#this man has been plaguing my mind for weeks on end now!
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In the Blink of an Eye | Bucky Barnes (Mafia AU)
mafia!bucky barnes x f!reader ✧ oneshot
Summary: With Bucky Barnes, the mafia lord of New York, as your boyfriend, you're usually safe from any and all harm. With a date night gone wrong and your boyfriend distracted, though, anything can happen in the blink of an eye.
A/N: Another one of my favorites because come on, who doesn't love mob Bucky? If you couldn't tell by now, angst is my thing lol, but I'm working on some fluffier oneshots! True to my word, this one's a reader insert for all you lovelies, enjoy and as always keep dreaming 🤍
Warnings: mafia!Bucky, violence, angst, kidnapping, drugging, language, mentions of torture, fluffy ending because I just can't help myself.
Word Count: 5,896
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I knew the dangers when I started. I knew the risks. I welcomed them, I embraced them. They did not scare me and they haven't even now, so many months later.
We always seem to think we know ourselves so well, that we know what we'd do in every situation. I thought I knew.
Then I fell in love.
When you're in love, well, everything changes. For the first time, there's another person that you cannot live without. For the first time, you begin to realize just how far you'd go to keep that love, to strengthen it. I used to avoid love, used to think it was worthless.
Then I met Bucky Barnes, Wolf of the North and mafia lord of New York, and I fell harder than I ever have before.
I love him more than anything else in my life, and so I took on the risks willingly. When you love someone that deeply, that ardently, nothing is a risk. Besides, I knew that he would do everything in his power to protect me. Bucky would never let anything bad happen to me.
That's where I went wrong. Not in overestimating him, but underrating what can happen in the blink of an eye.
"Bucky, I think that guy's following us"
He acts as though he's heard me, but his eyes are glued to the phone in his hand as we weave through the crowds in the New York night. He never usually ignores me like this, and even though I'm growing annoyed, I'm hurt by his lack of attention too.
"We'll be fine, even if he is he wouldn't be stupid enough to try anything" Bucky brushes off, not even looking up from his phone. I let out a small huff as we approach the front of the bar and nightclub he owns.
Before we make it to the doors, I grab his well-muscled arm and gently tug him to face me. He looks up now, his usually softened ice blue eyes plagued with business and stress.
"I thought tonight was just for us, my love" I remind. Something softens in his gaze but he ices it down and doesn't as much as touch me.
"It is, but I have some business to attend to first" his gravelly voice replies.
"Business?" I ask, lifting an eyebrow and smiling softly at him, "You can get business any night, but I-"
"Just give me ten minutes, Y/N." my boyfriend interrupts, and if it were any other day I'd say something back. Too exhausted from work to want an argument, though, I simply sigh and decide to show him patience.
"Alright, you have 10 minutes."
We walk inside, but before we do I cast one more glance back towards the man who I saw following us. My heart hits the floor when my eyes connect directly with his across the street. His mousy brown hair and disheveled brown leather jacket and white shirt set me on edge, so I quickly turn around and follow Bucky into his club.
As soon as I'm back by his side, he presses a gentle but burning hand to my back, his touch, however small, still intoxicating me after all this time. Normally, he'd lean over and whisper sweet nothings or promises of love in my ear and I'd shiver at the whisper of his voice so near, but now he barely even touches me. His mind is so preoccupied with work, I know that, but it has been all week since this weekend is his rival's gala.
But I feel ignored and unappreciated and it's killing me.
The pounding music of the club wraps around me, making it harder to keep my thoughts straight. Bucky and I walk straight to the back of the club, where his business no doubt waits. He pulls away from me without so much as a goodbye, and my heart tugs. Quickly I grab his hand, making him glance at me.
"Bucky, this guy is really freaking me out," I repeat, and I know he said I'll be fine but I need him to be here with me, "Please, stay with me."
"Doll, you're gonna be fine. Now-"
I cut him off, getting frustrated.
"No Bucky! I can fight, sure, but if he-" I interrupt, only for him to cut me right back off.
"Drop it, Y/N. Just go to the bar or something" Bucky growls, pulling out of my grip and walking into the office without a single glance back at me.
My heart cracks.
He's never like this, ever. He's usually so protective it's overbearing, and yet the one time I need that to feel secure, he refuses. I can take care of myself, but I'm not stupid. And no matter how capable and independent I may be, Bucky brings a level of safety to me that I can't describe.
And yet here he is, leaving me alone in his bar with someone following us.
I huff out a sigh and try not to look too forlorn as I traipse over to the bar. Almost as soon as I've arrived and sat at an open bar stool, the bartender who has become somewhat of a friend over the last few months approaches me.
"And how is my favorite customer?" He asks, his hands busy preparing a drink. I shrug, offering him a soft smile.
"I'm alright, Lee," I respond, playing with the edge of my sleeve, "Just a whiskey please."
"Sure thing, Y/N," Lee says, his brows furrowed as he steps away to make my drink. When the glass slides in front of me, I grab onto it with tired fingers.
"So, do you want me to ask what's really going on or do you want me to believe the lie?" The bartender asks, making me raise my gaze from the amber liquid and to my friend's face. He must see the tears gathering in my eyes because a hint of concern grows. I never break like this.
"Believe the lie, please" I nearly whisper, desperate to not have this conversation right now. Lee stares at me for a second longer before nodding.
"Let me know if you need anything else."
When he walks away to take care of another customer, I'm left feeling alone and forgotten in my boyfriend's bar. I sip on the alcohol and seconds turn to minutes, and ten minutes soon becomes twenty. I feel patience slipping and am seconds away from barging into that room and giving my boyfriend a piece of my mind when another voice pipes up beside me.
"I thought tonight was date night," The voice says, and I can't put a face to it. When I turn, the haze of alcohol clears instantly and my spine snaps straight. The music dulls into a hum. The lights grow darker. The color leeches from my body. My hand trembles around the almost empty glass.
It's him. He's got the same messy hair, the same brown jacket. The same hungry eyes.
Instantly, I clamp down hard on my rising panic. I refuse to fall into hysterics of any kind right now. This is the safest place for me to be right now, so I should have nothing to worry about. Instead, I simply shake my head and turn forward, downing the last of my second whiskey.
"You're another kind of stupid if you think anything is going to happen to me in here," I inform, my tone even and calm despite the throbbing, tearing panic within me that makes me want to sprint for Bucky.
"Oh sweetheart, I'm not going to do anything," the man responds, his tone just as even as mine.
I furrow my brows at the ease of his response, but all at once it hits me. My head begins to spin and with each second that passes, my mind begins to fog. No. No. No.
He drugged me.
How did he get it into my drink?
How did I not see it? Smell it? Taste it?
I shove out of my chair so fast that the stool screeches against the hard floor. The sound is absorbed into the mass of the club, though, and an arm snakes around my waist.
"No," I manage out, but the connection between my body and brain seems to be almost severed. The words come out sluggish and far away and when I try to pull from the stalker's hold, my body barely moves.
Instead, I'm left stumbling like I'm drunk with this man guiding me towards the exit as if he's helping me to a cab. The bouncers. Ed and Damien, they won't let him take me. They'll stop him, they'll get him away from me.
"Don't make a scene, Y/N. Your boyfriend isn't even out of his office." My kidnapper's voice slithers into my ear, making my stomach church with nausea.
My boyfriend. Bucky. Oh God, where is Bucky? Why can't I seem to remember where Bucky went? Why he's not here? Why I was alone?
"Bucky, Bucky's gonna-" I slur out, sounding absolutely wasted to the unknowing ear.
"I know, Mr. Barnes going to be so glad I got you home safely," he says suddenly, his entire body shifting tone. I furrow my brows and manage to look and see us just passing Ed and Damien at the door. Even though I can really see straight, I see the two bouncers block the exit when they see me.
"Hey man, what's going on?" I hear Ed ask.
"Nothing much to see, Boss just wanted me to take his lady home," the stalker says, his grip on me tighter than it must appear, "She had a little too much to drink."
Too much to drink? Did I? Why can't I remember what's happening? I didn't think I did but...but maybe I did. Who is this man? He said he's taking me home, maybe Bucky had to cancel date night. It was date night, right?
Both Ed and Damien furrow their brows and look to me, immediate concern drawing on their features when they see the state of me. Some lucid part of me screams to alert them of something, anything, but the thought doesn't come to fruition. It dies somewhere along a neuron and leaves me tripping over my own feet and speechless.
"I've never seen you before, man. How do we know that boss told you to take her home?" Damien asks. My escort doesn't miss a step.
"The Wolf is in states nowadays, isn't he boys?" The stalker replies, and that lucid part sparks up again in protest at the familiar words. That's the code phrase to ensure safety in moments like this.
He knows the code phrase.
They're going to let him take me.
I do what I can to struggle as Ed and Damien step aside, but it only comes across as trying to walk on my own, because the bouncers chuckle slightly.
"Relax Y/N, don't overdo it" Ed quips.
"Rest up, miss. I'll let boss know you got home safely." Damien follows up.
And the lucid part of me fades into the drug haze as my kidnapper guides me out of the safest place on earth without so much of a gun fight. The cool night air slaps me in the face and I whisper, trying to struggle again only to forget why I'm struggling in the first place. My body feels like I'm running through neck-high mud, anyways. Any sharp movements I try to make end in my hands barely moving.
"Bucky," I breathe, an urgency in that word. Beyond the haze and the forgetfulness and the confusion, there's a deep and piercing need to scream out that name. I can't figure out why, but I need him. I can't...I need...
My head's spinning, or maybe it's the world. My stomach is twisting and turning and twisting and turning and tw-
"He can't save you now. He didn't even put up a fight to protect you," that ugly, slimy voice says as a car door opens, "What a shame. A treasure like you should be guarded. But I guess finder's keeper's."
Then I'm shoved into a car and everything goes black.
|||
James Buchanan Barnes
Y/N's going to actually kill me. As in my liver on a plate kill me.
The meeting that I promised would only be ten minutes has now gone for forty, and by now she's probably restless, hungry, and a little tipsy.
Great, and I pissed her off earlier so tonight is going to be so much fun.
I pull a hand through my dark hair with a slight groan as the man I was doing business with finally leaves my office. I sit for a second in the semi-quiet of my room, the pounding of music and laughter dulled by the walls. I know I shouldn't have gotten short with her earlier, but damn she wouldn't let up on me with the whole "stalker" thing.
My club is the safest place for her. I would never let anything happen to her, so for her to even think that...I sigh again, shoving it from my mind. It doesn't matter anymore. All that matters is finding my girlfriend and making all of this shit up to her. I rise from my leather chair and walk out of my office, the dulled sounds roaring into full force.
My eyes immediately shoot towards the bar to find my girl only to see an absence of her. With furrowed brows, I sweep my gaze towards the dance floor. Even crowded with people, I don't see her. I roll my eyes instantly, knowing what probably happened. She probably went home, probably's pissed as hell at me. I brush off my suit jacket and walk up to Lee at the bar, immediately garnering his attention. He smiles at me.
"Hey boss, can I get you anything?" He asks.
"No I'm good, thanks Lee," I respond, leaning on the bar with one arm and pinching the bridge of my nose, "Have you seen Y/N? I think I pissed her off."
There's a pause that makes me look over at my bartender. He's looking at me weirdly as he slides a drink to a customer and laughs slightly.
"Real funny, boss," Lee says, cleaning out a few glasses. I straighten up slightly, my brows furrowing deeper and my jaw setting.
"What's so funny, Lee? Have you seen her or not?" I ask, quickly losing my patience. I always thought he had a thing for her, always was too-
"Are you fucking with me right now?" Lee asks genuinely, cutting off my thoughts. When I don't respond, he realizes I'm not joking and his face goes grave, "So you didn't send her home twenty minutes ago?"
The world tilts around me and every ounce of anger, annoyance, and frustration leaves me in an instant. My heart drops like an anchor at sea and I don't dare to believe what Lee's words mean.
"She left twenty minutes ago," I begin slowly, trying desperately to hold myself together and not jump to a conclusion, "With someone who said I sent them to take her home."
Lee's face is slowly falling as he realizes the situation at hand. I feel so sick to my stomach that I can barely stand when Lee gives a faint nod. My world stops and then starts and then stops again.
"I never gave that order." I breathe.
"Bucky, I think that guy's following us"
I brushed her off.
"Bucky, this guy is really freaking me out. Please, stay with me."
I ignored her. I snapped at her. I prioritized work over the light of my life. I told her she'd be fine.
I left her.
Lee is saying something to me but I don't hear it as I shove away and storm over to Ed and Damien, my bouncers. My face is a painting of fury and shame and worry and panic and it's a storm that catches Ed and Damien's attention. They stop what they're doing and look to me, their brows furrowing.
"Boss, what's-"
"You let her leave?" I strangle out, my heart slamming in my chest and my fists balled by my sides, "You let a stranger take her away?"
The two share a confused glance before looking back to me.
"A stranger? Boss, the man who took Y/N home knew the code," Ed informs.
"Did you not send him?" Damien suddenly asks, his face tightening in instant panic.
He knew the code. He knew the code and he somehow got my doll, my fighter, out without so much of a warning.
And it's all my fault.
"Shut the club down, get everyone out. Call together all of our forces. Tell them-" My voice breaks, raw emotion clawing up my throat, "Tell them Y/N's been taken."
I don't wait for a response and shove out into the cold night, gasping for air like a fish out of water. I was so obsessed with the gala this week that Hydra, our arch nemesis, was putting on, that I stopped paying attention to the only part of my life that matters. I have a lot of things, all of which I could live without, but I cannot live without her.
And I left her.
I left her and now she's gone.
She tried to warn me, she tried to tell me someone was following us. She tried to get me to stay with her, to not leave her. And yet I walked away. I just walked away like she didn't even matter and I left vulnerable and alone the only person in this entire fucking universe I love. It's all my fault, and I'll spend every second of the rest of my life trying to make it up to her.
If I can even find her in time, before she-
No. I will find her and she will live. I will burn down this whole damn world if I have to, and I will not stop. Not until every person who laid a finger on my girl is dead. I will paint the world crimson with their blood until I find her, and once I do I will never, never, ignore or leave her again.
That's not a threat. It's a promise.
|||
Your POV
The collar secured to my throat is too tight, the metal no doubt leaving red grooves in my skin.
It hurts worse when Alexander Pierce, the mafia lord of Hydra, tugs the matching chain leash attached to it, pulling me closer to him and almost making me stumble mid-step.
The gala is glamorous, and my gown is nothing short of it as well. Pierce even went through the trouble of having someone do my hair. What he didn't do was my makeup.
That way anyone could see the dried blood and bruises littering my skin.
It's a scare tactic, I know that. A way to signal to everyone here that he's in charge and that he can't be defied. But I think he's got a bigger reason in mind for it all, the collar and the hideous marks on my skin.
And that reason is my boyfriend.
I can practically feel people's eyes follow me as I walk as steadily as I can at the end of Pierce's leash. Despite the radiating, excruciating pain that each step incurs, I keep my body steady and my chin high. I let the policemen and officials that are on his payroll and all of the members of his mafia see my bruises and cuts. He's parading me, so I'm going to put on a damn show.
A show to hide how mind-numbingly terrified I am right now.
Behind my set jaw and my cold eyes, I'm fighting back tears. The pain is mixing with the fear of the last few days to make a perfect storm within me. I'm terrified that any moment could be my last, that more pain could await me, that Bucky might never come for me
Or worse. That he doesn't even care.
Regardless of whether or not he cares, I'm still not going to give a single detail out. Even when Pierce himself tortured me until all I knew was blood and pain and fear, I said nothing. He didn't get a single word out of me. I just sat there, strapped to an iron chair, and took it. Every blow, every slice, every shout. At times my mind spared me and allowed me to slip into the sweet nothingness of unconsciousness, but it wouldn't be long after that I awoke to my head shoved into cold water to revive me.
And here I am, now taking a seat at the Dias of his gala room beside the mafia lord of Hydra, my boyfriend's sworn rival, with a collar around my neck tied to his wrist.
The music that wafts from the live orchestra is disturbingly jovial and light, filling the air with a sense of peace that provides such a stark juxtaposition to my insides that I almost puke. I sit ever so stiffly in my chair beside Pierce, my back burning with each movement because of the new stripes across its tender flesh.
As I feel warm liquid slide down my skin, I suddenly understand why Pierce insisted my dress be a dark maroon. I thought it was as at first just a beacon to everyone to show who I was with because it was his signature color, but I know better now. It's to hide the blood that seeps from my still-healing and probably infected wounds.
"Exquisite, isn't it?" Pierce asks, and I don't even have to turn towards him to know he wears a devilish smirk. A cruel man's trademark of victory.
I stay silent.
I hear him click his tongue as he sits back in his ornate chair, "All this quality time together and all I've heard from your voice has been your screams. No matter how pretty they are, doesn't seem polite to me."
This time, I can't hold myself back.
"Neither is kidnapping another human being and treating them like a prisoner of war," I announce, my voice raw and hoarse from the screaming and shouting of the past few days, "So pardon me if I'm not feeling too polite."
It's a bold move, but I make it anyways, gambling that he wouldn't lash out in the midst of his party. A little breath of relief escapes me when he chuckles.
"And here I was under the impression you were a sweet, soft-spoken sort of woman. My sources misjudged you." Pierce responds.
Of course he's been watching me. A scheme like this doesn't happen overnight. He's been planning this for a while, now. Pierce knew exactly when Bucky would be most vulnerable, when the defenses would be the loosest. It makes me want to scream.
"You're going to die for this," I whisper, quietly but not softly. There's his laugh again.
"Oh honey," Pierce starts, his voice condescending as if I were a toddler, "Careful with blind faith. What makes you so sure Barnes will make it out of this alive?"
His words unsettle something so deep within me that if I spend more than a few seconds touching on it, I'll shatter. Instead, I turn to look at Alexander Pierce for the first time since we've sat down. My eyes are cold and harsh upon him and the shining metal of the collar that tethers us.
"What makes you so sure it will be Bucky who kills you?"
He has the good sense to look the slightest bit unnerved, and I give him a smirk of my own, "Like you said before, your men sorely misjudged me."
Before he can respond, one of the guards that stands behind us steps forward and whispers something in the mafia lord's ear. Whatever he says makes Pierce grin fiercely as he looks back to me and gives the collar a tug.
"Your White Wolf is here."
My heart jumps so hard that I forget how to function. For a moment, everything else fades and dims away, even the biting pain wrapping me like a blanket of thorns. I snap my head back forward and when I see him I swear I almost break right then and there.
Because his eyes are already on me, and they're coated with fury.
It takes every ounce of strength I have to not dissolve into tears, to not let my fear show.
He's here.
He's here.
Bucky found me.
When our eyes meet, something so primal and raw ignites in his features. He looks seconds away from shattering as his chest heaves, his eyes scouring every inch of me. I feel undone before him, as if the dress doesn't hide a single thing that Pierce and his men have done to me.
"James Barnes," Pierce announces, snapping the connection between us swiftly, "I thought you'd never come. I hope you don't mind, I think I've stolen your date for the evening."
Then he wraps his palm around the chain leash and yanks it so hard that I nearly tumble out of the chair. His hand is there to stop me as it grabs my jaw in a bruising grip. Pierce hums, turning my face side to side before forcing it forward to the crowd that now watches. Bucky is painted with dark rage and looks seconds away from ending Pierce's life.
"She makes quite the pretty pet."
Bucky begins to storm forward only for two of the guests who belong to Pierce's mafia to grip onto his arms and prevent him.
"Take your fucking hand off of her, Pierce, or I swear I'll-" Bucky growls, and hearing his voice is enough to ease some of the knot that's wound in my chest these last few days.
"You'll what?" Alexander asks, releasing my chin but remaining ever so calmly in his seat beside me, "You must not care that much for my pet, after all you were the one to ignore her."
There's a bone-crushing silence and I see that same something shatter in my love's gaze.
"You shoved her off, you left her alone," Alexander cuts out, reaching out and running a hand through my hair, "You so carelessly let her slip through your fingers and here you are pretending to care."
"What I did was unforgivable, I know that," Bucky says suddenly, and I see even from here the silver lining his eyes as he speaks, "But she is a good person. She doesn't deserve this. If you need to punish someone, don't let it be her."
"You don't deserve her," Pierce says, and I want to scream that he's wrong but Bucky cuts me off. His eyes clash with mine and I fall in love all over again.
"I know," he says so softly that I almost miss it. I try to shake my head 'no', but Pierce tightens the collar, making me whimper.
Bucky shoves off the two men holding him, composing himself and standing stiffly a good ways before us.
"Let her go, Pierce," Bucky reiterates, his tone harsh once more and his stare pure murder, "I won't ask again."
Pierce clicks his tongue beside me, letting up on my leash to let me relax slightly.
"Oh Barnes, did you really waltz in here thinking you'd walk back out?"
There's a deadly silence and I swear you can hear my heart smash into the floor even though I expected this. With every second between his last words and his next, I grow more panicked.
"I have you surrounded, Barnes. You're not getting out of this," Pierce announces. Bucky doesn't look the least bit unnerved, though.
Pierce reaches you to an ear piece I didn't know was there and touches it, "Guns at attention."
From my spot next to him, all I hear is static. There's no response coming back, and the confusion becomes evident on Alexander's face at the same moment I realize what's going on. Hope like a new sunrise breaks in me and I look over at Bucky to find him smirking. He winks at me once before furrowing his brows at Pierce.
"What's wrong, can't reach your men?" Bucky taunts.
And then all Hell breaks loose.
Guns are firing and people are screaming and within seconds, Bucky's mafia that's already infiltrated the gala hall appears from the woodwork, their guns raised and keeping the few mafia members left under gun point. Bucky just stands coolly in the midst as another deadly silence blankets the room. I can practically feel the rage draining off of Alexander.
"Get him!" Pierce suddenly shouts, and what few men are left charge at Bucky. Including the personal guards around us. The gunfire begins again, and the classy event is soon painted crimson.
I take the brief moment of chaos to my advantage and shoot up from my seat. As soon as Pierce registers that I'm moving, it's too late. Despite the screaming of my body, I sprint behind Pierce's chair and brace one heeled foot at its back. Then, before he can reach for a gun, I wrap the leash he's collared me with around his neck and pull back, strangling him with the own device he subjected me under.
His hands claw desperately at the chain and I feel my exhausted muscles trembling, but I refuse to let up. I keep holding the chain tighter and snap my gaze up in Bucky's direction just in time to see him shoot a guard between the eyes.
"Bucky!" I shout, gaining his attention instantly.
I know I can't hold Pierce off much longer, so Bucky will need to help me take him down while I've got him strangled to the chair. The metal is cutting deep into his skin when Bucky begins fighting desperately to reach us. Before he can, though, Pierce gets a purchase on the chain and yanks with such force that it sends my body flying over him and the chair. I land flat on my back so hard on the tile that the air rushes out of my lungs and every cut and tear rips open.
"Y/N!" Bucky roars, and it rattles my very bones
I gasp and groan in pain simultaneously, desperately trying to get air into my lungs. The second I can breathe again, Pierce is dragging me backwards by the chain.
"No!" I shout, reaching up and gripping the chain before yanking it.
We tug back and forth as he drags me, but I manage to hook my foot around one of the overturned chairs and use the leverage to yank the chain so hard that I hear a snap followed by a shrill yell.
I just broke his wrist.
When I pull again, the chain comes free and a weight lifts from my shoulders. I scramble to my feet, about to sprint away and towards where I last saw Bucky when Pierce's hands grip my shoulders and rip me back. I don't even have time to scream when my back is slammed into a hard wall and Pierce is before me, a knife in his unmangled hand that's pressed to my cheek.
"You little bitch" he seethes.
My chest is heaving with breath and panic as I read back and spit in his face as hard as I can. He recoils slightly and I relish in it. My happiness only lasts a second, though, because his knife is pressing into my cheek. I try to squirm but his body is pressed firmly to mine and pins me to the wall.
"I so didn't want to end you this quickly," Pierce whispers, his voice slithering against my skin.
I keep trying to be strong, to be so strong, but it's getting harder to keep up. I try to not show my fear, but it's getting harder and harder to hide. I feel myself finally breaking after the hell that these last few days have been and just when I think he's going to end it all, he's gone. In a moment, he's off of me and unconscious on the ground.
And Bucky is standing before me, his chest heaving and his eyes wild.
"Bucky," I breathe, already feeling my strength slip away.
I don't have to be strong anymore.
Bucky drops the gun he just rendered Pierce unconscious with, every inch of his face softening upon my bloody, trembling form. He looks a minute away from crying when I stumble forward and crash into him, letting myself break down in his arms that already wrap around my waist and keep me upright. He keeps me so tight to himself that there is no room between us. I bury my face into his neck and let out a sob, my tears mixing with the blood on his suit. I can't tell which of us is shaking harder, but all I can tell is the warmth and security that Bucky's hands bring me.
"Oh doll," Bucky whispers, sending a shiver down my spine, "You're alive. You're alive."
I mumble some sort of affirmation, but I can barely think straight.
"I'm so sorry, doll. I'm so sorry." Bucky repeats it over and over again, "God, Y/N I'm so sorry."
"It's okay, Buck. It's alright," I whisper, but he keeps shaking his head. He pulls back far enough to meet my gaze.
"I've been shitty to you. I should've listened to you, I should never have left you. I am never leaving you again."
"It's okay, I forgive you," I repeat, brushing a bloody hand against his jaw, "Of course it's gonna cost you at least four new pairs of shoes."
At my joke, a laugh of pure relief to have me back in hands escapes his lips. I chuckle softly too, taking in every inch of his breathtaking face. A tear drops down his cheek and he leans his forehead against mine.
"I love you so much, I love you more than life." he breathes.
"I love you too. That's all that kept me breathing, loving you,"I respond, and his lips are on mine in an instant.
Even though it's only been a few days, kissing him feels like I've been in a drought and he's my water. The kiss is desperate and pleading and consuming. It steals whatever strength is left in my knees and I link my arms around his neck to support myself. When he finally pulls away, he leaves a trail of kisses to my nose and then my forehead before tugging me to himself again.
"I'm going to tear him apart for this," Bucky vows, and I know it shouldn't but I still let out a breath of relief at that.
"Is that why he's not dead yet?" I ask, chuckling softly. He does the same, kissing the top of my head.
"That's exactly why," Bucky agrees, pulling back and rubbing a finger along my cheek. He becomes serious again and I feel my heart flutter.
"When I found out you were gone, I lost myself." He says, his throat bobbing as he Cho's my face with his large hands, "Y/N, there is no me without you"
I turn to kiss his hand before leaning into it more.
"I'll always find my way back to you. You're all I have, James"
Another tear works down his cheek before he finally steps to the side. The gala is trashed, but the gunfire is over. Apparently, his men were here hours before anyone else got here. I feel my strength abandoning me, so I lean my weight onto Bucky. He feels this and immediately scoops me into his arms, holding me close to his chest.
"I'm going to kiss every one of these scars when we get back" His voice rumbles, and I smile as I lean my head further into him.
"Let's go home, my love"
And he held up his promise. He never left me again.
#bucky#bucky x female reader#bucky imagine#bucky au#bucky barnes#mafia!bucky#mob!bucky#mafia#mafia bucky#mob bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#angst#grovelling#mafia au#au#mob!bucky x reader#mafia!bucky x reader#oneshot#bucky barnes oneshot
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EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI
Jim Hopper x reader • Hopper has been your dad’s best friend for years. He always thought you were a nice, if not slightly awkward, kid. But when you return home to Hawkins during a break from college, Hopper is immediately smitten with the young woman you’ve become. He indulges his infatuation with you in the only way he can. Hopper lets his mind run wild with a fantasy that’s become familiar to him, even though his feelings for you leave him racked with guilt. And maybe that’s where the story would end for Hopper, alone and burning up in a desire he would never be set free from… But when you came home to Hawkins, you brought with you a knowledge, a craft, that a practical man like Hopper would never give credence to, until it captures him wholly, body-mind-and spirit…
Quiet moments like this were the most difficult for Hopper. When he wasn’t physically kept busy with his job, he was mentally kept busy by his conscience. Guilt tended to creep up on him most acutely in the moments he should have been able to rest, especially the early hours of morning. While Hopper believed mornings should be spent with warm coffee and personal introspection, he found it impossible to practice what he preached.
In fact, Hopper’s hypocrisy extended to more than one area in his life. While the town of Hawkins assumed their Chief of Police was, for the most part, an upstanding and honorable man, he harbored an uncomfortable secret that burned in the back of his heart: Jim Hopper was in love with his best friend’s daughter…
If only you’d never come back to Hawkins, Hopper told himself, he wouldn’t be caught in this moral storm. If you’d stayed away at college, Hopper never would have given you a second thought, except for when your dad mentioned you. His only memory of you would have remained the one Hopper had always had, of you as a skinny, polite-but-awkward kid.
The current image of you in Hopper’s mind was vastly different. You were all grown up now, the clumsiness of your youth replaced with a woman’s elegance. A gentle, refined softness had replaced all your rough edges, the gangly limbs of your teen years now shaped into the graceful form of a young woman. A beautiful woman, Hopper realized, who had him completely wrapped around your finger…
The day began as a regular Monday morning for Hopper, complete with the weight of guilt on his conscience. He stared up at the ceiling from bed and had a cigarette, his free hand moving beneath the blanket covering him, lazily massaging his cock. Hopper had always taken care of his morning wood, usually as his first activity of every day. But what now darkened his behavior and made it feel wrong, was the fact that Hopper couldn’t touch himself without thinking of you…
He tried to imagine someone else…anyone else. Hopper’s usual mental reference for masturbation was Bo Derek, an actress he’d had a crush on for years. The recurring fantasy Hopper had entertained for so long now felt stale in comparison to his thoughts of you…You, with your pretty, bright eyes flashing wide up at Hopper, a blush blooming on your cheeks as you realize he’s standing in the doorway of your room…as you realize he’s been standing there, watching you undress, for minutes now. And you’re covering yourself with the first item of clothing you could grab, a thin t-shirt, clutching it over your breasts in an attempt to hide your nakedness...
…But the shirt’s fabric is too sheer to provide any true coverage, any real protection from Hopper’s penetrating, wolfish stare. He steps inside your room, closing the door behind him, and presses in the lock with his thumb…
In the privacy of his bed, Hopper’s hand moved with more direction beneath the sheet, his grip around his cock tensing. As usual, he’d give in to the temptation that plagued him daily: he was going to come to the fantasy of you.
In Hopper’s mind, there were no moral obstacles in his way, no societal expectations from anyone preventing him from having you. He could fuck your face, your tits, your cunt, your ass, and come anywhere on and in you that he pleased. No one was there to stop him in the safe enclosure of his fantasy. And Hopper allowed himself to indulge.
“…Chief?” your wide eyes darted over his face. “W-what are you doing here?”
Hopper’s hand left the doorknob, moving to his shirt collar. “I think you and I already know the answer to that question, (y/n),” he said, his voice low, husky. You took a step back as you watched Hopper loosen the first few buttons of his shirt, your grip on the fabric covering you faltering slightly.
“How long were you standing there?” you asked tentatively. “Watching me?”
Hopper smirked as he undid the last button on his shirt. “Long enough to know that everything I’ve imagined about your body is right,” he replied, moving closer. “You’re fucking beautiful, (y/n)…Has anyone ever told you that?”
Your eyes drifted over Hopper’s exposed chest and down his stomach, watching as he unbuckled his belt. You nodded confidently, feeling less embarrassed. “Plenty of guys have told me I’m beautiful,” you replied, your voice a little sharper than you intended. You allowed the t-shirt over your chest to slip a little further down, revealing your nipples. “I’m twenty-one years old, Chief Hopper. Of course I date.” You smirked back at him now. “Lots of guys have fucked me.”
“Mm-hmm,” Hopper chuckled to himself, pulling his belt from his jeans. “I’m sure they have. And all these guys-,” He emphasized the word. “-any of them actually make you come?”
Your cheeks heated again, going pink. “I…uh-,” you stammered, as Hopper tossed his belt to your bedroom floor. “Any of these boys...” His hand moved to his cock, palming the bulge tenting his jeans. “…Make you feel like a man could make you feel…?”
Your chest dipped, your breath quickening as Hopper closed the space between your bodies. “…Like I could make you feel?” he continued, his dark blue eyes probing yours. Hopper was standing right in front of you now, mere inches separating your bodies. His hands moved to cover yours, gently removing them (and the t-shirt) from your breasts.
Your lips parted in an expression of both surprise and desire. Hopper cupped your cheek warmly in his palm, gliding his fingertips lightly along your chin. Your eyes fell closed in blissful surrender as Hopper touched you, the last of your defenses evaporating…
Hopper groaned as he fisted his cock, the muscles in his stomach tense. He knew he needed to hurry his fantasy along, or risk arriving even later at the station than he usually did Monday mornings. Hopper had already overslept and still had to shower, shave, and grab something quick to eat before heading into the station. So in his mind, Hopper fast-forwarded a bit to the part of his fantasy he liked best…the part where you begged…
…Hopper’s cock punched deep, sloppy thrusts inside you, rocking your bed frame, knocking off several plushies as he split you in half. One of his hands was wrapped in your hair, pulling your head back, your lips parted in a moan of ecstasy as he fucked places inside you no other man had reached.
“Come on, honey,” Hopper murmured down at you, his voice thick with exertion. “Go ahead and let go; I’ve got you sweetheart, just let it go…”
You whimpered beneath him, bucking under the weight of Hopper’s body. “Chief-,” you started, but Hopper cut you off, his words punctuated by each thrust of his hips. “That’s not my name, honey,” he gently insisted. “Go on-say my name-I know you know it-.”
“-Jim,” you panted against his shoulder. “Jim please, please Jim, please come inside me-.”
Hopper’s cock twitched at your request, at hearing you whimper his name. His balls were tight, aching for relief. Hopper’s eyebrows met, his forehead creased as he strained to withhold his climax just a little longer…
“Say it again,” he growled beside your ear, but your reply was lost in a groan. “Hey!” Hopper said forcefully, taking hold of your chin and holding it firmly. Your lips parted, and he spat between them. “Say my name if you want my cum,” Hopper ordered. “Say-,” *thrust* “My-,” *thrust* “Name...”
You came undone beneath Hopper, his name spilling out from between your lips like a prayer as he spilled his release inside you…
Hopper’s cock pulsed in his fist, his stomach clenching as a thick, creamy load of cum gushed from his tip. He cursed as his semen made a mess all over the bed; Hopper would have to wash the sheets later, or else sleep in his own cum that night. He reached for a fresh cigarette and stared up at the ceiling while exhaling thin clouds of smoke in its direction.
Hopper wondered how much longer he could go on like this? His ability to resist fantasizing about you was virtually non existent. Eventually, he’d have to either figure out a way to let go of his lust for you, or tell you how he felt. And Hopper knew the second option really wasn’t an option at all. There’s no way in hell you’d actually be attracted to him, Hopper thought. He was the same age as your dad, and that alone had to be a major turn-off for you. The likelihood of you ever viewing him as anything besides a contemporary of your dad’s was slim to none. And the last thing Hopper wanted to be, for you, was a father figure…
He swung his legs over the bed, and forced himself to the shower. Hopper knew that revealing his sick secret would destroy his friendship with your dad. He didn’t want that. And maybe more than anything, Hopper didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He chuckled darkly to himself as he stood in the shower, letting the water run over him. A sweet, pretty young woman like you would never guess she was the subject of a perverted cop’s fantasies. Not with all the men who probably pursued you at college, men twenty years younger than Hopper. At best, you likely viewed him as a nice older man, someone you could trust just like you could trust your dad.
Hopper shook his head, gazing down at the shower drain. How wrong you were, he thought to himself. Because there was nothing about Hopper that was trustworthy, when it came to his true feelings for you. He was a hypocrite, a liar, and a convincing one. For now, he would go on spending time with your dad, at your home, pretending like everything was okay. And one day, when you returned to college, maybe Hopper would be free of your spell…
✨ one week earlier ✨
It was a peaceful Monday morning for you. Home from college on Summer break, waking up in your childhood bedroom filled you with a rush of nostalgia you hadn’t experienced in a long time. Sunlight feathered through your curtains and across your bed. You stretched your legs and arms, and let your thoughts drift to the evening before.
Jim Hopper had stopped by to visit your dad last night and watch a football game together. You hadn’t seen Hopper in over two years. To be honest, you’d forgotten about your old crush on the town’s chief of police, letting it fade to the back of your mind as college life became your main focus. Traveling away from home to the big city of Indianapolis, Indiana, was a life-changing experience. You’d never been that far from Hawkins before, and while a few familiar faces from home were there as well, it still felt like the small town you loved was a whole world away.
Over time, you’d forgotten about Chief Hopper and the silly little crush you’d had on him when you were younger. But when he showed up at your house last night, your feelings for him were…brand new. Now, you were an adult, and nothing about your previous crush was present in the feelings you had watching your dad’s friend enter your home. Viewing Hopper through the eyes of a woman, your perception of him was completely different.
You’d been with a man before, a man your age. It had only happened once, and it was terrible. You regretted losing your virginity to someone who obviously had no idea what he was doing, let alone what he was supposed to be doing to you. Part of you wondered what a man like Jim Hopper, a man with decades of experience fucking women, could do to you? The Chief’s love life had always been a popular topic of gossip around town. Rumor had it that Hopper was quite promiscuous, and had developed a reputation as a womanizer in his younger days. A man like that, who you just so happened to be insanely attracted to, could probably show you what sex was supposed to be like. What a real, rough fuck was like, the kind of fucking you fantasized about, the kind of thoughts you touched yourself to…
You sifted through the pages of a well-worn notebook. In its contents were various notes on divination, the phases of the moon, a record and analysis of your dreams, the magickal correspondences of crystals, colors, and more. But by far, the most important content in your notebook were the spells you’d written. Some had worked, some had failed, and there were some you had written but not yet used. One of these un-cast spells was the love spell you’d written. Admittedly, it was less of a love spell and more of a lust spell, but…regardless, you hadn’t yet found the right person to use as inspiration when the spell was cast. You’d never desired anyone enough to make an attempt at bending the Universe’s will to influence your love life, but…seeing Jim Hopper again had stirred something powerful inside you.
Gathering your supplies, you prepared yourself mentally and physically to carry out the spell. You opened your bedroom window and let the sun sink its fingers beneath your skin, absorbing its masculine energy. Performing the spell by moonlight would have been useful in securing a lover whose energy was feminine. But the object of your desire was absolutely dripping with a masculinity so potent, you didn’t think you’d ever been near a man who exuded such powerful masculine energy.
After completing the spell, you trusted that the only thing left to do was wait. You climbed back into the familiar warmth of your bed, feeling a bit sleepy, but with a thrumming ache between your thighs that just couldn’t be ignored. Slipping a hand beneath your panties, you imagined it was Jim Hopper’s hand instead. Believing in your personal power, you trusted that the Universe was working with you. It may take a week, or ten days, or fourteen; but you would have Jim Hopper. If he didn’t want you already, he would, and badly. He would soon be craving you, not just desiring you, but burning alive inside with the need to possess you. Closing your eyes, you began to rub soft circles over your clit, building the pressure until it broke in waves, and Jim Hopper’s name was spilling from your lips in panted, grateful whispers… ✨
PART TWO
#stranger things#stranger things smut#jim hopper#david harbour#dbf!hopper#dbf!jim hopper#hopper smut#jim hopper smut#hopper x reader#jim hopper x reader#hopper x fem reader#jim hopper x fem!reader#hopper x y/n#jim hopper x y/n#jim hopper x you#hopper x you#Spotify#jim hopper x you smut#Jim hopper x reader smut#hopper fanfic#jim hopper stranger things#hopper stranger things#jim hopper fanfic#hopper x fem smut#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#hopper fic#Jim hopper fic#chief jim hopper
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Outliving the stars | Choi San
synopsis: You've always felt a part of you was missing, the desire for something greater only being lessened when you were gazing at the stars. You know you lost something, someone, you just dont remember what, who. Maybe the astrology major your friend sent you on a blind date with has the answers.
Pairing: Choi San x Male!reader
Info: one shot, words(2.1K),
Trope: reincarnation, Immortal x mortal, hurt/comfort
Warnings: mentions of nightmares, anxiety, topic of death, suggestive jokes, it's said they have sex but no actual smut, injuries, birthmarks shaped like scars, insecurity, self scrutinizing, social anxiety, overthinking, talks of past lives
Song inspo: Burn out the stars - Bryce savage
It was at times like these that you wished you could punch your best friend. Wooyoung was sweet, but you swear he had it out for you, sending you out on a blind date with nothing but a first name. Now you were standing at the planetarium entrance like an idiot waiting for someone you didn't even know.
Wooyoung had pesterd you for three weeks until you finally gave in. He kept trying to set you up with one of his classmates, and you were too tired to register what you were agreeing to. "Come on [Name], you can't keep being hung up on some mystery guy from your dreams. San, on the other hand is perfect, broad shoulders, an astrology major, rich, handsome face, smooth voice and he's kind" Wooyoung rambled on as you were sitting in your dorm, trying to finish the economics paper you had that was due on Friday.
"Do you want me to go out with this guy, or do you want to do so yourself?" You asked him, only receiving a pillow to your face as a response. Sighing, you looked at Wooyoung, who was taking up your entire bed. "If I go on this date, would you let me finish my paper in silence?"
Wooyoung immediately jumped up from the bed. "YES, OKAY YAY!I'm gonna go tell San you agreed! Oh! This is gonna be so much fun! SATURDAY 1PM SHARP, " Wooyoung shouted while jumping around before sharply turning on his heel to sprint out of the room, leaving with a shout of "WEAR THOSE CUTE JEANS I BOUGHT YOU!"
You only sighed, turning back to your paper and relishing in the silence.
You did, in fact, end up wearing the jeans he bought you, black baggy jeans with white stars splattered on them, matched with your red converse, and a red hoodie.
You did not want to be here, it was cold, people were staring (probably because of the scar on your face, a voice in your head told you, you ignored it) and you were craving a strawberry refresher. You guess arriving an hour early wasn't the best course of action, but you were up early, not being able to sleep the night before.
Dreams of your faceless lover had once again plagued your mind. It had been a common occurrence ever since you turned 10. You would be cuddled up in the arms of a man you could not remember, but you knew him. In a soft grass field he would be holding you tightly, you would both be watching the stars, you listening as he points out different constellations, these dreams were safe, they made you feel at ease.
But all too often, these dreams would evolve into nightmares, the same 7 scenes playing out. Your therapist had said it must have been a physiological way to deal with your own insecurities. The birthmarks that littered your skin had always looked like scars. You remember talking to her when you were 12. She said it was your brain trying to justify the marks, trying to create a story for them.
You believed her. After all, she knew better, but these dreams just felt so real, so vivid. You would hear your own heartbeat slow down and hear the cries of your mystery lover as he holds onto you. You could feel the tears dripping from his face onto yours. No matter what turn these nightmares had, they always ended with you dying in his arms.
You guess Wooyoung had been right in his concern, as your best friend he knew first hand the effect these dreams had on you. The nights you wake up gasping for air, vomiting out your dinner, clawing at your neck because something in your throat is burning. The times you're awake while your consciousness is still trapped in whatever nightmare you were experiencing. He had been there since the age of 10, he had been there.
You rubbed together the two sleeves of your hoodie, starting to feel more uncomfortable as time passed by. People were walking past, laughing, and giggling at one another. You wondered what was so funny, what were they all laughing at? Were they laughing at you? no, you didn't do anything funny, did you? oh, it's your face, right? Your face is funny, it's ugly, creepy, the scar covering your eye, one you did not deserve. A mutated freak born with scars that were not earned a fake, a- "[Name]?" A hand on your shoulder disrupts your anxiety fueled thoughts.
You turn around to find a black haired man, he's a little shorter than you, although his shoulders are broad. Jawline sharp, eyes as soft as a warm blanket on a winter's night, despite the intimidating structure of the man, his eyes, his smile, his dimples, he seems inviting, familiar almost.
He stands smiling at you, the arm he used to grab your attention is hovering awkwardly in the air, his cheeks are flushed, a pink matching one of the familiar drinks in his hand. "Umm, I'm San? your date. " he seems unsure of himself, but you find it cute, having to suppress a giggle so as to not make him feel bad.
You give him a small smile as you mentally thank Wooyoung for choosing someone good looking,"Nice to meet you, San." You nod your head at him as you shift your weight between your feet. You're being so awkward right now, but something tells you that San doesn't mind.
Despite your lack of social skills, the interaction itself does not seem awkward. Although you can feel something straining it, you brush it off to first date jitters. "Oh!um I also got us some drinks, Wooyoung said you liked strawberry refreshes, although I don't know if he was messing with me. He has a tendency to do that lately, but um drink?" San asks as he lifts up the hand, holding two drinks questioningly. His shoulders seem to tense as he awaits your reaction.
"Woo didn't lie, I do like Strawberry refreshers, thank you" you nod your head at him, his shoulders relax as he lets out a breath of relief, he picks up the pink drink from the holder in his hand and gives it to you. Your fingers touch for a moment as you take the drink from him and you jump back a little, San doesn't seem all that surprised, but he chuckles "Static electricity's a bitch, huh?"
You don't think that's how it works, but you laugh along nonetheless. It's weird as you walk with San into the planetarium. You don't like new people, don't feel comfortable around them, yet with San, it's different. You feel safe with him. He feels so familiar.
You spend the day following San around the planetarium, he excitedly points out constellations, and you swear the fake stars above your head shine dimmer than the light in Sans eyes. Somewhere along the line, your hand had been intertwined with his, as a precaution to not lose one another, you told yourself.
The date ends when the sky outside matches the one in the planetarium, a dark purple background with little specks of light twinkling above you both. The date lasted the whole day and you were having so much fun you didn't even realize, Wooyoungs gonna kill you for not telling him how everything went immediately but you can't find it in yourself to care about the headache your best friend will inevitably give you tomorrow morning.
That night, you sit on your bed, smiling down at the goodnight text from San, despite him having wished you a goodnight merely a few hours before when he walked you to your dorm. That night is the first night you sleep peacefully, no dreams of your mystery lover, no dieing, no waking up in a cold sweat despite it being winter. Nothing
Instead that night you sleep, cuddled up with the tiny red star plushie that San won for you at one of the planetarium games, you named her 'astéri' the greek word for star. Also, the exact name you put as your contact for the man who won her for you.
Your relationship with San had been a fast development, one date, then two, then you start eating lunch together, he starts walking you to classes, he joins your friends and you on movie nights, he plays games with Yunho. San becomes a part of your life faster than you can imagine, and you don't even care.
It's on your hundred day anniversary, a hundred days of dates and hangouts, and obviously being together despite no official title, that San officially asks you to be his boyfriend.
It's an emotional ordeal. He made a picnic in his backyard, creating a fort where you could both lay down and watch the stars on the soft grass. It's summer now, much hotter than when you first met, you wear a red tank top. San has expressed his love for your collarbones before, and thinking back to the moment makes you blush.
He was a bit tipsy when he blurted it out, face flushed pink given the alcohol of the drinking game he had played with your friends earlier, the room was hot, filled with college boys and liquor, so of course you took off your jacket, San had started cheering, then giggling, talking about how much he liked your neck, your collarbones. You don't know if he remembers this moment, you hope he doesn't, it would save you the embarrassment.
San presents you with a necklace on the night of his confession, a black leather strap threaded through a red star that's rimmed with silver. On the back of the necklace, the name 'astéri' is carved, under it lies numbers which look like coordinates. You don't ask.
San slips the necklace around your neck, fingers trailing dangerously slow along your shoulders. You were scared at first, you liked San, loved him, as much as you trusted him, you were scared of what his reaction would be.
He may have seen you in strappy clothing before, but he's never seen the extent to which your birthmarks your scars cover your body. The worst of them were located on your waist.
Despite your hesitance, the way San looks at you after you agree to be his, after you agree to let him be yours, it makes you want to kiss him, let him embrace every part of you and let you do the same to him.
He looks at you like you yourself were the star and who were you to deny a mortal access to a celestial entity?
That night, you learn the true extent of San's love for you, the way he trails his fingers overy every inch of your skin, extra soft kisses placed on the marks littering your body, he's gentle almost as if he knows the phantom pains they bring you, despite you never having told him.
That night you and San become, you and San, under the stars. On the soft blanket he laid out in his backyard as the warm wind of summer nips at your exposed skin.
It's when you're lying down, breathless, in between San's arms that he starts talking, answering your question from earlier that night. The numbers on the back of the necklace, the coordinates, are of a star San bought in your name. He literally bought you a star and named it 'astéri'.
"You deserve the whole galaxy, and yet I do not have the power to retrieve it for you. This way, you can have a piece of the outer world, and it can have a piece of you"
You don't think you've ever felt so loved in your life. You had fallen for San so quickly, so hard. It's hard to imagine a time when he wasn't in your life, despite the fact that you hadn't known him long, everything with him just felt so right.
You were sure you were meant to be with San in every lifetime, meant to spend every moment of your life with him. When you told him this, it had been the first time you ever saw him cry, genuinely cry. It was as if your words affected him more than you knew. You're sure they did.
That's one thing you never did understand about San, he has told you everything about himself, but you still felt as if something was missing, a piece of information locked away, it was like he was guarding it, scared you would find out. He thought he hid it well, but you prided yourself on knowing people, knowing your boyfriend. You trusted him. He would tell you when he was ready.
You and San would watch the stars burn out together, watch the world fall in each others arms, protected by a love so pure that the only thing left in the universe would be you and San
Taglist: @xavi-in-kpopland @itsvxlentine @liyatime @hetalia-pol @mommahwa1117
Home page | Ateez masterlist
#kpop x male reader#ateez#college au!#choi san#choi san x reader#choi san x male reader#mortal x immortal#hurt/comfort#ateez angst#angst with a happy ending#kind of#soulmate au kind of?#ateez x male reader#ateez fluff#ateez fic#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez written fic#san choi#Spotify#asher 🌑 speaks#The amount of star references in this fic😭#please tell me if u find any spelling errors I wrote this on my phone
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The Limo Driver (part one)
Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader
Warnings: SMUT. Very NSFW which is funny cause reader is in her workplace. Fingers exactly where you want them.
Summary: Jake has issues, yet has the audacity to be possessive.
Words: 4700+
Notes: Hiii! I wasn't posting for a while because I wasn't satisfied with my writing, but now save yourselves I'm backkkk
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Truth is… you’ve missed him. All this time you’ve missed him.
You have realized he never told you how old he is, where he is from, or what he does. You don’t have any substantial information about his personality, about who he is as a person. All you know is he answers to the name of Jake and you think he drives a limo for a living.
That’s it. That’s all you have on him. And half of it it’s guessed.
Yet, you’ve missed him. A lot. Which is pretty stupid. And annoying.
Because if you already have to deal with mornings you suddenly wake up breathing hard and sweaty just by the infuriatingly vivid idea of his warm mouth making his way down on your neck, or the roughness of his hands grabbing your hips to pull you closer, deeper, harder… ugly, disgusting ideas you’re determined to call nightmares. At work, everything gets worse.
There are days when the restaurant is full, no matter how late it is. So you move around on a nonstop cycle greeting, serving, and cleaning until your shift is over and you don’t have energy left to think about anything else than your soft, comfy bed. But there are also days when almost no one comes. Days when no one wants breakfast at 1 am, for some reason, so you don’t have anyone to reassure there’s still bacon and eggs available—even when the ‘24-hour breakfast’ slogan plagues pretty much every inch of the restaurant. Nothing to serve, nothing to clean, no repetition to follow. Nothing to concentrate on.
So all that are you left with it’s the constant hum of the ceiling fan, your thoughts and the fact that his usual seat pulls your attention like a gravitational force, taking over you against all your fucking will. Whether it’s being used by a stranger and you can’t escape how wrong it feels having someone else where it should be him, or when its emptiness seems to mock how you haven’t been able to forget him despite how long it’s been since the last time you saw him.
So of course it’s stupid and annoying… and stupid.
Because if he’s not sitting there frowning at his coffee and flirting with you whenever you got closer enough, as he did for weeks on end all these months ago, it’s because he doesn’t want to, right? It’s been nearly a half-year for fuck’s sake. Of course he doesn’t want to.
You know that. You do. Yet the kiss gets replayed on your mind all the fucking time. Because that’s the exact same spot where you felt his lips against yours for real, not like the not-good-enough vanished version of your drea—nightmares.
Even though you’d prefer those horrible nightmares than staying behind the counter with nothing to do but alternate your eyes between a smooching couple in one corner and an old melancholic man observing the night sky in the other, the only customers in the restaurant. No one else has entered the place in a torturously slow hour and a half. And there's still another hour left until your shift ends.
It’s embarrassing how all your life you had been proud of yourself for not letting anyone take over your mind as you’ve seen in cheesy movies and listened to in corny songs. You were fine, taking care of your well-being, working on as many jobs as physically possible, patiently increasing your savings, doing everything in your hands to follow your slightly unrealistic dreams. But this? This is straight-out dumb.
You think about him as soon as you wake up, you get distracted on your daily life, on your work. And the fact that any little silly thing has the power to make you think of him, to wonder what he might be doing, may have he eaten, might he be okay—it’s infuriating.
You just never had someone on your mind… all the fucking time.
And now it’s getting to a point you’re just mad about it. About how silly you were to open up to him, to share your dreams and fears when he didn’t even tell you his last name. About how naive you were to let him be part of your life so easily. About the stupid kiss, too. About how you still care, how you’re still hoping he’s okay. About everything. Even the soft buzzing of the coffee machine is getting on your nerves.
You just have to… forget him. Somehow.
While you channel all of your frustration into cleaning the bar table for the eighty-sixth time you go through it again. You need a plan, you have to get over him. You need to go out, have a social life, get some new air. You’ll fucking do fifty push-ups every time he comes to mind if you need to. You won’t spend not even one more second thinking of him or his stupid lips, nor the lopsided almost-smiles he would give you every time you—
“Always working so hard, preciosa.”
A beat, and then you feel how your heart starts to race in your chest as all the oxygen seems to leave your lungs, getting replaced with too many emotions and thoughts you can’t process all at once. Everything feels like too much for a second. Too alive, too fast, too hot. And as if your body had a mind of its own, while you’re still trying to regain control of it, your head lifts and you’re certain you’ll finally find out you have lost your fucking mind.
But you haven't. Because he’s right there, in his usual chair.
Jake.
His brown eyes are the first thing that catches your attention, his gaze always having the power to somehow make you feel safe and exposed at the same time. Just like the first time you saw him, you weren’t able to look away even when he was drenched, limping, and bleeding. Another thing he never explained.
The memory makes you examine the rest of his body. He’s wearing a t-shirt and a shirt and his chest is moving hard underneath, almost like he had run here. At least he doesn’t seem hurt this time. You also notice he’s not wearing his usual hat and you think this might be the first time you’ve ever seen his hair in full glory. Even if it’s slightly combed you can see it’s curly and fluffy and you try to bury deep down the stupid desire to lose your fingers in it.
And you realize his whole body seems to be vibrating with some sort of energy, some sort of excitement you’ve also never seen in him before. And your own body, too susceptible to his, can almost feel it emanating out of him.
You search back for his eyes just in time to catch his slowly lifting from your body and when they make contact with yours they shine with something you rather don’t think about right now.
“It’s been a while,” he says still a little out of breath. And your heart is still in your throat while you wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. Is he expecting you to say something back to that? After all this time? Oh, it’s been a while? I haven’t noticed. At all. It’s not like I’ve been worrying to death because of you.
But even if you wanted to say anything at all out loud you don’t think you could, you’re still frozen in place working with way less oxygen than needed. So you keep taking each other in, staring in silence like two idiots waiting for the other to say something. And to your surprise, he gives in first.
“Did you miss me?” He doesn’t smile, but his eyes are bright and there’s a teasing lilt to his voice, that flirty tone you know so well. The first thing about him that you can actually recognize because everything else feels out of place. The absence of his hat, the casual clothes, his whole weirdly happy demeanor. So you hold into it.
Which is the worst thing you could do. Because your heart already struggling somewhere in your chest makes a mortal downfall to your stomach in response to it. And you feel it breaking a little bit more. Of the thousand if-he-ever-comes-back scenarios you had in your head you never picture him being almost… cheeky about it. He spends night after night for months bolted to that chair, talking to you, flirting with you, fighting any drunk who got too handsy, waiting for you on your late shifts to accompany your way home through dark streets, looking at you in that stupid bone-melting way he does… kissing you, just to disappear for six months and appear all of the sudden to ask if you missed him? The nerve of him.
“It’s good to see you, Jake,” you acknowledge, and you curse yourself for your slightly shaky voice. You’re still trying to gain your body back from the emotional overload. The adrenaline is still buzzing through your veins. And the way his gaze flick to your mouth once you pronounce his name doesn't make it any easier.
“Just black coffee?” You hear yourself ask, and you curse yourself once more for blurting out his usual order just like that. You shouldn’t remember those things after six months, should you? The thing is you’re not just trying to avoid answering his stupid question but you also need to have at least something to do with your hands. You can’t just stand there in front of him like an idiot, for god’s sake.
“Uh, yeah, thanks,” he answers dropping his gaze to the table and you take the opportunity to turn around away from his mesmerizing brown eyes and stupidly long eyelashes at least for a moment. “Always having fun playing with my heart, preciosa. You didn’t miss me, then?”
Again, the nerve of him.
“Clients come and go,” you toss carelessly back at him. Not facing him gives you a false sense of power. You have never been so ruthless around him, you never fully played along with his flirty comments but neither did you shut him down. Not being able to resist him. Stupid you. But no more of that.
“Mmm, just a client then,” he remarks in a meditative tone.
“Well, after all this time you’re not even that, are you?” You throwback a little too firmly, serving his cup of coffee a little too hard, almost spilling some on the counter bar. God, where is this passive aggressiveness coming from?
He doesn’t answer and you don’t expect him to. Instead he just looks at you. So you do the same, you can’t back down now.
As you observe him you notice part of his weirdly vibrating energy seems to have diminished along with his playful demeanor. He has realized you’re not playing around. And for a second you feel a stab of regret. Despite your annoyance, you enjoyed watching this new third expression his always serious face is capable of making, besides his usual grumpy, extra-grumpy murderous one you were already used to. Now all you have left are his rich brown eyes, which reveal more information than his words have ever done. Despite his will, you believe.
“How’s our cat?” Jake tries again, changing the subject. One you can’t resist.
“My cat. Just mine. And she’s fine. So big you wouldn’t recognize her.”
“Did you find her a name?”
“No. She’s still Viejita.”
Viejita. The way he called her when he brought her to you, tiny, malnourished, and full of fleas. He had found her alone in the streets. Said he had no heart to leave her, but he couldn’t take her home with him. Something about already having fish and cats not being discreet enough. So like the idiot you are you took her with you.
Not like you regretted though. You are pretty sure that tiny black-haired monster has become the love of your life.
“Viejita,” he chuckles softly. “That’s good. I approve it.”
You gasp, shocked. How dare he.
“You have no right.”
This time around he’s the one who seems shocked. After a brief moment, he says in perfect conviction: “Of course I do. I found her. I’m her father.”
“Yeah, you’ve missed half her life, that actually sounds like it.”
The silence rises again and his eyes, god, his eyes are looking at you with an intensity you’ve seen only once before: the night he kissed you. So instead of doing the grown-up thing and facing him once and for all, you do exactly the opposite. You turn around and pretend to be very busy doing literally nothing.
“And how have you been?” He asks a few moments later. Even when you can’t see him you feel his eyes pinned on you. You move things from one side to the other, pretending to organize them when you’re actually doing quite the contrary. You take a mental note to put everything back in its place before your co-worker arrives for her shift.
“I have work to do. Other customers to serve, Jake. Can’t spend the night chatting with you.”
“Yeah, sure, I see that. You’re drowning in orders,” you hear him grumble as you make your way to the table of the smooching couple that just left. They just had coffee and waffles, but you make the most of it taking as much time as you can carrying the mugs to the kitchen. Yet, it still takes too little. By the time you’re back at the counter top, there's still a half-hour of shift left. And Jake is right where you left him, his coffee untouched.
“C’mon bonita, talk to me.”
You had forgotten the power his dark raspy voice has over you, breaking goosebumps all over your body. One more reason to hate your work dress too short everywhere, leaving your arms as exposed as your legs.
“Stop—Stop calling me… things in Spanish, please.”
“But you are bonita. Muy bonita. Preciosa.”
Fuck him, why does it sound so good? You’ll listen to Spanish ASMR tonight. Not having him in mind, of course.
“Well, I don’t like it.”
“Yeah, right. Don’t fight it. I’ve gone that way, too. But is just denial.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He’s doing that thing where the corner of his lips is slightly raised and his eyes shine with mischief. You can’t help yourself. You fall right in.
“What were you in denial of?”
“You.”
Ok, no. Abort. Don’t go that way. Change the subject. Fast.
You fill the air with meaningless sounds until you actually find something to say. “What’s with the new style? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so… so casual.”
He doesn’t smile but you see it in his eyes, your reaction pleased him. But then he crosses his arms and leans back in his seat a little bit, along with a subtle change in his demeanor. Almost defensive, but you’re not sure. “Borrowed.”
“Borrowed?”
“Yeah.”
“Why did you need to borrow them?”
“Circumstances.” He answers with a shrug.
“Ok. And… what have you been up to?”
“Work.”
Single-word answers. A mimic of a response but not actually giving anything away. Keeping himself clean, not exposed, not involved.
“What are you doing, Jake?”
“I’m talking t—”
“No, you are not,” you interrupt him. You see a muscle appear on his cheek. “Why are you here? Why you came back?”
“I came back—came back to you. Didn’t want to leave.”
“But you did. So what does that mean?” You ask defenseless, tired of trying to figure him out.
He opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything at the end. All you get is a head shake and a shrug as an apology. He won’t say anything, he never does.
“Nice talk.”
There are still almost twenty minutes left but you don’t care. The old melancholic man, the only customer besides Jake, is still sipping his coffee. He doesn’t need you.
You go and take your backpack to the bathroom. You’ll change and kill the time in there until your shift ends. But as soon as you close the door it opens again. Jake storms inside, you didn’t even hear his footsteps.
“Jake, what the f—”
“What’s wrong? What changed?” He interrupts you, positioning himself against the door. Blocking any way to escape him, forcing you to face him.
What changed?!
“Please, this isn’t—just…” you pause to take a big breath, putting all your effort into channeling the remaining patience you’ve got left “just leave me alone.”
“Why?” He asks softer than you expected, taking a step closer. But despite the tone, despite the cautious way he's approaching you you can see he’s holding back. You can feel his body tense with restraint.
“Because I want to be alone. I don’t want to be near you right now.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yeah, why?”
Is too fucking small here, this bathroom can barely fit two people. And he’s gotten closer. You can feel the heat emanating out of him. The audacity to come here and perform a little interrogatory when he never answers any of your questions.
“Jake, please—”
“Answer me. Why don’t you want me near you?”
“Please, stop being an—” an asshole, you want to say. A selfish idiot who just takes and doesn’t give anything back. But you don’t. “Just leave.”
“Tell me why.”
That’s it.
“I don’t wanna be near you because you’re being a fucking asshole and I hate assholes and I hate your stupid chair and I hate that you leave only when you want to and not when I ask you to, like when you kissed me and you just fucking left! I hate that you don’t answer any of my questions but you come here expecting me to answer all of yours, and I hate that you are so close to me,” you snap, trying to push him away full force but he doesn’t move an inch. “And I fucking hate you too so get the fuck off m—”
It’s so fast. His hand on the back of your neck is what silences you. He’s suddenly pulling you closer, caging you by taking over your waist with his whole fucking arm. And when you are millimeters from his face his eyes shine with something you can’t quite put your finger on but they immediately change into something primitive and dark, halfway to insane.
And then his mouth is on yours and he’s kissing you. Hard.
All you can feel is him. His scent. The low hum when his tongue invades your mouth. The hand holding the back of your head, the other moving over your back and pushing you towards his torso. All hard muscles and heat. His pulse jumping under your fingertips. His upper thigh between your legs.
Is this how it feels when he loses control? Is this how it feels when you lose control?
It must be. Because for sure you’re not in control of your body right now. Not for the way is pushing back to fit every part of his. Nor for the way you moan when he bites your lower lip. Or for the way your fingers trail down and get into the waistband of his jeans, desperate to feel more of him. The contact makes him shudder and growl into your mouth. But you can’t go any further because he’s suddenly turning you around so fast you barely get to hold your hands into the mirror before completely losing balance. His hands grip your hips, pulling you into him, making you feel the heat of his hardness and punching another pathetic moan out of you.
In response a pleased hum rose in his throat, the sound deep and husky. He slowly raises one hand through your body and wraps it around your throat, bringing you even closer to him. The other hand travels down your thigh. The look in his eyes wild and sharp, almost black when they click back on yours through the mirror's reflection. “Not so desperate to get away from me now, are we muñequita?”
You can’t breathe. Not when his fingertips find the hem of your dress. Not when he lifts it so, so slowly up to your waist. Not when he starts playing with the elastic of your panties. Not when he leans his head over your shoulder to get a better look. Not when he briefly brushes your clit through the fabric. Fuck.
You gasp at the contact. Jake removes his hand as his eyes immediately search for yours over the reflection, the intensity of his gaze as if his life depends on your answer.
“Do you still want me to leave?”
He’s not just asking for confirmation, he’s giving you a way out. If you say yes he will leave just like you said you wanted him two minutes ago. Perhaps he won’t ever show up again and you’ll finally get a chance to get back to your normal life before him. That’s what you should do. But you know won’t. Because whatever your common sense is shouting at you gets pushed back to the background. Too caught up in the way his body feels against yours. Too absorbed in what his next move might be, what his next words might sound like right there next to your ear. But you can't get yourself to recognize any of that out loud, so all you do is shake your head, utterly defeated.
“Mmm, what you want me to do then?”
You take his hand and try to take it back to your pussy but he takes it away before you can’t get any relief. It’s not fair. Instead, he raises his hand to move your head to the side, exposing your throat.
“Too bad. I’m not giving you what you want until you act right,” he says lowly and the baritone goes straight into your core. It’s too hot. You feel too hot. Overheated. There’s a faint sheen on your neck and now he’s licking it and you feel like dying. He lets out a noise that’s halfway between a snort and a laugh. “Months waiting for a fucking chance to get here and once I do you can’t fucking behave yourself. Now how was that? You hate me you say?”
“No. Jake, please,” you whine. Unable to stop yourself.
“No?”
“No,” a mere whisper. You don’t even know what are you answering. Your body wants him so bad isn’t even processing thoughts.
“So you don’t?”
“Jake.”
“You sound so sweet. But I need to hear more, preciosa.”
“Please, Jake, I’m so wet.”
That seems to push a bunch of air out of him. Almost like he couldn't help himself, he moves his head back over your shoulder to watch as pushes the panties to the side with his thumb. His index and middle finger beginning to collect your wetness, the touch so soft you can barely feel it. Torture. Not even close to enough.
“Just fucking touch me already please or I swea—”
The rest of the sentence is muffled as his two fingers fill your mouth, a pinch of something pungent and salty. Your own taste.
“Told you to behave yourself,” he slowly moves his fingers out to your lower lip just to get them back inside to the knuckle. The movement, the words, the tone coaxes a whimper out of you. You’re burning inside out. “Now tell me, does it taste like you hate me? Mmm?”
Before you can even try to answer he turns your head to the side and meets you halfway to kiss you. His hand on your jaw, his tongue dominating yours, his voice raspier when he speaks again. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
He keeps kissing you as he begins to trace the outside of your slit, up and down, up and down. And you feel yourself melting against him. His touch is so smooth and the effect that it has on you is so powerful. And he knows it.
“You just can't get enough of me, can you?”
And then when he finally starts working on your clit you lose it. God, you had no idea. If two of his fucking fingers have made this trembling, needy, overheated mess of you, you better don’t even imagine what he could of you if—No. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking hell, you wish you could even talk but language has left your fucking brain. All you can do is whimper as he keeps talking you through it.
“Does it feel good?”
“You’ve needed this all this time? Needed me?”
“Say it then.”
“Say it. Say that you need me.”
“Say the words, baby.”
“Would you like it better if I fuck them off of you?”
Your body makes a sudden jerk when he stops the movement, demanding an answer. But no matter the state you are in there’s still a little corner of your fogged brain fighting. Fighting for not giving him what he wants, no matter how much you want to. No matter if he’s only asking you to admit what you know is true. His hand finds your jaw and positions your head straight into the mirror, forcing you to look into his eyes through the reflection.
And you give in a little.
“No-o one gets under my skin the way—the way you do,” you manage to say, panting and trembling. Yet, you catch it. As soon as the words leave your mouth his gaze softens. His expression doesn’t seem to change, not anyone could see it. But you can. His eyes look pleased. The storm calms down a bit.
And while you're still spellbound, immobile under his gaze and unaware of anything else but his brown deep eyes he slides two fingers in. The stretch ignites fire from the inside. Your head rolls back into his shoulder as his head falls back into yours.
“Fuck.” The words sound muffled on your neck, low and delirious. “Fuck, baby. Those pretty little noises you’re making will haunt me till my last living night.”
You can already feel it. The way your muscles tense, the way your pussy is squeezing his fingers. So close, so close, so close, so fucking close. And then—
A knock on the door. Your co-worker is calling up your name.
Jake slips his fingers out and takes a step back. The movement sinks down into your stomach. Is he regretting it? Will he disappear again just like last time?
“I–I’ll be there in a minute,” you pronounce as clearly as you can, hoping she won’t notice the tremble in your voice.
Slowly, you come back to your senses. Your legs barely hold you up. A minute goes by and he still doesn’t say anything. You take your jeans and put them on. Deep down you already knew it. This doesn’t changes anything. He won’t let you in. And you’ve got enough of it.
“I don’t unders—All these months I’ve been so worried, and confused, and angry at you. And on top of that, I missed you so much that I even got tired of it. Physically tired of it. But you know what the worst part was? The more time you spend in my head the more I realized I don’t know anything about you. I barely know your first name. And you, somehow, managed to get any stupid little detail of me out in the clear and that makes it even—”. You finish taking off your dress and you put on your shirt. He's looked at you through the mirror throughout the whole process, his eyes dark and stormy again. You close your backpack and turn to face him. “The point is even this ridiculous little 30-second monologue of me being honest about how I feel it’s more than anything you’ve told me about you. I don’t know you, Jake. I’m not the one who needs to act right. And whatever this is,” you say pointing between the two of you, “is over.”
He’s taking deep breaths, his body tense, restrained once more. Controlled. With a last look in his eyes, you recognize what you couldn’t get your finger on earlier on. It’s vulnerability. But after a few blinks it’s deep down hidden again.
You think he might stop you once you open the door and walk away, but he doesn’t.
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Sorry if I tagged you and you only wanted to be tagged in the I wanna be yours series! I'll be posting very soon there. Please let me know if you don't want to be tagged in part two of The Limo Driver so I can remove you! <3
Also I don't remember who started calling Jake fancanon cat Viejita but please all credit to them!
#jake lockely smut#jake lockely x reader#jake lockely x you#moon knight fanfiction#marc spector x reader#marc spector#moon knight#steven grant x reader#steven grant#moon knight x reader#jake lockley x reader#jake lockley#steven grant x you#steven grant fluff#moon knight imagines#steven grant smut#mcu moon knight#moon knight smut#jake lockley fluff
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Hello, I'd like to request a comfort / fluff fanfic mainly with xiao but you can add other characters, but hopefully xiao
Gn!reader is insecure with their ability to fall in love with people because they feel as though their emotional qualities are lacking (feeling like they'd never be able to?) and because they're fearful, they end up avoiding xiao for some time but he manages to pick up on the avoidance but still is confused, so he tries to understand what's going on despite the inexperience
Gn!reader gets comforted but afraid, but xiao does his best to reassure them in his very xiao-like ways (confused at first on what to do, reluctantly patting gn!reader's head, ending up saying words that still sound quite in character but still comforting)
I think that would be nice, I hope that makes sense, thank you! Not forced
⊰ i could never choose to love another.
🎐「 xiao. hurt/comfort 」
dreamscape. emotionally insecure? that’s okay; that doesn’t mean your boyfriend will love you any less.
memory zone. self-esteem issues, emotional insecurity, implications of past ‘i love you’s being a lie?, reader is scared, avoiding communication (at first), doubting feelings, angst, eventual comfort, xiao is trying his best as per usual.
memokeeper musings. (nonnie do you have cameras set up in my room /j) this has been sitting in my inbox for almost two week im so sorry nonnie JAJFJGJKDH also how we likin the new format??? 🥹 @soleillunne!!
It’s always been hard for you to identify feelings, much less express them outright. Well, the more complex ones that can’t be explained through one sentence alone. Perhaps after so long, the lines between ‘genuine’ and ‘fake’ started to blur, leaving but only a hollow trace of confusion. You weren’t sure when it started, for most of your past memories are hazy, at best.
‘I love you’s were always few and far between in your relationship with Xiao. That didn’t immediately signify that this was a loveless relationship— quite the contrary actually, but the man saves those three sacred words for moments of pure serenity, tranquility, and intimacy.
But as for you, well, it was a rather… perplexing situation, to say the least. In short, you were terrified. Terrified of the words ‘I love you’ ending up being yet another fabrication of your emotions, as it had once been in the past long before you met him. And if it was… you’d never be able to forgive yourself; Xiao loves you honestly and earnestly, and to realize that you hadn’t been genuine with how you feel would be devastating for him and for you.
…You couldn’t take that risk; in your eyes, Xiao deserved so much better. So, in order to protect him from yourself, you had to push him away, before you could get the chance to hurt him more than he already is. Was it truly the right decision, though…?
Now you’d been visiting Wangshu Inn less and less, and interaction between the two of you was scarce— normally, Xiao would’ve understood; you had your own matters to attend to just as he does, after all. But this time felt different. Off. It felt like… like it was done deliberately. Had he done something to upset you? He didn’t think that was it, Xiao was always making an effort to be mindful and considerate around you.
Were you in a bad mood? He recalled that there are times where you’d avoid interaction when angered or when the people around you pushed you too far; but in the end, you still confided in him about the source of your irritation and frustration after awhile. Xiao was not a particular expert in comforting others, but he knew how to listen.
More questions led to more logical conclusions that didn’t quite explain your recent apparent avoidance. You were completely fine around your circle of friends, so why was it only him that you avoided like the plague? Is he doing something wrong or was there something wrong with him? Were you… getting tired of him, distancing yourself from him until it grows far too wide? Did you realize that he wasn’t the most optimal choice of partner…? Was this really it?
‘…No. Cease making your worries grow by the second. Pull yourself together. Confront them.’ Xiao internally berated himself and attempted to shake off that invasive way of thinking, but the thoughts still lingered in the back of his mind. If… If there was truly a chance you no longer wanted this relationship… at least you’d be able to communicate.
“X—Xiao!?”
Sharp amber eyes looked into yours, hands on both sides of your head resting on the wall behind you, leaving little room to escape. Xiao had affectively trapped you between him and the wall. Now, he would thought of other methods to confront you, but you slithered away from his grasp each time with nothing but a shallow excuse, so you really left him no other choice.
“You have been avoiding me. Not anyone else, not your friends, but I, your partner. Why?” His gaze softened, tilting his head slightly as his eyes peered into yours. He didn’t want to make you feel pressured or uncomfortable in this current situation; that’s the last thing Xiao wants for you.
“I— I’ve just been—” “Do not lie to me. Do not hit me with the ‘busy’ excuse; it will work no longer,” He promptly cut you off. Xiao’s tone came off a tad sharper than he’d like when speaking to you, but he needed to get his point across. When he was met with no response from you, he sighed softly; “am I… doing something wrong? I told you to inform me beforehand if I am, no? So… tell me, please.”
“No, no! It’s not you— there’s nothing wrong with you, Xiao,” That ‘please’ caught you off-guard, to say the very least; “it’s… me.”
Xiao, at first, was relieved to know that he hadn’t hurt you enough in some form to warrant you avoiding his presence. He straightened his posture a little more as his hands slid down the wall, stopping just above your shoulders. At those last two words, he raised a confused brow; “You? Please elaborate.”
You were hesitant, but it wasn’t fair to keep Xiao in the dark after he bore his heart open to you, and only you. No one else. So, with too much to lose, you did the same. From how you felt emotionally inadequate, to the fear you felt of your love being but a measly fabrication of your mind to trick your heart. In the safe confines of your bedroom, you poured your heart out to him.
Xiao listened intently, feelings of guilt creeping up his own heart — he should’ve noticed this sooner — but never did he once interrupt. No matter how much his heart ached. Because despite how it was hard for him to hear this, he understood that it was even harder for you to say. By the end of it, you two were seated on your bed, and once you were finished explaining, his hand slowly moved to intertwine itself with yours.
His other hand gently pulled you in closed in a half-hug, your head resting on his shoulder. “…Is this okay?” You nodded. Even after all this time, he still asks for your consent whenever he is the initiating physical contact instead of the other way around.
“I… sincerely apologize for not realizing how you feel. I am unsure if you have noticed, but I have. I have always felt your love each and every moment that we spend with one another. It is raw, unconditional, real, genuine. That is just a fact that has been made known to me for so long. Therefore, even though you may think that I deserve better, I truly do not share that sentiment; you are the one for me. I could never choose to love another.”
© www-brontide 2024 — do not steal, plagiarize, or repost onto another platform without my explicit permission.
#( memory bubble )#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#xiao x reader comfort#xiao x reader fluff#xiao fluff#xiao comfort#xiao angst#hurt/comfort#genshin comfort#genshin impact xiao#xiao gi#xiao x you#xiao x y/n
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decades ⋆ reiner braun
content & warnings: fem!reader, canon verse, set around the beginning of marley arc, mentions of sex work (reader works at marleyan brothel, soooo original ik 🙄), reiner has depression, PTSD & suicidal thoughts in this so if this triggers you i advise you not to read, conflict, slut shaming, angst.
author’s note: this is depressing, as is the majority of canon verse aot fics.
part two here
word count: 3.7k
Reiner has had this reoccurring dream ever since his confrontation with the Survey Corps four years ago.
In this dream, his Titan has been beaten down mercilessly and his body is exposed. The dream is all too vivid. The steam stings his eyes he feels them prickle with tears.
Then vultures circle him, tauntingly. They swoop down and tear his flesh relentlessly. He's frozen. He wants to let out a scream but no noise comes out.
He is thrust back into reality, waking up with a gasp, sweat trickling down his forehead and chest heaving. The dream never goes any further than that.
He looks around the dark room, trying to differentiate between dream and reality. The problem is, the nightmare itself isn't too far off from his experience that day.
Dead man walking, that’s how he would describe himself.
He had no will to live. However, at certain times when thrust into battle, he came alive and was instantly a live wire. His suicidal ideation faded away during combat.
Since returning to Marley and being shrouded as some sort of war hero, even nicknamed "Marley's shield", he joined the other soldiers on their excursions.
Reiner never knew who he truly was.
When with the boisterous, raucous Marleyan soldiers on their off time in the taverns and brothels, he was one of the boys.
There were glimmers of pride and the acceptance he never had as a child whenever he felt a slap on his back, a squeeze on his shoulder with a hearty laugh.
The validation he never had as a child.
But when the moment ended, he felt awful. Despite his belief that he was a horrible person, plagued with turmoil, he knew that he did not share the same values as those soldiers.
As he entered the bar, the air was thick with the scent of cigar smoke. With the smell filling the whole room. The smoke was heavy and lingering, creating a haze that hung in the atmosphere.
He walked off from the other soldiers and headed towards the bar to drink. In all honesty, he preferred the company of Gabi, Falco and the kids rather than the soldiers.
He was dragged out of his thoughts when an intoxicating fresh scent, the complete opposite wafted towards him.
Scents are not something Reiner pays attention to, however it grabbed his attention after being on the battlefield for weeks.
His lungs thick with smoke and gunpowder, choking on the acrid stench of explosives. The sweat and dirt from the soldiers who had been fighting for hours.
But he could’ve handled all of that, what pushed him to the edge was the blood and flesh, burning flesh. The blood was nauseating.
The sweet smell belonged to you.
He had to pinch himself when his eyes settled on you. You noticed him gaping at you and gave him a wink, heading further into the crowd.
"That one is one hell of a minx." One of the soldiers guffawed as he slapped Reiner's back when he noticed him ogling you, causing Reiner to wince. "Give her a try."
Reiner stared at the man in shock. However, when your eyes met once again, he was oddly enthralled by your aura.
He pushed his way through the crowded bar, determined not to lose you amongst the people.
"Excuse me, Miss..? May I speak to you for a moment?"
Your back was still turned, as you heard his firm and deep voice. It was difficult to ignore.
You eventually stopped in your tracks, turning to face him as your eyes raked over him, with a snort.
"Now…what would Marley's Shield want with me..?" You questioned, raising a brow at him.
He cringed at the nickname.
"Marley's Shield my ass." He thought to himself, as that particular nightmare flickered through his mind, causing him to shake his head in an attempt to disperse those images.
"You don't need to call me that.." He replied, with a wry laugh. "It's kind of douchey."
"So what do I call you?" You questioned.
"Just...Reiner." He responded.
"Okay, just Reiner. You come here often?" You said with a sultry smile.
"Depends." He said. "You see me around here?"
"Nope. I'd definitely remember such a handsome face..." You said, as you leaned across the bar and reached out to stroke his cheek.
A slow smile began to build on his face as he felt your dainty hand.
“You’re forward, aren’t you?” He replied, as he met her eyes properly.
“Part of the profession.” You remarked. “We on the same page, just Reiner?”
The tavern and brothel were in the same building. The rooms where the ladies brought whoever paid for their service were upstairs.
Reiner kept his hands to himself the entirety of the walk, which you noticed. Most of the soldiers would grope and grab at you even before you were out of the bar.
His lips were pursed, you wondered if he was ashamed. He didn't seem like a man who liked things like this, but that would be a naive statement. Considering the nature of men.
"Pretty...nice." He remarked, surveying the rich velvet carpets and golden fixtures. "How is this the same building as the bar..?"
"Yeah...Madam is particular about the interior." You replied with a half smile reminiscing on her giving a verbal lashing to the barkeep about the state of the building.
You pushed open the door of the room.
A lot of buildings in Marley are the same. Especially the internment zone. People were lucky to even have a bed and a desk, however, Reiner had never seen such luxury like this in his life.
Jaw slightly agape at the delicate and elegant furniture and the pale blues, pinks, and whites. The bed had lace and ruffles.
He shut the door behind him as you lit the candle.
"You like..?" You giggled at him gazing around the room in awe.
"I never been in a fancy pants place like this before.." He said, lowly as he stalked up to you. You drew a sharp intake of breath as Reiner towered over you.
His expression was serious and intense, with his eyes sharp and focused on you.
"Looks can be deceiving.." You said in a hushed tone as you slid your hands underneath the fabric to push off his trench coat and let it clatter to the ground.
He didn't miss the way you eyed the red armband.
"You think so..?" He replied, intrigued by your statement.
"Yeah.." You said, as your fingers made their way to undo the collar buttons of his dress shirt. "She makes it all fancy...as if that hides the horrors of what goes on in most of these rooms."
He grabbed your wrist before you undid the button that was up to his navel. His eyes widened and his brows furrowed as the only thing he could muster out was your name.
"That's...not gonna happen here. I promise." He said voice determined, earning a giggle from you. "What's funny?"
"It's sweet." You hummed, pulling away from his grip to continue undressing him. The flame of the candle illuminated the room with a warm glow.
You felt your mouth unconsciously water when the flame highlighted Reiner’s muscle definition.
The veins in his arms and neck stood out prominently as you traced them gently with your forefinger causing him to shudder gently.
“You’re really hard to resist.” He said with a dark chuckle as you pushed him to sit on the bed.
“It’s a part of my charm.” You grinned. You began to press your lips against the sensitive surface of his neck and he froze.
This wasn’t something unusual, however with Reiner. Something felt off. Regardless, you pushed him on his back to continue your actions but he seemed to be…nervous.
You couldn’t do it like this. So you pulled yourself off, sitting on your knees on the mattress as your eyebrows pinched together.
"Reiner...have you done this before..?"
"What?! Of course I have!" He shot back offended at what you were insinuating as a flush crept across his cheeks.
"With who..?"
Busted.
He began to stumble over his words, attempting to create a believable sexual encounter but as you gazed at him, looking ethereal in the pale moonlight he gave up mid-sentence.
"You must think I'm pathetic."
"For being a virgin? No." You said gently as you stroked his cheek.
"I...I'm not less of a man to you?" He asked, shocked by your nonchalance.
"I could care less about that. Image...that's something important to you, Reiner. Isn't it?" You asked with a lilt in your voice.
"I thought image means a lot to everybody.." He responded, confused by your statement.
"Eh. To a certain degree. When it starts making you pretend to be somebody you're not I guess that's where it becomes a problem."
"You don't have to do this." You said.
"But what if I want to..?"
"Just figured...people usually want to keep their virginity for somebody they love." You said.
Reiner thought about it for a moment.
The only person he thought he loved was Historia.
And in his mind, hell would've frozen over before he could ever see her again.
"Usually? So what do the other people do?" He asked, curiously. You shook your head with a chuckle.
As he sat on the edge of the bed, you looked at him again. You would've never thought that the large and bulky handsome man had this naivety and innocence.
It was genuinely endearing to you.
"They don't care I suppose. It's just something people do as a gratification thing. Get it out of their system."
Reiner recalled some conversations had by the older soldiers in the trenches. It was like a game to them.
"...I don't want to do that." He whispered.
"Huh?"
"Oh...I said that out loud, huh?" He shook his head.
"Yeah.." You snickered. "What don't you want to do?"
"I don't want...to be like them."
"Reiner, who is them?"
"The guys I came in with." He began as he wrinkled his nose in disgust. "They...it's like a control thing for them."
"Yeah...you hit on the nail on the head with that one. They barge in here and don't even take a moment to realise that we have feelings...and thoughts. I doubt they even see us as people."
"But...I want to...I really want to..." He spoke gently as his tongue darted out to lick his lips and his light brown eyes softened. "Do...you want me? Am I enough for you?"
"Do you think you're not enough..?" You questioned.
He lowered his gaze and let out a sigh.
"Have you had your first kiss too?"
He groaned your name and buried his face in his hands.
"Okay, okay!" You giggled. "Look, you didn't have time for any of that. I promise it's not a bad thing..but...is there anybody who caught your eye...and who you wanted to kiss?" You grinned.
"I suppose so."
"Well, what happened?"
"She...loved another. And.."
He trailed off when he realised he was veering into confidential information.
"Yeah."
"Aw...seems like Reiner had an unrequited love." You said, gently as you tilted his chin up with a forefinger. "Would you like to kiss me, Reiner?"
His posture immediately straightened as he met your eyes, glimmering.
"It's all I've been thinking about since I saw you across the bar."
"I appreciate the enthusiasm." You chuckled. "May I be your first kiss..?"
"...Really?" He breathed out.
"I shouldn't say this...but I was thinking about that when I first saw you too.." You grinned. He immediately tensed up.
You held his arms and chuckled.
"Reiner, just relax..." You said biting your lip to stifle your laughter. "You don't need to pout, just be natural. I'll take the lead."
"Don't laugh..!" He whined as he felt the tips of his ears heat up.
"I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you! It's just...cute."
"I'm not cute..!" He protested.
"Sulking is not gonna help you beat the cute allegations." You snorted. "Close your eyes."
He followed your instruction without argument, and you waited for a beat of silence. You then took his strong jaw in your hands to gently brush your lips against his in a chaste manner.
When you pulled away, his eyes remained shut but you could see his eyelids twitching slightly.
"Reiner.." You called out softly.
"Oh. Is that all?"
"Hey! I was tryna be gentle. If I shoved my tongue down your throat you wouldn't have liked it." You argued, you then patted his thigh.
"But if you really want it. You can’t be the only one half-naked. Mhm?” You said as you turned your back to him.
He gave you a nod, understanding what you wanted.
"So beautiful.." He breathed in awe, as he undid the buttons of the corset.
"I've been told." You snorted, you were happy you were facing away from him, so he wouldn't see the giddy smile on your face.
You were a sucker for a compliment, especially from such a devastatingly handsome man like Reiner.
"I'll be gentle with you." You beamed, stroking his cheek.
"If it's like that first kiss, then no thank you."
"REINER!" You squeaked. "I was trying to-"
"I know, you were trying to go easy on me. But I didn't like it."
He never entered the bar anymore after that first night. He stood outside like a madman waiting for you to yank him indoors.
And as much as you expressed your irritation with it, you did it regardless. He was starting to appear more anxious whenever you spoke. Nothing like the man you met in the bar that one night.
You stormed outside and glared at him.
"Reiner." You hissed.
"I don't want you to think I only see you as a... you know..." He was getting extremely flustered, a deep crimson blush spreading across his cheeks. “Let’s leave, I’ll take you away from all of this..”
Your eyes slit as you took in his statement.
"Reiner." You finally spoke, voice barely an octave. "You're delusional."
He stared right back at you as if you were the one who lost your mind. He'd never been told that before.
You felt like you kicked a puppy with the look he gave you, so you dragged him to one of the rooms.
He looked pale and it seemed like he was gonna throw up. As you sat on the edge of your bed, waiting for him he just kept staring at his trembling hands with choked gasps.
“Come here..” You instructed.
He slowly sank to his knees and lowered his head onto your lap. At first, you tensed up. You had no clue why he did that. But feeling him rest against you, there was a pang in your stomach.
Your hands gingerly reached out to stroke the side of his face then you began to gently scrape your nails against his scalp. His body shuddered slightly and he let out a content sigh, his large hands bunching the fabric of your dress.
He thinks back on his life and realises nobody touched him like that before.
You pause from dragging your nails and settle a palm on the nape of his neck, fingers threading through the tufts of his featherlight blond hair.
You could've sworn you hear him choke out a sob.
"What's the matter..?" You asked softly, hand still on his neck.
He lifted his head to meet your eyes, as he gasped for breath, each inhalation a struggle against the suffocating grasp of despair.
His chest heaved with the weight of unspoken words and unshed tears, and a guttural sob escaped his lips, tearing through the silence like a wounded animal's cry.
"Reiner, breathe." You said, eyebrows knitting together in concern at his reaction.
You immediately sat up from the bed, and he tugged onto your dress harder as if he was trying to stop you from walking away.
His breathing was shallow as he called out your name.
"Don't go, please.."
"I'm not going anywhere." You reassured, helping him to stand from his knees to guide him to sit on the bed. "Now tell me what's wrong."
You sat beside him and slipped your small hand into his large, calloused one. The skin was dry and worn out from his battles. As your slender fingers interlocked with his, you felt a few healing scabs across his palm.
Your words seeped into his mind.
"What's the matter?"
As far as Reiner could think back, nothing was ever normal.
He coughed out when he remembered the metallic taste of the rifle in his mouth and saw the faces.
Of his loved ones.
He was nothing but a fraud in his eyes. Yet he was their hero.
Soon, it began to become a cycle. Reiner arrives. Reiner has a bit much to drink. You don't want to sleep with him in his inebriated state, so you let him lay on the bed and stroke his hair. He talks about his past.
The cycle was beginning to weigh down on you, whenever he began the tirade on his mother you felt your eyebrows furrow and let out an exasperated sigh.
He never bashed her. But he indirectly blamed her.
And then one day, you snapped. This time, he wasn't drunk. He was on a few sips.
"Your mother is not a good person."
It was meant to be a statement. But it came out so harsh, laced with venom, you regret it the instant it came out of your mouth.
Reiner was used to you not saying much.
But the vitriol in the sentence blew him away, so much so, the glass of bourbon slipped from his hand and shattered onto the wooden floor.
His pupils were blown wide with alarm.
"What...did you just say..?" He finally spoke, voice shaky.
Even if you regret the way it came out, you had to say it.
"I said your mother is not a good person, Reiner." You replied, voice haughty. "You've been coming here for almost a month now, I listen to you. The verdict is that your problems lead back to her."
"You-"
His words were stuck in his throat and felt as if they were choking him.
"You are not a sin for being born. Neither is she. She should've told you that. Not make you think you had to repent for something you had nothing to do with." You said tersely as your arms folded.
"And what the hell do you know?!" He bellowed. "You're...you're just a dumb broad from a whore house!"
Another wave of shock hit Reiner when he registered what he said to you.
You nodded in a bemused way a few times with a bitter smile.
"Maybe so, Reiner. But I can tell you something..." You leaned in closer to his ear. "I don't delude myself the way you do. I know what I am, I could care less. Do you know what you truly are..?"
Then you spoke and said something that tore through him and hurt more than any slash.
"You...are...a...pawn, Reiner. You're disposable."
He stood outside the tavern despite it being daytime. He had rushed out of the room away that night. As far as his feet could take him.
Yet he always found his way back to you, lately.
The girls began to tease, about Reiner being your lover. You had to qualms about it in the beginning, since you had a soft spot for him.
But after that argument, you lashed out at one of the girls and marched off.
You gazed outside the window as you saw him standing outside, helplessly.
He barely smiled. His face was always weary.
"You are not a sin for being born."
Reiner swallowed thickly as his eyes begin to prickle with tears. There was nothing more he wanted than to sink to his knees for forgiveness. He couldn't even have used the drunk excuse.
You headed outside to confront him.
"You need to stop coming here." You said after you shoved him with force.
"I'm in love with you. Please.." He babbled, words clashing together. "I can't live without you, why can't you understand that..?”
"Well. It's not like either one of us lied. You are a pawn and disposable. And I am a broad from a whore house. I'm not dumb though."
"Of course you're not..." He frustratedly let out a groan and clutched at his head. "Y/N PLEASE! I don't know what I was thinking, really..! What can I do to make it up to you..?!"
"You really want to make it up to me...?" You asked, gently. You looked up at him and settled a palm on the nape of his neck.
He nodded eagerly.
"Anything, I'll do anything."
"Reiner...go and fuck yourself."
"I can't let you go. Please. I-"
"No, you don't." You said curtly.
"How did you know what I was going to say?"
"You Marleyan soldiers are all the damn same. Do you think I haven't heard an 'I love you' after one of 'em wallows in self-pity? I've heard your story a dozen times before." You replied. "I won't take back what I said about your mother or you."
"I don't care anymore! You were right, just don't walk away from me. You say you've heard it before but I'm not making things up. I love you...I'll do anything for you. When I'm by your side in that bed, I'm a free man. Your warmth and your touch..."
"Free yourself. From being a pawn. That's what you can do for me. Do that and I'll forgive you."
You turned on your heel and began to march off, arms folded against your chest. It was taking everything within you not to start bawling like a newborn.
But you had to let him go. For his own sake.
"HOW CAN I DO THAT...?!" He exclaimed as he felt his heart shatter for the dozenth time.
"Deep down he knows." You said to yourself internally as your back was against the door, watching your vision blur and tears splatter across the wooden planking.
author’s note: you can take reiner freeing himself when he joined paradis island folks🗿 also sorry for makin him say that rude ass shiet to reader😭 sawry for any spelling n grammar mistakes im tide man
#aot x reader#reiner braun#reiner braun x reader#reiner braun x y/n#reiner braun x female reader#aot x female reader#aot x y/n#aot angst#reiner braun angst#reiner angst#⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ nara scribbles
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How special is reader actually in Just Friends? im dying i’m so jealous 😭
Welll my dear!
König in this fic is a bit of a nympho. There's just no denying it. This man gets high on killing and he gets high on sex...
...which is why he hasn't been exactly what one would call a chaste, proper gentleman, and why he has some experience. Because even with that crazy pervy attitude there's always people who want to bang this giant (not side-eyeing anyone here in this room or myself in the mirror or anything like that).
So yes, this man has tried to get pussy since day one, and because he is what he is, hasn't gotten but a crumb or two (just imagine the growing fury and bitterness of this man, who looks like a god but is a demon inside, when he doesn't get what he needs 🙄). This poor lunatic has done his all to get anything he can ‐ which is close to nothing but just enough to bless him with the knowledge of the location of clitoris. Now this sounds pretty desperate, right? It is. I mean, this guy probably has a sex toy or two in his room (probably takes a portable fleshlight on longer missions too, JFC) because he's just never satisfied and women generally avoid him like the plague.
But when it comes to reader... Let's start by saying that König has never stalked anyone like that (lmao what a compliment!). Also he is true to his word in that he has never stolen another lady's underwear before. He's just that crazy about the reader. He tries his all to be more civil so he doesn't blow it with her, while at the same time, he's losing his fucking mind (so innocent and sweet and looking at him and his pretty knives like that?? He simply can't handle that shit).
Also the inherent and learned sexism in this man makes him think women shouldn't go to war because it's not *proper* and he would never even think of gifting a weapon to a lady, let alone one of his precious knives. Even showing his collection is too much – it's equal to baring his soul to someone.
But reader? She gets multiple invites to his crazy man cave full of weapons. Also, taking her to the range, letting her play with his big guns is not only a super special treat but also a sign of König being head.over.heels. for her.
Without knowing it, König has always searched for that special someone to be crazy with. And reader is the first to elicit any real feelings in him, tbh. That's a huge deal. Like he said in the end, he would do anything for her. Also instead of a fleshlight he now carries reader's panties in his pocket on missions. Calls them his lucky charm, too.
And sex with reader gains almost a spiritual level as we see at the end of chapter 4. It's not just sex anymore. Aftercare and cuddles are something this man has pretty much avoided, has been a bit 'meh' about, but with reader it all comes naturally because he wants to take care of her. He can't keep his paws off because she's so adorable and squishable.
And the reason why he tried to leave reader alone after days of trying to woo her back? Not because he dropped her like a toy that's not working anymore, but because he actually respected and loved her so much he didn't want to hurt her. (Also I'm staying with my hc that König is someone who tells a person he loves them after they've known each other for like two weeks. Cringe, but cute.)
I don't know if this cured any jealousy or made it worse 🥲 but trust me when I say reader is incredibly special 💘
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Lost and Found ♧| 2.
Leon S. Kennedy x reader (ft. my girl Ash)
A/N: This... this took me so long lmao I rewrote it like five times. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, though! I don't really write slow burn, so this might suck. I wanna apologize for how fucking wonky the events of Part one are???? They're all out of order lmao anyway, Enjoy!
~Fi 🪻
Warnings: swearing, reader is an idiot (lovingly, of course), mention of a small injury, sucky slow burn
Word count: 2.7k
Check out part one here!
Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.
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It had been a couple of months since Spain happened. Your life has definitely... changed. Both good and bad. You were plagued by nightmares frequently, instinctively grasping your arm every time you shot awake. A faint, pink scar had formed where the gash once sat. Tracing it absent mindedly was a common occurrence ever since the first dream. You'd stare at the blank wall in your living room, gently caressing it.
That mission took a toll on you, so you were granted a few months off to work through your night terrors and process everything. Ashley had been a great help with that. She made sure you hung out at least once a week and always stayed in contact, calling you and you calling her. The events of Spain didn't leave Ashley without any struggles either. But, she had assured you that she was save, protected at all times and getting support from professionals. Talking to her, about Spain or anything really, helped you get out of the hole you were in.
She was your best friend. Whether or not she knew it, she really was. You didn't really have friends. Not since Raccoon City. You stayed inside your dull little home the last few years, working a boring office job for the government. Your only friend had been Dave, a middle-aged man who worked in the security department. So you rotted away for years, mourning your past life. Your past you.
Honestly, you have no idea how you ended up as a special agent in the first place. Your police background increased your chances at scoring the position, but you didn't really have much experience. When you were offered the 'promotion', you didn't think too much of it. Couldn't be that hard, could it? You'd survived Raccoon City after all.
You were so wrong. You basically traded the mediocre lunch breaks you had with Dave, with running for your life from Zombies. Bad fucking trade. And the worst part, your officials didn't give a shit. They just wanted this to be dealt with as discretely as possible. End of the story, they underestimated how big this whole thing actually was, and now you were the one left with the shitty consequences. But you had Ashley! And Leon, of course, but that was a little more complicated.
You still hadn't gotten around to the promise of getting drinks together. He was going away on missions all the time, so although you kept in touch no matter what, he wasn't there. You thought, after some excruciating years, you had found your best friend again. Your person. And you did, but he was so close yet so out of reach. You couldn't take it anymore. You lost 7 whole years with him, and you finally had him back, but he was still gone.
"I don't know what to do, Ash." You sighed, playing with your shirt while you held the phone to your ear.
"Well, have you told him that? I'm sure he wants to spend more time with you too, but you need to tell him that!" She urged. Biting your lip, you hestitated.
"I just... he was my best friend. We did everything together, and now.. I know that it's him but I don't recognize him. He's.. different now. I thought he didn't change, but.. he did. That scares me. What scares me even more is the fact that he's always on my mind, I can't seem to function without him here. I only think about him. 24/7." You mumbled into the phone.
"Sounds a whole lot like you're in love with him."
"I- what? No! I mean, of course I love him, he's my best friend, but that's it. He's just my friend and you can love your friends, right? Like, everyone does, it's not something odd or anything." you rambled.
Sure, your heart lit a flame every time he smiled, and the sound of his laugh was heaven. His dumb jokes never failed to put a smile on your face but that's just how friends are. Yes. Totally. Friends feel like that. Just some regular friendly feelings.
"You're so oblivious! That's NOT how friends feel about eachother. Like ever. I've seen the way you look at him!" She argued. "What look? I don't look at him differently... do I?"
"Yes, you do. Everytime he's near you, that lovesick smile on your face kinda gives it away. Or the blush when he asks if you're okay. Not to mention how you panic when he gets hurt. Just admit it!" Ashley whined.
"I'm not in love with him, Ashley! He's my best friend, that's it!" You argued. She groaned into the phone. "I can't believe you're so smart yet so stupid." She said, clearly annoyed. "Rude." you mumbled.
"I have to go now, Miss Denial. Seriously though, you're not doing yourself a favor by denying your feelings." She said softly. You rolled your eyes and huffed.
"Would it make you feel better if I told you I'll think about it?"
"Definitely. Love you!" She beamed.
"Love you too." You chuckled as she hung up. Maybe you would think about it. If not for yourself, then for her. She was right about suppressing your feelings but about you being in love with Leon... you weren't sure.
Eh, that was a problem for the future you. For now, all you wanted to do was enjoy some drinks with him.
Your teeth gnawed at your lip, trying to decided how to go about this situation. Do you call Leon now? Tomorrow, maybe? Should you call him at all? You hadn't talked to eachother in a while... would it be awkward? Before you can lend any more attention to those thoughts, your phone rang and it was none other than Leon. Speak of the devil. You picked up, your heart racing.
"Hey... look, I'm sorry for not calling more, work s'just been busy. I.. Do you want to go for those drinks I promised tonight?" He sounded nervous. Unsure. He sounded so much like the Leon you knew. Your Leon. Maybe he hadn't changed that much after all. "Y-yeah, I'd love that. Um- how does eight sound?" You responded, a little more nervous than you wanted to. "Sounds good. See you." And with that, he hung up.
Something's up with him. Your brows furrowed. Maybe he worked more to get his mind off Spain? He was a workaholic, trying to do more and more and not realizing how much it actually affected him. He was hurting himself by trying to protect others from harm. Maybe it's just the stress. You had plenty of time to question him at the bar, supported by a few Piña Coladas.
A couple of hours before, the anxiety hit you like a truck. It was safe to say that you were scared out of your mind right now. How the fuck were you supposed to talk to Leon like nothing was going on? Like nothing happened? You couldn't. And after that conversation with Ashley? Nope. No chance. Panic was bubbling up your throat. You felt like you could never face him again. Everytime you looked at him, or even thought of him, it was just pain. The pain of the building collapsing on top of you. Your pained cries when you realized he hadn't come back for you. The pain when you thought he was dead. The pain that if Ashley was right and you really were in love with him, you could lose him again.
He made your world bright and vibrant and when he was ripped from your grasp, you were lost in a sea of grey. Drowning. Desperately gasping for air, refusing to let the water in. Now, he had brought the color back to your life but all the vibrant hues made your head spin and your eyes hurt. You grew comfortable in your sea of grey. Embracing the cold kiss of the water filling your lungs, making you float peacefully.
Could you let the color back into your world? Could you pull yourself from the tide and cough up the water? Did you even want to? You didn't know. It was all too much. You were pulled out of your head when you dropped your glass of water. You were so consumed in your thoughts and anxieties that it had just slipped out of your hand. Carefully cleaning it up, you felt a sharp sting in your finger.
You had accidentally cut yourself on the broken glass shards. A small stream of blood was running down your finger and along your palm. A drop of blood hit the puddle of water, and it bloomed in red. You haven't felt like this in years. You could actually feel something. It's not like you didn't you feel the last seven years, but your soul was too numb to care. You actually felt something. Not like those times when you hit your head or nicked yourself while cooking. You would react relatively neutral to those incidents, but now... you could feel the burn of the cut, a searing sting in your skin. A small smile tugged at your lips.
It's because of him. Because you had him back, and he made you feel alive again. He had just stumbled into your life and turned it upside down. Like he always does. But you wouldn't want to have it any other way. God, how you had missed feeling like this. So vulnerable. So sensitive. So human.
You cleaned up the glass but hung on to the feeling of the cut. You didn't like it per se, but it made you feel like something inside you had been fixed. A missing puzzle piece that slotted right into place. It just felt so right.
Just like he did. You shook your thoughts, having the habit of spiraling, wether it may be good or bad, and continued on with your afternoon. Your nerves about spending time with Leon calmed, it was just Leon! Your best friend. You had nothing to worry about. Well, with Leon, usually there was at least a little something to be worried about.
You were out the door, into the night, on your way to Leon. You had decided to just walk there since parking was an absolute nightmare in this city. Besides, the fresh air in your lungs and cooling breeze on your face was something you hadn't felt in a while. Fumbling with a small box in your pocket, you continued to the bar you two had agreed to meet up at. It wasn't really a present, more something you wanted to return. You never thought you could.
You took a deep breath before stepping into the warmth of the bar. Your eyes were searching for Leon, looking for that familiar blonde head of hair. Spotting him in the back, an inevitable smile crept onto your face. When Leon noticed you, his face lit up, a hand reaching up to signal you over to him. He stood up when you approached and immediately pulled you into a tight hug.
"Hey." He mumbled, muffled by your hair. "Hi." You said, the joy in your voice evident. The first real hug in seven years. You could've melted on the spot. It felt so good. So right.
You reluctantly pulled away, smiling at him. "Wow... It's been a while, huh?" He said with a small laugh. "Yeah.." you responded with a chuckle. You sat down and ordered your drinks. "So.. what have you been up to? How have you been?" You asked. He pondered for a moment. "Not a lot to be honest. Worked a lot, you know, saved the world once or twice." He joked at which you just playfully rolled your eyes.
"What about you?"
"I uh... I adopted a dog. Her name is Lady, she's a Bernese mountain dog. I couldn't stand being alone anymore so I got Lady and yeah... that's about it when it comes to major life events." You laughed, a little nervous but the tension was fading by the minute.
"You gave in, huh? You used to talk my ear off about wanting a dog back then, remember?" He smiled. You did talk about wanting a dog all throughout your time at the police academy and it seemed like you had finally fulfilled that dream.
"Yeah, I did. She's so sweet, you'll love her." you said with a smile. Leon let out a laugh. "I'm more worried about her liking me." He joked.
You two continued to talk and drink, just laughing and having a good time. The night got closer and closer to ending when you remembered the box in your pocket.
"I have something for you." You mumbled, nervous to how he would react. He piped up at that and raised his eyebrows. "Aw, for me?" He teased. You just gave him a shy smile. Now or never. You pulled out the small box and slid it over to him. "I wanted to return this." you said quietly. His brows furrowed and a confused look fell on his face. "Return? Alright."
Leon carefully undid the bow and opened the lid. Not in a million years had he expected this. His jaw hit the fucking floor. It was his goddamn RPD badge. What the fuck? How did you even get this? It was tattered and faded. He gently ran his fingers across his barely legible name.
You chewed on the inside of your cheek. You had no idea how he would react. Leon looked at you completely bewildered. "I.. How?" He asked, still shocked. You shifted in your chair and fiddled with your fingers. "When... when I got out, I found it on the ground. It was the only thing I had left of you." You mumbled, avoiding eye contact. By 'got out' you meant fighting and clawing your way through infected residents and escaping the ruins of the collapsed building.
You could see the pain in his eyes. Whether it was his own for the pain he felt for you, you weren't sure. You spoke before he could. "I made a promise to myself that I would get it back to you one day, but.. at some point, I gave up and just kept it for myself. I thought you were dead and that this," you gestured to the badge," was the only thing I had left of you. My best friend. But it's yours, I want you to have it back." You said, your voice cracking, trying not to cry.
You could see the tears glistening in his eyes, his knuckles turning white as he tightly gripped his badge. "Thank you..." was all he managed to get out. You quickly wiped the tears that were threatening to fall and let out a sad laugh.
"God... I'm sorry for ruining the mood like that. It probably would've burned a hole in my pocket if I kept it any longer, though..."
Leon placed his badge on the table and took your hands in his. "You didn't. Well, a little maybe, but I'm really grateful for this. Thank you." He assured you, sqeezing your hands. Your skin lit on fire. His touch was so addicting. And so comforting. A blush made its way onto your face. Oh, fuck. Was Ashley right? No. No way, it's just a little hot in here. That's all. But you couldn't deny the way your heart twisted and turned when he touched you, the butterflies in your stomach were having a fucking rave right now. Jesus, it's just Leon. Get it together You thought to yourself.
Shaking off all those annoying feelings, you returned a smile. "How about I make it up to you with a Movie Night, hm? Ice cream and cuddles from Lady included." You proposed. He grinned and leaned in a little closer. "What about cuddles from you?" He asked, a teasing smirk on his face. It didn't come off nearly was confident as he wanted it to. His voice shook a little, making him sound nervous.
Leon Kennedy? Nervous? Something was definitely up. His nervousness didn't stop the bubbling feeling in your stomach, though. There go the butterflies again. Stupid bugs. This is normal, though. Right? You always cuddled. Friends cuddle. No big deal. He's always been like that. No sweat. Just a little friendly cuddle session. That. Is. It. Is it bad that you wanted it to be more than that? The idea of being in love with him suddenly didn't feel as scary anymore.
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Part three is coming soon~
#bumblebeesfromvenus#leon kennedy fluff#leon kennedy comfort#leon kennedy angst#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x fem!reader#leon s kennedy x reader#resident evil x reader#resident evil leon#ashley graham
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Lol, I got this out of a prompt generator, so you can use this as an idea, hehe.
A couple has been dating for about three years, and the man still hasn't proposed. The woman is getting impatient, and after a drunken night out on the town, she proposes to him. He loves her—but he says no—owing to his belief that it's a man's job to propose. This awkward moment leads the pair down a path, neither expected.
You can make the ending a happy one or a sad one. It depends on what you're comfortable doing 😄
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader.
Tags: Fluff, angst, slightly suggestive at the end
Synopsis: You propose to Satoru in your drunken state and he rejects you, mainly because he wants to be the one proposing to you.
A/N: i love writing about heartbreaks healed by love 🫶 idc if satoru is bit too ooc I LOVE IT AND I NEED IT but i genuinely do think satoru is extra expressive when it comes to his loved ones
Satoru has always been a cheesy romantic. Persistently trying to swoon you with his cheesy pick up lines before you started dating, promising you that he'll definitely marry you if you start dating him. Getting stupidly excited whenever he thought about your marriage after you both started dating, making future plans with you. Last week he was screaming about how he can't wait to propose to you. You know he wants to do the big thing but now you are tired of waiting for him.
Sure your drunken state is going against his wishes but what does he mean by no.
"I can't marry you." Satoru says coldly.
What is he saying? You were drunk- just slightly but you were fully conscious and in control of your actions.
"Love- I- I'm not that drunk, I'm serious." You stutter, your grip on the ring box tightening, tears threatening to spill out. "D-do you want me to get on my one kn-"
"Lets just go home now, okay?" Satoru cuts you off, his tone awkward. He gently closes the box before gently taking it from your hand and keeping it back in your purse which he was holding.
The short ride back home is quiet for the most part, other than Satoru trying to make small talk to which you could only respond in small hums. You really couldn't afford to show your vulnerable side to Satoru right now. No matter the reason for his actions, you couldn't find even a glimmer of comfort in his presence.
You just need to be away from him right now. Opting to sleep in the guest bedroom, locking yourself away from him, all sorts of thoughts plaguing your mind. Maybe he's not ready yet or did he fall out of love? You don't know. Covering yourself with the blanket, trying to hide away from your thoughts, slowly losing yourself to the slumber.
Satoru didn't think his words would affect you this much. He thought he'd talk to you while you changed or during your night routine which you religiously follow every night but he didn't expect to see you go directly to sleep without even changing. But he knows you well enough that you'd surely walk out of the house without listening to a single word uttered by him.
He doesn't know when he fell asleep on the couch waiting for you to wake up. But his heart sinks when he reads your note on the desk.
"I need some time away, Satoru. Sorry for putting you in such an unwanted situation, I really just thought you wanted to get married, I was wrong. - Y/N"
The lack of any nicknames or hearts or any silly sticker which would make his day, your plain note is now breaking him apart. He feels faint thinking about the horrible misunderstanding caused by his stupid pride. What kind of ludicrous satisfaction was he supposed to achieve by hurting you so badly where you decide to fully avoid him.
"No. No. No. You've got it all wrong" He chokes out almost as if you could somehow hear him, hear him out despite not being in the house. He doesn't waste much time before teleporting to school, desperately hoping you were there.
You obviously weren't. Not just that but you've already left for multiple week-long missions with a strict instruction of location secrecy given by you. Combined with your abilities of concealing your presence even from Satoru, making it impossible to find you.
To most Gojo Satoru does seem like a heartless guy but only few know how he perfectly hides the cracks underneath his impeccable facade.
He's been leaving earlier than usual for a week- turned into a month, decorating your shared home, prepping your favourite food accompanied by a dessert, like a routine he would repeat all the steps everyday. Clinging onto a glimmer of hope that you'll soon return to him and accept his apology along with him.
"Satoru?" you quietly call out his name, sensing his presence inside, as you open the door with a slight tremble of your hand but the sight you were welcomed by took your breath out of your lungs, gasping out loud "oh my god"
Before you realize Satoru has already wrapped himself around you, trapping you in his shaky embrace, inhaling your scent as he buries his face in the crook of your neck "I missed you.... so much"
"I missed you too Satoru" you confess wrapping your arms around him "...but don't you think you did a bit too much?"
"Too much?" Satoru chuckles. "This is nothing, if you'd allow me I'll happily decorate the whole world to celebrate your existence" he proclaims placing a gentle kiss, cupping your face. "also tonight, let me take care of you, please"
Wanting to discover more of this uncharacteristically soft Gojo Satoru you whisper "alright" against his lips chuckling softly, giving into his wishes.
Satoru doesn't let you go the entire time, fearing you'd fly away from him to a location he couldn't reach. Taking your bags inside before closing the door with an arm around your waist the whole time and his chin resting on your shoulder from behind. He has been leaning down slightly due to the height difference but you know he could care less, so you decide to ignore it.
Leading you down the carpet of flower petals laid till the bathroom. You couldn't stop smiling as you discovered more of the scenery Satoru created exceptionally for you.
Getting rid of your clothes gently along with his before he cleans both of you up. Delicately holding your hand while you step into the bath adorned with rose petals and bouquets of your favorite flower around it.
"Are you feeling better?" Satoru asks softly.
"Mmn. Much better, my love" you whisper leaning against the broad of his chest. Hearing his favorite nickname does magic on him, calming his nerves. That's when he finally decides this is the right moment.
Pulling out the ring out of the box he hid behind a bouquet, bringing it in your sight. "My sweet love, I know I messed up big time by rejecting your confession. I just wanted to be the one who confesses to you first yet I took too long. I know it was stupid and childish but please will you forgive me and accept my heart? Will you please marry me and become my y/n?" He sincerely empties his heart to you with a nervous smile adorning his features, his hopeful eyes pleading you.
"I obviously will Satoru!!!" You exhale nodding profusely, holding out your hand. Tears roll down your cheeks as he slips the delicate yet extravagant ring on your ring finger. Satoru stares at your finger for a few seconds before placing a kiss on it. He was about to kiss you next but your hand on his lips stopped him.
"Is something still wrong?" He frowns dumbfounded.
"Nono!" you assure him. Mentally thanking your abilities as you summon the ring you bought for him on your palm before holding it properly. "Satoru, I think I must apologize for disappearing for such a long time and hurting you, so will you forgive me? As you are my place to return, the love of my life, allow me to ask you to marry me as well and become mine?" you ask, pouring your emotions in your impromptu confession.
"I have always been yours" he reminds you, allowing you to slip your ring on his ring finger.
The next moment, both of you are clashing your lips against each other in a desperate yet passionate kiss, souls aching for the touch of your loved one as the hands trace every curve. Bare bodies cling to each other like you two were one.
Though not so very surprisingly the rest of the night was still soft yet fervent. Whispering sweet nothing to the other half while making promises about the exhilarating future. But both of you know, no matter how hard it gets, you both can overcome it. After all at the end of the day, his heart and soul belongs to you while yours belongs to him.
I gave this fic my all. goddamn. So I hope you like it 🫶
[REQUESTS ARE OPEN]
[MASTERLIST]
#The day im able to write smut#I'll write it for this one first#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo imagine#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x y/n#satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojou satoru x reader#gojo fluff#jjk x reader#gojo satoru#gojo fanfic#jjk gojo#jjk x you#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jjk x y/n#jjk satoru#satoru gojo x reader#gojou satoru x you#gojou x y/n#gojou saturo#jjk gojou
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In Another Life (5)
Chapter 4 • series masterlist
5 | This Life
Pairing: Gojo x f!Reader and Geto x f!Reader
Satoru comes home and a decision is made
Words: 2.3k
cw: descriptions of panic attack/anxiety
AN: Thank you to everyone who has liked and reblogged this little series, the love means so much, and is really appreciated!
AN2.0: The ending was actually voted on by my twitter followers. Every once in a while I'll post an obscure poll asking something incredibly vague. In this case, I asked people to vote on 1 or 2, and then did a wheel picker to choose if Gojo or Geto was the one who won. So the choice was randomly selected because I couldn't choose.
Taglist • Ao3 • Discord 18+ • Social Media • Series Masterlists
Suguru is the boy who said he loved you in high school. You’re the girl who kissed him and said you love him too.
He’s the boy who defected, killed a village full of people, and you’re the girl who ran to his shattered best friend seeking comfort.
He’s the man who betrayed everything he stood for, you’re the woman who betrayed her betrothed.
Those thoughts stay with you as you enter your penthouse apartment, walk to your room, and stare blankly at your bed. A place that holds so many happy memories from the past several years.
Your mind races with memories of all of the intimate moments you’ve shared with one another in this spot. The times you’ve made love, the times of jealousy or anger - no matter what it’s been, the two of you have always been brought back to one another.
Waking up each day next to Satoru, the soft morning kisses he would place on your lips, running his nose up and down the length of yours until you woke up.
Building a little fort with your sheets to hide from the golden rays of the early morning sun, giggling about something silly he said, or swapping stories about your students and how proud you are of them.
There are so many things over the past several weeks that could have been handled differently since you received the letter. You could have chosen to ignore it, stay in your blissful life with your fiancé, and have a wonderful wedding ceremony, and life together.
But you didn’t, and now you have to face the consequences of your actions.
With a heavy sigh, you tear your eyes away from the bed and walk into the large bathroom, turning on the shower. There’s an overwhelming desire to wash away the events of what happened tonight.
What you saw.
What you didn’t stop.
The water is warm, cascading down your back as you lean your head against the cool tile of the shower wall.
Other thoughts plague your mind as well; how you’ve missed Suguru more than you’ve let yourself admit these past several years. How your heart fluttered when you went to visit him in his temple.
How he killed an innocent man tonight without a second thought.
Thoughts of how even then, you’re not afraid of Suguru like you should be. How your heart still yearns to be by his side even after tonight.
Time is supposed to heal all wounds - that’s what you’re told at least. But this is more than that.
It’s a hurt in the deepest parts of your soul that doesn’t seem like it’s ever going to go away. No matter how much time you’ve given it. No matter the new love you’ve found.
It’s clear the universe isn’t planning to give you more time to make your decision and sort out your feelings as you sense Satoru walking into your apartment after having been gone for so long.
Of course, he would come home tonight of all nights. When you need to be alone. To think.
You know the reason why he chose to come back tonight. There’s no way he doesn’t know, no way Tokyo Tech wasn’t dispatched to the scene to investigate. Your residuals would have been present, and you’ll have a myriad of questions to answer.
You’ll easily lose your job, the life you have.
Panic begins to set in again and you gasp for air, running your hands over your face and turning the water colder to help try and mitigate the anxiety coursing through your veins.
Before you’ve realized he’s undressed and joined you in the shower, you feel Satoru gently wrap his arms around your waist, pressing his forehead to the back of your head, pulling himself close to you.
You sniffle, taking deep shaky breaths before you’re able to speak, “Satoru, I-”
“Shhh,” He hums quietly next to your ear before pressing kisses to your shoulder, neck, and back.
Satoru turns you around, pressing his soft lips to yours, letting his fingers gently graze over the still peaks of your nipples before you pull away abruptly. He furrows his brows, looking over your features quickly.
“Satoru, I-” Your voice is shaky, hoarse from crying, “I’m a mess right now.”
“I know,” He answers quietly, thumb tracing your jaw and lips, moving hair away from your face, “We’ll figure it out. All of it.”
Your heart breaks at his words, knowing he chose to come home to you despite your recent decisions and betrayals.
Because Satoru does love you. You gave him a life he never thought possible, a love he never thought possible because of who and what he is.
Several tears well in your eyes as he leans down and kisses you again. This time you let him, because this is how he’s always shown his love for you, and because you do love him too.
His hands run down your sides, squeezing your ass before lifting you, carrying you out of the shower, and laying you on the bed gently.
You leave your arms wrapped around his neck while he focuses on massaging your waist, hips, and thighs. It takes hardly anything at all for Satoru’s touch to work its magic.
No matter your mood, how upset or angry, the slightest touch of his nimble fingers always sends a shiver down your spine and straight to your core.
He kisses a few spots along your jaw before turning your head, slotting his lips between your own, tongue swiping along your bottom lip for access - you grant it, you always have.
Before long, you’re on top of him, rocking your hips as he watches you in pure awe, appreciation, and adoration.
Taking a deep breath, he slowly moves his hands around your body, feeling every inch of exposed skin in his large hands before leaning up, ghosting his lips against your neck, shoulders, and chest, his thumbs gently brushing past your hardened nipples.
You gasp when he pinches them between his fingers harder than expected and he watches, drinking you in like it’s the first time all over again.
He alternates, between pinching and licking each of your breasts as you continue to leisurely rock your hips against him. The two of you have made love before, but never like this.
It’s beautiful and slow, sensual in a way you’ve never experienced with him before. Like he’s giving you a part of himself that he’s never shown before. You’re speaking with your bodies, listening to each other’s heartbeats and labored breaths each time you take each other in.
Leaning back on one arm, he grabs your hip with the other, helping you move just slightly faster as his gaze trails down to where you’re connected; butterflies form in your stomach as he drags his knuckle over your abdomen, soaking in the sight of you, encircling your clit.
Your eyes are locked together, half-lidded, full of love, but he doesn’t dare break away, even as he tenderly presses his lips to yours, expressions drunk with desire and gratification for one another.
You press your foreheads together, sharing breaths, bodies glistening in sweat, hips flowing and ebbing into one another. You thread your fingers through his soft pale hair, as he thrusts his hips, diving deeper.
Your thighs begin to tremble, and he groans when you clench around him and he knows you're close, rolling his hips until he’s hitting the spot that has you whimpering into him with each thrust.
“Satoru,” you murmur, “I’m s-so close.”
He takes a deep breath, sharpening his movements, “Me too, baby.”
The intimate exchange is enough to push you both over the edge, unraveling into each other’s arms at the same time. He peppers your face with little kisses as he pulls out with a wince, rolling over and pulling you into his chest.
“I used to daydream about this,” Satoru admits quietly, holding you close, like he never wants to let go, “About being with you.”
“Oh,” You answer surprised, “I had no idea.”
Satoru chuckles, lacing his fingers with yours, “I never told you or anyone, really. Never thought I would need to.”
You take in his words as the two of you lay in comfortable silence, listening to each other's heartbeats and shallow breaths until you feel the twitching of Satoru’s hand, indicating he’s fallen asleep.
Satoru breaths slowly, and steadily as you watch his soft, snow-like lashes fluttering against his cheeks. You’ll always be grateful for the love you’ve shared, and the time you’ve been able to spend together.
You know what life with him will be like. Safe, committed, filled with love, laughter, and adventure. The letter told you precisely what to expect. A beautiful life anyone would dream of with a man who has done nothing but love you through all of your ups and downs.
But the letter never mentioned Suguru. What came of him, where did he go?
You swallow thickly because deep down, in the depths of your heart, you know. And the thought brings tears to the corner of your eyes that you quickly and quietly wipe away.
If you and Satoru were able to have such a beautiful life together, Suguru didn’t make it.
Did he try to bring the world to its knees, to have a world where Sorcerers are no longer living in plain sight but are the only ones remaining?
You don’t know and that hurts more than anything.
But you can.
2017
You’re back in a place you haven’t been to or seen in years. A place that used to be a second home.
You’re watching from a distance as Suguru declares war on Kyoto and Shinjuku. A decision you tried your hardest to talk him out of, only to land on deaf ears.
Satoru stands listening, but you can feel his gaze shift to you. He’s changed his look. No longer wearing the little black sunglasses you used to love on him, but rather choosing to cover his eyes with white bandages.
You wonder what the reason for the change was but know you’ll never get the pleasure of finding out.
“You’re both going to die,” Satoru says, just loud enough for you to hear him once Suguru turns his back to the crowd that’s gathered. “You do realize that, right?”
“Yeah, I know.” You answer quietly, pursing your lips and nodding your head, taking several steps toward him.
Satoru stays quiet, but you can feel the intensity of his eyes on you. Not with hatred, but a longing for understanding, on why you left and chose Suguru, a criminal, a murderer, over him.
“It was always going to be him,” You say just as Satoru opens his mouth to speak. “From the moment I saw the envelope, the moment I read what was said- I,” you take a breath, trying to find the right words, “I’m sorry. I never apologized to you for leaving, and I just want it to be known now. Before all of this comes to an end.”
The last night you spent with Satoru, you made beautiful love, telling each other how much you mean to one another and showing it in a way you never had before, but once he fell asleep, you crawled out of his grasp leaving behind the life you’ve created and everything you stood for.
After packing a bag, you left your engagement ring and the letter on your nightstand, hoping it would serve to answer his questions. On why you had been acting strangely, why things had been so difficult for you, and ultimately why you left.
Because you didn’t have the courage to tell him on your own.
“Yeah, I figured as much.” Satoru chuckles, thumb scratching his eyebrow as he sighs heavily. “Do you regret leaving behind the life we were building?”
Satoru questioned if the letter was really from yourself, or if it was an elaborate plan to lead you astray until he spent some time inspecting the letter. There were traces of residual energy that looked like yours, just older, along with another sorcerer he didn’t recognize.
What he didn’t expect was to find his own.
And the realization dawned on him that despite the love the two of you shared, your hurt would never go away, no matter how hard he fought to get you back.
So he let you go.
“It was a hard adjustment at first. Having to set aside the morals and values I held so close to me- that we shared- but it got easier. I’ve laid awake at night for hours wondering this same exact thing but I can never bring myself to regret choosing Suguru.”
Taking a deep breath, you take a few steps toward Satoru. You know he won’t harm you and that he’ll have his infinity off. He watches from beneath his bandages and you find yourself wishing you could see his eyes one last time while you press a tender kiss to his cheek, “Goodbye, Satoru.”
You give him a wistful smile before walking away to join Suguru’s side, knowing the next time you see your ex-fiance, a man you once loved, it’ll be your last.
Satoru watches as you make your way back to Suguru, who offers his hand, helping you climb the back of his curse before taking off, flying high in the sky. You know Satoru can see you from the distance and you can just make out his figure below as you give him one last tender smile.
Life with Satoru would have been grand and adventurous. He wouldn’t let any moment between the two of you go dull. You’ve loved him and you still do.
After you left, you found yourself wondering what life would have been like if you stayed. Would you have found yourself writing the same letter to send to your past? Would you have moved on with less regret knowing you put your past behind you and looking to the future?
You’ll never know.
All you can do now is accept your choices and spend as much time with Suguru as possible before your inevitable demise.
You’ll spend your last remaining moments taking your girls shopping and to Takeshita Street to get crepes like they want. Order pizza, watch TV, holding the little family you chose close each and every night.
There’s only one thing you’re certain of during these times:
You would make the same choices all over again if it led you here.
@s-witch-bitch @watyousayin @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @ritsatoru @faewithsnakes @lex-dear @hvziers @babybae-shisui @saiewithakatana @yihona-san06 @shartnart1 @lilith412426 @ambersea7 @ikilledsparky2 @creolequeen11210 @ichigojamjam @simpfully-heartbroken @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @shan-nein @witchbybirth @myabae @lilacsinjuly @mshope16
#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x you#geto x you#geto suguru smut#geto x reader#geto x y/n#getou suguru x y/n#violetsaffronfic#jjk x you#jjk fic#jjk smut#jjk angst#IAL#In Another Life
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Sorrow, part 13
"I wish to go with you."
Aemond studied his wife. He was leaving the following day to get hands on Jacaerys Velaryon and to mete out some long-delayed consequences to Elyse's former brother-in-law.
After a week and a half, starved and nearly mad with fear, Jace had made a run for Vermax, the dragon that had now been secured by the men Ser Otto had sent to surround the estate. The bastard boy had been caught, but Aemond wanted it to be him who faced the Prince of Dragonstone and told him he would be prince of nothing for the rest of his life.
"Are you sure?"
Elyse nodded. "I wish to see him when you capture him. When you put an end to his aspirations."
Aemond pressed his lips together before reaching for her. "Has my soft and sweet wife developed a taste for vengeance?"
She wrapped her arms around his waist, her head on his chest. "I want him to know I do not fear him."
"Very well, then I shall make arrangements." He could not deny her. He knew well the deep seated need for retribution, how consuming it could be to know that someone who had hurt you was not suffering by your own hand, and he would not deny her that.
He speared his hand through her hair, pulling her back so he could kiss her. He had not imagined such a thing, such an addiction to touching her. If she weren't so responsive maybe he could hold back, tell himself that she was with him because he had rescued her and given her a safe place to live her life.
As much as he didn't want to examine his feelings, Aemond knew it went far beyond gratitude for her. Far beyond protectiveness for him. How far he did not know and he had to keep his wits about him for what was to come.
* * * * *
As quiet as she was during the ride to her old home, Aemond could feel the worry and nerves that started to plague her. She was strong, incredibly so, to have not only survived as she had, but to keep her kind and gentle nature, to keep her heart from hardening into stone. But it didn't mean she did not fear, even if he would strike down anyone who'd dare think of harming her.
When they pulled in to the gates of the small estate, Cole nodded to the men who had surrounded it for the past weeks. "My prince," the knight said, turning to Aemond, "my princess, say the word and we shall have the traitors brought out."
"Bring the bastard boy out," Aemond said, and turned to Elyse. "I will leave the fate of the Lord to you, wife."
Elyse stared at him. They had not discussed this. They had not discussed much of anything, really, other than coming here to have the two men surrender. Her former brother-in-law and the Prince of Dragonstone. But she met his gaze and nodded, and let him dismount and come over to help her off her horse.
She knew he would have ridden Vhagar if she hadn't wanted to accompany him. She was still terrified of the great beast, but she would prove to Aemond that she was brave, that she could place her hand on the old dragon's side without shaking with fear.
Three men came out of the house, a dark haired young man in the center, the two on either side holding him as they walked.
"Are you going to kill me, too, Kinslayer?" the young man, Jacaerys, shouted, and Elyse winced.
If Aemond minded the taunt, he didn't show it. "Jacaerys Velaryon. Your mother, the usurper Rhaenyra Targaryen, is dead. And you are no longer Prince of Dragonstone. You are Prince of Nothing."
Jacaerys tried to lunge at Aemond but the men holding him would not budge.
"You can bend the knee and I will allow you to live the rest of your years in Essos, or you can rot in our dungeons until the Stranger takes you. You have until we reach King's Landing to decide."
Aemond turned before Jacaerys could reply, and without giving him a second thought, went to Elyse, taking one of her hands in his. "Have you decided what you wish to do?" he asked softly.
"I do not think we can trust him to keep his word if he says he will bend the knee," she said. "But I do not wish his death on my conscience, either."
"We can find somewhere to put him," Aemond said with an ease he did not feel. The man had watched as Elyse was harmed, had let it happen, had cheered on his brother to hurt and humiliate her. If it was up to him, he'd tear the man's limbs off his body one by one. But Elyse had wanted to be here. And he would give her the choice, abide by it, and not show her the rage that burned inside him.
"Not in King's Landing," she replied.
Aemond shook his head. "He would not be anywhere near you." He kissed her fingers, and said very gently, "he will never again be close to you. I swear it."
She looked up at him, her eyes trusting, and she nodded. "I will let Ser Criston know he can bring him out."
* * * * *
Her back was straight, her shoulders squared, her hands clasped together, and when the man appeared, flanked by two of Cole's men, she did not react.
"My lord," she said when he set eyes on her. "You are to be taken to a place of my choosing, where you will spend the rest of your days. Your title and lands are forfeit, and the House ends with you."
When he spat near her feet, she still did not move, but Aemond's grip on his sword tightened. "Stupid bitch, my brother should have let you die, you rotten little whore-"
This time Aemond did not hold back, and he planted his fist in the middle of the man's face with a sickening crunch. He heard Elyse's soft gasp, but to her credit, she did not flinch.
"Shall I cut off his tongue, wife, for disrespecting you?"
When he turned, he saw she had paled, but she was still composed, despite the way the lord's broken nose gushed blood.
"He did nothing to stop my suffering, husband, so I will let you decide and I will turn my head and look away, as he did."
* * * * *
"Elyse."
She was looking out the window in their bedchamber. She'd said almost nothing on the way back home, and she'd headed straight for their room when they arrived at the keep. Usually she would go see the children or at least say hello to Helaena but this time she was quiet, and Aemond decided he would not let it consume her.
"Elyse."
She turned, startled, and smiled at him. "Husband, I apologize, were you-"
"There is nothing to apologize for. Come here."
Dutifully, she walked to him, extended her arms to him, and let him pull her in.
"Tell me," he demanded."
"What?"
"Your thoughts. I would know them."
She pulled back, studying him. "I am glad to be home, that is all."
He caressed her cheek, kissed the tip of her nose. "That is not all, wife. I would not have you hide from me. I know today was difficult and I would not see you dwelling on these events. If you must think of what transpired today, then I wish to share in your thoughts."
She smiled again. "Aemond, truly, there is nothing to share."
He had to smile back. Despite his instinct telling him that she was very much thinking about what had transpired earlier, he could not resist the sweet way she looked at him. No one else had ever looked at him like that, and he would not push her if she was not ready to tell him.
* * * * *
Aemond awoke to the sound of her screams.
Even before he was fully awake, he had reached for her, placed himself protectively around her, when he realized that she was in the grip of a nightmare.
"Elyse," he said, pulling her up to sitting as the door opened and her maid rushed in. He heard the guard rushing in, the sound of his sword being freed from the scabbard, but he was only focused on his wife.
Elyse's eyes opened and he saw the confusion and terror in the dim light of dawn. Tears had fallen down her face and she now looked at him, her cold, cold hands gripping his arms. "Aemond."
"You're safe," he said steadily. "I have you."
The maid walked around the bed, carrying a cup. "Princess, this will help."
"What is it?" Aemond demanded.
"Orange blossoms are good for settling down the nerves. She has taken it before."
He turned to Elyse, who nodded and reached out for the cup. She sipped slowly, and he simply held her other hand. She had not had a nightmare in a long time, but he was not surprised that the previous day would have caused one.
"Thank you," she said quietly, handing the cup back. The maid curtsied and left along with the guard, closing the door gently behind them.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "Aemond, I'm so-"
He pulled her in, his throat too tight to speak. He knew what horror nightmares could be, but he had not suffered what she had. He could not imagine. He kissed the top of her head, wanting to take all that pain away, wanting to free her from it, despairing that he could not.
He felt her heart beating wildly against his chest, her unsteady breathing, but she let him soothe her, and he decided to try something else.
"Tell me about the orphanage."
She pulled back, swiped at her eyes, and gave him a small smile. "I think the children will like it," she began, "it will be a happier place than the old one, larger."
He saw the immediate change in her, when she spoke of helping others, and sat up against the headboard with her in his arms. "Tell me everything."
* * * * *
"What will you do with Jacaerys?"
Aemond tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. "As I guessed, he will not bend the knee. Not that I would trust him if he did, but he cannot be kept anywhere he will cause trouble."
Elyse walked over to where he sat, leaned down and kissed his cheek. "So young, and now his future is to rot," she murmured, and gasped when Aemond pulled her over to sit on his lap.
She had not had any nightmares in the last few days, and he'd encouraged her when she'd wanted to visit the new orphanage, make sure all was as she envisioned. Her face was no longer so pale, her features not so drawn, and he thought, maybe, she was happy here. With him.
"I do not wish to speak of Jacaerys Velaryon," he said against her ear. "Not when you're sitting here, so warm and soft in my arms."
She sighed when he took her mouth, threaded her fingers through his hair, and when he rose to take her to their bed, she wrapped her arms around him.
"I much prefer to speak of you, wife," he said, running a hand up her calf.
"Of me?" she asked, unlacing her dress. "What would you say of me?"
He ran his hand back down to her ankle, brought it up to his lips and kissed the hollow inside as Elyse squirmed. "I would speak of your delightful legs, and how good they feel wrapped around me."
She blushed, but undid the rest of her clothes as he pulled off his shirt.
He pushed her down onto the bed once she'd tugged off the dress, and brushed her hair off her face. "I would tell you how I love your breasts." Before she could reply, he dipped down to taste one, smiling when she arched against him. "They're soft, like the finest silk," he added, rubbing his cheek against one small mound.
"Aemond," she whispered.
"I would tell you that you're soft all over, and your skin smells like wildflowers, and I cannot get enough of it."
He kissed his way down over her ribs, which he was glad to see were not as prominent any more. She made a little noise when he kissed her belly, and whimpered when he spread her legs open, "I would tell you the taste of you is intoxicating." He ran his tongue between her legs and she moaned. He gripped her hips, holding her still while she grabbed at the bedding.
He felt the moment she gave in, the feel of her fingers in his hair as she began rolling her hips, seeking release. He didn't stop, not when she came the first time, not when her moans grew loud enough that he knew the guards outside could hear, not when he saw tears rolling down the sides of her face. She was mindlessly chanting his name, her body his and he wanted, oh, he wanted to sink inside her so badly, but he wanted this more, to see her surrender to the pleasure he could give her, lost to everything but him. If it made him a monster, so be it. She knew what she'd married.
Only when she said, "please," did he stop, and then only to drive inside her, to feel her heat surrounding his cock and feel her shaky legs go around him. He loomed over her, one hand on her cheek as he held himself on the other. Her face was flushed, her skin so warm, and he knew he wasn't going to last long, so he buried his face in her hair and let the tide take him.
* * * * *
"I am offering you one chance, Lord Strong. To regain what is left of your dignity and bring peace to the realm."
From where he sat in his cell, Jacaerys Velaryon stared up at Aemond with rage in his eyes. But Aemond saw there was also curiosity, and he had counted on that to be the key to this conversation.
"Speak, Kinslayer," Jacaerys spat. "As you see, I am very busy here in your dungeon."
Aemond smirked. "I am offering you a place in the Small Council."
* * * * *
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King Of My Heart
Warnings: Mentioned Cheating
Genre: Established Relationship, Misunderstanding, Angst/Reverse Comfort, Fluff at the end
Song lyrics will be at the end of this post
Synopsis: (Based on the King Of Hearts being beheaded because the Queen of Hearts suspected him of being unfaithful to her) She’s done it. Riddle’s mother has finally gotten him to doubt you. It’s up to you to assure him.
Or, the one time Riddle’s mind got plagued with doubt and the umpteenth time you remind him he’s your everything.
»»————————— 🥀 ——————————-««
She’s done it. The wrench had finally done it.
Riddle’s mother has planted enough doubt into her son’s mind to drive him paranoid.
She’s planted enough doubt in his mind to make him believe you weren’t happy with him. He believed you wanted anyone else.
She’s made him believe you’d turn around and run into the arms of the nonexistent person he believed you were cheating with.
Moments molted into hours. You mind was running so unbearably fast that you can’t even finish one thought without another coming through right away.
You remember the angry sound of his shoes against the marble floor. The way the doors slammed open to reveal him.
Riddle, with his face painted red with rage and… tears streaming down his cheeks. He looked like he didn’t know whether to be angry or cry.
Worried, you asked him what was wrong.
“Y—YOU KNAVE!” He marched up to you, hiccuping from the tears running down his face.
“YOU UNFAITHFUL,” He had grabbed you by the collar and dragged your face to be right in front of his.
“SWINE!” Riddle bellowed, the hand that grabbed your collar trembled. Even with what he thinks you’ve done, he can’t bring himself to hurt you.
“HOW DARE YOU TRY AND MAKE A FOOL OUT OF ME?!” You worriedly tried calming him down, you tried to wipe his tears, just for your hands to be slapped away like they’ve touched blood as velvet as his hair. But most of all, you were preparing for the inevitable.
“I’VE OUGHT TO CLEAVE OFF YOUR HEAD RIGHT HERE AND NOW!” He said, reaching for his pen.
You stand there in shock and disbelief. You ask him what was he talking about. “SO NOW YOU DECIDE TO ACT AS IF YOU’RE INNOCENT! YOU’VE BEEN OUT AND ABOUT, PULLING MY DORM MEMBERS ALONG!”
He took a deep breath. Then another. A million more. Then he spoke, more composed.
“Now tell me,” He said, suddenly calm.
He didn’t think you were worth even being angry at anymore.
And it was somehow me terrifying than his earlier outburst. At first, he just seemed irrationally angry, but now? He looks absolutely heart broken. And you think your heart might have broken too from the mere sight.
“Who’s the man you managed to bewitch? Might it be Spade?” He asked, letting out a scoff, you notice his fingers turn white as he gripped his pen too tightly.
“Trapolla?” He looks away, jaw clenched.
“The Seven forbid, was it Clover?” He started trembling again.
Your world shattered. You loved him more than life himself and there he was, accusing you becoming unfaithful.
Then the realization dawned on you.
His mother. His wretched mother—
You had just met her last week, and saying she didn’t like you was an enormous understatement.
But even if she did cause this, the fact that he was convinced in 5 days at most told you: you were severely lacking in proving he was all that mattered to you.
“Riddle.” You wince, it came out harsher than intended.
“How could I throw away the loyalty I swore to you the day we got together? The loyalty I swore to you when we decided that we’d be richer than any royalty upon a golden throne so long as we have each other? Now that I’ve realized how I haven’t been able to prove my devotion to you,” you linger on the revelation.
“I don’t know what to do with myself.” You laugh humorlessly at your faults.
“Sometimes you feel like a full on rain storm and I’m merely a house of cards.” You cautiously reach out to him, slowly as to give him the chance to back away.
“Riddle, King of my heart, my body and soul.” He didn’t back away, you rub his cheek tenderly; you were glad you were slowly easing away his doubt.
“Nothing can challenge my devotion to you, love.” Your voice dropped to a whisper.
“How can I be sure you mean every single word you say? How can I be sure you aren’t saying these words just to continue your…affair?” His eyes became cold again.
.
.
.
“I think beheading me would be too light of a punishment. Death would be too merciful.” You say, eyes downcast.
“If you wish to inflict pain onto me, leave my life and I will cease to live.” You breathe out.
“These luxurious drapes would be no different from rags, the golden pieces I wear would be no different from insignificant stones under your shoes.” Tears started pooling around your eye line at the thought of him leaving you.
“I’ve made you my temple, my mural, my sky.” The tears started falling. You desperately wish you could stop them.
“You are free to so what you want with me.” You grab his hand and pull it closer to you.
“But that will not stop me from begging you not to leave.” Your lip trembled.
“Please.” You plead.
“Riddle, every breathe that leave my lips, every beat of my heart, every. Single. Thing I do is yours.” You’re on your knees now, you don’t remember when you dropped to your knees but you don’t care.
“I am yours. Yours to keep,” you take a shaky breath.
“…and yours to lose.” Your voice breaks as you cry into the hand you grabbed.
You feel something trickle onto your intertwined hands.
You look up and see Riddle’s face painted with tears again.
Only this time, it wasn’t accompanied by anger.
“D-do you truly-?” The dam broke, the onslaught of his tears didn’t seem to have the intention of stopping anytime soon.
“I d-do not know what came over me.” He said, his voice teary and shaky.
He dropped to come face to face with you.
“Riddle. Every word I have said came straight from my heart.” You say, laughing a bit through your tears.
“Dearest, I truly am sorry for my behavior, I-!” Another sniff, he wiped a sleeve over his face.
Without another word you pull his head into your lap. He started telling you what his mother said, how she commented on every relationship you had with anyone who wasn’t him, how utterly stupid he felt he actually convinced himself you were being unfaithful to him!
He chattered on, but you didn’t mind. It was nice to have your lover back. Instead, you listened attentively. Nodding along and humming.
The floor was cold, but you didn’t care, it didn’t matter. Nothing ever did when you were together.
.
.
.
*
“Riddle?”
“Yes, dearest?”
“I love you. You ought to know and remember that, hm?”
He laughed. A boyish, melodic laugh.
And by The Seven, you think you fell deeper.
“Yes, dearest. I’m sorry once again.”
“You’re forgiven…if you stay for a bit and cuddle with me.”
“It would certainly be my pleasure.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Ugh.”
A giggle.
The cuddling session in your bed was well worth the fight you two resolved a few hours before.
Yes, hours. You found that when given the chance, Heartslabyul’s Dormleader, Riddler Rosehearts, can and will talk one’s ear off.
It was quite endearing.
»»————————— 🥀 ——————————-««
List of songs: King Of My Heart(“king of my heart, my body and soul”), Tolerate it(“I’ve made you my temple, my mural, my sky”), Sparks Fly(“The way you move is like a full-on rainstorm and I’m a house of cards”) all songs by Taylor Swift
#twisted wonderland#disney twst#twst imagines#twst x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#riddle rosehearts#twst riddle#twst riddle rosehearts#riddle twst#i surprised myself with this#like???#these luxurious drapes will be no different from rags????#idk where tf that came from but it ate
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Male!Reader Mafia AU (chapter 19)
18+ Minor DNI
Summery: As (Y/N) and Simon get closer and closer, their relationship shifts to a new directon, a different one. No longer just some low life bodyguard and the son of the boss, but now a partnership build on mutual trust and protection. Lines are blurred and new alliances are forged even stronger.
Warnings(contains spoilers, but that is obvious): (Y/N) has some complicated feelings that if you have been a victim of emotional abuse and emotional neglect may be a bit hard to read about. Essentially (Y/N) realises he is capable of love and deserving of happiness
AN: I meant to have this out wayyyyyyyy earlier, as in last week but my engagement of 3 years ended, so sorry, I have just been too disraught, sad and pissed off to even consider writing this finished, somehow (Y/N) and Simon being so happy together was painful. I guess the fanfiction writer curse strikes again....
Word count: 3.2K
(Y/N) stared down at the sleeping Simon. He looked peaceful… no, he looked young and peaceful. No nightmares plagued his mind behind the eyelids, no anxiety was freezing his core and no doubt was tending the already huge garden of doubt flowers that grew in his mind.
(Y/N) smiled as he ran a hand through Simon’s hair, for once with care instead of possession. He had started to like Simon, no, he hadn’t lied to Simon earlier in the week. He loved him. He… loved… him. The thought was foreign to (Y/N), he didn’t know how that had happened or how Simon had wormed his way into his heart, yet here he was, warming up something that (Y/N) had forgotten he had. He felt odd. He was simultaneously on a cloud and in the deepest pits of hell, the last few weeks had been like descending into hell, every single layer worse than the other.
He felt a lot like Dante, forced to descend into hell only to learn how to love and have compassion. The thought left a grim taste in his mouth as he realised he may eventually feel bad for his actions. (Y/N) had never felt like more than a pawn to anyone, to his family, to the agency and to Price. But with Simon… Simon had never treated him like anything but someone better than him, superior then him, all the while (Y/N) knew from day one that (Y/N) could never be half the man Simon was. He saw him for what he was, a once beautiful angel that had survived abuse and torture at the hands of his parents, only to endure it at the hands of John Price.
Simon was beyond broken, an angel whose wings had been clipped and stolen, yet he had never fallen, he had never once let it truly break him. (Y/N) had seen the light and like his father he had sought to squash the light, yet no matter how much he tried, the light was so bright that (Y/N) had been overwhelmed and Simon’s kindness was so heartbreakingly pure despite everything that (Y/N) had changed positively. (Y/N) was somehow a better man for knowing Simon and Simon had stopped hiding behind Ghost as an attempt at hiding who he was.
He was growing his wings back and Simon was more confident in himself than ever and (Y/N) loved every single second of it. He closed his eyes and let sleep take him.
(Y/N) woke when the alarm blared into his ear. Both men groaned as they separated for the morning and got up. As they both got dressed (Y/N) caught Simon glancing at him, (Y/N) headed over and wrapped his arms around Simon from behind, he kissed the spine between his shoulders. “Hmmm, morning luv.” Simon’s voice rumbled. “You are not usually this clingy.” He leaned back against (Y/N).
“I just realised how much I care and how much I love you.” (Y/N) whispered into his back before kissing his back again.
Simon chuckled. “Well, sir, I am always here for you,” Simon said.
(Y/N) chuckled. “Thank you, Si.” He said softly before pulling away with a sigh. “What is on the agenda today?”
“Meeting with the Shadow Unit, as usual,” Simon said as he placed his knives in their usual places. “Then you have dinner with the police chief, one of your father's allies has lent out his restaurant for this, I hope you like Italian food.”
(Y/N) chuckled. “I don’t mind it, the food isn’t all that bad.” He hid his own knives as well before checking up on his drawing kit. He checked the sharpness. Simon’s eyes were on him through the whole process. When he was done he wrapped it again and walked over to Simon. They shared a quick kiss before walking out.
After breakfast and the daily first meeting with various people who (Y/N) made very little attempt to even remember who was, he headed to lunch with the police chief.
(Y/N) sat down and looked at the smug face. “My officer says you are working close,” Shepherd said.
“Of course, we appreciate the shadow unit more than we could ever express.” (Y/N) said as he leaned back in the chair. The waiter poured him a glass of red wine. “Besides, Graves, your lapdog, is quite useful in many ways.” He said.
“He wouldn’t appreciate you calling him that,” Shepherd said with a chuckle.
(Y/N) shrugged as he picked up the glass of wine. “Yet, it is true.”
“Touché, Mister Price.” Shepherd said. “Graves reported his men started calling you The Iron Fist.” He said.
(Y/N) sipped the dry wine before sitting it down. “Iron fist?”
“Yes, apparently you are quite strict.” He said.
“I am no drill sergeant.” (Y/N) chuckled. “But they are learning how to not crack under torture.”
“By… torturing them,” Shepherd said.
“Nothing a child can’t go through.” (Y/N) said nonchalantly. As though pain and suffering didn't matter to him and Shephard knew, in his heart, that for (Y/N) it probably didn't matter, as long as a soldier was made out of the child.
Shepherd looked genuinely taken back and a bit disgusted at that. “You put children through that?”
“It was what my mother put me through, they won’t ever experience anything worse, I promise.” (Y/N) said.
He looked distrustful of that. “Are you suggesting that my men will be in danger of getting kidnapped and tortured?”
“It is always a possibility, even without them working for us, what I bring to the family is fresh eyes and fresh blood. I have allies and contacts for future work that would leave many quaking in their boots but it will earn you a good bonus.” (Y/N) said with a smile.
“A good bonus?” The police chief asked.
(Y/N) took a piece of paper out of his pocket and wrote 20 000$ on it before turning it over and sliding it over to him. Shepherd took it and looked at it. His eyes widened as he looked at (Y/N). “Bi-annually, on top of what we already give you, that is just a taste too. I am expanding the business in due time, though not without regulating what happens. If your men think of me as The Iron Fist now they will be in for a rude awakening when I take over and actually handle more business than our lovely police force.”
“And what about Grave’s, your police lap dog? What will happen to him?” Shepherd asked as the food was placed down in front of them. Perhaps (Y/N)'s cruelty wasn't so outrageous if it got results like this…
“He will keep being a lapdog. If I say jump I don’t even want him to ask how high, he should jump as high as possible.” (Y/N) took a bite of food and swallowed it before speaking again. “I will keep him close but keep in mind that I am happily taken, I won’t fuck his brains out.”
Shepherd cleared his throat. “Do you use your body often for sexual favours to clients?” (Y/N) chuckled at that.
“Not anymore, no.” (Y/N) said. “I don’t tend to have open relationships. I am a tad bit… possessive.” He heard Simon shuffle behind him.
“You must make whoever it is very happy,” Shepherd said.
(Y/N) smiled. “Yes, I think so too.” (Y/N) said with a softness Shepherd hadn’t heard from him.
“And you won’t tell me who?” Shepherd asked, mostly as a joke.
(Y/N) chuckled and shook his head. “No, we like to keep things private.”
Shepherd chuckled at that. “Alright, alright. I will let you keep your secrets.”
The rest of the lunch was decent, they had spent it talking about some minor things. No business after that.
When lunch was over Simon and (Y/N) headed back to the warehouse being used as a training facility. They entered to see Graves running men through the usual drills. (Y/N) gave a hum.
He walked over to them and looked at everyone going through the different drills. “Your men show promise.”
“Thank you, sir.” Graves smiled at the praise. He looked at him. “How did your lunch go?”
“It went well. Has Gaz arrived yet?” (Y/N) asked.
“Ah, yes. He is in your office, Sir.” Graves said.
“Next time lead with that. Ghost, keep an eye on their training.” (Y/N) said before walking upstairs. He entered his office and looked at Gaz with a smile. Both men shared a hug. (Y/N) sat down behind his desk and Gaz sat down in front of it. “So, what’s new?”
Gaz leaned back. “Well, your father is stressed, but still working, we keep suggesting he takes a break or give you more responsibility.”
“He is getting old.” (Y/N) said. “I am here to help in any way he needs or wants.”
“Those two are not the same?” Gaz asked.
(Y/N) chuckled. “We both know they aren’t, Gaz.”
“Oh, this is business?” Gaz chuckled.
(Y/N) smiled and shook his head. “Do you prefer Kyle, out here amongst the dogs?”
“I think you said 'A dog and his pigs',” Gaz said.
“Well, the lapdog is very entertaining to tease and his pigs are very needed to get our business running.” (Y/N) shrugged. “Besides, I am very happy with how Graves makes Ghost react.”
Gaz smirked. “You like the fact he asks you to fuck him.”
“Yes, though you should know all about that, Kyle.” (Y/N) commented.
“Oh I do, I know far better than most people.” He responded.
“Aye, you do.” (Y/N) chuckled. “Does my father even know about what we did?”
Gaz nodded. “He found out when Ghost was honest and said everyone wanted to fuck your brains out,” Gaz said with a shrug. “He couldn’t do anything as he realised that everyone would in fact like to fuck you. He asked me why and I answered truthfully. He regretted asking and just let people be.” He said. “He figured it would keep people loyal to you when he retired.”
“It does tend to keep people close to me.” (Y/N) said.
“May I ask, how do you do it?” Gaz asked.
“You may and honestly, I don’t know. I am just charming. To some degree it is probably my training kicking in but… for me, this is just me.” (Y/N) said, once again, shrugging.
“Interesting,” Gaz said. “So it is all unintentional?”
“Probably to others at this point.” (Y/N) said. “But I do use it and wield it like a weapon.”
“Except with Ghost,” Gaz said.
“What?” (Y/N) asked.
“Except with Ghost. I see the way you look at him when you think no one is looking.” Gaz said. “You look at him as though he is your whole world and as if you would happily burn the whole world down just for him,” Gaz said.
“I do love him.” (Y/N) said as he leaned back.
“You love him more than you realise,” Gaz said. “You do realise it, right?”
“I…” (Y/N) looked away, his silence was enough.
Gaz tilted his head. “You didn’t realise you loved him?” He asked. “It’s okay to have emotions, to be human.”
“No, emotions are a weakness.” (Y/N) said. “Care is a weakness. I can’t be weak.”
“That’s why Ghost is here, why you have friends, so that if you are weak for a moment then they will support you. Have you not had that before?” Gaz asked softly.
“Get out.” (Y/N) choked out.
Gaz said nothing more, he stood up and left, closing the door behind him. Gaz looked at Ghost and sighed. “Check up on him.” He said before leaving.
Simon frowned before looking at Graves. “Excuse me.” He walked up the stairs and knocked. “Sir?”
He heard some shuffling around before (Y/N) cleared his throat. “Come in.”
Simon entered and tilted his head. “Are you okay?” He asked as he noticed (Y/N) had been crying, his eyes had puffed up.
“No, I… I am not good with emotions, Si.” (Y/N) said. “Kyle made me realise a few things, I… I can’t handle that well.”
Simon walked over and sat down in front of him. “Anything to talk about?”
(Y/N) shook his head. “Not right now. But thank you, Si.” (Y/N) chewed on his lip. Simon had never seen him so… nervous. “How are the recruits going?”
Simon stood up and walked behind the table. “(Y/N)?” He lifted (Y/N)’s face up with a finger under his chin. “Look at me, please.”
(Y/N) looked into his eyes. “Yes?”
“Are you okay?”
(Y/N)’s face conveyed very little emotion but his eyes were stormy as doubt and thoughts rushed through them. Every single fear he had ever felt was coming to life. “No.”
Simon sat in his lap and wrapped his arms around him. (Y/N) hesitated before wrapping his arms around Simon. He didn’t cry out loud, but Simon felt him shake as he sobbed into his shoulder, the facade of the charming suave man who got into everyone’s pants fell away and once again Simon saw the vulnerable man who had never experienced actual love before, he had gotten glimpses of that version of him in the past though never as much as right here.
They sat there for an hour, neither of them moved, and neither of them spoke. The lines were blurring. Simon had gained confidence in their time together and (Y/N) had slowly begun trusting him with his emotions. They were healthily shifting roles. They were becoming one.
Simon stood up and held his hand out to (Y/N) who took it silently. They walked out, got into the car and got home. Simon waved people away as he took (Y/N) straight up to their bedroom. He ensured the door was closed behind them before laying down on the bed, still fully clothed. (Y/N) joined him on the bed, he cuddled into him and placed his head on his chest before closing his eyes.
Simon wrapped his arms around him and drew small circles on (Y/N)’s hips as he watched him fall asleep. Simon fought off sleep himself for a while before he too succumbed to the would-be nap, except no one woke them up.
(Y/N) and Simon awoke together around midnight. Both were far too well-rested to go back to sleep. (Y/N) looked up at Simon before cupping his cheek. “Thank you, for taking care of me.” He whispered.
Simon kissed his palm. “I will always take care of you.” He whispered back before (Y/N) straddled him.
“May I?” (Y/N) asked softly.
Simon nodded.
(Y/N) kissed him, it was slow and full of love, there was no demand for anything to go further but Simon reached up and gently cupped his cheek as they kissed, his other hand went down further landing on (Y/N)’s lower back. When they pulled away to breathe, their foreheads pressed together. “I want you,” Simon whispered.
(Y/N) smiled and kissed him again. “Then you will have me. Go clean yourself and I will prepare everything here.” (Y/N) said softly as he got off him. He watched Simon walk off before lighting a few mildly scented rose tealights, he ensured there was lube, condoms and things to clean Simon up with afterwards before sitting down. His mind went to Simon’s lips, how sweet they tasted against him, how much he wanted him forever and how much he loved him. (Y/N) smiled softly.
Simon came back out, already naked. (Y/N) undressed before walking over. He looked up into his eyes. “I love you.” (Y/N) said. Simon smiled at that and kissed him before saying, “I love you too.”
(Y/N) led Simon over to the bed where Simon lay down. He got between his legs and grabbed the lube, he squirted a good amount on his fingers before he started preparing Simon. First, one finger, slowly in and out, gently easing its way, there was no need to rush. Every single movement was followed by a kiss to the thigh, not something that would leave visible marks but Simon would spend the rest of the week feeling the ghostly kisses.
(Y/N) added a second finger, he curled and spread his fingers just right to get small moans out of Simon, he looked up at him with a smile and watched as his eyes halfway closed. The sheer trust they had in each other was beautiful. He added more lube before adding a third finger. His fingers curled around Simon’s prostate drawing further soft moans out from him.
(Y/N) pulled away as he grabbed a condom. Simon whined as he felt empty, he looked at (Y/N) and bit his lip as he watched him take the condom. “I am clean,” Simon said. (Y/N) looked at him and tilted his head. “So am I. Are you sure you want to bareback this?”
Simon nodded. “Yes.” He said. “I trust you, we are both clean.”
(Y/N) gave a nod at that and lubed up his cock, it was already hard. He positioned them both just right before slowly sliding into him. He bottomed out and waited for Simon to get comfortable. “You are taking me so well.” (Y/N) praised. Simon smiled at that.
(Y/N) leaned down without stopping his movement. Simon held onto (Y/N) as they shared loving but sloppy kisses. Both chased their mutual satisfaction. “Fuck Si, you feel so good.” (Y/N) said against the kiss, his pace didn’t falter.
Simon’s grip on (Y/N)’s shoulders and arms didn’t falter as he moaned against the kiss. (Y/N)’s choice of words sent him spiralling closer to his own edge. “(Y/N), fuck, this is so good, please don’t stop!” He cried out. He opened his eyes and looked up at (Y/N). His cock was leaking precum all over his stomach. He detached one hand and reached down before tugging at his own cock, further sending him spiralling towards the fast-approaching edge. The knot in his stomach was forming faster than he could even begin to realise. “I’m close.”
(Y/N) felt a surge of pride, Simon was already so close just because of him. He fucked into him harder. “Cum when you can, Si.” He panted.
Simon kissed him again, their tongues clashed against each other as teeth hit teeth, it was sloppy, tired and loving.
(Y/N) bit Simon’s lower lip as he kept thrusting into him, he was barreling towards his own bliss, not caring as moans tore themselves from his mouth, his sense was flooded with Simon and the feeling of his wet warm hole.
Simon moaned out louder than before as white cum sprayed over his hand and his stomach. He clenched around (Y/N) who thrust into him a few more times before cumming deep inside him. (Y/N) panted out as the adrenaline left their bodies. “Fuck si… Ah god, you were good, this was, hmmm, amazing.” He said and pulled out, he watched as his cum fell out of Simon’s hole.
“You were even better,” Simon said from his blissed-out state.
(Y/N) chuckled and grabbed a towel before cleaning Simon up. “Thank you, my love.” (Y/N) said.
“Shower now or later?”
“In the morning,” Simon said as he opened his arms.
(Y/N) wrapped his arms around him as he lay down with him. “Hmm, whole rooms gonna stink of us, Si.” (Y/N) said.
“Fuck it,” Simon said and chuckled.
Both men rested for a few moments before falling asleep in each other's arms again.
All lines between them blurred. They had become more equal and more in love. Nothing could tear them apart now. Not John Price, not Police Chief Shephards and not (Y/N)’s family. They were a unit now. Perfect for each other and perfectly dependent on one another.
Hopefully nothing would go wrong.
Tag list:
@rasberry-jupiter @one-green-frog
#simon ghost riley x male reader#loudblondes cod mafia au#cod x male reader#cod men x male reader#simon riley x male reader#simon ‘ghost’ riley x male reader#male reader#simon riley x you#fanfiction
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💞
Summary: Steve realises he's in love with you, now he just has to tell you.
Warnings: Angst with a happy ending. Fluff.
Don't reuse, copy or repost my work.
❤️
It took Steve a while to realise he was in love with you.
With Nancy, he fell for her hard and fast but you were different.
He met you after Vecna's defeat, once The Upside Down and all the inhabitants-demobats, demogorgons, The Mindflayer were destroyed along with it.
So maybe it happened when you first started working at Family Video? The first time he met you was practically imprinted into his mind.
You were nervous, sarcastic at first and yet when you began to get to know him and Robin all that melted away.
You were funny, kind and could make him laugh when he needed it most. Just like Robin.
Unlike Robin, the two of you had a different relationship. For one thing it definitely wasn't Platonic with a capital P.
There was an underlying tension between you, touches that lingered between the two of you, loaded words and actions.
Maybe he fell for you during the nights that you spent with him, helping him through his nightmares about the Demobats.
The night terrors terrified him, he tried to hide it from Robin and the kids, Eddie talked to him about it and shared the nightmares that plagued him about his near death experience with the Demobats.
Despite Eddie trying to get him to open up, he kept his emotions bottled inside. He didn't want to worry the kids, so he pushed his feelings down, locked them away even though he knew he desperately needed to talk to someone.
His family were never the lovey dovey type, sharing emotions and fears. His father instilled in him from a young age that he had to act like a man and not the young boy he was.
"Tears are a sign of weakness and Harrington men don't show weakness son"
It was toxic bullshit but there was always a tiny part inside Steve- as much as he hated it-that wanted to make his father proud.
After many sleepless nights, reassuring Robin that he was okay, battling his rising emotions daily, it was you that broke down his facade.
You visited him at home, movies in hand and popcorn and ice cream in the other. It was an impromtu movie night you told him.
During Back to the Future you turned to him and gently interlaced your fingers with his.
"Steve, I'm here. You can talk to me anytime okay? You're exhausted and hiding how you feel and that's not healthy. If you need to vent, cry, anything at all, then just know you can talk to me''
That night he told you everything about what happened in Hawkins the last few years.
Everything from the first demogorgon he faced with Nancy and Jonathan, El, all the way to being tortured by the Russians and finally to the the demobat attack and defeating Vecna/The Upside Down.
You listened patiently, shocked but not suprised. Hawkins has seemed strange for years now, all the unexplained phenomena and deaths.
Being with you, the way that you were so gentle with him, how your hand never left his, talking about all the trauma he had been through pushed him over the edge.
For years he had looked after others, never giving himself time to process anything he had been through.
That night he cried for the first time in a long, long time.
You stayed with him and held him and after that the nights got a little easier when you were with him.
❤️
He finally realised he was in love with you a few weeks ago. After a string of just bad dates that didn't work out.
When he was talking to the women he dated there was an ache inside him that grew stronger. Honestly he just wanted to be with you.
How he didn't know sooner was a mystery according to Robin.
"You look at her like she's an angel on earth, like she hung the moon. Seriously Steve? Dustin is right do you need to be told everything?'' Robin exclaimed looking completely exasperated.
He scowls and ignores her comment, anxiety blooms inside him, he feels jittery and the fact that Tate Andrew's is in the store and flirting heavily with you only makes his mood worse.
Jealousy gnaws at him and he knows he has to make a move but the thought you might not feel the same way concerns him.
"What if she doesn't feel the same way Robin? We're friends, I don't want to ruin that'' she a softens and pats his arm.
"Steve, she looks at you the exact same way as you look at her, all longing and wistful. Take a chance. Don't be a dingus"
Tonight, he will tell you tonight.
💖
Okay, so telling you tonight didn't work out so well, nor did the fact the two of you were fighting right now.
You had a date with Tate and Steve stupidly let his jealously get the better of him when you told him.
The fact you even came to his house after the date suprised him. However, you were still very pissed off and the argument resumed.
"It's hardly fair that you get so annoyed at me going on a date when you go on like a million dates Steve. Double standard much?"
Steve didn't know what to say back to that, tried not to notice how beautiful you looked even when you were furious with him.
"They didnt mean anything, shit they were terrible. You know that" for a brief second you calm down but then you're eyes flash with pain and he moves closer to you concerned.
"Because they aren't Nancy?" he is taken aback by this, he talked to Nancy months ago and they cleared the air, renewed their friendship and agreed they were better off as friends.
They both realised a relationship would never work between them, they wanted different things.
Why were you bringing Nance up?
"What? This isn't about Nancy, I don't want Nancy" He notices the way the pain leaves your features when he says this.
"You're right, this isn't about Nancy. So let me ask why you were so against me going out tonight?" he swallows feeling himself clam up when you ask this.
"I... shit, you know how protective I am over you and...'' He trails off, Shit! This isn't how he planned this to go.
"That's all this is about? Because you're protective?" You ask him and he runs his hand through his hair, takes a deep breath and shakes his head.
"No, that's not all" He can't focus because you're so close to him and he can smell your perfume, feel heat rise in his skin as you touch his arm.
"Then what is it?" You're voice is gentle but there is a touch of curiosity, a little bit of exasperation.
"Because I love you okay? I'm in love with you, Robin said you felt the same but obviously you don't so I've just made an ass of myself" he finally let's it out and it's a relief to say it, even if you don't feel the same for him.
Nerves fill him, you gently cup his cheek and his eyes meet yours.
"You love me?" you whisper and he nods, his heart is pounding in his chest. Then you kiss him and all his fears melt away.
"Yeah, I do" He replies as he pulls you closer to him and presses a kiss to your hand.
"I love you Steve, the date with Tate was terrible, all I could think about was you" He rests his head on top of yours.
All the tension he has felt all day just melts away. He has his girl and he feels on top of the world.
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bloody love . part 3
pairing ➳ peter parker x reader
warnings ➳ hanahaki!au, unrequited love, slightly happy ending, mentions of blood, read at your own discretion.
w.c. ➳ 2.4k
summary ➳ who said love couldn’t kill?
i mean who saw this coming. but i hope you enjoy because writing hanahaki!au has been my oldest wish and here we are 🥰
part 1 | part 2 | part 4
you were there everyday.
peter saw you every day, sitting on your fire escape, your face in the palms of your hands, looking up at the starts. even though you could barely see any with the amount of pollution in the city during winters.
two months had passed since peter talked to you. really talked to you. he saw you every day in the hallways of the hell everyone called school and every night on your fire escape.
you were so close to him, yet so far as he watched you, sure to stay out of your line of sight. the superhero assured himself that it wasn’t stalking if he was on his patrol and happened to stop by a building that happened to be near your apartment building.
peter remembered the day he landed on the same place your elbows rested now, and looked for you in the dark room and he wished, every night, that he could undo whatever it was that led to this situation. or maybe he’d convince you to talk to him about your feelings as soon as he found out about the disease. or he could express his own feeling which he’d kept dismissing as a ‘silly schoolboy crush’ everytime.
he would just about do anything to get you back.
but he couldn’t think of a way. not for the past two months. not since the day you walked out on him. and as he watched you recede to your room at 09:45, just the same time as every day, he thought maybe he deserved this after all and a feeling of familiar pain took over the brunette’s lungs as he took off.
it was a good thing that ned was talking to him. because gwen wasn’t. he didn’t really expect her to after he’d ghosted her for about as long as he’d known you had feelings for him.
but ned was there. he kept trying to stay in touch even after five weeks of his friend ignoring him like the plague. peter was just grieving and forever grateful that ned understood that.
“the empire strikes back? or return of the jedi? i’m in a star wars mood today.” ned stated as he picked up the two tapes in each of his hands. saturday night was a movie night. ned had invited peter and another girl from his art class, michelle, over. peter didn’t really know her well and she didn’t seem too interested in conversation.
“when are you not in a star wars mood?” mj rolled her eyes, however a little smile played over her lips, as she skimmed through the pages of her book.
“maybe you should decide then.” ned suggested.
“fractured.” mj said within a second, shrugging her shoulders, “it’s a good one. quite underrated.”
ned seemed to think for a moment before he looked at peter, “what do you say, man?”
“i don’t mind.” peter said, giving his friend a pursed smile.
ned nodded and started the movie. as the opening credits rolled in, mj looked at ned and mouthed, “what’s his deal?”
“it’s complicated.” ned mouthed back.
peter rolled his eyes, hearing the two of them whisper around behind his back. however, he couldn’t fight what ned had said. it was complicated. and he didn’t want it to be.
and so peter decided that it was enough.
that night, on his daily patrol, he stopped by the same old building facing your apartment but this time instead of waiting for you to walk out of your window, he swung over and before he knew his fist was against your window, knocking at the glass gently until he saw a figure behind the curtains.
your figure.
you pulled the curtains apart, revealing your face and for a moment peter felt all air knocked out of his lungs. he hasn’t seen you this close since… *that* day.
“peter?” hearing your voice pulled him out of the trance he’d suddenly entered, “um, what are you doing here?”
peter remained silent as the mechanical eyes on his suit grew wider by a fraction. he had decided that he needed to fix this mess. but how; he didn’t bother to think about that. peter didn’t usually feel this nervous when he was covered top to bottom in his spandex suit but now he could feel his ragged breath against his mask.
“okay…” you stood there awkwardly, knowing peter was struggling to say something. you didn’t know why he was here but you weren’t gonna help him right now, “i don’t know what to say if you’re not gonna talk.” you gave him a pursed smile.
“i- uh. i-i want to talk.” peter laid out.
“oh, about what?”
“how’s school?” peter asked as if the past two months didn’t exist at all.
“it’s fine…” you trailed off, “boring.”
“right. i-i didn’t see you in ages.”
“i’m right here.” you nodded at him.
“nice.” peter was trying to stall the conversation but he’d run out of things to say, “listen, can we talk about…” he racked his brain to find something. *anything*
“about?”
“about you? i miss you.” peter sighed, watching your eyebrows furrow at his claim. did you not want him to miss me? did he just make a mess of the earlier mess that he was trying to solve?
he watched your fingers grip the curtains tighter, just about ready to shut it on his face, “pete, i think you should-”
“n-no, no, no. no. please. i didn’t mean that!” peter said, instantly realizing how it might have sounded, “wait, i do mean that. um, do you want me to? mean that?”
you found his nervousness adorable. it was probably easy for peter to think that it meant nothing to you but he didn’t know how easy it would be for him to crawl right back into your heart.
and that’s why you needed to stop this.
“don’t come to my balcony.” peter’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach hearing you say those words next. you weren’t even meeting his eyes as you added, “please.”
may could tell her nephew was going through a hard time. she saw him sulk around the apartment every weekend and this time around wasn’t any different. she watched him swirl around the last bits of his cereal, deep in thought, “got any plans for the weekend?”
“not really.” her nephew replied.
“what about gwen, maybe you can invite her over for dinner!” may smiled, hoping to lighten the mood.
“that was months ago.” peter stated simply, “i don’t think she’d be interested.”
“then how about we go out for dinner?”
“i appreciate you doing this for me, may, i really do but i-” he sighed, not knowing how to refuse the offer, “i’m sorry, i can’t.”
may hated to see her nephew like this. she’d always tried for him to be comfortable around her. enough to share something that was bothering him this much “just tell me what’s wrong, son.”
“well, i-it’s a long story.”
she gave him an assuring smile, “i’ve got nowhere to be.”
so he told her. he told her everything from the day he found you in your room, to the day you ran away to hide in the bathroom, to the day you left him ‘for the better’.
he just left out the detail where he was going through the same problem now.
however, he did feel lighter after sharing everything with his aunt. she tried to help by suggesting him ideas to sort the situation out between the two of you. the situation was a little too complicated. peter hated that word
the next day, as you were pulling out your physics book from your locker, you saw him approaching you again, “hey.” peter said, waving at you.
you raised your eyebrows at him, “hi?”
“walk to class with me?” he asked, hoping you’d say yes. the two of you shared ap physics so what could be the loss in walking together.
you nodded and started walking so suddenly that peter had to take a quick run to catch up to you, “look, i know we left some things unfigured and-”
“i don’t think this is the right time to talk about that.” you stated, looking straight ahead of you.
“okay. then tell me when will be the right time?” he persisted.
you sighed, finally looking at him, “peter, i told you to-”
“you told me to not come to your balcony. i’m not on your balcony.” your eyes met for a second and peter held them with so much intensity you had to look away.
you hesitated for a moment, “the fire escape. same time as yesterday.”
peter blinked, not believing you were actually ready to talk to him, “are you sure?”
“do not push it.” you shook your head at him and he knew better. so he stood there, watching you leave for a class you two shared.
he hoped tonight would make things better between the two of you.
it had become a habit for peter to land on the building in front of yours instead of directly swinging to your fire escape. he made a mental note to stop doing that.
he knocked at your window, second night in a row. you were pulling apart the curtains again and this time, you got out to the fire escape. peter jumped down from the railing and beside you.
“so?” you initiated, “what is it that you wanna talk about?”
“about you. how have you been?”
“better.” you stated, giving him a little smile, “you?”
“i’m okay.”
“for the record, i missed you too.”
“o-oh.” peter felt his cheeks warm against the material of his mask. the air was gradually turning chilly. the city was on the brink of december but it was somehow still warm. or maybe that was just peter because the next moment he found you shivering as a gust of wind passed by, rubbing your hands together, “you okay?”
you nodded, “a little cold.”
you watched as he shifted a little closer to you, your faces inches apart. you could see all the intricate designs that held his suit together, resisting yourself to reach up and trace along the web-like design, “i-it’s got an in-built heater.”
the two of you stayed in silence, you staring up at the sky like you did every day and peter couldn’t resist but say because he finally had the chance to, “you can’t even see anything up there.”
“you can actually! you just need to focus more.” you turned to face him, catching him already looking at you. you averted your gaze back to the stars quickly.
“look, there’s ursa major.” he pointed out.
“yeah! cool, right?”
“it’s actually pretty hot.” peter said, realizing you didn’t get his joke when you gave him a confused look, “well, because it’s a star and stars are… hot.” he chuckled awkwardly.
“that was a terrible joke.” you deadpanned before letting out a laugh.
“come on, you know you liked it.” peter grinned.
“absolutely not!” you laughed, further proving his point, “however it did remind me, do you want some hot chocolate?”
the two of you made your way inside through the window. peter pulled off his mask finally and you took in his appearance. his cheeks were slightly red, probably due to the cold, hair ruffled as he shook his head to let a few strands out of his face. he’d really let his hair grow out. you avoided eye contact once he caught you staring, “i’ll go get it.”
peter looked around the room. you had done some redecorating. a few of your pictures with him were missing– in fact only one picture of you two together remained on your wall and it wasn’t even the two of you it was a group photo from back when your class went on a field trip– which was a little unsettling to peter but right now, talking to you was a big enough step so he pushed all the other worries to the back of his head.
the sound of two voices arguing pulled peter out of his thoughts. the voices belonged to you and your mother, he figured, and found you two talking about him?
he heard your mom’s voice loud and clear, “then why the two mugs?”
“because i was craving two hot chocolates.” you reasoned.
“y/n. come on! the past month has been so much progress. there were no flowers, not even once!”
before peter could register whatever was happening, you rushed inside the room, slamming the door with the help of your foot as you placed the aforementioned mugs on your study table.
“you need to hide in the closet.” you hurried, pushing peter a bit towards the closet door.
“what? y/n, i’m not in the closet anymore, you know i’m bi-”
“this is not the time to make jokes, please! just hide!” you whisper yelled.
peter placed his palms on either side of your face, sensing your heart palpitating. he caressed your cheeks, way too calm as your mom knocked at your door, “hey, hey, calm down.” he took a deep breath, compelling you to do the same, “i’ll leave now, don’t worry. see you tomorrow.”
he gave you a smile, quickly making his way over to your window and stepped outside before closing the curtains just the way you kept it, while you opened the door to your room, letting your very frustrated mom inside, “where is he?”
“where is what?” you tried to act casually, “i told you i just can’t have enough of hot chocolate.”
“y/n y/l/n. where is he?” she demanded yet again.
you sighed in defeat, finding a sudden interest in the wooden floor, “he left.”
it was her turn to let out a sigh. you could tell she was disappointed because any time she wanted to express that, she addressed you by your whole name, “miss y/n y/l/n, do you know why i’d let you opt out of surgery?”
“because i wanted to?” you offered, giving her a meek smile.
“no. because you were starting to get better. you were maintaining your distance from him and you were healing.” your mother said.
if peter was anything akin to confused before, he was perplexed now. unbeknownst to the two of you, he’d listened to everything that was going on inside. the dots were connecting themselves but peter seemed to be refusing the possibility that it was all true.
you never got a surgery?
peter felt something in his chest but this feeling was different than what he’d experienced for the past two months. he felt an unprecedented warmth spread throughout his lungs.
like hope. like everything would eventually be okay.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
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Love your headcanons!! Could you do an enemies to lovers for Heimdall? 🥹
thank you for the compliment and the request!! hope you enjoy :) implied the reader is a god/goddess of some sort, or at least immortal
gn!reader | no tws | join my taglist!!
enemies to lovers with heimdall headcanons
heimdall was probably the most annoying man you've ever had the displeasure of meeting. he was cocky, arrogant and downright annoying. he always believed he was right, and it bothered you
your family was close to the allfather's, for reasons you weren't too sure of, but you met heimdall in your youth and all had been fine for awhile
growing up, you had a rivalry in your childhood, always trying to outplay one another in any activity
in your teen years, what started out as playful competition became hatred, and the two of you avoided each other like the plague
as you grew up, you became bitter rivals. he loved seeing the look on your face whenever you saw him. it would crinkle in disgust, and it was always something he enjoyed to see
he thought of you the same way you thought of him. bothersome, annoying, insufferable. your relationship would always be that way
or.. that's what he thought
every time he looked at you he was reminded of his childhood he spent with you. he remembered the little boy— who wanted nothing more than to win your heart
it bothered him to think of it now, but there was a part of him that always kept that thought
eventually, he ended up preventing you from getting injured. it wasn't going to be extensive or life threatening
you lost your footing whole sparring with him, and before he could think about his actions, his hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you back up
"don't be so clumsy next time." he would say. his face would be a light pink from the feeling of your skin against his own, but he forced himself to think nothing of it
you wondered why he had saved you from falling that day often, and the two of you began spending more time together
of course, the air was riddled with insults and snide comments to each other, but there was something else alongside it that you couldn't pinpoint
it takes a long time for him to let himself think of you in any other light. he hates the pounding of his heart whenever you walk into a room that reminds him of his feelings
he finally gives in— the idea of you too enticing for him to hang onto a petty rivalry that stemmed from being teenagers
you're surprised, of course. what had gotten into him? you tease him, saying he's going soft. he says nothing in response to you
those next few weeks after he lets himself change his mind about you are silent. you only talk to him when you need him, until you finally ask him what's wrong with him
"why are you acting so weird?" you ask, your arms crossed over your chest, brows furrowed. he knows what you mean, and all he can do is look at you
he can't admit that he wants things to change, so he says nothing. it makes you hate him more
needless to say, you don't give in to the thought of being friends with him quickly. it takes a long time for you to realize that he had been trying to change his opinion on you
you thought it was one of his tricks, but he was genuine. heimdall could be genuine? it was a shock to you, but you finally give in. he was showing emotion. it was.. weird
he has feelings for you. he won't admit them, knowing you don't reciprocate. he had just gotten out of being enemies with you, and he didn't want to fall back into it as soon as he left
he closed his heart to it. months go by before he even mentions anything about it to you
in that time, you actually warm up to him a little. he's more open. it's strange, but a welcome sight in your eyes
he'll end up telling you how he feels eventually, not able to hold it in anymore no matter how hard he tried to ignore it
you don't talk to him for a few days after his confession, trying to figure out if he was still being genuine or if he was falling back into his old ways
"were you serious?" you ask him, lips pressed into a thin line. he only nods. "okay." you swallow
you liked him too. it was the truth
you had liked him as a child, but those feelings faded when you grew into a teenager. now.. that same fuzzy feeling in your chest returned, and it was 10x worse than it was then
"i like you, too." you admit after a long moment of silence. his ears perk up, and he freezes in his seat. did he hear you correctly?
you get together officially after that, and it is a bit awkward at first. you had spent so long hating each other that love was something you couldn't imagine with him
in a way, your relationship never changed
he still teases you— but his hands are gentle. they cup your cheeks, hold onto your waist, pull you close
but.. it's so different
instead of insults spilling out of his mouth, it's compliments. he talks about his nice you look in your outfits, how pretty your eyes are, how soothing your touch is on his skin
it's strange. you didn't know what to do with yourself
but you look at him.. and all you see in his eyes is the truth. his feelings were real. you could see it.
tags: @graciegizmo3184 @anzanishira @chocokaylarobin @uncoveredsun @caelestis-lyrae @prio-motu @bluehorizon987 @freyrees @rohansregret @multifand0m-gal0re @huan-chan @onlydeas @orangeflavouredwitch @hayleethefrog @dott-up @imcomingforyourskin @itsnat-bitch @mimothemoth @elizabeth-hatake @fandomcatchall @ss-kimo @lacm-ac @thatspookyagent @kise-kae @closet-creature @judyfromfinance @hobistangerine @aikochan4859 @xoxoliyahhxoxo @lil-anxty @black-star1472 @trippingoverstars @aiciteaa @0-kheiron-0 @fennsinhumanity
#god of war x reader#gow x reader#god of war#gow#god of war heimdall x reader#heimdall gow#gow heimdall x reader#heimdall gow x reader#heimdall x reader#heimdall
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