary help with files. It was Laswell’s decision above anything else, it’s just a matter of time if the secretary would actually last with how everything goes around here in the base.
“Still, hope we’ll have a new bonnie around. Getting sick and tired of seeing Bampots all around.”
Simon didn’t even had the energy to question the man’s slangs, his attention solely back on his cup of tea and lunch—how horrible it was compared to your cup and cooking, but he never truly appreciated it until it was gone. His tea was too bitter even with the sugar and cream he added and the food that didn’t have the special kick compared to your own cooking. Even years after the divorce he was still so miserable without you in his life.
“Steamin Jesus.”
Simon could practically hear Soap melt from where he sat in front of him, his eyes directed at whoever was behind Simon. His curiosity got the better of him and his head turned and he was welcomed with the last person he would have ever believed to be walking besides one John Price.
“Yer lookin’ a bit peely wally.” Soap pointed out breaking Simon from his trance.
“English, MacTavish.”
“You look a lil’ pale, Lt. Like you’ve seen a fucking ghost.”
Simon could have at this point. As you walked besides Price towards the table he sat in. He noticed how unaware you were even at the sight of him only for him to realize that you had never seen him with his mask on, or in anything that has to do with his line of work—until now.
“Right, I think it’s time to introduce this lovely lass.” Price cleared his throat but he should have known by now that both Simon and Soap’s attention were already on them both. “This is Y/N Riley, my new secretary.”
Simon’s brows rose at that little tidbit. You still had his last name. He understood to a degree why you did so—your family that you had long cut off from your life after what they had done to you, but after everything that had happened between the two of you he wouldn’t have expect you to choose the lesser of two evils—being his last name.
“Riley? She a sister or wife to you, Lt?” Soap’s quick remark earned him a glare from Simon before his attention was back to you, how your brows furrowed before your eyes finally widen in realization.
“Purely coincidence.” Simon muttered.
“This is Sgt. Johnny “Soap” MacTavish and Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley.” Price introduced almost realizing at this point the similarity of the last name you both shared in this moment.
“Nice to meet you two.” You smiled, quickly to compose yourself and shaking both men’s hand.
Even with the glove Simon wore, he could still feel the all too familiar electric shock of your touch against his own. He looked at you how easy your eyes dilated at his touch. It scared him still how you had so much of an effect on him even after the years apart from each other.
As you and Price excused yourselves to get lunch, it left Simon wondering if this was the world finally punishing him for everything he has done in his cruel life. Give him the very thing he had wanted the most only to pull it away at every instance.
“Bloody fucking hell.”
It’s been two weeks since you’ve began your new job as Captain John Price’s secretary. Two weeks since you had tried and succeeded in making sure you had avoided the man known in the base as Ghost—or to you, simply known as Simon Riley, your ex-husband. Every single instance that you were both placed in the same room (mostly in Price’s office), you both acted like you didn’t know each other, it was hard knowing just how close the man was after so long of a separation from each other.
But as much of an avoidance you’ve made for the Lieutenant, the same could not be said for the two Sergeants that had been dead set in making themselves both your companion while in the base but as well as your guard dogs from the ballsy few that would dare ask you out on a date. You appreciated the effort as much as it was not needed knowing it earned a dangerous glare from your ex in the process.
“Looks like you’re right at home.”
You jerked your head up from the files you were arranging at the voice of an all too familiar woman. A smile rested on your face at the sight of one Kate Laswell, your former boss’ wife.
“Kate.” You smiled an exhausted sigh escaping your lips at the sight of the woman. Both her and her wife had been the pair that knew what you had been through since your divorce and she was one of the two people that saw behind the façade you had decided to show the world.
“How are you holding up?” She inquired.
“Doing better.” You assured her. “Just a slight problem but nothing I can’t deal with now.”
“Oh no. Is your ex-husband bothering you again? I told you to just say the name and I’ll find some dirt on him in a heartbeat.”
You chuckled, knowing how that would be close to impossible with the man’s stand and rank in the Taskforce.
“Simon Riley.” You said instead and watched the way her eyes widen upon realization.
“Why did I not put two and two together?” She snorted realizing the small misjudgment on her part. “Does John know?”
You shook your head. You didn’t know how, but in the weeks of working at the base, you had been successful enough not to let the small detail spill. It was for both of your sakes and you feared that if you told the man, you would be fired and not him, not that you would want him to choose between the two of you.
“It would be a shame if John couldn’t keep you working for him because of your past with Ghost. I’m actually able to see his files being sent to me on time for once and he’s less stress in this past week for once.”
You blushed, knowing that that was a compliment, something that was rarely spoken by one Kate Laswell in the years of working for her wife.
“I genuinely don’t want to go either.” You spoke honestly. “Even with the situation.”
“Will you keep the information to yourself for now?” She inquired. “What does Ghost think of this?”
“I haven’t talk to him since I’ve gotten here.” You spoke honestly. “And I think it would be better if don’t talk to him about it either.”
“Talk to who about?”
Both of you had jerked your head towards the owner of the voice and it was Price with your husband, Soap, and Gaz in tow. You looked panicked at Kate hoping she could help you out this predicament with the man in the very room with them.
“My wife’s been asking how she’s been holding up since the divorce and if she’s gotten around to talking to her ex.” Kate brushed off and you wanted to face palm yourself, not the answer you were hoping for her to give.
“Wait you were married?” Gaz piped in with surprise.
“Was.” You corrected, eyes glancing towards Simon for a moment before turning your attention right back to the younger man. “But it’s nothing to worry about, you know how Kate’s wife is.” You tried your best to reassure everyone.
“Well that bloke lost something good that’s for sure.” Soap quipped right back with a flirty wink. You’ve learned this was the default with the man. “Right Lt?”
Both you and Kate found yourself looking at the man and it somehow clicked to him that you both were now more than aware of the currently predicament that fell before you and without another word left the office, slamming the door behind him.
To this very day, Simon still can’t understand why he had signed those papers. Why didn’t he just talk with you and made a compromise. Instead he became an asshole that avoided any forms of communications with you until he was left with no other choice but divorce papers waiting for him at home and every single trace of you no longer in the home you two once shared.
In the deepest depths of his bedside drawer was the divorce papers that officially separated him from you, the two ring boxes that housed his wedding ring and the engagement ring he had bought for you. Around his neck, alongside his Dog tag was your wedding ring—the same wedding ring you had left on top of the coffee table of your home, with the divorce papers right under it.
It was his fears that finally came to life and he truly didn’t know why his body automatically signed without even reaching out to you first. To this day, in the years that has passed he still wonder what his life and relationship could be if he fought for your marriage.
Would he still be married to you right now? Would the two of you finally have the family you had always wanted? Maybe by now your first kid would have been three, he had always dreamed of having a daughter. A darling little girl that was a spitting image of you, a daughter he would protect with his life over and over again.
That could have been his life, but he was far too stupid for his own good. He was too much of a bastard that ruins everything good that comes into his life. He pays the price every single night he comes home to his apartment—empty and lacked the warmth that only you could ever give to someone like him.
He made his bed and he was sleeping in tears because of it.
“There he is, good you’ve got your arse here, LT.”
Another one of the mistakes he seems to be making in his life was joining the rest of the team in the pub and realizing that you have come to join them this time around.
Bloody fucking hell you were as beautiful as the first day he had ever laid eyes on you. There was the twinkle in your eyes he had once thought he had diminished as you continued on with whatever conversation you were having with Gaz with Price listening on. You had on your favorite red crepe dress that slightly showed some cleavage but not enough to be indecent, with your favorite locket that he had brought for you while you were still dating, and the first ever expensive Cartier watch you had brought for yourself (which Simon would have more than willingly bought for you if you allowed it) while saving up your checks.
Fate was nothing but a cruel sick man for giving this sight of you in front of him and never allowing him the taste he always craved. A gift that wasn’t his to accept—anymore.
“You know how traffic is, Johnny.” He muttered finding himself sitting beside the man and in the process finding himself sitting right in front of you in the process.
“Bullshit,” Soap snorted. “Stopped by a bonnie we didn’t know about?”
Simon glanced towards you, the momentary hurt that passed through your eyes before you continued on with your conversation with Gaz, now hearing you were both talking about your Uni days and how you found yourself involved with working for Laswell’s wife all those years ago.
“Don’t have the time nor the energy for another headache in my life.” He spoke realizing that it was the wrong thing to say with you in front of him. He could have said it if you were not here, but not in your presence, it diminishes every single thing he had ever had with you.
It wasn’t what he meant but he couldn’t truly take it back.
“I can second that.” You spoke finally meeting his eyes this time. An unrecognizable look in your eyes as you stared right at him. “And this is coming from someone that’s already made a mistake of ever getting married to a man in the military.”
This has opened the floodgate for everyone in the table to question you about your apparent divorce. He had no one else to blame for this than himself. He listened in now as you continued on answering questions about your relationship with him and the eventual divorce, but made sure it was vague enough not to have fingers pointed at him.
“So, you loved the man more than life itself and all that, why divorce?” Soap had asked the million dollar question.
“It’s gets tiresome to love someone that doesn’t want to help himself.” You spoke honestly. “Year of trying to understand him, only to push shoved away over and over again, it hurts and it gets tiresome. I just had to go before the love turns to hate.”
In the years since the divorce, there was never closure between the two of you. The forms of communications that you both had were mostly about him being deployed again or of you and your plans of moving around or changing careers. Never did either of you had the much needed closure that you both deserved—until now, not directed at him.
“If any of you ever attempt getting involved with a guy or girl make sure you’re serious about the relationship a hundred percent, not fifty, not seventy-five, not even fucking ninety. Because that small fraction you’re not giving them might be the very reason why everything falls apart.”
Simon finds himself blinking at the words that now escaped your lips. The downright resentment that still lingered in your tongue even after everything that had occurred between the two of you. He shouldn’t have signed those fucking divorce papers.
Marriage Counseling, they should have had marriage counselling like you had begged from him all those years ago.
He stood, excusing himself to order the next round of drinks. He doesn’t have it in him anymore to listen to your words cutting him to the very core.
One of the biggest mistake about accepting Price’s offer of going out with the rest of the team for a quick drink was forgetting your non-existing alcohol tolerance. As the drink was now swimming through your blood stream, your lips become looser and there were few moments were you had almost spilled the fact that your ex-husband just happens to be sitting in front of you in the table you shared with the rest of 141.
“You sure you’ll be alright to head home on your own?” Your boss has inquired the moment it was announced the pub was closing up for the early morning.
You nodded with a smile, but the warmth that you were certain painted your skin and the dazed eyes, you were all too sure that it would be a big mistake for you to do. Go knows how dangerous it would be for a drunk like you to head home all on your own.
“I’ll take her home.” Simon announced and before you could protest, John had nodded agreeing that it would be the best thing to do and you couldn’t protest or show even a smidge of irritation as you were given a death glare by your ex-husband.
“Thank you for letting me join you guys.” You spoke towards your boss, the giggly duo of Soap and Gaz. “I’ll text once I get home.” You promised them following Simon out of the pub.
You took a deep breath as the cool morning air sobered you up for a moment as you waited for the man with his car. Frowning when you realized the man didn’t have his car with him but rather his death machine known as his motorcycle.
“Here.” He muttered practically shoving an all too familiar helmet towards you.
Like quick work, you had put on the helmet, ensuring to adjust the strap before the man does. You were still unprepared to be in close proximity with the man but here you were.
Watching him pull down the foot peg, he turned to you waiting for you to ride him—ride his motorcycle. With a deep breath you rode behind him, the skirt riding up your legs and he was quick to pull it down for your own decency before revving the engine on.
“Hold on tight.” He ordered and your body was on autopilot as you wrapped your arms around his waist as he sped off.
You know it was the alcohol but you find yourself smelling him, the all too familiar smell of his musk and cologne—the same cologne you had given him when he told you were promoted to Lieutenant. Your head rested on his back, cheek squished against the expansion of his back, feeling the way his back tense at your touch as it had the same effect for you feeling his warmth all over again.
“Where?” He questioned you as the bike halted at the stoplight.
You slurred your words, but you did your best to tell him directions to where your apartment was. Your sober self would have slapped you at the back of the head for letting Simon know about your whereabouts, knowing it wasn’t something he needed to know anymore.
For a moment as the winds blew against your cheeks, you were brought back to the memories of your time together. How you feared his driving and his bike more than anything else in the world but every single time he made sure you were at your safest with him, always did even in this moment.
You remembered the dates you would both have at night when he was at his most sleepless. By the park, your arms wrapped around him as his head rested on your shoulders. How you had carried so much of his nightmare even when you truly knew nothing but what he would let you know which wasn’t much and would only be in the instance that you would have accidentally heard during his nightmares.
You remembered how tired you were as much as you loved him, how much he had meant the world to you in that very moment but slowly but surely it wasn’t the same anymore. You felt the resentment before the anger for everything he wasn’t willing to give you. You gave him everything thing but he could barely give you anything in return.
“We’re here.” Simon announced, pulling away from him you turned and he was right. You were back in your apartment and you didn’t realize how fast time has flown since as you were deep in your thoughts.
Hopping down the bike with the man helping you, you turned to him and your mouth moved before you could stop yourself.
“Want to head inside—for coffee at least as a thank you?”
“I think coffee and a conversation would be the best thing for the both of us to do at this point in time, Love.”
You felt your pulse quicken as everything single thing you had talked about in the pub was coming back to bite you in the ass. Simon has his ulterior motive after all for wanting to escort you back home.
All you did was nod, heading to the door with the man following closely behind. You felt your hands shaking but you had succeeded in keying the door open. Opening the door for him, you walked further inside, opening the lights and toeing off the flats you had on.
You placed your wallet and keys on the coffee table and found yourself sitting on the couch waiting for the man to follow you.
You heard Simon close the door, the sound of the lock being turned and the sound of his leather jacket had you worried for what was to come.
“I fucking take you seriously with the bloody helmet still on your head.” He pointed out as he stood right in front of you, unclasping the helmet from your head and for the first time in a long time, you saw him up close and the way the darkness of his eye bags was the most prominent about him—it had gotten so much worse than when you were still married. Was it because of you?
“Sorry.” You mumbled as you watched him place the helmet on top of the coffee table alongside most of your things.
“Where’s the kitchen?”
You pointed towards you left and the man had made himself at him. The sound of cupboard being opened and the all too familiar muttering of horrible instant coffee you always wanted was heard. You wanted to let out a giggle but the sudden fear of the reality of your decision brought back something you never thought you would ever relive.
You sigh elbows digging onto your thighs, as your slumped your face into your hands. Why did you offer to have him here? Why did you accept the offer of him taking you back home? Why did you accept Kate’s offer of working for John? Why did you decide to divorce Simon?
In your own mini-panic attack, the smell of vanilla latte had you pulling away from your hands and you saw the cup of coffee already in the table and Simon was already sitting in front of you, without the surgical mask and without the figurative mask he was wearing at the base.
“Why are you doing this to me?” He questioned.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of all the places you could work why the base?”
“It’s not like I knew you were working for Price.” You snort. “It was Kate that suggested I work there—a new environment for me after everything that happened.”
Kate had called it her own version of exposure therapy. You truly appreciated her help even after knowing your ex-husband was working there in the same vicinity as you.
“You could have left?”
You snort. Aside from everything that came with the military, the money was too good to leave—but that was not something you would want to discuss with Simon knowing his intent to still provide for you even with the ink on the divorce papers were still drying.
“Why would I? You and I have nothing between us.” You spoke, knife sharp as his own words of calling you a headache to him.
“What you said to the team is that the real reason why you filed for divorce?”
All you could do was nod.
“You could have talk to me that you weren’t happy anymore we could have made it work.”
“No you won’t, Si.” You shook your head, arms crossed against your chest, you feared the words that would be thrown between the two of you now especially at your state. “I would have made it work.”
“What do you want me to do then? What could I have done then? You say one thing but mean something else?”
“Because every single time I wanted you to open up to me, you closed yourself up even more!” You spat right at him now. “Do you know how hard it was for me to bare myself to you about the shit in my life and in my family only to be reciprocated with how your family was fucked up but not an explanation for it?”
“That’s none of your business.” His voice grows dark, it was a sensitive topic.
“Then why were we even married if it wasn’t my business?” Your voice growing louder now, exasperated by this conversation. “What was the use of our vows if you would keep the smallest things a secret from me?”
“It’s not fucking small!” He screamed right back at you and you instinctively flinched at his voice then. Why was he being so cruel to you now?
“When I married you, I accepted you for who you are, I accepted that you can’t truly tell me what your missions were about or about whatever details about your deployment were. But even just something, anything that would make me believe that I was something more than a whore you could fuck and a maid that would take care of the house and cook you fucking food would have been appreciated.”
“You were my wife, wasn’t that enough?”
“No it was not, Simon.” You spat. “You never made me feel like I was truly your wife when you shut yourself down after coming home to me. You weren’t the same man that I had accidentally spilled coffee on when we first met.”
“If you knew me for the things I’ve been through you wouldn’t look at me the same way.”
“And how would you know that?” You questioned him. “How could you think for me when you don’t even know what I would think of you after everything we’ve been through?”
“You want to know the truth?”
“Yes. Maybe that way I can finally move on from anything that has to do with you.”
You know that was the wrong thing to say as the man cracked his neck and began to talk. About his life, about the abuse he had to endure at the hands of his father. He began to talk about the new beginning of his life when his father died and everyone tried their best to recover. He told you of his mother that he loved more than anything else at that point, of his brother, of his sister-in-law, and of his young nephew Joseph.
He told you about how he was finally at peace with the trauma of his life back then before things gotten to hell and back. He told you of the man named Roba, he told you of the abuse he had to once again go through at the hands of Roba’s men, physically, mentally, and sexually. He told you why he hated confined spaced after being buried alive in a coffin with a man named Vernon, a rotten corpse that he had to use the jaw of to escape death.
He told you of the death of his family, of Marcus Washington killing his family. Killing his mother, his brother, his sister-in-law, and his nephew that didn’t deserve being involved in anything the mission was about. He told you how he had to burn the bodies of what was left of his family and his identity in the process. You learned then why he was called Ghost and what it had meant for him and his past that continued to haunt him.
You were left stunned, unable to form words about everything that has happened to your husband. But it was the fact that now everything about him made sense. All the little things about his personality of why he was the man that sat in front of you today. It all made sense and it scared you that he was right. How you truly didn’t know what to say or what to feel now that you’ve learned of his past that he tried so hard to hide from you.
“Happy?”
“Don’t be cruel, Simon.” You whispered now, the tears were slowly forming from your eyes now, you wanted to cry for him, to mourn the family that he had lost and for adding yourself into the pain he was now enduring.
“Cruel?” He laughed, no humor in his words, malice was more evident. “What’s cruel is you still using my last name and airing out our dirty laundry to the men I work with instead of talking to me first.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” You shook your head, stung by his words. He was right but you weren’t going to admit it right now. A small ounce of pride still clawing its way out of you. “And you know why I still used your last name.”
It was your family. You wanted to erase was little traces of your family remained. Even in the divorce, you always had it in mind to remain a Riley. It was better than having to be the ghost of your former self all over again.
He stood now, knowing it was all he needed to know. He walked away but somehow a lingering thought had you opening your lips all over again.
“Why didn’t you fight for me, Si? Why did you sign the papers back then if you truly didn’t want to break up?”
“Because no matter how much I loved and needed you in my life, I will always choose your happiness before my own.” He answered, opening the door and leaving.
The sound of his bike echoing as you were left to mourn the closure of your relationship with the man that had meant the world to you. With all the regret finally coming full force you were left knowing that you had broken the man more than he already was and there was no turning back from it anymore.
It’s been well over a year now since you have been hired as Captain John Price’s secretary. Things were slowly but surely getting better for you and your career. Since the day you had talked with Simon, you wouldn’t say things between the two of you were getting better but you were civil with each other. You’ve interacted with him a few times, especially when it came to paper works but nothing more was said between the two of you.
Even with Price’s rule of not getting yourself involved with anyone in the team, it was becoming a mission for both Gaz and Soap to set you up with people on the base. Doctors or medics were somehow their number one target for you, but every single time, you find yourself relenting to just one date but never pushing for something more.
After knowing the truth about your ex, you didn’t have the heart to be so cruel to him more than you already were working in the base as him. Your free time away from base were spent with hobbies you had while still being married to Simon, baking and journaling, it was relief to be able to do it now with a new light was shed to the events of your marriage failing. You’ve also come to accept the offer of Kate’s wife’s therapist. It was a big help to be able to talk to someone else about everything you’ve been through.
You’ve learned to accept that you had your own mistake in the failure of your marriage just as much as Simon did. But your therapist has also come to mention that you needed to begin your own journey of healing from the what ifs of it, and live in the aftermath as painful as it was for you now.
“That dangerous?” You found yourself fearing for the worse at the conversation you were having with your boss as he explained to you the vague details of the upcoming mission him and the rest of the Task Force had for today.
With the chaos of prepping and planning, your boss was constantly on his feet and you were following him every step away for most of it to field calls and handle most of the paperworks to be sent out to sign and shipped to the higher ups. But to know a glimpse of what was happening and how your ex-husband would be involved in all of this worried you more than you would like to admit.
“It is what it is, if it meant a safer and better world, we would do it over and over again.” He explained.
“Just be careful, I still want to keep my job and I can’t if you’re dead, Boss.” You teased.
“Laswell can still be able to deal with you if I’m gone.” He retorted right back earning a quick laugh from you.
One thing that you had gotten so used to was his humor and how you had showcased your own as time went by working for the man. You appreciated him for being one of the two best bosses you had ever had in your career.
“Shouldn’t you be preparing for the mission?” You quipped right back.
“I should.” He chuckled standing right up in his full height. “Can you go check on the boys for me while I do?”
You could have refused, but a small part of you wanted to check up on Simon. Standing up, you had made your round, first stopping by Soap’s room to check up on him and notify him about the mission. Soap being the man that he was already suggesting you another man in the base beforehand.
“How about Micah? Pretty bloke that just joined the Medic team.” He began shoving the rest of his things into his duffle bag.
“Johnny, for the last time, I’m not into those pretty type you think I’m into.” You tried to indulge him in the conversation for now knowing it would ease him from the mission.
“What is your type so me and Gaz could actually find someone for you?” He pouted.
“Tall, blonde, dark and broody and with a heavy Manchester-accent.” You indulged him with description of the only man you actually loved.
“Why the fuck are you describing Ghost?” He snorts. “You got a thing for him? I thought you swore off anyone from the military?”
“Never said it was Ghost, Johnny.” You quipped right back. You hugged him and have him wrap his arms around you right back. “Be careful for me will you, I can’t live my life here in the base knowing you or Gaz aren’t here trying to set me up with anyone and everyone in the base including the married ones.”
“Hey we didn’t know Wilson was married.” He protested as he pulled away to look at you in offense.
“At this point I’ve already had dinner with half of the base, let’s keep it to a minimum when you get back. I might show you my ex so you can have an idea of what my type is.”
“Deal.” He grinned kissing you on top of the head before leaving to head to the meeting room.
You next stop was Gaz which wasn’t much of a journey with how close his room was to Soap’s. Knocking inside, you were immediately welcomed into the arms of Gaz. Unlike Soap that had been fixated with setting you up with someone in the base, Gaz was more focused on the next get together you could go to after the mission.
“I think me and Soap could convince Price to have a weekend in his vacation house in Cornwall.”
You nodded knowing it wouldn’t take much to convince Price if it meant helping the rest of the team with de-stressing and ensuring everyone has recovered mentally from the mission. But it also meant that you would be in charge of cooking knowing you and Price were the only ones that knew how to cook and you wanted your boss to actually have time to recover himself in the process.
“As long as you help me with grocery and prepping then you got a deal.” You winked pulling away from him with a smile already excited to bake them your famous apple pie they constantly beg you to make for them since the first time making it for them.
“Deal.” He grinned kissing you on the cheeks and just like Soap, finding himself heading out with his bag already at hand.
It now meant you had one last person you needed to stop by before the mission prep. You took your time somehow rehearsing what you could probably say to the man for his upcoming mission. You had your worry and you knew this was a dangerous mission.
Knocking on his door, you heard the gruff response from the other side of the door.
“Simon?” You called and immediately heard the door being unlocked.
You were faced with him wearing his skull balaclava mask. This was the side of him that you never gotten used to see but it was a part of him that you could never truly erase from him.
“What’s wrong?” He asked you allowing you to walk inside.
“Price told me to notify you about heading out for the mission.” You explained. “And I just—I just wanted to ask you to be careful on the mission.”
“Always.” He nodded.
A moment of silence has passed between the two of you before you were reminded of your therapist’s words. There was nothing wrong if you extended an olive branch to the man after everything was out in the open.
“After the mission, I would love to have you join us in Price’s cabin in Cornwall for a quick vacation too.” You added. “I know you’re busy with whatever you need to do to distress after a mission, but I would think it would be good to you if you joined. I can opts this one out if you’re more comfortable with that.”
“I’d go.” He nodded. “But I want you to join along and I want you to make me that lovely cheesecake you always make for me after I come home from deployment.”
You smiled knowing that it was always the same, a way to a man’s heart is always through his stomach.
“Anything else you want?” You asked wanting to give in to his all too simple request.
“And I want us to at least be friends, you’re part of the team now and they care for you and it wouldn’t do anyone good for us to act like we can’t stand each other.”
You nodded, heart aching a little at what he wanted. Friends. That was all he wanted and you would gladly compromise this time for him if that was what makes him truly happy.
“Friends.” You smiled, taking a hesitant step towards him for a hug but stopped mid movement as he pulled you right into his arms. The all too familiar warmth that consumed him.
“I wished things would have been different between the two of us.” He whispered kissing the top of your head. “I’d give you the world when I couldn’t give you myself fully.”
You closed your eyes wrapping your arms around his broad back.
“I wished I was strong enough for the two of us.” You whispered the tears slowly forming your eyes. “I wished I stayed a little longer for the two of us.”
“I never stopped loving you, Love. We might not be married anymore but you will be the only woman I will ever love truly with all my life and with all my soul.”
“You too, Si.” You whispered looking up at him allowing the tears to flow freely from your eyes now. “After everything that had happened between us, I will always love you.”
It was the middle of the night when you heard the familiar ringtone of your old phone. The same phone that only Simon knew the number to. You blinked away the sleep as you pulled the phone right out of the bedside table.
An unfamiliar number took you by surprise and for a moment you wanted to not answer it thinking it might be a telemarketer—but something had pushed you to press the answer button and hear whoever was on the other line.
“Hello?” You whispered clearing your throat.
“Mrs. Riley?” The familiar voice of John had you tensing. You found yourself sitting up from the bed as he began to introduce himself and why he had called.
“What happened to Simon?” You questioned checking your bedside clock to see what time it was.
It was just past midnight, three weeks since they had left for their mission and this was the first time you had gotten any contact to any one of them.
“As of right now, we are not sure if he would make it through the night. If you want we could have you someone fetch you to see him.”
You felt your world still at the news. Just when things were finally moving into the right direction between you and Simon.
“I’ll be there as soon as possible.” You assured hanging up and changing into some sweatshirt and sweatpants.
The travel to the now familiar base was a daze to you as you drove. You weren’t much of a religious person, but your lips did not stop moving as you prayed. You prayed that your husband would be alright, you bargained that you would make things right with him if it meant he would stay.
“Don’t leave me, Simon.” You whispered over and over again until you arrived to the base.
You had ignored most of the surprise that the soldier on duty had shown at your sudden appearance—the fact that you were in just your ratty clothes was also something you chose to ignore as you made a beeline to where the infirmary was.
Huddled in front of the door was your boss, John, Soap, and Gaz. Each and every single one of them injured in their own way—mostly superficial from the bandages that plastered all over their beaten faces.
“John.” You called having three heads turning to you in question. “How is he?” You questioned as the tears begin to fall from your eyes at the reality of the situation coming to crush you. “How is my husband?”
The realization washed over all of them, of the secret you and Simon had hidden from everyone. The weight was too much as you were wrapped in the arms of the family you had found yourself becoming a part of.
“Will he be alright?” You pleaded, holding onto John’s vest. “Please tell me he will be alright.” You begged falling to your knees in front of him.
“The doctors are doing their best, Love.” John reassured kneeling in front of you, wrapping you into his arms as you continued to sob. “But Simon took most of the impact from the explosion.”
The reality scared you so much. You tried you best to remember the last interaction you had with Simon, the hug, the promise of a new beginning, and everything else in between. It all came crashing down to this very point.
There was a very big chance that you will finally lose Simon and it scared you so much more than anything in this world. You couldn’t lose him, not like this, not when there was so much left between the two of you to make up for.
“He can’t leave me, John.” You whimpered. “He promised me he wouldn’t leave me like this.” You screamed at the top of your lungs.
You were made aware of the vows you had made to each other when you got married at the court house. Of how he had promised to the best of his abilities that he wouldn’t die in the line of duty before he could have the chance to retire. He promised you a family, he promised you the world, and he promised you your happiness. He was your family, he was your world, and he was your happiness that you realize only when it was too late.
For the next few weeks, the world around you had become blur. You were now much of a permanent fixture of the Taskforce’s base. Morning and the afternoon was spent still working for Price, especially with the piling number of paperworks the mission had caused and your nights were spent in the infirmary, watching over Simon that has yet to awake from his slumber.
When the doctors had given you the green light that you can see him—it took you hours before you did. Even after John, Soap, and Gaz had finished with their own visit, it took so much of what little strength you had to finally see him in his state.
Broken bones, laceration, head trauma, blood loss and amongst the other injuries that the doctors has informed you should have killed him but he was still alive even in his current state. He still had fight in him, he was still fighting to keep alive.
“I’ve come to realize that post-mission Price was a whole different breed of a grump, more than he usually is.” You began talking to your still unconscious ex.
The doctor had told you about him being able to hear your voice and you took the opportunity to talk his ear off with him unable to give his usual sarcastic comments or grunts as response. There were days you told him about your day at work, days where you told him about what you had been doing since you left your home and tried and failed to move on from him, and there were days where you apologized to him, regretting the divorce and everything else that been the reason for the demise of your marriage.
“I think since the divorce I’ve realized a lot of shit about us.” You sighed leaning against the uncomfortable plastic chair. “If you wake up, I’ll try to do my best to convince you to take me back.” You mused arms crossed against your chest. “I know you don’t have as much of a happy memory after what happened to your family, but when you wake up, I want to make sure we make as much happy memories as we could together, I want you to tell me about what your Ma was like, what kind of brother Tommy was like, and how adorable Joseph was, I want all of that and more with you.”
You wiped away the tears that have yet to fall, you didn’t want to cry. You thought that you didn’t have any more tears to shed. The gravity of almost losing Simon was the wakeup call you needed and now it was nothing more than a waiting game until he wakes up.
“I fucking can’t be your friend, Si.” You admit. “I can’t be happy with just being your friend. I want you to be my husband again, Si. After almost losing you I know I can’t live knowing we haven’t fixed our relationship. I’ll do anything and everything to make it up to you, all the pain and hurt I’ve caused you.”
“Anything?”
You almost jumped from where you sat at the sight of the man whose eyes were now focused on you.
“Simon?”
“Am I just high or did you say what you did?”
“What?”
“That you would make up for everything?” He muttered groggily.
“I did.” You nodded blinking in disbelief that he was here, awake. Alive.
“Then marry me. Let me make it right this time, Love. I promise I’ll make it work, I’ll do my best to make you happy the way that you deserve.”
“Yes.” You answered almost immediately, finding yourself giggling about how ridiculous his second proposal was with his current state—but you didn’t want it any other way.
He requested for you to take his dog tag around his neck off and only then did you notice that your wedding ring enclosed around his necklace. Even with the years that passed, he still had it with him. The very same ring you two had brought together before you had headed to the courthouse for your marriage.
“Can I add another stipulation?” He held onto your free hand.
“Anything.” You smiled rubbing your hand against the callousness of his hand. “Anything to make it work, Si.”
“No more blind dates from the Sergeants.”
“They could never hold a candle to you, Simon.” You giggled leaning in for a kiss, the weight that rested on your shoulders slowly easing away.
You were home, you were back in the arms of Simon after all was said and done.
#cod mw2#simon riley x reader#ghost mw2#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley fanfic#fem reader#simon riley mw2#simon riley x female reader#cod fic#mw2 fic#mw2 x you#mw2 x reader#ghost riley#simon riley fluff#simon riley angst#simon riley fanfiction#call of duty
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You don’t get to tell me about sad
Previous chapter
a/n part three! I’m brain dead so sorry for the wait. I hope you will all enjoy this. 🫧🫶🏻
summary: Azriel gets an assignment he can’t seem to decline. Now he has a princess full of attitude under his protection. The only question is whose cold heart will break first.
warning: past trauma, scars, injuries, blood.
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You were sure that your lip was going to burst from the way you kept biting on it, trying to suppress the laugh as the carriage rolled through the misty autumn forest. Convinced that nothing was ever going to top the sight of Azriel, squished the opposite of you. He was scowling so hard that he was most definitely the reason why the sky had ripped open. Pouring rain drowned the lush forest since the early morning. It looked like you were driving to a funeral at best, gruesome execution at best.
“Don’t start with me today," Azriel grunts, his eyes burning into yours. Yet now that he acknowledged you, the smile only seemed to spread wider. He lets out a grunt, and a quiet giggle slips past your lips. "Princess, life suits you," you mumble, making Azriel roll his eyes. “Come on now; it’s not so bad. Don’t huff”, you nudge his leg with your heel, earning yet another glare.
“Could have winnowed us there”, “You did almost all the way”, you point out. And you would have happily obliged, but the murmurs about something being wrong with the high lord’s family had started. So Lucien and Eris had made their outing. If not for the rain, you would have done just the same. Take a walk through the main streets. But now seeing the family carriage and your face through the glass would have to be enough.
“Why do you hate autumn so much?”, It’s a bold statement to make. You’re not sure if he even hates it. Well, considering the amount of frowning he does, he has to. “I have my reasons," Azriel answers as bluntly as he can. “Care to elaborate?", you turn to him, ready to dig an answer out of him if you had to. He owned you, considering his creeping around your room. But your eyes fall on the way he’s trying to subtly rub his palms together. The scarred skin—humidity must be making the bones ache too. He’s impossible to read, but you’re convinced that the discomfort hunts some of his features. You don’t care. You shouldn’t care, yet you still inch closer. There’s not much space inside the carriage considering that man’s size, but it’s enough for you to brush your legs against him. As expected, Azriel’s hands instantly reached to put distance between you both. But that’s when you yank the side of your cloak up, draping the fur-lined material over his scared palms.
“What are you?", "Shhhh," you say quickly. He tries to pull them out, but you catch his gaze—a daring look there. “Know your”, but you cut him off once more, “Next words out of your mouth better be, thank you, princess," you muse. Azriel clenches his jaw. But he doesn’t pull back. Doesn’t fight the warmth slowly seeping through the stiff skin. “I thought you hated that nickname, princess," he says. One thing this man hadn’t learned in life was dealing with women. Clearly. You shrug, “Not so bad when it’s you who calls me that," you muse, watching as a glimpse of surprise washes over his features, and then the scowling coldness returns.
Azriel doesn’t like it here. The thought alone had unsettled him ever since Lucien had announced the need to go back. “The High Lord needs to make a statement," Lucien had stated. Azriel itched to say that Eris wasn’t his high lord. But he knew that regardless of Eris’s wishes, he would have gone. Because you were going there. So here he was, standing outside the forest house. Not daring to go forward alone. You had waved him off. Told him to go inside while you checked on the horses. But he refused to step inside. So he stood there, trying to memorize every window.
“Who’s snooping now?", your voice fills Azriel’s ear as he slowly turns to you. Arms crossed as you grin at him. He wonders why you hadn’t mentioned that night in your room. Why you brushed it off so easily. “I just needed to stretch my wings." It’s not so much of a lie. It had been a disaster of a trip here. You barely manage to open your lips when an unfamiliar voice comes from behind, “Yn, Yn.“
Azriel pushes you behind him, his hand reaching for his dagger. But you slip out of his grasp, glancing over his shoulder. And then you’re stepping forward. “Makoa?”, it’s a whisper, and Azriel doubts that a disheveled-looking boy would hear it. But he does. And that name alone makes Azriel uneasy. The same boy you had sneaked out with. And just like that Azriel decides that he hates Makoa.
"Wait," you push again Azriel's arm, but his grip doesn’t falter. “Anyone can be a threat," the spymaster points out. “I know him," and it’s the desperation that makes Azriel back up. The same one that he had when he called out to Mor. To Elain. The lost kind. One that had you hanging up on things that weren’t there.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you," Makoa mutters once he is in arms reach of you. Azriel has to bite his tongue because nothing about that statement seems genuine. “You can imagine it’s been busy over here," and your voice is different too. Hazy almost. You bite at Azriel. Spewing venom. And here, this boy makes you behave like a youngling with your first-ever crush. “You could have written to me; I’ve missed you." Makoa raises his hand, and Azriel instantly inches to step forward, but then the boy is leaning in, his lips brushing over yours. Making Azriel lower his head. A strange sort of feeling brews within him. One that’s not welcome here. So he turns back onto his heel, heading deeper into the woods. To clear his consciousness. His logical thinking. His heart.
“Everyone missed you," Makoa points out, your hands clasped in his. The feeling is strange. It’s all so wrong because, yes, he has been vocal about courting you, but this… To be kissed in front of someone he doesn’t even know. You glance back. Eyes scanning the front gardens. He’s not there. Azriel isn’t there, and a dreadful sort of uneasiness pools in your stomach.
“It’s just been a couple of days," you brush his statement off. You were trying to find joy in something you had dreamed of ever since you slipped that book beneath the floorboards. “You’re behaving strangely," Makoa mutters, his hand reaching out for your forehead, but you bat it away. “I’m just tired," but you’re more than tired. You need answers, and quite frankly, you’re willing to do about anything to get them.
You can trust the man in front of you. His mother used to do laundry for your family. Until Beron changed his mind or whatever happened. As if reading your mind, Makoa reaches up, cupping your cheek, “What is it you can tell me?" A part of you is screaming to just drop it. Talk to Azriel first. But then he wasn’t there. He wouldn’t know.
“Do you remember the night on the harvest moon, well after it?”, you say quietly, looking over your shoulder for servants. “I walked you home," Makoa shrugs. Well, he did more than that, but sure, that will do for now. “Someone was waiting for me," you admit. “I didn’t go inside; I went to the barn to feed the horses." It was misty and cold outside. You didn’t catch their face. Just a hooded figure.
“I... someone tried to slice my throat open." Brushing your hair to the side, you let the white line shine in the midday sun. Makoa watches. But he doesn’t frown. There’s almost no reaction. Azriel looked more concerned when you caught him brushing his fingers over it that night. Genuine concern. Or maybe you were just imagining it.
Makoa brings you into his chest. “What a shame," he breathes out, and your hands are instantly pushing against his chest. "Pardon," you huff, brows knit together. “I mean, it’s horrible, yes," he says, lifting his arms in defiance. You shake your head. Too tired. Too tired for this. After all, you didn’t expect him to take you seriously. He was too wild. Too carefree for that.
"Look, just be careful, okay?", you mutter, your eyes searching him, but he only shoots you a wicked smile. “You don’t have to worry about me," he muses. You burn to tell him that you both are no longer kids. There are serious matters, but you don’t have it in you to fight another battle today. “I’ll see you in the party," you say as you step back, letting your fingers slip out of his grasp. But then he’s pulling you back. Hand on the side of your face. An eager kiss smothered against your lips, “I wouldn’t miss the spectacle.”
Azriel’s task this weekend was easy. If he was being honest, he didn’t quite grasp why exactly he was asked to come. But then Eris might have just done it to spite him. All he was responsible for was keeping an eye on you when Eris and Lucien couldn’t. So essentially, babysit a grown woman. Now he was standing with his back against your door. Throwing his knife up and down in his hands. Trying to beat his record of spins before it lands back into his palm.
“Okay, am...", your voice breaks the second-floor silence, making Azriel pause. “Can you get Maria?”, Azriel shakes his head even if you can’t see him, “She just went outside for the flower arrangements." The elderly woman had pinched his cheek way too many times, but as much as he hated it, she reminded Azriel of his own mom.
"Fuck," the sound of things falling inside the room, makes Azriel press his ear to the door.“What’s going on?”, he demands. Silence falls. “I...", you start, but it ends with a frustrated sigh. “Well, let’s hear it," he muses, hoping for yet another privileged little dig he could throw back at you.
“I can’t reach the back of the dress to do the..." It’s a whisper. A frustrated one at that. “We have twenty minutes," Azriel points out. “I know, tree man, I know," you growl in frustration, cursing to yourself as you continue to struggle.
“I'm coming in," Azriel states, instantly frowning at his own words. "No, you are not," you snarl, and he is sure that you are frowning. “On three," the spymaster warns. But he doesn’t even get a chance to start the countdown. “Fucking, Azriel,” you say, yanking the door open. Rosy cheeks. Slightly disheveled hair. And that deep red satin dress. So far different from the one he had seen you in the first time you both met. That was a girl. This… You were meant to be in red. In…
“Eyes up here, moron," you say, reaching up to flick his nose. One arm holding the material upfront. You turn away from him. The smooth back exposed to his scared hands. Azriel shakes those thoughts away. “I’ve seen females before," he states, reaching for the golden buttons. “Really? I would have taken you for a virgin," you snort, shaking your head ever so slightly. Azriel fake gasps, earning a glimmer in your eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?”, he says in the most dramatic way possible. You bite your lip, trying to hide that smile. He knows it. Feels it.
“Just do the dress up," you urge him, motioning to your back. Azriel halts, letting his hands drop to his side. “Start with a please," he says proudly. You glance up at him, “Are you being serious?” Surely a man who just completed about the amount of time you had wasn’t going to start playing games. “I decided that etiquette lessons are in order," he shrugs, making you roll your eyes. “I will spit in your drink tonight. How is that for your etiquette lessons?” You flash him one of your fake smiles. “Delightful, just how I like it," and it’s so unexpected that you are left slack-jawed for a split second, and then he grabs your shoulder and turns you around, nudging you forward. “You’re disgusting," you say, pushing your heel against his leg, making a little rumble of laughter fill the space. “Says you," he breathes practically against your skin, sending shivers down your back.
You fidget with your sleeve as you and Azriel make your way towards the main part of the event. Public outings still felt strange. The big crowd overwhelmed you. But you had missed out on so many great things and parties, especially when you were growing up. That now….
“Only a weirdo disappears like that," you halt suddenly, leaving Azriel to walk along until he too stops. Turning to face you. You quickly put a finger against your lips, stepping closer to the second-floor railing. “That’s what I told Makoa”. You know those voices. You don’t even need to look down the staircase to know who they belong to.
“Daddy beat her, I heard," and it’s like someone dumped a bucket of ice water on you. Tingles spread through your body like fire.“ She lived beneath the floorboards; I doubt she knows how to interact with living things." You let the words slash at you. After so many years, they don’t make a difference. It’s the fact that every time you feel as if you found someone willing to look past it, they still end up stabbing you in the back.
That’s when your eyes fall on Azriel, practically charging towards the stairs. "Don't," you hiss, reaching to grab at his wrist, pulling him back. “It’s disrespectful, and I’m being very polite with my words here," he grunts. Venom. Purest of venom painting his features, and yet you cut him off. “I said don't," you step in front of him, pressing your palms against his chest. “It’s just another joke for them. You throwing a fit and acting all gruff won’t change a thing.”
Azriel watches you for a moment before a bitter laugh crawls up his throat. “And those are your friends? People that you think are not a threat to you? ”, he points downstairs in frustration. A wave of guilt. Shame. Fills you in seconds. You feel that familiar sting in your eyes. But you brush it beneath all the other pain. “Daddy got them for me; I didn’t have a chance to choose; my apologies," you purr through gritted teeth.
And it’s as if you threw a comeback punch. The arrow shooting once again. Azriel’s shoulders sag. “Yn...", he breathes out, but you don’t want it. Don’t want pity. The sad eyes. The smothering. To hell with it. “We should go find my brothers." You pick at the skirt of your dress, turning to the stairs. “It was insensitive of me," Azriel’s words slam into the wall you had built, making you close your eyes for a moment. “Don’t get tangled in this; this has nothing to do with you," you mutter, not turning back to face him. Forcing your legs forward. Azriel stands at the top of the staircase for a heartbeat, watching you. Then he glances over his shoulder. One heartbeat. Two. And he unleashes his shadows to the first floor.
The terrace is buzzing with people. If it were up to Azriel, he would be right by the platform, but there are Eris’s guards here. So he’s just standing by. That prick had it in him to suggest wine. Azriel, of course, took it. Before dumping it right next to Eris’s shoes. Rhys told him to behave, yes. And so he was, because the second option was to punch the fireling in his face. Pick and choose.
Azriel catches a glimpse of you. Well, more like all he had been doing was catching glimpses of you. Like a moth to a flame. Even if he tells himself not to, his eyes always seem to find you. That distant look in your eyes. Like you’re not here, even if your body is. He also doesn’t doubt that it’s partly because of the things the people said. Why not fight back? You seem to be fine doing that when it comes to him. But crumple the moment the people who are meant to be closest to you are involved.
As if by coincidence, your eyes glance up, meeting Azriel’s. He should be scowling, yet he finds himself smiling. Just a little. He puts a finger beneath his chin, pushing it higher. Encouragement of sorts. You’re supposed to radiate power, not look like a damsel in distress. You return it with an eye roll, making the corners of Azriel’s lips curve even more. Deny it or not. You do lift your head up. That tingle of fire blazing just a bit brighter. That will do. It would have to be enough to get you through it.
The music dies, and Eris walks close to the platform edge, that fox-line smile on his face. “It’s an honor to have you all here, so I thank you for finding time to join us," the high lord begins. “I know that the court is facing some challenging times, but you should not be afraid." Azriel crosses his arms over his chest as he listens. “I will do everything that is in my power to protect our people and be a true and fair high lord." Then the Autumn High Lord turns back breathy. “And... I’ll have my family to aid me in these matters," motioning for his two siblings to come to stand closer. “Lucien and Y/n Vanserra will be taking their rightful place on the throne." The crowd explodes with chairs and joyful applause. As the three siblings smile in unison.
“And…”, But there’s no and. Nothing comes after it. As if someone had stolen all of the other promises. Azriel feels it too. It hits his senses. Making them restless. There’s something wrong. Something that doesn’t feel right. A banner behind the platform bursts into flames. The hot tongues, lapping at the family insignia. Some people back up. Eris waves for his guards, ordering them into action. People are bringing buckets full of water while Eris and Lucien try to wield the wildfire.
It’s the lightest of the sounds that follow next. It flickers, and... "Y/n," Azriel calls, making you snap your head sideways. “Y/n," he breathes out, and then he’s winnowing. His hands already stretched out. He has to make it. He will make it. There is no other option. So Azriel doesn’t let the what-ifs set in. Shrieks echo. Chaos breaks out. And then he’s up there. On the platform. One arm behind your body, the other on the arrow.
The time stops. Your wide eyes are looking at him. Green so deep that Azriel knows he has never seen anything like it. The freckles seem even darker now that your skin has paled almost to snow white. His fingers are trembling. He can’t see it. Can’t fucking see it; the bunched-up fabric is making it hard to judge. Had the arrow met its target? Your heart seems to beat beneath his palm. But are those the last beats? Then the red fabric turns an even deeper shade of red.
Every muscle tenses in Azriel’s body. "No," he mutters under his breath. He’s not letting you die just like that. Not on his watch. Not in some pointless death just because someone has a bone to pick with your brother. Your eyelashes flutter, and just for a heartbeat, Azriel is too slow to catch you. Your body sags, but the arrow stays there in Azriel’s head. It didn’t meet its target. Not fully, at least. Just nicked the skin. It feels as if someone rolled a mountain off of his chest.
"Azriel," it’s so light he almost misses it. The plea. The fear. Your fingers reach up for his leg. His darkness swirls around you both. And quite frankly, the spymaster is not too sure as to what’s going on outside. The world might as well be going to shit for all he cares. Kneeling, Azriel takes hold of your trembling hands, “I’ve got you, darling; I won’t let anything happen to you." He’s not sure if you even hear him. Eyes fixed on something as if you’re looking right past him.“I'm here; I'm with you," Azrie promises, moving to drape your arms over his shoulders. “Are you with me, love?” You’ve gone into shock, that he can tell. Yet you blink. Fingers gripped onto his flying leathers as you nod. "Good," he says, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, “Hold onto me, fireheart”.
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Taglist: @emryb @glitterypirateduck @xxtakeachancexx @justyouraveragekleemain @5onedirection5 @paleidiot
#azriel acotar x reader#azriel acotar imagine#azriel x you#azriel x oc#azriel imagine#azriel x reader#azriel spymaster#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel#acotar imagine#acotar x reader#acotar x oc#acotar x you#eris vanserra x reader#lucien vanserra x reader
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Can I pls request one where Leon is obsessed with his wife’s small baby bump? Like especially when she wears dresses he just can’t stop staring 🧎♀️🌸
baby blues
—re4!leon kennedy!husband x pregnant wife!reader
— a oneshot (request)
warnings: MDNI, 18+, a lot of fluff, leon being the best baby daddy out there, reader kind of hates being pregnant at times, reader deals with some body issues and how their body is changing, leon is so sweet and supportive, gives cocky hot dad vibes, mentions of pregnancy pain, oral (f receiving), breast play, lots of kissing and praise, mentions of past sex, mentions of doctors offices, cursing, leon and reader being the cutest little husband and wife out there.
“you had tried. tried stretching, tried taking a pill and had tried sleeping. but everything hurt. everything. your feet, your head, your back and especially your breasts. it felt like something was tugging and poking at all the soft parts of your body. it was torture, almost. if there wasn’t a handsome man next to you, rubbing your back as you laid on your side. leon dulled the ache a little, he looked at you still like the day he met you four years ago, even when you were pregnant, fat and you felt like death had taken over certain parts of your body. leon still looked at you like you were the most precious thing. and it made you wanna cry, scream and kiss him all at the same time.”
— or reader gets pregnant and tries to come to terms with it and leon has no problem helping her out
masterlist taglist
an: thank you for the request anon <33 hope you enjoy it. this was such a cute little thing to write. might make a headcanon list soon just for this specific request :,)
you and leon had talked about kids, about babies.
about the joy it would bring both of you to have something made by the two of you. to make you both enjoy the ties of your marriage and love.
you, however didn’t expect to get pregnant so soon after your marriage. but leon…leon was hard to resist and your body craved him and it was your choice. a choice that you made over and over and over again.
until two lines changed his life and yours entirely, it was hard ignore how the both of you panicked. the excitement, nerves and the rushing of your heart beating accelerated as you stared at the test…four month ago.
you both had been so careful, so very careful, but in one night of heated touches and sloppy kisses, you decided to fuck the condom and just deal. thinking the birth control you took would be enough, but it…it was not. definitely not.
you dealt with being pregnant like a champ, or tried to. you were sore now, you were fatter and you felt like a truck had hit you when you simply moved to grab something.
you loved the idea of carrying a child in retrospect, when leon had pounded you into the mattress many times before, thinking and muttering all the obscene words and images about breeding you. you literally keened at the idea, but now, now that you were here and doing it, you wanted to rip this kid out of you.
you hurt every moment of everyday, you were tired and hungry and whenever you saw that stupid ASPCA commercial on the tv with the dogs, you started bawling like a child. it was obnoxious and to think it would only get more strenuous as the moments that passed was literal torture.
and the doctors appointments, the vitamins you had to take and the way your body changed. it was a lot to handle, you had leon. you had him to help but sometimes it didn’t feel like it was enough. you couldn’t dress like you usually did anymore and could only wear the sundresses and other dresses you had hanging in your closet.
it felt like you were playing dress up, but it was the only thing you were comfortable in these days. the only thing that fit over the bump. the only thing that made you feel pretty and not like an inflated blimp.
and the one thing besides the pain, the bloating and the never ending amount of morning sickness you’ve had to deal with…the one thing you held onto was by the end of it you would get to be a mom. leon would get to be a dad, that was the only thing that kept you tethered to reality these days.
but leon enjoyed the sight of you in your dresses, that was one thing that also kept you tethered. the way he still ate you alive with his eyes, scouring you still as if you haven’t changed at all. you would always find his blue eyes piercing into your pregnant frame whenever you’d slip on a dress for the day or when you were bare and just got out of the shower.
it made you more aroused then usual, the only thing worse was the leon never acted on it. he never once stopped you and brought you to your guys bedroom. he never offered to eat you out anymore. you didn’t know why he was staring but wouldn’t act. was he worried that he’d hurt you? or the baby? you didn’t know, you had no clue.
but it was festering, each look he gave you in your pretty little dresses with your bump of pregnancy was making your skin hotter everyday. you didn’t know how much longer of this pregnancy you could take if he didn’t act on his desires. most importantly, your own.
two weeks, later and your sick of everything.
your sick of walking, your back pain, the peeing every five minutes. just everything makes you annoyed or feel like your going to crawl out of your own skin. you don’t get comfort in bed, you toss and turn. you’re then frustrated because you can’t sleep on your stomach, you wanna rip this baby out of you and it’s only the four month mark.
leon is a saint though. he’s bringing you food, rubbing your feet, holding your hair back when you throw up from the morning sickness. you feel bad for being such a bitch, for being so mean and hormonal. you try not to snap or throw a hissy fit.
but it’s hard.
you’re also sick of the doctor asking you twenty million questions when you go to your next appointment. already fed up from lack of sleep and your bowel movements. the baby is healthy, so everyone is happy. just not you.
another thing, leon keeps eyeing you and basically fucking you with his eyes. another thing that’s just adding up into your short limit of patience. you wanna scream at him to just fuck you, do something. you need a release. and if you could do it on your own, you would. but you can’t even see over your stomach or much less reach it.
so your just stuck feeling pent up and frustrated with everything. until one day, one day you just snap. you just lose your shit. you don’t remember what really caused it to happen, maybe it was the fact that you saw leon wearing only a towel after his shower, practically making you drool.
but you lost it. you just lost it, for absolutely no reason at all.
“can you stop looking at me like that?” you say softly as you look over at him, your being patient, so patient at this point and it makes you wanna scream or cry. he’s digging for something in your shared dresser drawer at this point, minding his own business.
leon looks behind him, over his shoulder to where you sit on the bed. he raises a small brow, “i’m not even looking at you, baby. i’m getting clothes.” he says with a small hint of amusement in his voice.
“you know what i mean, leon.” you say in a annoyed tone as you shift on the bed, the many pillows for your back pain and a heating pad pressed up against it. you opted for a t-shirt of his and underwear, the only two things besides dresses that you could really stand these days.
he grabs his boxers and takes off his towel, you try to ignore the arousal that’s literally pooling uncomfortably in your underwear as you see it. your trying to stay annoyed, stay focused, but his dick is just right there. so far out of your reach but so close and you just want to pounce on him.
“i can’t stare at my beautiful wife now?” he says with a small notch in his brow, pulling his boxers up over his dick, making you disappointed and snap back into what was currently happening. you huff and rub your bump, shifting against the heating pad and pillows.
“no, you can.” you say with a small glare in his direction, “but if your not gonna do something about it, i’d rather you tell me then just…” you trail off when he crawls on the bed next to you, sitting beside you. “angel, you have something you wanna share with me?” he says in that low and intimate tone that gets your insides all bubbly.
you gnaw on your bottom lip in contemplation, “no. i don’t.” he chuckles lowly and moves even closer to you on the bed, putting his hand on your thigh and squeezing. “i hardly believe that, baby. no offense.” he says softly as he presses a kiss to your ear.
you were going to jump him if he didn’t stop this, he was teasing you. he had to be, it was ridiculous that he couldn’t even see how miserable this was making you. “can you just…?” you start and fail pathetically as you try to squirm into his touch more on your thigh.
“can i just what?” he says in a soft timbre into your ear, almost daring and pushing you to say it. to ask. you were beyond irritated and wound up now. everything hurt and your body felt hot. “can you please touch me?” you say softly, you sound whiney and desperate and it’s nothing like you. but a part of you really didn’t care anymore.
you hormonal, achy and moody beyond relief. you just wanted him to touch you, to fuck you even. it was getting annoying how much your body had craved him since you became pregnant.
he didn’t move his hand from your thigh, his breath still ghosting over your ear and the side of your face. “i am touching you, love.” he says with an arrogant smirk against your skin.
arrogant bastard. you thought to yourself, you were brazen in the moment. “it hurts, leon. just…please?” you practically whined in that moment, you didn’t like the teasing. not when your patience was already short enough as it was.
he pressed a tender kiss to the side of your head, “what hurts, baby?” he says softly as he rubs his hand up her thigh and over her bump, soothing tender circles over your body and the baby beneath.
you don’t even care anymore, the soothing feeling of his hand over your t-shirt was enough. your cheeks were red though and you guided his hand up to your swollen breasts beneath your (his) t-shirt that you wore.
“oh, honey.” he sighs softly in a contented whisper against your head, pressing a small kiss to your hairline. he doesn’t move his hand on one of your swollen breasts, just rests his hand there as if he’s just supporting it with his large hand over the fabric.
“leon…please, it hurts.” you hear yourself breathe out in a whimper, one of pain or of desire, you didn’t know. you didn’t care to know right now. “hold on, hold on.” he mumbled softly as he shifted next to you, getting closer to your side, he adjusted himself on the pillows next to you.
“can’t deny my pretty little wife. can i?” he says into your ear with a small nip as his hand squeezed and kneaded one of your swollen breasts. you couldn’t help the sound that came out of you, a mix of relief and desire that you didn’t know you could make.
he moves his lips to press against your neck, nipping and licking as he kneads your breasts, trying to make the pain subside as you moan. “feels s’good…” you mumble in between small noises.
“i know, i know. sorry, for teasing you all this time.” he mumbles into your neck, “gotta stop teasing you…” he mumbles again in between kisses as he presses one more kiss under your ear.
his hands working up your swollen and aching breasts, you could feel your panties practically dripping with release. you grab at his bicep, curling around the muscle there for balance. “please…” you whimper softly.
he moves his lips up to your ear, “what do you want? use your words, baby.” he nips at your earlobe and keeps kneading your breasts, alleviating some of the ache there.
you grip down on his bicep harder, your hormones from the pregnancy were going crazy at his touch. “anything…something, please.” you whine softly near his ear as you almost draw blood. you just needed a release and you weren’t going to get far with him kneading your breasts.
“how about i eat out that pretty pussy? hmm?” he practically purrs into your ear as one of his hands leads down from your breasts to beneath the covers. your soaked underwear beneath your rotund belly, he finds it. an amusing sound leaving his mouth at your ear, tracing the pads of his fingers over your wet slit of your underwear.
his words and his touches having a disastrous affect on your pregnant body, you felt like a match that he was striking with flame and then putting out. it was so much in the best way possible.
you just nod rapidly, emitting a small whine as you clutch his bare bicep harder. “okay, pretty girl.” he presses another kiss to your ear, smirking to himself. he traces your wet slit again, marveling at how soaked you were for him.
“practically drenching your underwear, this all for me?” he muses as he pulls back on the bed next to you, pushing the covers back from your body. your hand falling down to the sheets beneath you, “yes…” you manage to get out as he clicks his tongue. a growl almost rose from his mouth as he gets farther back on the bed, moving in between your knees.
he sees the wet patch that’s soaking your underwear, he knew you were hormonal from the pregnancy. but god, how much arousal could form just from you looking at him? it needed to be studied, but he couldn’t help but feel his ego and confidence inflate.
your bodies reaction to him would always be something he’d never get tired of. especially now when you were drenching your pretty panties.
“fuck, baby. missed this sweet pussy.” he rasps as he looks up at you with hooded blue eyes, his pupils dilated. you knew that look well enough to know that he was going to give you what you both wanted.
release.
you mewl, “please, leon. don’t wanna beg…” you try to reach down to yank his hands or his head closer but your pregnant belly stops you. he puts a hand on the inside of your thigh, “no begging required. i’m going to eat out my pretty pregnant wife. i’m hungry anyways.” he smirks devilishly as he massage the meat of your thigh.
he doesn’t waste anytime, your head hits the mountains of pillows behind you. your chest rising and falling fast beneath his t-shirt that your wearing. his hands come up to the waist band of your underwear and slowly pull them down over your hips and bent legs.
your bare pussy is on display now and you feel the cold air hit your most private parts, ones that he’s seen before but now…now that you were pregnant and carrying his child…things were different. you looked more delicious now, looked more like he could eat you out for days. eat you and fuck you until the baby came.
god help him.
he doesn’t waste anytime, none whatsoever. he’s going to give you what you want. he rubs his fingers through your arousal, spreading it everywhere and teasing you just a bit longer.
you whine, “leon, please…just stop. i want it.” he looks up at you from where he’s laying on the mattress in between your bent legs. “i know baby, just admiring how beautiful you are…everywhere.” he smirks to himself and presses a kiss to the hood of your clit.
you moan a little, he clicks his tongue. “so sensitive.” he muses, “good to know some things never change after pregnancy.” he whispers as he presses another kiss to your clit.
“fuck…leon…” you whine softly, clenching the sheets beneath you. your hormone fueled body making you out to be this whiny monster.
he just chuckles against the skin of your dripping pussy, “just sit back and relax, sweet girl. i’ve got you.” he says as he runs his hands up to the sides of your hips, holding you steady as he dips his head down.
he starts licking a long stripe up from your drenched opening to your clit, your head tilting back as you moan loudly. you never failed to amaze him, get him hard and all worked up. you both had that affect on each other, good to know it was still intact.
how had leon not done this yet? not touched you this way yet when you’d been pregnant? you were like putty in his hands right now.
he felt like an idiot.
a large one. 
he stuck his tongue into your soaked opening and licked, fucking you with his tongue as you clenched the sheets harder beneath you. “fuck, want…uhh, so fucking good!” you moan loudly, practically screaming.
he just keeps fucking you with his tongue, almost rutting his boxer clad erection into the mattress. he reached one hand down to rub his thumb over your clit, still fucking you with his tongue.
your back arches a little, as much as it can without you hurting yourself. a white knuckled grip on the mattress is all you have as he ravishes you, keeps his tongue and fingers working you into oblivion as you writhe and moan underneath him.
“leon! uhh…fuck…” you babble nonsense as you feel the coil start to build in your lower abdomen, you had never come this fast before. but the fact that you were pent up, more hormonal then usual and he was working you open with his skilled mouth and fingers…
you were fucked, figuratively and literally.
he took his tongue out of your opening moving the finger that was on your clit, down to your soaked opening. his fingers working you open now, sliding one in which causes you to release a long moan, his name rolling off of your tongue.
his mouth attaching itself to your clit and licking, sucking and swirling his tongue. he was smirking as he did it. knowing that he was gonna feel you come all over his fingers and face.
he could do this forever, keep you pregnant forever just so he could hear those pretty little sounds you made when you’d fall apart beneath him.
he kept moving his pointer finger in and out, swirling his tongue over your swollen clit as you moaned obscenely, thanking god and him and his mouth.
“just…yes! fuck! gonna cum!” you babble again, losing all rational thoughts as he continued to lick and rub and finger you. you felt helpless under his touch, but in the best way. the way that made you and the unborn baby inside of you feel safe and cherished, loved even.
he just kept it up, only breaking his licking at your clit to talk you through it, “good girl, pretty little wife gonna cum all over my fingers? huh?” he says with a raspy voice, his lips stained in a gloss of your arousal.
you moan softly in response and nod, your eyes fluttering open and shut, your pussy clenching around his fingers. pulling them out just to push another long inside of you and curl your fingers upwards until he found your magic spot.
you whine at that, smacking a hand down on the sheets underneath you. “there it is…” he muses in a low tone, “good girl, maybe if your really nice i’ll pump another baby into you tomorrow.” he says with a smirk.
you moan, “fuck…yes!” you yell out, the idea of him fucking you and promising to get you even more pregnant…it was making that band inside of you get closer to snapping.
“you’d like that wouldn’t you? filling you up with my big cock and pumping you full of my cum?” he teases as he keeps fucking you with his two fingers, the noise of your arousal would normally be a turn off but you were so close to release that you didn’t care anymore.
you moaned and nodded dumbly in response, his free hand sliding from your hip to rub over the swell of your belly. “pump another baby into you, fuck, you’d love that.” he says lowly.
“i-i would…fuck, want more babies…” you whine softly as you writhe more, some tears leaking out of your eyes. he almost growls at that, pumping his fingers harder inside of you and rubbing that sweet spot that makes you see stars.
he knew you were close, knew you were going to reach that point that made you all blissed out and needy. “cmon baby, come all over my fingers. know you can.” he encouraged with a kiss to your clit, his free hand still rubbing over your belly.
all it took was him talking more, working you up with his sweet words and his fingers hitting the mark over and over again inside of you. you moaned loudly, clenching around his fingers. your release coating all over his digits.
he didn’t say anything, just worked you through it until overstimulation set in, removing his fingers from you. he brought them both up and licked the release from his fingers.
you watched him with undivided attention, your eyes lazily opening and closing in the haze of your orgasm. he smiled softly and crawled from in between your legs to rest over you, pressing a kiss to your lips.
“don’t you ever think for one second that i don’t want to fuck you, taste you or do that. i love you and i love making you fall apart. you being pregnant…has nothing to do with me holding off.” he says in a reassurance, pressing another small kiss to your lips.
being mindful as he leaned over you not to disturb the bump of your belly. your eyes locked on his as he looked down at you, “i’ve just been stressed and on edge with prepping for the baby. it’s had absolutely nothing to do with you being pregnant.” he says softly, reaching a hand up and running it through the hair at the base of your skull.
“your so beautiful, so fucking beautiful. i know you don’t see it these days. but you are even hotter now that your carrying my baby, our baby.” he explains with a gentle smile, making some water prick into your eyes.
“so don’t think for one second that i find you unattractive or that i’m teasing you on purpose.” he says with another small peck to your lips, “you understand me?”
you nod slowly as you look up at him, blinking the small amount of water away from your eyes. you should’ve never doubted him, should’ve never thought that about yourself.
and he hated that, hated that he made you doubt yourself and your body for one second. you were so beautiful, you were his and he loved you. he had loved you long before you both spoke your vows in front of god and each other.
he loved you so much, as much as you loved him. so he rolled off from hovering on top to you, cuddling his body next to yours, letting himself wrap his strong arms around your pregnant body.
he wanted to hold you close to his heart, he always did inside. he always kept you there because that’s where you deserved to be. you were his wife and the mother of his (soon to be) child.
he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, pulling the covers back up over you and him, cuddling you close. his hand rubbing over your belly with the fabric of his own t-shirt covering it. “your so very beautiful, baby. i love you so much. even when you don’t see it.” he says against the side of your head, pressing another kiss there.
you melted into his arms, your eyes fluttering close in exhaustion and in content. you didn’t feel so insecure and anxious anymore. you knew that he had been off, but he was just as stressed as you. he had to be, you were going to be a mom and he was going to be a dad.
it was a lot of pressure.
but as long as you both had each other, you knew you guys could do it. the rings on your hands symbolizing the best and worst parts of you and him, the parts that you accepted and promised to love forever.
and with him, it would never be scary. not if you had a husband like leon, and he would love you just as much as the baby inside of you.
it was a part of both of you, that could never be unloved. not if either of you had anything to say about it.
an: hope you guys enjoy. i couldn’t deny a double upload this week, my bad lol. i love you guys so much and i hope you enjoyed. happy friday!! i’m gonna be opening my requests again soon. i wrote this when i was ovulating so no harsh judgement. please reblog and like, kisses. xx.
taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim @adollrable @leonkennedygvrl (if you wanna be on my taglist interact with the link at the beginning)

#leon kennedy#leon x reader#re2 leon#re4 remake#leon kennedy au#re2 remake#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy fluff#fluff#leon kennedy fic#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy fanfic#leon kennedy re2#re4 leon#leon kennedy x fem reader#re4 leon x reader#pregnancy#husband!leonkennedy#pregnant reader#pregnancy au#leon kennedy smut#leonkennedyimagine
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Modern coryo whos trying to sorta maybe manipulate his gf by being obsessed and then not reading her texts for 3 days but the gf is literally the same so it’ll be like
r: “heyyy” and then a day later he replies “heyaaa” and then it goes on like that for a week until he cracks and sends her 15 messages in the span of 4 minutes
cw: feminization/fem label “gf” but the reader is still only intended to be afab, the ask has she/her pronouns but i don’t use them in the writing, manipulation and toxic behavior, typical coryo/modern!coryo warnings, love bombing, not canon to the main au, black cat reader ish, reader has a shower in their dorm bc i say so 🤫, male masturbation
Now Coryo wouldn’t do this during your relationship, despite his best attempts to play it cool, you make him panic and he’s immediately resorting to rich boy love bombing (trips, those ridiculously expensive boxed roses, 999999999 rounds of oral on his yacht, a summer house, etc.) followed by baby trapping. He’s not stupid enough to try something like that deeper into your relationship, for him it’s about making sure the foundation is as solid as possible and not shaking it up.
This would really only happen before you even start dating, after he’s bumped into you in the dorms enough times to wear you down into giving him your number. He’s still in his “i have to the most mysterious person alive” mindset and he hasn’t quite shed the fuckboy persona yet. He doesn’t seek anybody out or anything, it was love at first sight with you unfortunately, he’ll just imply that that you’re another contact in a long list. (You’re the only one in his favorites 💀)
You’re smart enough to be wary, too involved in academics and proving yourself to go sniffing around Coriolanus Snow. You don’t really talk to a lot of people, and you’re not interested in a swarm of meaningless interactions. You’re just grateful that he stopped calling you so much, learning that you very much prefer texting. He’s the king of the “hey u up?” text, and you have the flattest look on your face as you reply “Yes.” and turn your phone face down. Exchanges like happen over and over.
Does your heart flutter when he insists on walking you to class and pecking your cheek at the door? Yes but you’ll roll your eyes and make a big deal out of wiping it off. Are you intrigued by how much he hauls ass to get you your coffee order whenever he senses that you need it (because he can, he’s like spiderman but lame)? Well, yes, but he must be playing some kind of game with you. Has a cliche bet with his fraternity brothers over your assumed virginity maybe. The more you’re determined to not fall for it, the more you find yourself slipping as the days go by.
Just when you turn your head when he pecks your cheek outside the lecture hall, expecting the gesture more than dreading it, he gives you a blank stare and turns on his heel. You take a second to blink and then shrug, it’s no skin off you back if Coriolanus decides to be normal for once. You definitely do not have a bit of a scowl throughout the entire session. (he nearly lost it when you didn’t react at the lack of a kiss, he kicked the wall and almost broke his foot)
He’s back to the “heyy” texts at random hours, responding to your “Hey.” that came a day later two days after that. He’s screaming into his pillow and pacing his grandma’am’s gardens, glaring at the staff pruning the shrubs. Coryo would rather die than admit defeat though, so he hardens his resolve. You’ll break eventually. You on the other hand are living normally, slurping ramen and working on essays. You’ve learned not get your hopes up over a pipe dream, the idea that someone like him would genuinely care about you being so laughable that you get over it rather quickly. You may be from different economic classes, but a man’s attention is never a necessity. That an he’s far from the only trust fund kid in the world.
A week later, your phone goes off in the middle of the night. You step out of the shower and dry yourself off, walking over to your bed and picking it up. To your surprise, the notification from Coriolanus isn’t another dry message, it’s several videos. They all look dark and fuzzy, ranging from 30 seconds to 10 minutes. In some of the thumbnails you can see flashes of bare skin. You click on the first one and are immediately faces with Coriolanus Snow’s sweaty abs.
You’re frozen as he eventually splatters jizz all over them, the camera work is shaky and the flash exposes too much for your liking. You can see his abdominal muscles twitch in the aftermath of his orgasm. He drags his fingers through his own cum and smears it over the camera, giving you a pov of what it’d be like to have your face covered in it.
Your phone chimes again.
Stalker: turn the sound on for the rest ;) see u at the car wash next friday, babe ❤️
You block him (after you save the videos and check the charge on your vibrator).
#what an apt contact name for him 🤐#modern!coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x you#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus smut#coryo snow#coryo snow x you#coryo snow x reader#⚰️.deaddove#coryo snow smut#coryo x you#coryo x reader#coryo smut#tbosas#tbosas x you#tbosas x reader#the hunger games#the hunger games x you#the hunger games x reader#coriolanus snow fic#coriolanus snow fanfiction#yandere smut#dark fic#tom blyth#college au#male yandere smut#tw toxic behavior
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Hello, in case your requests are without any guidelines, can you a fic like this:
You saved the life of I.N., who was fatally injured in a deal gone wrong, but you're oblivious that he's from SKZ (an underground group known to be dangerous).
Let me know if you have any questions? Thanks for considering!
⭑ “i owe you” ⭑ pt.1
⭑ jeongin x female reader
⭑ content includes: non-idol reader, non-idol jeongin, causal mentions of blood and scars, mentions of other members (bang chan), reader is a doctor
⭑ note: by no means am i a doctor so please correct any of my terminology if its not used correctly.
⭑ minors dni
the red traffic light glowed in the cold, dark night, forbidding you from shutting your eyes. your car's broken clock insisted it was 12:08 AM, though you knew it must be at least 4:08 AM. The familiar alleyway you always surveyed after your dreaded shift was usually populated by drug dealers, homeless souls, and discarded beer cans. tonight, however, a figure crouched there, clutching his right hand and gazing up at the moon...
fortunately a parking spot was open right after the traffic stop and you rush your first aid kit out of the back, pacing to this odd instance. running up to strange man at 4 in the morning wouldn’t be ideal, but you’re a doctor who believes there is good in everyone, and leaving someone hurt is morally wrong. your footsteps slow down as you approach him, eventually stopping to make out his face.
his face was illuminated by the moon he looked up to for hope. his eyes were sharp and dreamy, reminiscent of a fox’s gaze. a fresh scar ran down his left cheek, hinting at a serious injury. you couldn’t make anything else of his condition, but it seemed severe and the only solution would be taking him home to treat him.
“e-excuse me?”
his eyes flickered to the direction of your voice, squinting at your - not too appealing - presence. regardless of his beauty, his tattoos and shredded, soiled clothes lent him an intimidating feel.
“who are you?” his voice couldn’t be described as deep, but rather a large and empty void.
“im y/ln, doctor at the local hospital here. i noticed you looked injured and came to help”
“im fine”
you moved closer to him, shining a small flashlight on his body. the injuries were severe and far from fine. knife wounds, bruises and a split lip covered his body, causing him to lose more blood by the minute.
“im sorry, but i cannot leave you in this condition”
he grunted, his grip tightening on his hand, struggling to give you an audible response.
“just. leave.”
you act quick and throw his limp arm around your shoulder, guiding him slowly to your car. his blood seeped into your shirt, but what worried you more was his life being between your hands.
“fuck! can’t you see it’s an open wound?” your body jumped at his cries, feeling heavier with sympathy for him. you tried your best to disinfect his wounds gently, but the pain would be near intolerable.
“it’s almost over” you whispered to him, too focused to answer him back properly.
he sat on the sofa of your living room, taking in the art works you hung on the wall to distract him from the gruesome pain. every now and then he would flinch or grunt, but it’s nothing you’ve never dealt with before as a doctor.
you near the end of his ‘procedure’ and move to his face, inspecting the deep scar that ran across his cheek and his busted lip. a mix of disappointment and curiosity washed over you, expressed in a long sigh.
“what did you get yourself into?”
“nothing”
“what’s your name?” your questions were an attempt to distract the painful alcohol grazing his cuts, but his hissing and grunting never came to a stop.
“j-jeong in”
you repeat the name to yourself, its familiarity nudging at your head. while preparing the bandages, you couldn’t help but take in his strong facial features. he looks back at you too, eyes outlining every detail of your face. you couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity, so you give it up to him being an old patient but a tattoo on his neck catches your eye, denying your conclusion.
(SKZ)
“SKZ? where have i heard that before?” it sounded like something that may have been in the newspapers they handed out to the doctors offices, or something on the news channel, but the lack of sleep wouldn’t be able to catch onto anything.
“you forced me into your home to fucking question me?!” he screamed at your face, looking at you in disgust. the words caught in your throat and you felt like crying, your thoughts crashing down. today had been stressful enough, and having someone scream at you was the last straw. jeongin notices the beads of tears forming on your waterline, changing his expression in a matter of seconds.
“please, just finish so i can leave” he sighs, turning to face the sunrise that peeked through the curtains. the teardrop falls on your leg and you return to what you should’ve been doing, feeling bad for the unnecessary confrontation you gave him.
a contact named “bang chan” buzzed his phone and he picks it up, placing it up to his ear and squirming at the pain of the alcohol on the scar of his cheek. you attempt to listen to some of the muffles from the other side, hoping you can conclude your suspicions about him.
jeongin- “yea?”
bang chan- “where are you man?”
jeongin- “getting treated by a random doctor in her house”
his eyes dart from his arm to your face, holding your gaze.
bang chan- “are you crazy? we are high profile by the police and you’re at a random doctors house?”
his tone was clearly sterner, but all the noises you could hear faded at the thought of having someone wanted infront of you. your body stiffens but you act clueless, worried of how dangerous he may be.
jeongin- “just… ill be back”
bang chan- “man this isn’t funny at all. you’re getting us in some deep shit”
jeongin- “she looks like she wouldn’t tell a soul”
bang chan- “a doctor? you couldn’t pick a worse person to help you?”
he scans your face for any fear or regret, but you hold back any emotions until he would be out of your house and safe.
bang chan- “god you’re so fucking oblivious. be here before the afternoon”
he laughs at his comment, ending the call.
you put all the equipment back to its place as jeongin sips on a mug of green tea, slouching on the couch. as a doctor you couldn’t let him out too early and he had to be watched for at least a day. but you were worried of his criminal state and if his friend would barge the door of your house open.
“you’ll need to rest. don’t get yourself involved in any of… that”
he nods, getting up to place his mug on the counter and head for the door.
“thank you. really”
you close your eyes, nodding at him and inspecting his bandages one more time.
“i owe you”
and with that, it would’ve been the last encounter with him. many questions ran through your head but it would autopilot to your couch, falling asleep to the memory of his ethereal but odd face.
the alleyway remained significant to you, always looking for him, or for another injured individual. but with the overflowing pressure of becoming a doctor and having no time to yourself, everything would fade away and it would become endless hours of work.
FIVE YEARS LATER
you parkoured between your new neighbors boxes to get to your door,
placing the groceries on the floor and rummaging for your key. your eyes couldn’t help but dart to the many boxes. the apartment next to you is finally occupied after a mysterious 3 years of nobody renting it.
at the collection of that thought, the door of the new neighbors unlocks, startling you. a mans back faced you, his hair orange, wearing a black leather jacket and black jeans. it was only when he turned that your heart may have stopped. his features were unmatched and unique, taking you a while to absorb before greeting him.
“hey! new neighbor?”
he didn’t respond for a while, looking at you with confusion.
“your name?”
“it’s y/n. im a doctor at the local hospital here. what about you?”
“jeongin”
recollections of that very night begin to flow through your mind and how everyday for weeks you stared into the dark alleyways, trying to picture his body there. immediately your eyes dart to his neck, only to find his tattoos slightly fading.
(SKZ)
your eyes dart back to his face, still questioning if it was true or not.
“i owe you”
TO BE CONTINUED
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Here it is! The winner of the reverse trope poll: Accidentially kidnapping a mafia boss! I had a lot of fun writing it and hope you enjoy it as well!
An Accidental Deal
'Think of the puppies and kittens,' you tell yourself sternly. You stand outside of Ramshackle Shelter and try to psych yourself up for this confrontation. Countless affirmations run through your head. You can do this! The question still remains in your head; when they arrive, will you be able to do it?
The news has been tremendously shocking to all the volunteers: Ramshackle Shelter was all but sold to an entrepreneur to build a branch of a popular ocean-themed cafe. You'd heard of Mostro Lounge but never dared go to such a place. Not because the cafe wasn't nice sounding, no, it was due to the owner. It was an open secret among the residents of your city that the sly restaurateur Azul Ashengrotto was, in fact, mafia boss Don Azul. And now that scummy bastard was this close to shutting down your shelter.
You'd protested at city hall to block the zoning (failure), written to the paper to get the community to object (failure) and tried to raise funds to buy the place yourself (failure). Now, you were down to extreme measures only. So, this was it; you were really going to kidnap someone. You pat the pocket of your jacket where you have a cloth soaked in chemicals to knock someone out. Just one small thing stands in your way, abject fear.
Don Azul was terrifying. You'd expected an aura of danger and power, but when you saw the teal-haired gentleman step from the limo and adjust his hat, you realized you'd grossly underestimated him. He looks like he could bite your arm off... and would probably enjoy it. By contrast, the silver-haired fellow who emerges next in plain shirt sleeves seems far more kidnappable. 'Why can't you be Don Azul?' you think sadly. You watch from your alley hiding spot as the formidable Don and his secretary(?) head inside to inspect the building.
You hurriedly cross the street and slip into the side entrance. You had all the access codes from your years of volunteering, so it was easy for you to navigate the halls quietly and arrive behind the little inspection party. The two men were talking, and the secretary was gesturing in a way that made you feel like they were discussing how to set up the space. After they threw you and the animals out. You grit your teeth and scowl silently at the figure of Don Azul and pat your pocket again; he'd get what was coming to him soon enough.
Then, in a moment that takes your breath away, Don Azul looks up and into a mirror on the wall. For a moment, you think you meet his mis-matched eyes. You feel your heartbeat race as you enter panic mode. Then the Don sneezes, which breaks the illusion. You back your way down the hall and into a storeroom. Maybe you couldn't do this after all. There was no way you could face down that man when you couldn't even stand to meet his gaze.
You need a Plan B. Fast. The adrenaline causes you to shake and you rest your shivering form against a wall to think. What can you still do in this moment? You tap your pocket with the cloth, all set up to abduct someone. Well, that's a waste. Or was it? Your mind strays from the intimidating Don Azul to his companion, the secretary. Was a mafia secretary worth anything as a hostage? You consider the possibility that he might know a great deal of Don Azul's secrets. Maybe that was enough to negotiate for them to leave this place alone?
You hear barking from beyond the hall and guess they've opened the door leading to the dog kennels. In this moment you are decided; for the animals, you can do this. You were kidnapping that little secretary of Don Azul’s. The barking intensifies and then fades to a dull drum. You figure they've gone in back and closed the separating door. It's the perfect time for you to get into some sort of position out front for an ambush. You creep into the entrance room and jump back when you nearly bump into Mr. Secretary. He seems as surprised to see you as you are to see him. His light blue eyes flicker to the door where the frightening Don had disappeared.
"Didn't go in with the boss?" you mutter softly. "The boss?" he questions quietly before his eyes return to the door, and he puts it together. "Ah, yes. I'm sensitive to the dirty, ah, I mean, delightful animals." You scowl at him, "They aren't dirty. And they are a lot more charming than you." The mild man gives a shrug of his eyebrows as though to say, ‘If you say so.’ He seems tired as he sighs heavily and gives you a once over. You’d guess he’s done this any number of times while by the Don’s side. He is experienced and appears to have sized you up in one simple glance. “I take it you were affiliated with the location’s prior business?” This rubs you the wrong way and you whisper shout back, “Its not ‘the location,’ its Ramshackle Shelter and I’m not so sure it’s a prior business either! I’ve got some points to talk over with your boss!”
The man gives you a pitying smirk and another sizing glance. You appear to have been found wanting as he replies, “Is that so?” in a condescending tone. You frown hard, both angry and embarrassed at the interaction. “Anyway, it’s not up to you. I’m not here to make deals with some nobody secretary,” you tell him mockingly. His eyes widen for a moment and then you see the visible effort he makes to hold in his laughter. Ok, this has gone on far enough. Plus, you need to make sure you leave before the evil Don returns. You approach him in what you hope is a decent appearance of menace, “You better just come along quietly.” Finally, he appears to take you seriously as you see his chest expand to take in a large breath before a shout. Unfortunately for Mr. Secretary, you prove faster and thrust the cloth from your pocket over his mouth before he can sound the alarm.
It works like a charm and the small man is very easily knocked out. You run to the storage room and drag out a flat-bed cart used to haul animal kennels back and forth between the entry and back. On the cart is a large and empty kennel big enough to hold a great dane, so you figure one skinny secretary will fit pretty well too. Except, passed out mafia secretaries are significantly more difficult to shove in a kennel than a dog. You heave and shove his limp form until you mentally decide he isn’t so small after all. Fortunately, you manage to get him marginally concealed in the kennel and out the back before you hear the barking of dogs that signals the Don’s return. Time to hustle this cart down the back alley and into the waiting warehouse.
After getting your (not so little) secretary back to the warehouse, you look at him laying limp in the kennel and decide that’s a little too cruel for your taste. So, again, you take the effort to haul his limp form from the kennel and get him settled in what appears to be a reasonably comfortable position on a chair. Then you take a seat in another chair to wait for him to regain consciousness. Plus, you need the time to plan. Before, all your ideas had stemmed from having Don Azul as your hostage. Now that you only had his secretary, you were no longer sure how to even let him know that. Can you just call up the mafia and ask to speak to the Don? That…didn’t feel like a real thing.
You were pondering your options when a groan brings your attention to your hostage. You wait for him to open his eyes, place a tentative hand to his head and groggily ask you what happened. “I kidnapped you, of course,” you cockily reply. He holds up his unbound hands in front of him, “Shouldn’t you have at least tied me up then?” You feel your mouth fall open as you look forlornly at the hands held out for you to see. “Are you going to keep gaping like that? I might mistake you for a guppie,” he states in a cold tone. You slam your hand against a crate and shout, “Better watch that language or I’ll have you singing with the fishes!”
He gives you a startled look and then starts to laugh, “Singing? I think you mean sleeping.” Ok, this could be going better, but you can’t back down now! “I said singing! Maybe I want to hear you sing me a little song, beautiful. I’ve got to get the most out of my little captive princess before I turn her back over to her family,” you finish with a mocking leer. The barest hint of ‘beautiful?’ can be heard coming from the secretary’s mouth. You point at him and declare, “You’ve got two options; stay over there and start talking or walk your pretty little self over here and sing me a song. What’s it going to be, Princess?”
The man gives you a look from deep beneath his long lashes and says, “Those are quite the options.” Then he flushes and gives you another one of those sizing up looks. This time, it takes him several minutes to make up his mind, which you suppose is an improvement. Finally, he narrows his eyes in challenge and says, “Very well, if that’s how you’d like it,” and stands. You don’t quite know what to do when he marches over and sits in your lap. Then he looks at you coyly and whispers, “Did you have any requests?” This certainly wasn’t in your plan. You shrug helplessly and finally from the depths of your throat you hear, “Row, Row, Row your Boat?” emerge from your mouth. The corner of his lips curl up momentarily before he schools his expression, “Of course, as you wish.” Then he begins singing.
You feel silly for having requested such a childish song but, to his credit, he gives it a serious effort. And he sings amazingly. You listen attentively and when he finishes, you apologize, “I’d clap but I’m afraid that would knock you from my lap.” He smiles for a moment before replying in a serious tone, “That is an important point to consider. Perhaps you could join me in a verse instead.” Then he runs his thumb along your bottom lip with a coy gaze and breathlessly starts another round of Row, Row, Row your Boat. You feel a bit silly, but it would be rude to refuse after all that, so you timidly join him. When you finish, he smiles, “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” You suddenly remember that he is The Enemy and frown sternly. “Come now,” he chides playfully, “I’m just pointing out that I’m not that difficult to work with, Angelfish.”
“If you lot were so reasonable to work with, then why is my shelter being closed down!” you shout with tears forming in your eyes. You hate this feeling, like you are the vulnerable one when he is the one who is kidnapped. He looks deeply into your wavering eyes and finally sighs, “That place is really important to you, isn’t it?” You look up at him and answer passionately, “Not just for me but for all the animals. They have nowhere else to go. No one to look after them. If we turn them away, what will happen to them?” You can’t stand to look at his sympathetic gaze and turn to look at the floor instead, “Your boss’s café could go anywhere. Why take this from me? From them?”
The man, who you decide is far more gentle than you originally thought, appears to genuinely be considering your argument. For the first time since you met him, you give him one of your friendly smiles, “I know it isn’t your fault. You aren’t the boss.” Then you pat him gently on the back. “Don’t worry about it too much. I’m going to fix this somehow.” His breath catches and he whispers, “You just might at that.” You give him a grateful look, “At least someone has confidence in me. I feel like I’ve done nothing but mess up all day.” The gently man is having none of this, “I don’t know what you mean, Angelfish, you seem to be doing quite well from my perspective.” You laugh and give him a grateful smile, “Well thanks for that. I think I needed some cheering up.”
The kind (you’ve upgraded him to kind) man gives you a small caress on the cheek, “Is there anything I can do to help?” You look deep into his beautiful eyes and remark, “I wouldn’t mind another song.” He brushes a stray hair from your forehead and begins to sing again.
And that is when they find you. An amused chuckle from the door alerts you to his presence and you stop your duet immediately to turn, horrified, to face Don Azul. You fearfully meet the eyes of the lovely man in your lap and stammer, “It..its Don Azul, he found us.” Your statement causes the intimidating man to open his mis-matched eyes wide. Then, he bursts out into an unhinged laugh. Your fear compounds exponentially when you hear another voice emerge from the unguarded back entrance, “What’s so funny? Go ahead, I’m in the mood for a joke.” You turn your head and can’t help but blurt out, “Holy shit, there’s two of them!”
Your companion gives a resigned sigh and stands up, “Jade, Floyd. Come along. We’re leaving now.” You look up at him, entirely overwhelmed. He meets your eye and then smiles sadly, “In case you aren’t quite finished with me yet.” Then he reaches into his breast pocket, retrieves a small case and extracts a business card. He slips it gently into your hand and then walks confidently past the intimidating man (Jade? Floyd?) and out the door. The frightening twins give you amused (and terrifying) smiles as they silently turn and follow him out the door. It is several minutes before you regain your senses enough to turn over the card in your hand. It reads in flowing script: Azul Ashengrotto, CEO of Mostro Lounge.
-Several months later-
You sit at your desk and page through another document. In the background, the sound of barking dogs is almost soothing to your ears. Then, a nervous volunteer practically runs into your office, “Director! Someone is here. I…I think he might mean to tear up the place!” You calmly look up from your desk, “And then serve you tea afterward or burn the place down?” The volunteer looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. A moment later, a fearful comprehension crosses their face as they mutter, “Oh my god, there are two of them!” You nod, so, it’s both.
When the pair of twins saunter into your office, you smile welcomingly, “Jade, Floyd. How nice it is to see you today.” Floyd comes around the desk to drape an arm over your shoulders, “Hey Shrimpy, bossman sent us to pick you up.” You nod agreeably, “That’s right. Its opening night.” Jade places a palm to his chest, “The newest branch of Mostro Lounge will be most delighted to have the Director’s patronage for this special occasion.” You nod and direct them to wait out front as you finish things up back here.
When they leave, the fear struck volunteer questions you, “Who were they? They look like the mafia!” You shrug, “As far as I know, they are just employees of Mostro Lounge. As far as I know.” They give you a look, “Isn’t that the place that nearly shut us down a few months ago?” You grab your long purple jacket and give them a reassuring pat on the shoulder, “Yeah but we’ve come to an agreement since then.” The volunteer gives you a considering look and backs a half-step away, as though suddenly wondering if they’d misjudged the familiar Director of Ramshackle Shelter.
You understand, you’d been there before, so you pay them no mind. Brushing past the volunteer to flick off the light, letting them hide in the darkness of your office. Then you head out and wave to your waiting escort, “Come on boys. I’ve got a date with the princess. Time to make him sing for me.” Your inside joke never fails to amuse them, and they laugh appreciatively. Your relationship was a complicated thing. You weren’t sure who was supposed to be the hero or the villain in the whole story but, you supposed, you didn’t really care. Floyd held the door of the long black limo for you, and you stepped inside. You could ponder the morality of the whole thing later; you had your Princess waiting for you tonight. And, if you were lucky, you’d have Azul sing your song for you again. Ah, life was but a dream.
#twst#twisted wonderland#twst wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#azul ashengrotto#azul x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#reverse tropes
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omg stop that (loser)step dad!steve blurb was so cute u should do one where like reader and steve have a little baby girl and the boys are like "😒😒😒..." but once she's born, she's got them wrapped around her tiny finger LOL like they're completely enamoured by her once they see her
thank you babbyyyy <3 hope you enjoyed this one. it's a bit on the shorter side (well for me), but i'm glad that you enjoyed the first part.
No cw for now, just cuteness. 901 words
She was beautiful. Her tiny fingers pressed to her chest, body curled up in that cute position newborns make, a soft towel wrapped around her as Steve rocked her in his arms. He couldn't take his eyes off of her, wetness dampening his lashes as he whispered to her.
"Hi, babygirl," he smiled, gently running a finger over her head. She had little strands of dark hair there, color mirroring his own. You sat on the hospital bed, exhaustion coursing through your veins, yet a small smile sitting on your lips.
They looked perfect there together, father and daughter. Steve was meant for this, you could tell. In this moment, you felt a similar feeling to your birth with your other two sons, like life made sense.
There was a knock on the door, it creaking open to reveal the nurse, head popping through.
"Harrington?" She smiled, voice low as she took notice of the sleeping baby in your husband's arms. The both of you looked towards her, eyes crinkling with the happy emotions you felt. "I have some people who want to meet the little girl."
She stepped into frame, your sons piling in. Your eldest son had his serious look on his face, lips pressed together as he looked bored. Your youngest was in a similar fashion, trying his hardest to mimic his brother, yet you could see right through the two of them. The nurse left the four (and a half) of you alone, closing the door behind her with a soft shut.
"Hey you guys," you whispered, voice raspy as you reclined. Your eldest looked concerned at you winced, shifting in your bed.
"Ma, you okay?" He said, eyes wide. Nodding, you smiled, opening up your arms as they both came to your side, hugging you. Steve stood watching you, rocking with his body as his eyes kept flitting back on your daughter in his arms.
"You want to meet her?" You asked, smiling as they both nodded. They tried keeping serious expressions, but you could see it in their eyes, they were curious. Your youngest ran over to Steve, peering over him as he caught sight of her. Immediately, he melted, mouth parting open in shock as she made a small noise, face scrunching up.
"She's so small," he whispered, placing a light touch on her blanket-covered body. Steve laughed, nodding in agreement. "Can-can I hold her?"
"Yeah, buddy," Steve said, head nodding over to the chair in the corner of the room. "Just gotta sit down first, and I'll hand her over."
He complied, running over to plop down, arms wide open. Steve placed her in his arms, instructing him on how to hold his arms out. The two of them were beaming, sharing their thoughts on how she looked, your son saying she looked like him if anything. Steve hovered over him, smiling, but you could see that protectiveness already kicking in, his eyes watching like a hawk at every movement your son made.
You drew your gaze away from them, looking at your oldest who stood awkwardly, a few feet away from the bed, gaze stuck on the baby. He kept looking at Steve too, suspicion on his face.
"You want to hold her too, sweetie?" Apprehension covered your voice, not sure how to deal with him when it came to this. It had been a year and a half since you and Steve were married, yet he was still wary of the man he called a 'stranger in 'our' home'. There was nothing you could've done or said that would have made him accept Steve faster, figuring that it would work itself out on its own. It hurt you, but it was your normal now.
"Ah, I think I'm good," he nodded, but still kept his eyes on her. He gasped when his little brother shifted his elbow, her body dipping a little bit. "Watch your elbow--Jesus Christ, man."
He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. You bit back a smile at the outburst, knowing that he was in the same boat as all of you--smitten over this little girl who was not even aware of the world yet, let alone all of you.
"Babe, go hold her," you whispered, nodding your head at him. He looked at you, eyes wide. "It's okay."
Crossing the room, he maneuvered her out of the younger boy's arms, gripping her firmly. She rested against his shoulder, a small cry of a noise leaving her mouth. He looked up at Steve, fear on his face. "Is that--was that normal? Did I hurt her?"
Steve shook his head, leaning into him as he placed a hand on his shoulder. He didn't complain at the touch, the first time that has happened. Hope bubbled at your chest, your boys finally all being connected.
The young boy in the chair kicked his feet, impatience pulling at him. "Okay, you're done! You're taking too long, my turn now!"
"Shut it, I've only held her for, like, 6 seconds!"
"That's not fair! Steve! Tell him!" He cried out, pouting exaggeratedly.
"Boys relax! She'll be here a while, there's plenty of time," Steve laughed, holding his hands out in front of him. They quieted down, eyes returning to rest on her. Your heart felt full, grateful for this little bundle that graced your world, finally bringing your family together.
Masterlist! Inbox and requests are open! <3
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Unwanted: Chapter 27, Unhinged - Pt. 5
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, kidnapping, Carthage.
Word Count: 525
Previously On...: Dimitri called and basically insisted you have to come dance for Hydra at the club. He's not giving you a choice.
A/N: SHE'S BACK, BESTIES!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
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The ride to the club was tense. Dimitiri’s usual kindness toward you was nowhere to be found, and you couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to change his demeanor so suddenly. You just had to hope that Bucky was on his way toward the club at this very second, though he hadn’t answered your text message by the time Dimitri’s timeline for your departure had run out.
When you pulled up to The Wiggle Room, the driver pulled around to the back entrance in the building’s alley. This concerned you, because you knew there were no security cameras on the back door, and there’d be no evidence of you entering the premises.
“Why are we going through the back?” you risked asking Dimitiri. But the man’s visage remained hard and silent. When the car stopped, he got out and moved around to open your door. As you exited, he grabbed your arm, holding it far tighter than was comfortable as he practically dragged you inside.
“Ow,” you moaned. “Dimitiri, you’re hurting me.” He dragged you to the door to Kozlov’s private lounge, throwing it open before tossing you inside.
“Oh, Dimitri apologizes to the little dove,” he simpered, eyes hard. “Perhapz she will have to find zomeone to avenge’r from Dimitiri’s slight, no?” He laughed to himself, cold and mirthless, before slamming the door in your face.
“Dimitri!” you called, “I don’t understand what’s going on! Open the door, please!” You pounded on it in vain as you listened to the sound of the lock engaging from the outside.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. His choice of words could not have been a coincidence. They were spoken too deliberately. Your cover had obviously been blown, but how?
“I think poor old Dimitiri’s cross that you’ve been lying to him about who you really are,” a disgustingly familiar voice cooed from behind you. You turned, not wanting to believe what you knew you would find, but there she was: Jade Carthage, sitting on one of Kozlov’s armchairs, sipping a flute of champagne like she owned the goddamned place.
“Hello, Precious Pocket,” she purred, taking the time to uncross and re-cross her legs. “Did you miss me?” She gently put down her champagne flute. “Pink hair?” she tsked as she eyed you up and down. “Really? You couldn’t look more desperate if you tried.”
“I’ll just have to take your word for it,” you smirked, exuding more confidence that you actually felt in that moment. “You're the expert on looking desperate, after all. Wouldn’t you agree, Carthage?”
“You always did think you were clever,” Jade said, standing up and moving toward you. “But I always knew you were just an insecure, dumb bitch.”
You made a move to activate your distress bangle, but her super soldier reflexes were too quick. Before you could blink, she had you in a chokehold, the pressure she was putting on your carotid arteries having your vision tunneling in seconds. Before you passed out completely, you could make out her voice, as though coming from a great distance.
“Why don’t you have a little rest? You and I are going on a trip.”
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
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{ 155 }
follow you.
jinwoo sung x fem.reader
{ i will follow you way down wherever you may go | i'll follow you way down to your deepest low | i'll always be around wherever life takes you | you know i'll follow you... }
anonymous said: Is it possible to have a scenario with Jinwoo where f.reader is dealing with a co-worker in his 50s at work who makes her uncomfortable by making inappropriate remarks in his conversations with her and never respects her personal space, she isn't scared of him but he makes her anxious and nervous at his sight for 7 months straight...and she doesn't tell Jinwoo until he starts noticing that she spaces out more often lost in her thoughts. (Its a true event that happened to me at my work and I hope you can write a comforting scenario for it😮💨 also eager to see more of protective Jinwoo 😏)
lately, you found yourself dreading the thought of going to work.
you were a young woman who was a regular civilian in this world filled with hunters, gates, and monsters. ever since these strange gates began to appear all across the world, thousands of people awakened with this unique ability to combat against these threats-
your boyfriend being one of these well known hunters.
however, you were not one of those special humans that had awakened with these abilities.
which was why you worked a regular office job in the midst of the city. and your job was by no means too difficult-
however, there was just one tiny issue with your workplace-
and that came in the form of your highly persistent coworker.
he was a balding man that appeared to be in his mid-50s named ryung. the moment your assigned cubicle was directly next to him, the man made it his life's mission to constantly flirt with you. in between breaks, he would find you and proceed to talk to you, all while placing lingering touches against your arm or shoulder.
"you're so beautiful, hehe."
"you say you have a boyfriend, but i don't believe he's serious about you. hell, if i were 30 years younger, i would have snatched you up and put a ring on that pretty little finger of yours!"
"damn, your ass looks fine in that skirt..."
hearing such constant remarks was enough to make you shudder.
despite the many times you told him you had a boyfriend (that also worked as a powerful hunter!), the man refused to back off. and the fact that this had been going on for nearly 7 months now made it so much worse for you.
now, you were filled with anxiety when ryung casually saunters up to your cubicle. even during the times where you purposely ignored him, the man would simply proceed to linger outside of your cubicle, forcing you to listen to his heavy breathing and crazed mutterings, only walking away when the sounds of your other coworkers approaching forces him to make his retreat.
you thought about turning in your letter of resignation several times, but always decided against it, since this was a good job that paid well-
and you didn't want your boyfriend to do all the heavy lifting when it came to your shared finances.
being so caught up with your thoughts, you couldn't even touch the breakfast your boyfriend had made for you, making him frown in response. he calls out your name several times, but you remain completely unresponsive to him.
"sarang." he calls out your nickname while brushing the ice cold glass of orange juice against your cheek. the sudden, icy sensation felt against your skin successfully manages to break you out of your thoughts, forcing to face your boyfriend's concerned gaze.
"jinwoo... what is it?"
jinwoo sighs before running a hand through his hair, placing the glass of orange juice back on the table. "i was asking you if you were okay for several minutes now, and you just recently responded to me. is something bothering you? i noticed that you haven't been yourself lately... ever since you started your job at that company."
you shift around uncomfortably in your seat, feeling as though you were being interrogated by jinwoo.
"it's nothing, jin. just-"
"bullshit it's nothing."
jinwoo then casually sits back in his seat with his arms crossed, his voice coming out as strained as he was clearly trying to control his anger.
"has ryung been bothering you again?"
your mouth goes dry, meeting jinwoo's gaze with wide eyes.
"h-how did you know about that?"
a smirk paints his handsome features. "have you forgotten just who your lover is?"
ah, that's right... he was the shadow monarch. he probably placed a bunch of his soldiers within your shadow and saw what was going on through their eyes.
"i could always have bellion rip through him for you?" jinwoo asks you while letting out a series of rich chuckles, but you were only half-certain that he was simply joking.
"n-no, you don't need to go that far. ryung is harmless... but a nuisance."
jinwoo hums before gesturing at your plate of breakfast. "come on, go ahead and finish eating. i'm going to take you to work."
"oh, you don't need to, jinwoo-"
"sarang, please, i insist."
with his voice dripping with a saccharine sweetness, you could no longer deny him. letting out a sigh, you give him a nod before returning your attention back to the delicious breakfast jinwoo had prepared for you.
you spend the next thirty minutes making small talk with your boyfriend, setting up plans for the upcoming weekend while being filled with an eagerness for the end of the week. once you finished eating and jinwoo had washed all the plates did he grab his keys. smoothing out your blouse and skirt, you grab your own briefcase while walking out the door with jinwoo.
throughout the whole drive to your workplace, jinwoo holds on to your hand while keeping his other hand on the steering wheel. during every stop light, he brings the back of your hand up against his lips, giving it a sweet kiss while basking in your joyful giggles.
soon enough, jinwoo arrives and parks in front of your office building, unbuckling his seat belt before heading out to open the door for you. seeing him smiling down at you, you give him his hand and allow him to walk with you into the building.
upon entering your workplace, several people recognized jinwoo and immediately greet him (all while trying to hold back their awe). your boyfriend keeps his hand on yours, simply returning their greetings with a smile before escorting you to the elevators.
the ride to the twentieth floor was filled with eager giggles and soft kisses, and you quickly felt your anxieties melt away. a few seconds later, the elevator doors slide open as you and jinwoo walked into the floor where you usually worked.
but instead of allowing you to enter your cubicle, he places a hand behind your back, leading you directly towards ryung's office space.
as if sensing you, the older man looks away from his computer screen, raspy voice calling out your name in an almost possessive manner when he faces you-
only to let out a desperate gasp when jinwoo uses his powers to lift ryung off the ground.
"ack!"
"jinwoo!"
but jinwoo ignores your sudden cries of his name, eyes glowing a bright purple hue as he continues to lift ryung mid-air with his telekinesis. choked sounds were heard coming from the man, and your mind was spinning, becoming filled with a sudden panic-
you didn't want jinwoo to get in trouble because of this man!
"if you continue to flirt with my lover so shamelessly like that ever again, i'll kill you."
within seconds, jinwoo releases his invisible grip on ryung, causing the older man to land on his knees for him. he was coughing, with tears filling his vision as the fear was evident in his eyes. completely ignoring ryung, jinwoo turns his attention back to you all while giving you a sweet smile.
"come, i'll take you back to your cubicle, sarang."
you give jinwoo an exasperated sigh, running your hips against his all while whispering to him, "you're insane, using your powers on him like that...?!"
"so what? i put the fear of the shadow monarch into him. there's no way he would dare to flirt with you now."
as if on cue, you hear ryung let out a whimper while pretending to type something on his computer. you shake your head at jinwoo, but still accept his kiss when he leans down toward you.
only after he was satisfied with your kiss did jinwoo pull away from you. "call me when you're done with your shift, and i'll pick you up."
you give him one last nod, watching as jinwoo leaves your office before deciding to login to your own computer, ready to start your day with a confident smile on your face, secretly grateful for jinwoo's intervention as you were certain ryung would leave you alone now.
{ ... }
the next morning, when you came into work and saw that ryung's cubicle was completely emptied of his belongings, confirming your coworker's mention of his sudden resignation-
that was when you let out a relieved sigh while giggling slightly.
perhaps you would need to treat jinwoo to something nice after all.
a.n. - hhhhh more double updates because i love jinwoo soooo much! 😭
all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.
#sung jinwoo x reader#jinwoo sung x reader#sung jinwoo x you#jinwoo sung x you#solo leveling x reader
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Grocery Shopping with König [539 word drabble]
No warnings, food talk, König is a goof.
Grocery shopping with König is a nightmare.
The old adage of “Don’t shop hungry” is impossible, the man is never not hungry.
He’s also a frugal bastard.
Your freezer is always filled with marked-down food that had to be frozen lest they spoil. You swear there’s been a whole rotisserie chicken just stuffed at the back of the freezer for over a year.
“But Biene, it’ll just go to waste.”
“But it’s such a good deal! Fifty pence off!”
“Why not, we could make something interesting with… pickled onions and mini frankfurters! I can make you Fleishsalat!”
And so on.
Today, you’re sneaking off to the store on your own. You’re on the last dregs of your paycheck for the month and you need to just get the essentials. No more, no less.
“Where are you off, Beine?” You hear him call from the bedroom, it’s early, and you had hoped he would sleep in. He usually does after a long deployment like the one he’s just been on.
“Just popping to the shops, go back to bed,” you insist, already shouldering on your coat, desperately wishing you’d just lied and claimed you were going for a jog.
“Ah bitte, let me come with,” you hear him bumbling around in your bedroom and groan. You know you can’t literally run away from him… Or can you?
You seriously consider it for a moment, but give up on the idea as your giant boyfriend trots like an excited puppy up to you. He’s dishevelled and wearing odd socks, but you can’t help but smirk at how handsome he looks.
“Ok, but if you’re coming with me,” you start, squaring up to him with a best a no-nonsense look you can muster on your face, “We have to stick to the list, no deviations, no bargains, just the…” you quickly count the number of items on the list, “twenty-four things I have written down, are we clear?”
“Javol, of course Biene, in and out, no distractions,” he holds his hand over his heart as if undertaking a solemn vow and you roll your eyes.
“I’m going to regret this aren’t I?” You mutter, almost to yourself as you usher him out of the door.
“You offend me, liebling, I’m a man of my word.”
Two hours later you’re back home with double the amount of items your list. Handfuls of food stuffs to be frozen immediately, some junk from the World Foods aisle, and a bouquet of roses that Kö grabbed when you weren’t looking.
At least he paid for everything, which meant you weren’t feeling the financial strain quite so hard this month.
“I’m sorry Biene,” he whispers against your temple as he wraps his arms around you from behind as you try and play freezer-Tetris to fit the new wave of bargains in the cramped space, “I’ll buy you a bigger freezer.”
You almost snap at him that isn’t the problem, not by a long shot, but at the end of the day, Kö’s little quirks like this are just part of who he is.
And in the grand scheme of things, it’s such a small thing to worry about.
Because you love the big oaf.
No matter what.
CoD Masterlist
Grocery Shopping with Gaz
Grocery Shopping with Ghost
Grocery Shopping with Soap
Grocery Shopping with Price
#konig cod#konig x reader#konig call of duty#konig x you#konig x y/n#konig smut#könig x reader#könig cod#konig mw2#könig call of duty#call of duty x you#call of duty x reader#cod x reader#konig fluff#cod mw2#konig imagine#call of duty fluff#cod fluff#cod x you#141 fluff series#CoD Grocery Shopping Drabbles
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Rambling about Raphael again: I’m getting more and more convinced that stealing from Raphael is an asshole move no matter what.
I just killed Raphael for the first time yesterday. I had gotten the scene where he comes home before but that was way back in my first playthrough and I chickened out back then. The battle itself was awesome, don’t get me wrong but it felt…unsatisfying? Sad even.
I’m obviously not excusing anything he’s done to Hope, but we don’t really know anything about Hope before we have already taken the decision to go to his house.
I found something in the House of Hope that I hadn’t seen before (it’s on the ground in the main area where the fireplace is iirc):
Like yeah, we know that we don’t really need the Orphic Hammer if we’ve played the game before and all that. But does Raphael? It seems like he genuinely thinks it’s a fair trade. Dude lives in the Hells. I’m sure he really does expect the worst from people (especially someone like the Emperor). So he offers us a deal that he really believes is fair, and what do we do? We go robbing his house, fucks/kills his incubus, meddles in his business and essentially spits him in the face. Bonus asshole points if the last thing you ever say to him is that he’s a shit at sex.
Raphael is evil, no doubt, but he hasn’t really done anything to us. If you don’t take the deal, he simply leaves you alone (unless you refuse the Emperor in the end…in which he essentially calls you a dumbass but still helps if I remember correctly) even though that deal is the closest he’s been to the crown in millennia.
Which brings me to his reaction. Obviously, he seems angry right before the fight, but mostly I got the feeling of a man who has been utterly humiliated. His quote that went along the lines of: “Take away their free will and they’ll call you a tyrant. Let them indulge in it and they become tyrants” is kind of stuck with me. I think that Raphael could have potentially treated us a lot worse if he wanted to, but he chose not to (obviously that’s also to get us to trust him, but still). Which is why it stings even more when we fuck him over.
Think about his diary entries. The man has nightmares about us besting him. Imagine how stupid he must feel when that fear turns out to be true and that he shouldn’t have trusted us to keep our word.
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I adore you, I swear.
🍃! Plug! Miguel O'Hara x reader !🍃
A/n: I got an ask about a plug Miguel x reader but my laptop crashed and I lost the ask. I'm so sorry stinky butt but here it is 🤞🙁, but dw this is only part one the next part is smut🙏. btw credits to JesGreenEight on Deviant art for the banner! ngl it might be short.
cw: miggy fw's u heavily 😼, reader's kinda like shy when they around him, weed, a cheesy porn plot boo me all y'all want!!
You needed to get some weed from none other than your dealer Miguel O'Hara. There was no problem having a favorite client but you were different. With your timid voice and shy actions, you had him swooning. Lately having alone time has been pretty tough on you and you needed a release, the sad thing was, you didn't have any money. You thought to yourself,
“how can I even buy weed if I barely have any money”
you pick up your phone and you start to text your dealer.
Y/n: hii do you still have any left? :((
He immediately texts back. Before you can even close your phone. He was into you but can you even realize that he wants you? His favorite client.
Secret Spidey: So needy for weed? Come to the same spot. I’ll be there in 20.
You rushed to change. Even if you were in a hurry you didn’t wanna look bad at least. You quickly noticed what was the point. It’ll be quick. you put on a jacket as you walk out of your apartment. You walk to your destination, the back of an abandoned corner store. Usually, you two would meet in his car but since it’s under repair he used his motorcycle to meet you. He doesn’t treat you like other clients, He even offers to smoke in his car with you. If you were some other client he would’ve given you only just weed and a cold glare with it. As he walks up to you you both realize how he was much taller than you and most definitely towering over you.
“Hey, Miguel..”
you say with a bit of a grin.
“Oh bunny, what's up, you told me you needed some right?
“Bunny? Where in the hell did this nickname come from?” Your thoughts cloud your head as you think about all of this, how close he was to you, the cute nicknames, how his eyes practically show hearts in them when they look at you.
he puts his hand on your back and smiles as he does you start shaking slightly from a cold breeze hitting the back of your neck. you were gonna ask a stupid question and you knew he would get a bit pissy.
“Miguel.. uhm..I was wondering if you can give me..some for free..you don’t have to it's just-“ you say ranting, hoping for him to at least hear you out on why you want the free deal. He cuts you off with a sudden deep sigh. He looks you in your eyes and in reaction, you put your head down immediately.
“Aren’t you just the cutest huh?” He says with a faint chuckle before disappearing. Before you can even get a single word in, you open your mouth and something comes out but yet again he cuts you off.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head yea? I’ll get you some weed, I just need you to do something for me..” your eyes light up with interest then he smiles at your eagerness. He always had eyes for you and you were just his type.
“Okay I can help but how so?” you asked biting your lip. you pray that he would say something back that you would like. It sounded like a cheesy porno but honestly, he was attractive and so were you. You have known this man for years so what’s the harm in that? you guys are just two people wanting to have a release and maybe more. Who knows?
this was my old taglist but here you go pookies ♥: @moon-rivr @monstera02 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @chiwhorei
#x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara#atsv miguel#miguel spiderverse#Plug!Miguel#tw: weed#yournextbimbogf writes#hislastbimbogf writes#cheesy plot go crazy#spiderman#miguel ohara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel atsv#spiderman 2099#spider man: across the spider verse#part 1#tumblr fyp#fypシ#explorepage#foryopage
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According to the spectagoggles, there are currently 13 Daves scattered around the incipisphere, including Davesprite. That is an absolutely preposterous amount of Daves.
Interesting that you're picking up two Dream Daves. I'd assumed that all his time-travelling duties would be handled by his realself - especially since Dream Dave is missing his sylladex, and therefore his time machines.
You're also picking up Davesprite, which would have convinced me he was still alive if you weren't also picking up Doomed Dave's corpse.
At least there's only one Dave corpse in play. Small mercies.
Hang on…
The Davecount suddenly dropped from 13 to 12. Maybe one of them time traveled away? You hope it doesn't mean what you think it…
Wait, he only died now? I thought he was already dead in the previous image.
Ah, I see what happened - I mistook the section of Quest Bed that Doomed Dave was sleeping on for a pool of blood. He was alive before, which means the spectagoggles don't detect the dead.
But they did detect Davesprite.
You hear that? That's the sound of hope filling my heart.
GG: dave i just saw you, and you were dead! […]
TG: […] dont worry it was just a doomed dave no big deal really […]
GG: what about your… […]
GG: oh no i dont even know if you know about this […]
TG: my bro
TG: yeah jack killed him too […]
GG: is it something you would like to talk about
TG: not much to talk about
TG: this is some pretty serious existence threatening shit going down and some people are going to die i guess
Dave's reaction is cold, but completely understandable. Bro was by far the least parental of any of the Guardians, treating Dave more like an apprentice to be violently trained than a child to be raised.
He probably doesn't know what he feels about his brother's death - and even if he did, he'd hide it behind his shades, as usual.
GG: you were pretty close with him right?
TG: meh it was a pretty bizarre relationship by any standard
TG: fightin off wave after wave of face pumicing puppet ass every day
TG: always being on guard for stealth attacks in the middle of the night while getting up to go to the fucking bathroom
I also wouldn't be surprised if his feelings were closer to relief than grief. After all, Bro's death is a guarantee that he'll never have to deal with the man's puppet ninja horseshit ever again.
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Vanishing Act ~ HHJ
⤜WORD COUNT: 1.7K
⤜GENRE: Established relationship, mafia romance, mafia boyfriend! NON IDOL, Arguing couple, fighting, making up, cry baby reader, angst with a fluffy ending
⤜PAIRING: Hyunjin!Mafia x Fem!Reader
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - April 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
A/N: I lost the original screenshot! But I remembered cry baby reader so I hope this is okay!
Hyunjin paced back and forth in the dimly lit office he'd spent most of the day in, his mind plagued with worry. You had vanished without a trace earlier in the day. You hadn't answered his calls or messages, and he couldn't shake off the feeling of dread that gnawed at him. In their world, disappearing like that wasn't just unusual; it was dangerous. His anxiety only grew in his chest the more he thought about what could have happened to you.
"Did you find her?" He growled out at your personal guard who had managed to lose you this morning. He'd hired Mark because he was supposed to be the best of the best, an ex-military man who was also a private investigator and you'd managed to get out of his sights.
"No," The man gulped, looking around at the office and back at Hyunjin who looked as though he was about ready to throw up at the thought of something happening to you. Being who he was in this world meant anyone close to him had a giant target on their back and you were the closest person to him in the whole world.
As the hours stretched on, Hyunjin's anxiety mounted higher and higher as he thought about everything. He imagined all sorts of scenarios - rival gangs, undercover cops, or some personal vendetta targeting you. He couldn't afford to lose you. You were his anchor, his solace in the tumultuous world they inhabited, you were everything to him and the thought of losing you was tearing him up inside.
Finally, as the evening descended into darkness, Hyunjin made his way home ready to find someone else to try and find you but when he walked through the door he couldn't believe his eyes.
You were sitting calmly on the couch, engrossed in a book, and his anger flared. No one had been able to find you and you'd just been sat there all day?
"Where the hell have you been?" he barked, his voice echoing off the walls. You jumped, dropping your book onto your lap and staring up at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion spread across your face.
"Hyunjin, I was just out for a walk. I needed some time alone." You breathed out, you assumed he was referring to you being gone most of the day. You just needed some time away from everything to relax and clear your mind.
Something you used to do a lot before the two of you had moved in together, something you didn't think was that big a deal, especially since you'd stuck to the gardens of his mansion and just spent most of the days in there. The place he had once told you was the safest place in the country.
"Alone?" Hyunjin's voice rose, his frustration bubbling over as he stared at you, how could you not be taking this as seriously as he was? Did you find this all funny?
"You think you can just disappear like that? Do you have any idea how worried I was? Do you know many enemies we have out there that would love to get their hands on you!?" His voice bounced off the walls and you stood up, wanting to get away from his wrath since you knew he would go on a tangent for a while.
"Hyunjin-" He cut you off by shaking his head at you and scoffing loudly,
"Don't Hyunjin me! You know how worried I get when you disappear on me without a word!" He yelled, his anger finally getting the better of him as he lashed out at you, knowing deep down that it was wrong for him to do so.
"What if someone had gotten to you? Huh? Kidnapped you?!" You stared down at the floor, feeling the tears starting to rush into your eyes as you did your best to stop it from happening.
You were so insecure whenever it came to crying in front of anybody but especially someone that you were getting into an argument with. You hated that whenever someone was yelling at you your body's response was to cry, it was the same thing that happened whenever you were angry the tears would just stream down your cheeks. Hyunjin's anger surged as he saw tears rolling down your face, your shoulders trembling with silent sobs but instead of softening, his words only turned harsher, cutting through you like a knife.
"Stop crying!" He barks at you, his voice laced with venom and impatience.
"Is that all you know how to do? Acting like a damn crybaby whenever someone yells at you?!" You flinched at his words, your head shooting up and finding his eyes on you as you stared back at him. your tears flowing more freely now, your silent sobs turning into choked gasps as he turned your insecurity back on you. Something you'd never thought Hyunjin, of all people, would do to you.
You struggled to compose yourself, wiping your cheeks with trembling hands, but the tears refused to stop flowing. Hyunjin's heart clenched at the sight, a pang of guilt piercing through his anger and allowing him to see how much he had hurt you.
He knew just how insecure you were about it, how you saw it as a sign of weakness but his frustration had gotten the better of him and now he'd only added to your pain,
"Yn, I..." He began, his voice faltering as he reached out to you, but you recoiled, your eyes filled with hurt and betrayal.
"Don't," You whispered, your voice barely coming out, you couldn't believe that he would do this to you.
"Just...Don't," You choked out, walking away from him as he called for you to go back to him but you couldn't. Right now you didn't want to be near him or face him after what he had said to you.
After an hour or so Hyunjin decided to venture up to your shared bedroom, his anger had completely vanished the second he realised how hurt you were but he'd wanted to give you some time alone before he came up to your room. Entering the room, he found you curled up on your bed, your shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
The sight tore at his soul, a painful reminder that he had been the one to cause all of this.
"yn," He whispered as he approached you cautiously, his footsteps hesitant as he sat down beside you.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," His voice was barely audible over the sound of your tears. You flinched at his words but you didn't push him away. Instead, you turned over to face him, your eyes red-rimmed and filled with sorrow.
"You always say that." You murmur, "But it doesn't change anything." Hyunjin felt a stab in his chest, he knew he messed up and he knew that mere apologies wouldn't be enough to mend the damage he had created. He reached out to you, his hand shaking as he wiped away tears from your cheek.
"I know," He admitted, his voice heavy with regret, "But please, Yn, give me a chance to make it up to you. I'll do anything, I swear," He begged. He wasn't below begging you, he would do anything for you, take a bullet, run in front of a car, anything for you.
"What could you even do to make this up to me?" You mumbled, your voice tinged with scepticism and he moved to sit beside you on the bed, looking at you as he sighed softly.
"I had a whole evening planned you know, I was going to take you out to dinner...wine and dine you," He smiled weakly as you stared at him,
"When you weren't here I freaked out, I got scared that something had happened to you and I let my anger get the better of me," He admits as he looks down at your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours and squeezing softly.
"You disappeared all day without a word...I was worried." He admits to you, not trying to get into another argument but just wanting you to understand his side of all of this.
"The thought of anything happening to you kills me inside." He whispered and you stared at him,
"I wasn't in any danger, I was in the gardens most of the day...I just took some time alone," Your voice had a tinge of frustration but you cuddled into your boyfriend's arms.
"You can't just wander off without a word, in this world, I need to know where you are." He pleaded with you, his eyes finding yours as you bite down on your lip and nod at him.
"I worry because I love you. I can't bear the thought of losing you." He whispers as you kiss his cheek softly,
"I love you too," You whisper back to him as his eyes start to fill with tears.
"I...I just can't lose you, Yn. Not now, not ever," He whispers as tears start to fall down his cheeks, your arms wrapping around him and cuddling closer to him. Your chest hitting something hard in his pocket,
"What-" Your laugh cut you off as you felt the box inside of his pocket.
"Oh," He groans pulling the box out from his jacket pocket and holding out the small velvet box. It was something he'd been planning to give to you at dinner that night before all of this had happened.
Slowly he opened the box and revealed a delicate diamond necklace.
"I got this for you, I wanted to give it to you tonight, but I messed everything up," He laughed softly as you traced your fingers over the intricate design.
"Let me make it up to you. Let me show you how much you mean to me," He begged, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears before you nodded slowly, a small smile playing on your lips.
"Okay," You whispered, kissing him softly as he carefully put the necklace around your neck and made sure it was perfectly sitting on your skin.
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