#OR this situation where it loses half my tags | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

softandsourcream · 7 months

Text

Stop, you’re losing me~ - one

————————•。・. ゜・。_________________

Summary: The last time you saw Yoongi wasn't one of your fondest memories. And actually, you thought that after ten years you no longer had any more tears to shed for that memory, for that situation, for him.

What was the problem with meeting him again at his brother's wedding, right?

Right?

pairing: idol! yoongi x vet!f reader.

Words: 9k

genre(s): angst, hurt- comfort, slow burn, fluff, smut (+18) (not this one tho)

au(s): childhood friends - to lovers, idol yoongi, normal vet reader, entertainment industry, denial and resentment.

warnings: curse words, family drama, grief, loss of loved ones, panic/anxiety attacks, damaged mental health, a LOT of struggling. Yoongi is here to help tho♡.

author’s note: just wanna let you all now that I’m so exited that this is out now! Hope you enjoy it and if you have any suggestion just let me know! I don’t bite 🐇. Also, English it’s not my fist language, so please be patient with this dumbass

IMPORTANT: this fic contains a lot of sensitive topics touched upon explicitly. Please, if any of the tags trigger something in you, stop reading. You’re more important, and there is much more content you can consume here. Take care please! ♡

enjoy!

—————————•。・゜ one゜・__________________

main masterlist

—————————•。・゜　　　　゜・。_______________

“Where are you?”

“Outside.” In fact, he had gotten out of the car a second ago, and he wasn't going to answer, but he didn't know where they were either; the place was exaggeratedly large.

“Get in here then, you're late.”

“I’m at the entrance... where are you?” His voice breathless, he ran a lot in less than 20 minutes.

“Your brother is about to faint, so you’re going to see us easily. The first row.”

Yoongi hung up the phone, and sure enough, it wasn't difficult for him to find his family right at the end of the place. His brother looked around restlessly, probably looking for him or his fiancée, because he knew he was late, but he didn't seem to have started yet either.

His father, on the other hand, observed his brother's concern with the empty gaze he had always had from his seat, blinking slowly without saying much. He smiled a little at the scene (also a little relieved to finally be there) and started walking quickly, straight there, without looking at anyone else.

He greeted some of his aunts from afar, bowed to others he didn't know but greeted him, and ended up meeting his brother's eyes, almost finishing his journey. The concern on his face changed to one of anger, and he approached him as if suddenly he wasn't about to get married and be responsible for a family. His posture was the same as when they played as children, and his mother had to separate them for a toy.

It gave him chills.

“Hel-“

“Where the fuck were you.”

Yoongi frowned exaggeratedly at the bad word, looking at his father, who was watching everything in the same exact spot with the exact same cold and calm eyes.

“You’re not going to say anything to him?”

He didn’t respond, and Yoongi chuckled when his brother insulted him again.

“Calm down, if mom hears you, she-“

“You’re half an hour late, Min.” Finally, his father, mad. He can tell just by his voice. Yoongi shrank from the scolding and grimaced, looking at his brother.

“I’m sorry.” One. Sooner than he expected “They didn’t let me go sooner.” Greum-Jae didn't even seem interested in hearing an excuse; Yoongi had never seen him so angry before. But he still dared to continue speaking. “I get you’re mad, and I’m sorry, but don’t be mad with me right now. This is your day, we can fight later, and I’m here. I’m really sorry, for real, it wasn't my intention to ruin this for you.”

“Now it’s my job to be calm?” Jae fled from his touch. “To ignore your mistakes? You literally have one job.”

“I know I- I don’t have any other excuse, okay? I’m really sorry.”

Two.

It was subtle, but after a moment, his gaze softened, and so did his body, which was the most noticeable. Jae hugged him, and Yoongi smiled sadly, because he did feel bad, but, of course, it wasn’t the time to show it.

“You’re lucky she’s late too, and that I’m in a good mood right now.” He knows. “Missed you…”

“Me too.” His smell, his hugs, his voice. His home. He missed. “You are in a good mood, though? You look like you're about to throw up.”

He hit his shoulder, breaking the hug and getting closer to his father. Yoongi says hi to him without receiving a response, of course. He looked older and tired, which made him think about how long he had not set foot in that city. He squeezed his fist, unsettled. “I’m nervous; of course I look like that.”

Yoongi was going to ask why, genuinely interested, because he didn't understand why he should be nervous. He wasn't supposed to do anything more than 'yes, I do' and be with the person he loves most for the rest of his life. He also understood that, from the context, Yoongi would never understand it, and he didn't feel like doing it either. Also, he shouldn't be that direct, so he swallowed his question and leaned with both hands on the empty chair next to his father, placing all his weight on his arms.

He wanted to ignore the fact that he felt watched. There were a lot of people there. He hadn't taken a look to see how much he knew and how much he didn't, that was an activity he would leave for when they were dancing and there was less light. Right now he knew that everyone was looking at him, and he didn't like it because, although it was a family and private event, he couldn't completely ignore it. Photos of him would still come to light. It was, in fact, one of the discussions he had with the company days before.

“Your brother doesn't want to hear you, but I do. What is more important than your brother’s wedding now?”

Shit.

Jae was now talking to someone who came to tell him news about Eun, and he had walked away. He could only hear the echo of people talking, laughing, and happiness. Yoongi didn't want to have that conversation right now.

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

“You’re being unfair right now.”

The man sighed.

“I’m just asking, Yoongi." And his voice sounds different too, so Yoongi didn’t like it. “If I’m not right, why don’t you tell me? You know I know when you're right, and I'm not. I'm not stubborn, you're locking yourself in."

Yoongi wrinkled his nose because he was right in a way, and he hated that it was like that. It was true; he didn't know why he felt so cornered all of a sudden. Stretching his arms and looking at the ground, he became a little dizzy. His whole body suddenly hurt; maybe all the fatigue of those months came upon him.

“Working.” He was honest even so, knowing what was coming. His father didn’t move in any sense. “I was working, but it wasn't'more important than this’. They wouldn't let me go, for real.”

“You didn’t take a day off?”

“I can’t. I’m on tour right now, and I asked permission, but you know that they’re not flexible with the times.

“Just like your mother's birthday. Or every Christmas.” He sounds sad now, almost disappointed. Mad, but really sad. “We invite you, but you never come. Your brother was shaking yesterday. He really wanted to see you.”

There was silence. A big one, where you could still hear the murmurs of the people, the echo of the grandeur of the place, the clicking of heels, and the shy laughter. He gave them both time to realize where they were, that they were in suits, and that, after all, he hadn't seen that man in a long, long time.

Yoongi's apology stuck in his throat—another genuine apology.

A third.

“I'm sorry, son.” His father says instead. Yoongi had heard it a few times in his 30s. “I understand. We understand, but... we always do. Me, your mother, and your brother today. He has all the right to be mad; we all are, but you’re doing your best, and we’re getting old too.” This time he looked at him, smiling a little. Yoongi does too, but his was a sad one. “Just don’t forget about your family. I just hope I make it to your wedding too.”

“Pff.” They laughed, and the son nodded, his nose still wrinkled just thinking about it. “I can only do the first one, sorry. That’s why Jae did it first. Maybe I don't invite you to a wedding, but you have been sitting more than once watching me in a stadium with more people than here.” He looked at his brother with his eyes. He continued talking to that woman, nodding, biting his lip, having an awful time, and if it wasn't bad, then something questionable. Yoongi could swear his palms were sweating. “I honestly don't feel like... being that worried.”

His father looked nothing in the front, with a smirk on his face. Yoongi realized how old he turned again.

“You just haven't found the right person to be like this for.”

That doesn’t sound like his father. At all.

He looked at him again and couldn't say anything when his brother was already in front of them, smiling and wiping the sweat from his hands.

He knew it.

“She’s about to arrive, take your seat.”

Yoongi left the back of the chair where there was supposed to be another person there who wasn't there, and frowning, he looked around the room without really doing it, realizing that he was missing someone to greet.

“Where’s mom?”

And as if he hadn't been listening to laughter, murmurs, and voices of people for ten minutes that filled his ears non-stop, right after that question, a specific laugh seemed to answer his doubt, reversing his pressure and causing a strong shiver to run down the back of his neck.

He turned quickly, perhaps even a little disbelievingly, and then, he saw you.

Not his mother, though. Or yes, her too, but his eyes fell on you first because it was always like that, because that was your laugh, and because it was impossible not to.

Far away. The possibility of having heard your laughter was quite unlikely, even impossible. Seven or eight rows back. Of course, you were wearing baby blue, delicate, and tight. The fabric didn’t shine like your gloves do, and you had your long hair loose, tied up from the top just a little. You laughed heartily, teeth on display, his mother being the cause of your smile and your bright eyes. Such honest and grateful happiness, because why not, you both looked exaggeratedly happy to be in front of each other again. Her mother held your hands tightly, moving them up and down in time with her words, and you just nodded and responded briefly.

His heart stopped. He could swear he had even forgotten to breathe.

Yoongi didn't enjoy eye contact.

He usually runs away from it. He feels stupid, and he gets embarrassed quickly. It's a tense situation for him, but he was wishing with all his might that you two had it at that moment. That his eyes were heavy enough for you to turn to look at him and take a good look at you because your eyes had always been big and expressive, and he needed to confirm that he wasn't hallucinating.

At least that's what they were like the last time he saw them, so many years ago that he couldn't count them, and from what he saw from there, many things had changed.

You look breathtaking. You've always looked this pretty, but right now…

He didn't know if it was because he hadn't seen you in person for many years, up close, but unpleasant things were happening to him. His legs trembled when you finally looked back. Big eyes, make-up on, pretty color, and they opened, your moves frozen, and somehow, you two had an extremely uncomfortable visual conversation, as if you were face to face, and you didn't know what to say.

To his surprise, your gaze quickly changes to a more confident, almost cold look, and you bow with extreme lightness to say hello without intending to break contact. However, his mother did, hugging goodbye to you as soon as everyone started tidying up, music started playing, and Yoongi was forced to sit down, trembling, sweating, and unfocused, remembering how you looked.

He was there again, in real life, in Daegu, where he was born and grew up, where it was hot and dangerous to go out at night, where they used to live, and where he used to get lost when he could.

He had arrived that morning, but his brother, his parents, and you brought him back home.

“Shit.”

Not in a comfy, lullaby way. More like a cold water falling from the sky directly on the ground/ type of way.

He was there. You were there, feeling better than him, of course, but you don’t know. You had the whole month to mentally prepare for that reunion. Obviously you had a better handle on it, but you were also shaking, and you had to take a couple of breaths before you were ready for the wedding.

“Good?”

Seun was next to Greum when everything happened, in a way waiting as a spectator. Both in silence, from afar. Now he was waiting for you to respond, so he could start the recording in case you said something compromising. Both of you were in your assigned seats, with Jae at the altar.

“If it’s better than him, then yes, I’m great.” He laughed and checked at the entrance in case Eun was peeking out. He wanted to see her dress. You shake your shoulders, trying not to look in his direction again, releasing tension.

“Well, I don’t judge him. Jae didn’t tell him you were here.”

You scoff, “He didn’t? We're some show to you two or something?” putting your brother's arm away (with more force than necessary. It bothers you that he didn't take seriously how you felt. More now that you were especially sensitive) so you can record properly. The music began to overwhelm you a bit.

Now. Suddenly they were all in order, therefore quieter, so you two had to continue the conversation in whispers. Jae was waiting for his future wife; the doors of the place were open, but nothing was happening yet.

“He told me months ago that he wasn’t sure if he would arrive. The invitation was made, but he hasn't seen him for almost a year. When-“ he stops, unlocking his phone that had turned off for not pressing record yet, making you smile. Your older brother reminded you a lot of your father sometimes, and you rarely saw him so excited and well groomed at the same time. Your dress color and his suit matched too. His idea. “When Yoongi confirmed he was coming, Jae didn’t have the time to tell him. So yeah,” you looked at him when he did, blinking. “I know he’s feeling a lot of things right now.”

Well, that was weird.

That doesn’t sound like Yoongi, Yoongi loves his brother, his family, at least the one you know.

The type of relationship you had now (null) didn't allow you to say that out loud, and, strictly speaking, you didn't understand his reaction either. He looked genuinely surprised; it shouldn't affect him if he was the one who broke everything in the first place. You assumed it had just been the surprise, and it would take you a good stretch of the night to be able to let go of the fact that they were there, so close but so far, to let go of the possibilities of talking, hugging him, and telling him how much you had missed him, know about him, how he handled things. Just as before. Because it didn't help you to think like that, and because how pretty and beautiful your best friend looked right now, happy, in white, and excited, couldn't be placed on anything else.

You hoped you could breathe in peace for the rest of the night. Although at some point you thought you could do it without problems, because once you wiped away the tears that came out of you when you saw Eun enter and the ceremony took place, between your brother talking to you, you were laughing at him because he had also cried halfway through. On the way, the rest of your family arrived, and an inexplicable happiness that ran through you as you were surrounded by so many people that you knew and hadn't seen in years consumed you, your head stayed busy. A lot, and you still had it in mind, but you were not alone, and that made you feel good, safe, and a little calmer.

It was easy for you not to give him your night. At least the first part of it.

Apparently, after the ceremony, the party, and celebration would take place in the same place. You weren't really surprised, in fact, it moved you even more because the place was gigantic, very tall, and beautiful, almost like a theater, and there were many, many people, enough to fill the place. Not in a suffocating way, but enough to get lost. It was mostly of age, older people, maybe grandparents you hadn't managed to meet before, and then there were people directly younger, but you knew those, Seun was a people butterfly. Friends of theirs, you assumed. Actually, Seun stopped explaining who the boy was sitting next to one of her good friends when a man, tall and good-looking, started to talk on a microphone.

“Now, now, and congratulating the bride and groom once again, we would like to call the loved ones of both to say a few words before the fun part starts.

Everyone laughed, and Seun looked at you. You forgot about that part.

“Let’s start with the parents…”

“I can go for you instead.”

“It’s okay.” You smile. You knew that he was doing his best to be able to contain you, and give you the best company, despite the fact that it was not easy for him. “I’m not made of glass.” You joke, listening to Eun’s mother speak already.

And well, for him, you were. At least right now, but he didn’t say it, scoffing to hide his thoughts. “I’m trying to be good. Dad it’s watching now, I have to be an example.”

“For what.”

“Shut up, don’t be disrespectful.”

You try not to laugh. He was nervous now. You never understood why it was so difficult for him to admit that he cared for others. Not even with Jae he dared to do it, or at least that's what you thought. You didn't know how he would tell the truth in his speech.

You were the last one. You knew this because when you arrived, Jae told you. Eun wasn't supposed to know you were there. Of course, she had invited you, but she didn't know if you would finally attend because you hadn't been able to communicate with anyone these last few months. You met once, when she came to see you at your house, but you couldn't talk about much. You were on another planet, it was like your head was disconnected from your body most of the time, and she assumed you wouldn't go.

You wanted to think that she hadn't seen you when she passed, but you doubted it. With the amount of people there, and with how focused she was on Jae, it was impossible.

Still, you were nervous. When you accepted, you didn't think you would be in front of so many people. Your heart was beating.

“Is that Yoongi?” Nara, your sister, asked your mother just behind you when he got position and greeted everyone.

“Yeah. Why he wouldn't?” Your mom responded a bit confused. You could hear her smile.

“I think you all were joking when you told me he was on BTS, for real. It doesn’t look at all like the Yoongi I knew.” You hear a laugh, a gentile one, and then your other brother making fun of her behind. Your dad scolds them.

Now, you take advantage of the moment to take a better look at him.

You wanted to blame it on the fact that your sister was only nine when she met Yoongi, and every time he appeared on TV or in videos she was told it was him, she just couldn't believe it. You just hoped those were her blurry memories of him, because you couldn't see him too differently from how you remembered it.

Maybe his hair was longer, he was paler, taller, his back had grown considerably, and he had that special glow that any celebrity would have. He looked like an entire adult now, too. He wore expensive clothes and good shoes, although he didn't seem to have put any effort into his hair, or his appearance in general, he looked incredibly unreal, so much that it makes you angry.

If you thought about it enough, and if you didn't know it was him, you would’ve struggled to recognize him too. You often saw him in magazines, posters, on buildings in Busan, on train pamphlets, on your cell phone and even in medicine, but seeing him in person was overwhelming. It was like seeing a stranger you already knew, but better yet, he was there, but at the same time he wasn't.

You take a deep breath when you realize that, despite all those things, his features were still just as soft and delicate, just like his mother's.

His knuckles still turned red without much effort, and he smiled the same way, making that slight pout with his lips before crying, trying to contain it, and he wiped the tears carelessly. You found your Yoongi in the one you were looking at right now, with little things, with gestures, with details that you used to admire more than necessary, they were still there.

and it made you feel nauseous.

You blinked a few times, snapping out of your trance as everyone applauded, and realized you hadn't heard a single word. He had even cried, and you didn't know why. You saw Jae stand up as he was called to take position on the small stage, and a much louder round of applause made you jump lightly. They came from behind, just that young section that assumed they were friends of both. There were a lot of people, and it didn't surprise you that Seun was already fooling around on his way to the small stage there.

“How are you feeling, blossom?"

Your father asked, taking advantage of the fact that you turned around to look at the crowd and that your brother was not there. They were both looking at you, and the rest of your brothers were talking among themselves.

“I'm okay.” It wasn't necessarily a lie. You felt just as bad as you do every day. Besides, you knew that they were referring to something more specific (Min Yoongi) than to your general emotional state, so you smiled slightly, closed, and placed your hand on your mother's, who was on your arm. “I’m good; don’t worry.”

As you predicted, Seun's speech was so unserious and absurd that it's not worth dwelling on. For some reason, everyone was laughing with him, he had livened up the atmosphere and unintentionally infected everyone with joy.

He soon returned to his seat and sat still with applause in the background. You couldn't believe it.

“I don’t get why he’s still your friend.”

“We’re in love, sister.” He asure. “This wedding is for three people. They will never get rid of me.”

“Shut up.”

“Now.” The good-looking man says “Briefly before eating and doing fun things, we have one more person who wants to wish you both the best, of course.”

You can see Eun’s confused look at her husband now, and he quickly grabs her hand. Your heart was ricing, you felt your mother's hand on your shoulder.

“Park ___, please."

Eun almost jumped from her seat, looking around, looking for you. You also saw someone else look for you in the crowd when you were getting up a little stiff because of your dress. You say sorry to an old woman right in front of you, who you accidentally hit softly because Seun didn’t move at the right moment.

“Oh my god.”

You didn't have time to get halfway down the hall to the front when a large white dress ran towards you to hug you. You smiled at the impact because you were a little taken aback by how strong it came and how big her dress was. You smiled when you already had her in your arms.

“You have been here all this time?”

“Of carouse.”

“Oh my god, thank you…” she softly says, hugging you even harder.

“I wouldn’t miss the happiest moment of your life.”

Because it had cost you, but you had arrived. Was she crying? Thank goodness people were still clapping because of the moving nature of the situation, and they couldn't hear you. You were trying so hard not to cry too.

If you did it, you wouldn't stop.

“I know you-“

“It’s okay.” You stopped her. “I’m okay.”

You squeezed her waist as a signal for you to start moving, and she moved away from you to caress your face lovingly and look at you like... most people have looked at you lately with pity and kissed your forehead.

Pity.

She took your hand, and the entire way, you could feel Yoongi's gaze on you. From the moment she hugged you until she kissed you and started leading you forward, like an exhibition, heavy, right next to you. He made you feel small, it was silly.

“Now stop crying; I haven't said anything yet.” You start, with the microphone in your hands, making everybody laugh, the couple too, Jae helping her with the tears. The place was in silence, the lights, the eyes, and the attention were just on you. So you take a deep breath and unfold the paper you’ve got prepared. “I- uh~” a sigh. “I don’t know how people do this without crying, I- okay.” You were nervous, but the place laughed again, so it gave you time to breathe.

“I still remember you both being taller than me, smarter than me, and older than me. I know that deep down all of you were so done of me, right behind there too,” all those people scream from behind, and you laugh. “because I used to talk a lot, and I carry my toys everywhere, so I can show it to all of you, and I made too many questions for people who are starting to be teenagers and want to look cool, but I wasn’t. I didn’t even care, I remember that. I was the pain in the ass that comes with Seun. Just a plus because Seun it’s a bother himself.” The aforementioned rolled his eyes, and you waited for there to be silence so you could continue. “I understand that now, and I just came here to apologize.”

The atmosphere after the laughter was now a little solemn, and in contrast to your brother, you were capable of poisoning the things you touched, and those who knew you knew that. You could see the newlyweds were a little worried, but you kept smiling, giving them confidence that nothing bad was going to happen. At least that wasn't your intention.

“Sorry for being the impediment for you to go out late at night or for having to return early from wherever we were... I- was with you.” Uh. You try to keep the smile. Shit, “sorry for being so annoying, and sorry for the fact that I didn't care. Because as much as I didn't like being with you sometimes, the best part of my day was watching you eat at my table, or Mrs. Min organizing my birthdays, and everyone coming with gifts that I genuinely liked because you all heard what I was saying even if I was giving you a headache.”

Unintentionally, you met those eyes again from afar, just when you were trying to control that lump in your throat because the worst part was coming, and you didn't know if you were ready. You said the following while still looking at Yoongi, not at you, surprisingly. “I miss it. I really do, and I’m so grateful that I carry all that with me.”

You look at the paper, change the page, and breathe. So you try once “I-“ and twice. “I- um…” a shaking breath sounds everywhere, reading the words, but you just can’t. “Sorry~” you're softly trying to laugh as you cry start, and you feel so stupid for breaking in front of a lot of people. No because it was bad, everybody there cried before you, but not because of the same thing.

“I love you!” You didn’t know who it was, but you smiled and responded with a really quiet and shaking'me too', giving you time to breathe as everybody laughed, and the atmosphere eased.

“Okay.” You say more to yourself, but you have a mic on your mouth, of course. “I didn’t write this part alone. Kija he… he is my twin, so of course he was with me in all of this story, but when he got sick and we were writing this months ago, he told me that I didn’t mention him in all this because it was going to be about me, not him… he’s kinda dumb.”

You laugh, trying not to tear up. You were holding the next tears, but like, fighting demons and everything to not cry. You, for real, didn’t want to cry in front of all those people. Your voice was obviously trapped in your chest, and it was shaking, but you couldn't do anything but breathe. You just have to be quick.

“But he told me that he wanted to tell you both that he and I were very proud to have seen you grow together, hate each other together, and deny that you liked each other together and today, for me, seeing you two married means a lot. I adore you two with all my heart. Congratulations, and I know you’re going to do a great job. I'm sure Kija would have done a better job telling him in person, but I'm here for him, so you know. He would- have loved to come, I have no doubt. Be happy, please, and no babies yet; I’m not ready.”

You didn’t remember anything after that, which means two things:

One, you need to calm down because two, you weren’t fine.

You remember the hug, and a few words both of them told you, and all the looks people gave you just after that, full of sadness and compassion (which was the first thing that made you want to run away). And at the party, you dance because you enjoy it, and you feel a little better, but people stop you all the time to give you their condolences because “they didn’t know”.

The cake was cut, the presentation was done, and you could only come back to the moment when you had your first drink of whiskey, and your body told you that it wasn’t a good idea. Your heart was fast in your chest, that would only make it worse with alcohol.

You need to breathe.

“Sorry, what?!”

You scream behind the music. Some girl named Hwan stopped you. (It came right at the beginning, when Seun was next to you, and you were pretending to listen to how she had recently graduated. Poor girl, honestly, she looks kind and lovely.) with two glasses of tequila and some salt in her hand.

“My friend!” She said. “I lost him, so take this!”

And then:

“Hurry! I have to go for more before they run out!” You were too agitated for this. This is a bad idea ___. “c’mon c’mon honey!”

Your hands were tingling, your breathing was short, and you were afraid. You had tried to go to the bathroom, but it was full, and it was even more claustrophobic than all those people. Right next to it, there were some stairs that you assumed went up to the balconies that surrounded the place. You were very grateful that it was high, enough to encapsulate the music on the floor below, and you heard it as if you were listening from a glass.

Or was it you?

You leaned on the railing and began to sweat. You closed your eyes, trying to calm down little by little, to look for things to think about, to feel something other than fear and anguish at the same time, but it was impossible, completely, and that made you even more desperate. You were breathing as if you had just run for two hours non-stop, and there came a point where your legs couldn't support your body. You couldn't feel your hands, cried a lot, trying to catch air, moaned in terror.

“please please please… stop just-“

You were trying not to faint, you were on the edge of a high place, and it was now dark for those below. It was when you felt like you really couldn't do anything. That you tried to stand back in case your body gave way forward, and it wasn't more dangerous when you felt hands on your stomach directly and the warmth of a body behind you.

A warm feeling that felt like burning on a straight fire

“Easy~ here,” you heard, far away from you, just like the music in a glass. The only thing that told you that he was literally glued to you was his touch. “Can you feel my hand?” You didn't respond, trying to run away. You didn’t want to be touched. “Hey, it’s okay, you’re safe. If you want to feel better, you have to answer me, okay?”

“Hmm” a moan full of pain, was not even an answer.

“Okay?” They asked again. This time you nodded and felt the hand move on your stomach, the fingers more than anything, like playing a piano. Soft, but rough at the same time. “Can you feel it?” Your two hands were placed on his in an attempt to find support; you couldn't feel your legs, and after giving him an affirmative answer with your head, you complained again, your head was about to explode. “Move my hand with your stomach as you breathe.” And you did. Erratic and desperate “That’s good, but try it slower. Focus on moving it, not on breathing.”

“I- I ca-“

"Yes, you can. You do it every day; come on.”

You know, you just didn’t want to be there.

You try your best to move his hand. It was hard because you were sobbing, and trying your best to not think too much. So you closed your eyes, exhausted, and concentrated on the warmth that the stranger was giving you and the hold that, while at first it felt overwhelming and suffocating, now it helped. You felt stronger, even though you were about to faint.

So you moved the hand, and it worked.

“Good~ breathe.”

The air filled your lungs little by little, your head began to quiet, and the music entered your ears at a decent volume considering how far you were from the ground. Your hands were cold, they were shaking, but you could move them, and you still couldn't feel your legs, but you could hear the trembling of your breathing and how your nervous system was trying to regulate itself, blocking your crying in your chest.

You were exhausted, god, you would sleep there if you could.

“Better?”

And then you realize.

You know that voice.

It was soft, deep, and in your ear. So close that if you turned to see him, both of you would collide. His hands were bigger than they used to be and softer to the touch, pale on your baby blue dress, no scrapes like you used to heal, he’s no longer biting his nails.

‘Shit’

“Don’t touch me.” You said. He tense.

“If I let you go, you will fall. You're not even holding yourself up.”

He was right. And you hate it.

“What are you doing here.”

Your voice sounded agitated, almost like a whisper. You still didn't dare open your eyes; your eyelids were heavy, and the fear of facing him so close made you delirious. Even though you had your back turned to him, you felt him snort.

“God. You’re welcome?” You clung tighter to his hand. It's just that you got dizzy, and he held you when he felt you give way to the left. “I should ask that. You almost passed out on the railing, idiot, that's… fucked up.”

He calls you an idiot? You were too weak to call him something worse.

So you only say "sorry." Instead, letting him go finally, and you tried to stand up by yourself, but you wobbled

“Okay, okay, please don’t. I’m gonna…” His hands took place on your hips to guide you to some chairs in the corner, which you didn't see at first, of course. You weren't sure if his touch hurt more now that you were more conscious or before, when you were overstimulated. Felt the same, honestly. “Be careful, they look old.” You walked as he commanded, and once you sat down, you heard him say something you couldn't decipher. You finally opened your eyes to ask, but there was no sign of anyone.

Sighing, you rested your head in your hands and closed your eyes again. You didn't know if you were still dizzy and weak or if you felt that way because you were already drunk. They both make sense to you.

You heard noise after a few seconds and looked up. Finally, Yoongi's silhouette appeared in the hallway, he had things in his hands, and he was looking at the glass of water, concentrating so that nothing would fall on the floor.

“I’m definitely too drunk for this.”

This can't be happening to you. Could not.

“I put ice on it, so you can chew. It will help.”

His voice sounded unfriendly to what he was saying. Not angry or indifferent, but rather nervous and tense, as if he were speaking by opening his mouth a little, trying to make you believe that it was no a big deal, as always, but his nervousness didn't allow him to fool you. You raised your eyes to look at his, and he turned them away once you brought them together. You tried to hide a smile as you received the glass. Of course, he couldn't look you in the eyes. He cleared his throat, finally watching you receive the water, trembling in your hold. He tries to hold it from below in case you drop it.

You took a sip.

“Your makeup is smudged.”

Of course. You must have been looking stupid.

“What is that?"

He was offering you something, like toilet paper, but softer on a package. You couldn't see very well, it was just white.

“I’m not really sure.” He confesses. “I take them from the bathroom. They’re damp.”

You touch it with two of your fingers, just to not be rude, honestly.

“Thanks, but I can’t really see myself here.” There was no mirror, and if there was, it was dark. The only lights there were those on the dance floor, which were colored and did not shine directly on the place you two were having this... moment. “I don’t really care though, I’m living soon anyway”

He didn't insist, putting the package in his pocket. You maintained a silence that would have been more awkward if the music downstairs wasn't on, and if you didn't have anything to chew at that moment. Neither of you dared to look at each other, or start a conversation because it wasn't even enough for something cordial. You didn't have the strength to get up and run away, but just when you were going to tell him that you were okay, and he could leave, he took something out of his pocket.

Now you are invested.

“You mind if I smoke?”

You looked at him from there, taking time to process the information. You shook your head slightly, maybe even confused, but there was no point in being.

“Can you even smoke here?”

The place was big but closed, you didn't know if it was allowed.

“I doubt it.”

“Since when do you smoke?” You dared to ask.

“I don’t.”

No, because he hates the smell. His mother has smoked since ever. Yoongi hates that the smell gets stuck in everything and everywhere. No matter how much his mother smoked outside the house, he always ended up with his school clothes smelling like cigarettes. It was inevitable. He always complained.

There you were watching him right now, right in profile, blowing smoke from his cigarette as if he did it every day, even though he said he doesn't. Arms resting on the railing, well-dressed, looking anywhere but at you.

You wanted to stop assuming that this Yoongi was the same one who had left years ago. Because you didn't know, you were both two completely new people, total strangers who knew nothing about each other, yet, you wanted to think that, if that were the case, he would have already left. He usually walks away from what he doesn't care about or doesn't like, that's what he did with you when he left, because that's how you felt. It was nice to believe that he was now there himself because he wanted to be, but it didn't help you to think about it, not now. Just because he was there didn't mean he was back in your life, and as silly as it sounded, your brain didn't understand that. It was your job to stop him from believing something like that.

You chew ice.

“I don’t want to ruin the party for you. Go ahead.” Your voice is still dumb. He was watching the people dancing from there, now he was looking at you, smoking the cigarette between his fingers without understanding what you meant. “I’m feeling better, you can go.”

“Okay.” He directed his body directly towards you. Unintentionally intimidating. “Do you want me to go?”

His presence made you anxious.

“Yes. But if I’m honest, I don’t really want to be alone right now.” He hums. “But I have seven siblings, and all of them are downstairs right now. I can call any of them.”

“They will scold you for not saying anything and me for not seeking help.”

“I know.” He looked at you, quietly. “I just don’t want to... keep you here. Have some fun.”

He shook his head, looking away.

“It’s okay. I was here first, drinking. Then you came. You scared me.”

You blink a few times. “You’ve spent all the night in here?”

“Most of it.” You followed his eyes down on the first floor, full of people. You could see everything from there. If you focused on one person, you could easily track them. “Enough to watch you dance and get drunk.”

“Creep.” He smiles a little.

“That’s why I wasn’t sure it was you. I went to get my whiskey, and I swear I saw you two minutes before taking a shot of tequila. I thought you were just drunk.”

You frowned, settling into the couch. You felt genuinely bad.

“Now I’m scared. For real.”

“Not intentional. I can literally watch my brother kiss Eun from here every five minutes, even if I don’t want to.” Yoongi plays with his ice, then drinks the rest in one go.

You gulped.

Thinking about it more was counterproductive for your mental health, you knew it, you understood it, it was practically self-sabotage, but right now, you gave yourself perhaps ten seconds to admire the beauty that Min Yoongi carried all by himself.

He looked so different, and everything that had changed elevated his beauty to places... god. You had met at a very young age too, in years, you could also say that you had changed enough to be mentioned at some point by a family member who hadn't seen you in a while, for example. You are an adult now, but it was impressive.

To think that you stopped seeing Yoongi right when he was being built into an idol says a lot. Everything about him looked expensive and well cared for, his soft hair, smooth skin, long eyelashes, immaculate hands, as if they were not obliged to do anything that would harm them. How his throat moved as the drink passed into his system, the lack of reaction of his features despite being strong, and having drunk almost half of the short glass.

The feeling that rose to your stomach made you come back, and from well-being, it turned into discomfort in your chest. He was there, he looked so attractive, and you couldn't do anything.

You couldn’t hug him, tell him how much you missed him and hit him nonstop because even when you’re still so into him, you were hurt too, and this situation was so out of your hands.

“I’d liked your speech. It was good.”

You wanted to tell him that you hadn't done it alone, but why would you do that? You didn't answer.

“You’re still writing?”

This time, you denied it almost instinctively. The truth is, you didn't want to give additional information to, in a way, a stranger, but you had already screwed up. “No. A long time ago I-“ stopped when you left, but of course you kept quiet.

When it was about Yoongi and whether you thought about the young you who loved that person in front of you so much and how dependent you were on someone who didn't care how you felt, it made you feel so stupid. And it didn't really make sense because you were young and inexperienced, and you had an important bond, so of course you will be hurt, you had more compassion than resentment. But still,

“-just don’t do it anymore.”

You didn't want to feel that weak again. He nodded.

“Why haven't you left if you don't want to be here?” You changed the topic. You weren't looking at him, but you felt his attention return to you, and he responded with his silence, then you looked up, and he avoided you again. “You're still not a party guy?” He didn't respond again, knowing that you knew the answer, so you smiled. “Yeah, you weren't either back then.” You say that just for yourself.

“I want to, though. Hyung it’s happy, and I haven't seen my family in a long time. My dad told me he was waiting for my wedding too. I stayed so maybe the event convinced me.”

“Your dad?” He nodded in disbelief as well. “That doesn’t sound like your dad. And also, the event?” A snort left your mouth as he looked at you, nodding. “ I don’t think it’s just about the event, you know?”

“Yeah. He told me that too.”

You laughed this time. You like that men.

“That doesn’t sound like him either.”

“I know.”

You missed Yoongi’s parents. They were so different from yours.

“You were, I remember.”

“What.”

“A party person. I always went with you and watched you dance because I didn't like it. Then we would leave late and buy ice cream at the convenience store downtown because you always craved some.” You nodded, trying to manage the pain that the memory caused you. “I've never seen you cry in one before.”

You played with the ice that was left, because the question was not directly a question, it was more of a mention, perhaps so as not to ignore what just happened. He knew you wouldn't answer and that you shouldn't either. You wrinkled your nose, uncomfortable.

“Where do you learn all of it?”

Containment, you meant.

“Hm.” He took a second. “These ten years have been interesting.” A laugh, and you try your best again. “I saw a member of our staff do it to Jungkook once, the first time. We were very young, but I’ve never forgotten it in case it happened again. It happened a couple of times after that, so I… know.”

And it's as if the anguish you had come back to you once you touched where his hands were for the first time in 10 years, and you had to close your eyes just because you felt upset. You didn't want to be there, you remembered. Not only because you didn't want to see him, but because you didn't feel well, and you put him over your emotions again.

Fucking hell.

“Your brother it’s looking for you.” You nodded, opening your eyes slightly.

“Of course he is…” you murmured, overwhelmed, trying to stand up. But you were feeling bad again, so you waited a little.

“Do you want me to-“

“No.”

You didn't know why you were so angry all of a sudden. Your heart was beating again, you started to feel warm even though the place was quite cold because of how big it was, and you were actually grateful that they cared about you, but you had spent all those months feeling like a burden to others.

You tried not to cause too many problems, you didn't want that kind of attention, especially after having been living alone, away from your family for so long, to live with them again. You went from making your own food to your mother having to sit next to you so you could eat something. From leaving early to work to not even knowing what time it was. From calling them to tell them good things, to having to pretend to sleep so as not to receive questions you didn't want to answer. You couldn't take care of yourself, it was something that you were having a hard time facing, because you wanted to do it, to be well so as not to be the burden of your family, but the pain you had was still just as big, and heavy, and it enveloped your entire chest. Squeezing. It didn't let you swallow, speak, cry, or breathe.

You were crying again. This time in silence, you didn't care that Yoongi was watching you in silence too, not knowing what to do.

"Where's the… dump thing you bought.”

He reacted a little slowly but quickly, searching for it, taking it out of his jacket pocket. You nodded.

“Can you clean my face, please? I don’t want to look like this when he finds me, and he will if I go to the bathroom right now.”

That one seemed to get him out of somewhere, because it did take him longer to process the information. He was standing with the towels in his hand and blinking, almost like a cat, a confused one. He didn't say anything, and you didn't think you had said anything wrong, so you got scared, and you wondered if maybe you, in fact, said something wrong.

“I can try, though. You don’t-“

“I’ll do it.”

He sits on the coffee table in front of you. You can smell his strong and manly cologne, and if you raised your eyes to his face enough, you could see him up close, closer than you had for many years again. Older, smelling that way, his marked features but you didn't. Of course not.

You close your eyes.

The two of you were silent, and it took you a few minutes to begin to feel the softness with which he ran over your face, the left side of your cheek, extremely light, almost afraid to touch you. You opened your eyes, and he wasn't looking where he was supposed to clean.

He looked at your face, carefully, perhaps making sure it was really you who was in front of him. He stopped his hand when your eyes connected, and it lasted only a few seconds, but you felt so much tension that you even doubted if it was wrong for you to pretend as if you didn't have things to talk about, before having any kind of contact. Whatever it was.

After that, he looked at you with pity.

The last one that night, you decide.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

You were stronger than him when it came to holding a gaze. He has always been the first to escape, which is why your gaze was very intense, heavy, and powerful. You could do it because you felt it was the most honest way to know if someone could handle you.

“Sorry.”

Yoongi had never been able to look at you for more than five seconds.

He resumed his work with the same smoothness. The music returned to your ears, and you returned to your place, to your life, to the now and to how your body was screaming to get out of there. You closed your eyes, chest tight and hands tense, trying to control their shaking.

You have bigger things to cry about right now than this. You had done it for a long time now; you had no more tears to cry for Min Yoongi, no reason to be nervous anymore, and no reason why you couldn't live in peace anymore.

“I’m sorry about Kija.” His voice was smooth, almost lullaby. He sounds nervous too, and just because of that, your response was also automatic. If it had been genuine, you would have had another panic attack right there.

“It’s okay.”

‘You are grieving. Don't expect anything better. Let us help you’

They were all grieving too.

“And I’m sorry I wasn’t- I didn’t know.”

There. Was there when you wanted to scream and punch him so hard enough to make him feel guilty.

“What do you mean.” To be honest, it doesn't even surprise you. You sensed it, but you had the small hope that he saw it… at least. “I texted you. Jae- he give me your number. I was waiting for you at his funeral.”

“Y/N…”

“It’s okay.”

You said instead. Yoongi looked terrified.

“I-“ he cut himself. “…was-“

You take his hand softly, stopping him. “It’s okay, Yoongi.”

“Wait.” One of his hands is on your wrist, preventing you from getting up. You didn't feel good, but you would do anything to get out of there. Still, you sat back down because you didn’t expect it.

“I’m sorry.”

Three.

The only thing you could hear was your heart beating; everything went quiet, and the words went away, an echo.

“It’s” You were far enough away to miss his scent or to see his new appearance. It was as if he disappeared into the darkness. “okay.”

And it was okay, not because that was exactly how it was, but because it didn't matter. It was okay because it didn't matter if he responded or not, he didn't have to. You were the one who was doing wrong by continuing to trust someone who had already failed you many times, and now you were choosing not to fall for anything sure.

It was okay, because there was no important bond that bonded you two, and allowed you to do bad things where there was nothing good to destroy.

And it was okay, because you simply didn't want to continue having him in front of you, talking about one of the most important people in your life, and seeing how he looked at you with pity. So it was okay.

But Yoongi had said sorry three times that day, and he hadn't been able to genuinely fix any of them.

—————————•。・. ゜・。_______________

teaser masterlist two

—————————•。・. ゜・。_______________

#yoongi au #yoongi fic #bts fic #yoongi smut #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #bts headcanons #bts yoongi #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi series #min yoongi #slow burn

375 notes · View notes

myfictionaldreams · 1 year

Text

Last Hope Ch. 2 // Mafia!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

(Chapter 1)

Summary: Before dating Steve and Bucky, your life felt like a steel cage that you couldn't escape from because of your family business. There was no happiness or hope but, what happens when the infamously heartless mafia leader, Steve Rogers, finds you alone?

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, fluff, abusive brother, emotional manipulation/abuse, murder/violence, blood/injury, protective steve rogers, hurt/comfort, losing virginity, oral (f receiving), fingering, intense sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, handjob, size difference, praise kink

Words: 7.8k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

As you spoke on the phone with Enzo, Steve went to find Bucky and inform him and the rest of the gang as to what was happening and then you all moved to a different room down the hall where a lengthy table, suitable for the meeting, lay in the centre of the room.

Steve directed you to take the seat to his right and then Bucky sat to his left, as the leader sat at the head of the table. You were even more nervous now this was happening than before, needing to hold onto Steve’s hand to find some comfort. Even though telling Steve had gone better than you could have ever hoped for, now the main reason for all of this happening in the first place was going to take place and you had no idea what was in store from Enzo’s participation. Then there was Steve, who had made it very clear that this was going to be a version of him that you’d never seen before but this didn’t worry you, not when you’ve grown up with Enzo’s vile, nasty side.

Half an hour passed and one of the Rogers gang announced that Enzo had arrived with 5 of his guards. You sat up straighter in your chair, planning to move your hand out of Steve’s grasp, expecting him to want to be professional about the situation but his hand only tightened around yours and when you looked at him, he gave you a small smile before his metaphorical mask slipped on.

A couple of minutes later, Enzo swaggered in with the confidence and arrogance of someone in control, his 5 guards on his heels. But, then his smile dropped slightly as he spotted yours and Steve’s hand and also noticed the fact that Steve failed to stand and greet him.

Pulling back the chair to the side of yours, Enzo greeted through gritted teeth, “Hello sweet sister”, as he kissed the top of your head, a move that he had never done before and was only doing it to show some kind of dominance that you were family and his before you were Steve’s.

As he settled into his chair and the other gang members sat in the remaining seats, you took note of the fact that only Steve and Bucky were present from his gang and pride bloomed in your chest that they felt confident enough to take on all of Enzo and his team by themselves.

Enzo shifted in his seat so he was more facing you than Steve as he suggested, “Why don’t you wait outside for me, dear sister?”

“She’s not going anywhere”, Steve’s voice was authoritative as he gently squeezed your hand, a sign that you took that he wanted you to stay.

You didn’t look to see Enzo’s reaction as he continued talking, “It’s a nice place you’ve got here Rogers. I drive past here all of the time”.

Steve ignored the casual comments, cutting straight to the point, “You wanted this meeting and you’ve got it. Start talking”.

His voice was full of power that seemed to direct straight to your core with his easily he seemed to control the room, your eyes never strayed from his but you did have to readjust in your seat to cross your legs, subtly as to be able to squeeze your thighs together. Steve’s blue eyes momentarily dropped from yours to look at your lap before looking back up and you saw the corner of his lip twist up a tiny bit, almost like he had read your mind and sensed your arousal.

“Rumour has it, you’ve had a shipment in from Ireland”, Enzo’s dreary voice cut through the tension between you and the Rogers mafia boss who now looked towards the man to your right with disdain.

Steve neither confirm nor denied this and continued to stare him down, along with Bucky. Your heart was beating faster as you knew they were reacting this volatile because of you.

Enzo continued, “And if it has arrived, there are things in that container that belong to me but for some reason, when I sent someone to collect my belongings the other day, your team had already claimed the objects as theirs so I’ve had to run around like a lackey and arrange this meeting so I can ask: why the fuck have you stolen my stuff?”

You flinched at hearing the lack of respect towards Steve. Even though they were both leaders of their own mafias and controlled large areas, it was clear in this situation that Steve was in charge, they were in his borough, in his building, with his team just outside of the door, your brother wasn’t being particularly smart.

Steve finally moved but only to lean forward in his chair, slow methodical movements. “You have a hell of a lot of nerve coming here and then demanding ANYTHING from me”. His voice was calm and yet laced with death as he stared daggers at Enzo. “If I recall, we imported stolen goods from Ireland that arrived in MY port and not yours and had MY name on the container. There was not a single mention of ‘Enzo’ property, nothing on the receipts or claims made on arrival so explain to me, why I should believe a single fucking word to come out of your cowardly little mouth”.

Your breaths came out in heavy bursts as you looked between both men, but you weren’t scared even with Enzo walking on thin ice. It was Steve’s utter domination that had your core warming and you weren’t at all embarrassed by it, Steve was really starting to take over your emotions.

Enzo and his guards became noticeably tenser, all leaning further in their chairs, causing the leather material to squeak, looking at the man to your right, you knew he was just inching to reach for his gun but the holsters strapped to his chest were empty as they had been checked for weapons on entry to the building.

“Do you really think I’m going to let you speak to me like that?” the vein began to bulge in Enoz’s forehead as his anger peaked.

Steve smirked arrogantly, leaning back in his chair, “I can talk to you however I like, you’re in my office, demanding my property. What is it? Don’t you like it when someone speaks back to you? Or have you just got so used to talking to your sister like dirt that you’ve forgotten what it’s like when someone your size stands up to you? You’re a coward. How in any way did you think you had the upper hand here, little boy? Now I want you to take your pathetic men here, get the fuck out of my office and NEVER dirty my air with your presence again. This meeting is over”.

Bucky stood as Steve finished talking, moving towards the door and opening it, allowing more of the gang to open and chaperone Enzo’s gang out. You were completely captivated by Steve, so much so, that you were shocked out of your staring contest with him as your chair was forcibly moved back by Enzo. “Come on, let’s go”, he mumbled, grabbing your other hand and forcing you to stand.

“Don’t fucking touch her”, Steve raged, standing so hard that his chair tipped over, eyes bulging as he stepped closer but you quickly raised your hands onto his chest, stopping his movements.

“It’s ok, Steve, I’ll talk to you later”, you raised your eyebrows so he could understand your secret reference, one unanswered call and he would come and find you. You of course wanted to stay with Steve but it would probably be better for you in the long run to go with Enzo now than face his wrath later on.

You were dragged towards the door as Enzo declared, “This isn’t over Rogers, I’ll get what I want in the end, I always do”.

Steve reluctantly watched you leave, feeling sick to his stomach, knowing that letting you go was the wrong move but had to trust you. However, as he watched the cars driving away on CCTV, he couldn’t stand it anymore as he rushed towards his car with Bucky and Sam trailing behind, “Something isn’t right, I just know it isn’t. Even if we just watch from the streets, I need to make sure everything is ok”. Steve explained to the other two, beginning to speed off to catch up with the car you’d left in.

Ღ

Enzo didn’t say a single word the entire drive home, but you didn’t necessarily care, still reeling from the meeting you’d just been involved in and coming to terms with the dynamic shift between you and Steve.

Your heart was racing with anticipation to be in your bedroom and call Steve, already craving to hear his voice again and to plan when you were going to see him next. Tomorrow was sure to be a difficult day and it was obvious that you and Enzo would have to discuss whatever it was that you had with Steve and its consequences for his gang but that didn’t bother you right now, knowing that Enzo would most likely be going to strop in his home bar, drowning his sorrows in liquor.

Returning home, you were three steps inside the house before a tight grip was on the back of your neck, forcing you in the direction of his office. Once inside you were pushed hard enough that you lost your footing and skidded to the floor, the wooden flooring burning against your exposed knees as Enzo locked the door behind him.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” you shout but are then cut off as he’s suddenly on top of you, his knee pressing hard into your stomach to keep you still and hand strongly gripping your face, forcing you to look at him as you try and fail to pull on his wrists.

“I give you everything you could have ever wanted and this is how you pay me back?” he shouted at the top of his voice, specs of spit flying out and hitting your face. “You have no one except me in the world and you fucking betray me for them? I bet you told them everything didn’t you? Been playing double agent and betraying your own fucking brother, you whore!”

You're frantically trying to get away from him but he’s so much stronger than you, it was no use, he didn’t budge so instead, you tried to reach for your phone but it slid across the floor when you fell. Then you heard it, over the sounds of your ranting brother, your phone began to ring and you prayed to whoever was listening that it was Steve as it rang and rang until stopping.

You weren’t able to hear if it began ringing again Enzo screamed only inches from your face, his eyes venomous, “After everything I’ve given you, all I ever ask are small things in return for the benefit of this gang but no- you’re just some stupid little whore who can’t even keep her legs closed for another gang, is that your plan? To move onto them when you’re done with me?! You’ve got another thing coming-”, Enzo pushed your face away so your head knocked to the floor, not hard enough to do any damage but it was the raised fist that was planning to do that as you began begging for him to stop.

“Please Enzo stop- Please!”

Before Enzo could do any damage with his fists, gunfire could be heard ringing through from the rest of the building, men shouting and then being silenced almost immediately before the office door was brutally kicked open, the lock failing to keep the intruder at bay.

You sobbed Steve’s name as he entered, his eyes ablaze with anger as he saw Enzo still kneeling over you with his fist raised. Steve held his gun confidently in his two hands, taking less than a second to aim and shoot, the bullet striking home in Enzo’s shoulder, knocking him off balance and freeing you of the hold.

Desperately you crawled towards Steve who was by your side instantly, hands cupping your cheeks checking for any injuries, “are you ok?”

“I think so”, you gripped his shirt tightly, not wanting to let him go but as Enzo groaned from behind you and Steve’s attention returned to him, you knew he wouldn’t be by your side for much longer.

“Everything ok?” Bucky’s voice was heard over Steve’s shoulder as he entered the room, blood coating the front of his shirt as he held a knife in either hand.

“You’re safe now, sweetheart. Bucky take her to the car”, Steve demanded, gently pushing you in his direction but you held your ground, not wanting to leave his side.

“No, I don’t want to go without you!”

Steve looked away from Enzo and tried to soften his gaze down at you, his hand cupping your cheek, “I don’t want you to see me like this, I’m going to lose control, I don’t want you to be scared of me”.

You grab his wrist as you try to sound confident, even if you were still crying, “I’m not scared of you Steve!”

Before you were able to continue, the man lying on the floor with blood pooling beneath him, seemed to recover from the shock of being shot as he began to try and stand but only managed to rise to his knees as he shouted, “You bitch! You’re working with them? I was right to think you’d use your cunt against me- AH!”

Bucky’s knife was now imbedded in his other shoulder as he effortlessly threw it across the room, the force knocking Enzo onto his back and cutting off whatever he was going to say.

“That’s not how you speak to a lady, you fucking asshole”, Bucky gruffly shouted. Your emotions were completely overwhelmed but you managed to squeeze Steve’s hand, showing him that you weren’t scared of whatever side he wanted to show.

He finally looked away from you towards his friend, signalling him over to stand next to you so that Steve could go over to Enzo who was groaning in agony on the floor. Bucky’s arm grazed yours, letting you know he was there as Steve gripped the front of Enzo’s shirt, easily lifting him up and slamming on top of his desk, causing the injured man to scream out in pain.

“You’re a slimy little worm, not just a coward but a fucking scumbag for treating her like that, making her use her body to get what YOU wanted. The only thing you deserve is the treatment I’m about to give you”, Steve’s venomous voice was drowned out by Enzo’s screams of agony as the man standing over him pushed against the bullet hole in his shoulder.

You’d never seen him look weak before, and maybe there was something wrong with you because you didn’t feel bad at all for your so-called brother, watching him bleeding out. Enzo seemed to then remember that you were siblings as his reaction changed, knowing he was losing, “are you just going to stand there? I’m your brother, come and help me!”

Steve’s punch to the nose swiftly shut him up, “Don’t speak to her, don’t even look at her again, you’ve lost that privilege”. Enzo to his credit was still trying to fight back but was losing too much blood to be of equal power to his opponent and finally lost his energy, slumping back into the desk.

Steve let go of his front so that he could lean down to whisper threats into his ear, “I want this to hurt, I want you to beg for forgiveness for treating her the way you have. I want you to suffer just as you’ve made her suffer for all of these years. And please just know this, I’m going to give her the life she deserved and not once will she ever think about your miserable existence ever again. You have lost, your team have lost, you’ll be the but to everyone’s jokes in the community, you selfish fuck.”

This was the Mafia boss that had a ferocious reputation, for being cold-hearted and violent. However, he wasn’t being cold-heart, in fact, all of his actions today were through passion and an obsessive amount of protection for someone he had only truly known for a few days, but Steve hated assholes like this, that only thought about themselves and would hurt even their loved ones to get what they wanted, Enzo deserved this.

Speaking of, the man began to openly cry and there was no denying that the sight was satisfying to you, maybe you were as cold-hearted as Steve but why should you care when Enzo was able to so easily hurt and manipulate you.

You were done. Done with being in the room. Done with looking at the man you had once called Brother, and you finally felt the release of being tied to this godforsaken gang. Looking towards Bucky, who still looked at the situation with such venom it would have made you recoil, instead, you leaned further into his arm, catching his attention, his frown softening as he looked at you.

“Could you… please could we leave?”

Steve’s eyes snapped up to yours and you smiled gently at him, making sure he knew it wasn’t his actions that were making you want to leave, you were just ready to never see Enzo again.

“Yeah, come on mama, let’s get you out of here”, Bucky placed an arm around your shoulders and directed you towards the exit. That nickname that he used, mama, sounded almost right and filled you with warmth with how good it sounded coming from his mouth, that he felt comfortable enough with you to call you an affectionate name.

“Do you want to pack your stuff up? I know Steve would get you anything you needed if you didn’t want to do that right now,” Bucky asked as you both walked past Sam who nodded and joined Steve in the room, attempting to shut the kicked-in door to quieten the screams that were coming from within. The rest of the house wasn’t any better with its heavy violence as bodies and blood lay everywhere, too many to count and you had to give Steve, Bucky and Sam credit, how three guys could easily overthrow so many people without a single scratch.

You thought about Bucky’s questions, did you even have anything that you needed here? Everything would remind you of the life you hated but then one thought came into your mind, “yeah, I just need one thing”. He followed you silently, you couldn’t even hear his footsteps which was unnerving, having to check over your shoulder to check he was still there as you walked to your bedroom, picking up Steve’s white jacket and holding it close. “This is it, I don’t need anything else”.

“Is this your room? It’s so small and where are your pictures or things that you enjoy?”, your cheeks warmed at Bucky's observations and looked around your room. It was the smallest room in the entire building, just large enough to fit a single bed and chest of drawers.

You shrugged, “Enzo said we shouldn’t have times for things we enjoy when there was still work to do”. Bucky’s jaw clenched, rolling his shoulders to relieve some built tension as he whispered under his breath, ‘asshole’, before holding his arm out for you to lead the way.

Bucky led you to the SUV you’d seen the other day, helping you into the passenger seat before climbing into the driver's side. From there, he turned on the car, putting the heaters on to warm up your exhausted body, knees burning from where they had burned across the floor, and a few layers of skin had ripped. Bucky then picked a random radio station that helped to ease the tense atmosphere and act as a distraction. You watched Bucky move, he seemed to have been prepared for this, as he pulled out a water bottle from the compartment, and a cloth which he damped and then handed the bottle for you to drink from.

“You’ve got some blood on you, let me clean you up”, Bucky with surprising gentleness began to wipe away where Enzo’s blood had sprayed across your face when Steve had arrived and shot him in the shoulder.

“Why are you being so kind to me? You don’t really know me, or Steve for that matter, and you’re willing to destroy another gang just to same me… why?”

“Because I’ve never seen Steve look at someone the way he looks at you”, was all Bucky said and all he needed to say.

Another hour passed and you were close to falling asleep when the back doors opened and Sam and Steve climbed into the car, both covered in blood which was unnerving, to say the least. “All good?” Bucky asked over his shoulder. You were thankful that he didn’t ask for details, you weren’t sure if you wanted to know what had actually happened.

“Yeah, take us home please Buck”, Steve replied whilst looking at you, offering a small smile even though he looked like he’d been bathed in blood, you still managed to find it endearing, maybe you were just as messed up as him. Leaning over to the back, you reached with your hand which he accepted straight away, you could feel the mixture of wet and dried blood across his skin but you didn’t care, holding his hand the entire drive back to his home.

Steve’s home was beautiful, with guards at the entrance, a couple of garages, and a front garden that was beautifully designed you couldn’t wait to see the back yard if it looked anything the same as this. The house itself was stunning, not too big and not too small either, but it was clear that Steve liked to live comfortably in luxury.

Bucky and Sam stayed in the car, saying they’ll return and clean up the mess, leaving Steve to lead the way into his home. “Do they ever sleep?” you jokingly asked Steve as your eyes widened in awe at what you saw.

Standing in the entryway, you looked to your right where the living room was, a large couch facing towards a TV mantled to the wall, two armchairs on either side of the couch and a small wooden table stretched in the middle. To your left, there was another room that you couldn’t quite see into but it looked like a dining room that could seat at least 15 people. Leading further into the house, walking past the stairs to the second floor, you gasped at the beautiful kitchen, thick slabs of white marble countertops and an island separating the kitchen from the dinner table.

“Your home is beautiful”, you praised as he continued the tour, which was an odd sight considering he was still covered in blood. You were right, the back garden was huge and beautiful, with trees and flowers surrounding the edge. There was even a gym in the basement and then upstairs, there were 3 guest bedrooms, two toilets and then Steve’s bedroom.

His bed was massive, but you guessed he was a tall guy and needed the space. Along opposite walls, there were built-in wardrobes, a TV just as big as the one downstairs was attached to the wall opposite the bed and there was a door leading to an en-suite bathroom that had one of the biggest baths you’d ever seen, it could probably fit three of Steve, as well as the shower area. Everything about this building was perfect for you.

“I’m just going to shower, feel free to be a snoop and go through my draws”, he said lightheartedly, walking into the ensuite and shutting the door behind him.

You contemplated doing just that but as you sat on the edge of the bed, exhaustion hit you like a train, the day's events going through your mind but there was just too much to process. And what was going to happen now? Would Steve let you stay or would you need to find somewhere else? What even were you and Steve anyway?

As you were inspecting your grazed knees, Steve returned from the bathroom, a towel wrapped loosely over his hips and your mouth instantly watered at his broad, chiselled chest that was slightly damp with mist, his hair was towel-dried and gave him a softer look as the ends of his hair curled slightly.

“Sorry, forgot my change of clothes… are you ok? Do they hurt?” he asked quickly, approaching and kneeling before you, inspecting your knees as he saw the injuries.

You were momentarily caught off guard with him on his knees, his warm hands touching your skin was enough to send a gush of wetness between your legs. When you didn’t answer, Steve looked up, seeing your flushed expression, a smirk replacing the worried expression on his face seemed to snap you out of your hypnotic state.

“Yeah, it’s fine, it just stings but I’ve had worse from tripping over my own feet”.

The two of you stayed in an comfortable silence, both having so much more to say but not entirely sure where to begin.

“I don’t know-”

“Please don’t-”

You both chuckled having begun talking to one another at the same time. Steve took the lead by saying, “Sorry, you go first”. Your mind went blank again as his thumb idly stroked against your inner knee from where he casually rested his hands against you still and you tried not to let your eyes wander to where his towel had parted to reveal his own muscular thigh.

“I don’t want to know what you’ve done to him, I don’t care what you’ve done but I just wanted to say thank you for saving me. If there’s anything I can do to repay you for all of this I-”

He covered your mouth with a single finger, cutting off your words. “I don’t need you to repay me, I just want to know that you’re safe and happy”.

You could feel your chest warming with that unknown sensation you’d been feeling every time you were with him and you realised it was that spark of hope, blossoming and spreading with each passing moment that you spent together. Trying to keep the happy tears at bay, you took a deep breath and asked, “So what happens now?”

“We can talk about everything tomorrow but you’re welcome to stay here for as long or as little as you like.” He asked curiously.

“I feel like I should be crying in sadness but I can’t, I don’t have those emotions at all. You must think there's something wrong with me”, you admitted.

“You’ve just seen me shoot and beat a guy, and you think I would be judging you?”, you laughed at the absurdity of his words, he did make a very good point, closing your eyes and smiling leaning in closer to his touch, resting your forehead against his, in an intimate touch that still felt incredibly right.

“You have a good point.”.

As the two of you stayed like that for a moment, you savoured the fresh smell of him and the feeling of his hands still on your knees. Steve’s voice came as a deep whisper as he asked, “What’s going through your head right now?” and before you could stop yourself, you began to spill exactly what you were thinking.

“I can’t believe how natural and normal it feels to be with you, it’s like I’m craving to even be in the same room as you let alone feel your touch. I’ve never been intimate with anyone before but here, right now, it feels right. Sorry I know I’m moving fast, I just don’t want to miss any opportunities that come our way”.

Instead of verbally answering, Steve grasped your hand and held it against his chest, directly over his heart and after the initial touch that made your hands tingle, realising you were touching his naked chest, you then concentrated on the pounding beneath your palm. His heart seemed to be beating as hard and at an accelerated rate to match yours. Steve was showing you just how much he felt the same as you, even without words you knew what he was trying to say.

It was like an invisible lasso was thrown around your body, drawing you closer as you reacted on instinct, leaning forward, needing to touch him, wanting to feel more of him as both of you met in the middle once more, lips connecting.

It wasn’t as frantic as your previous kiss, Steve remained on his knees, one hand reaching to cup your cheek, holding you against him as he slowly kissed you, taking his time to memorise how your lips felt against his, your taste, even the feeling of your pulse against your throat, he wanted to know it all, wanted to feel it all.

You were doing your own exploration as Steve nipped on your lower lip, your fingers travelling across his chest, even though you were nervous to feel more of him, unsure if you were doing the right thing, you gave in to your temptations and felt over the hard muscles, every so often coming across a scar from an old injury.

As Steve pulled away, allowing you to breathe, almost dizzy with the lack of oxygen, you audibly mewled as his mouth left wet kisses against your cheek, jaw and throat. Both of his hands were now tilting your head back, giving him better access and you were more than happy to provide this for him. You wanted everything he was willing to give you as your arousal pooled in your panties, your legs spreading wider to pull him closer.

This seemed to draw some realisation back as he hovered over the shell of your ears, “You’ve been through a lot today, I don’t want to hurt you”.

“You won’t hurt me, I know you won’t, please- I want this Steve, I want you, I trust you”.

Steve groaned at your words, rising higher on his knees to brush his chest against your clothed one but it caused the material of your bra to rub against your pebbled nipples, as his mouth latched onto yours once more. His calloused hands brushed higher up the outside of your thighs, easing the material of your dress with his movements.

You had never wanted anything so desperately before in your life, his touch leaves a heated path as your fingers delved into his damp hair, nails scratching against his scalp, holding his face against yours, tongues stroking against one another.

Steve’s fingers found what they were looking for as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and you didn’t need to be told to lift your hips as you did it automatically so that he could drag them down your legs. As the material was parted from your body, Steve groaned as he felt just how damp they were, holding them tightly in his grip as he didn’t want to be separated from your evidence of arousal.

You groaned as Steve pulled back from the touch, tilting your head towards him, encouraging you to open your eyes which you did, “if you want me to stop, please say, ok?”

“Yes, but please, don’t stop”, you breathed in response.

Your heart felt like it was pounding in your throat as you watched Steve move back slightly, helping your legs over his shoulders so that you had to leave your weight back onto your arms as he gave you one sultry wink before diving beneath the skirts of your dress.

The material acted as a barrier between the two of you, which slightly helped your anxiety slightly as you didn’t feel pressured with your responses and the fact that you could feel his lips trailing further up your inner thighs. Your hips bucked, not realising just how sensitive the skin was there but then your mind went completely blank as you could feel his breath against your exposed core.

Another beat later and his tongue was licking up the entire length of your cunt, from bottom to top, pushing slightly with the tip so he could tease your most sensitive parts. The joints of your elbows buckled at the pleasure as you collapsed back onto the bed, hands instead gripping the sheets beneath.

This new position gave Steve more room, his hands enveloping over your clothed hips to keep you still as you desperately wanted to grind against his face but he was taking his time, not wanting to rush.

You tasted just as he imagined, hell, even better than he had imagined, instantly addicted to it and the sweet moans you were releasing, glad that you weren’t holding them back. His cock was painfully hard, veins bulging and precum leaking down his shaft, and he had to remove the towel, needing to feel some freedom, but he didn’t touch himself, he wanted to make sure all the pleasure was given to you.

His tongue explored you thoroughly, first licking up your juices and you could hear him audibly swallow as he did which made you clench hard around nothing. You’d touched yourself before, but nothing that could have felt this good before.

Steve then teased your hole, swirling around the edge a couple of times to relax you further before pushing in, feeling just how tight you were. Your back ached at the feeling of something ward penetrating your body.

“Steve!”, you gasped and he groaned as you said his name, his cock throbbing again.

His tongue explored your hole, moving in and out steadily, before licking up your folds and to your clit. The first touch was a testing stroke but then he couldn’t wait any longer to hear just how good it felt as he rolled the bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, around and around in a slow circle before latching his lips around it and sucking gently.

You let out a desperate moan, hand dropping to his head that was still covered by your dress but you needed to see him so rushed to pull your dress up until it rested around your hips. “Fuck, yes!” you moaned seeing him smirking from between your legs, a memory you’re never going to remember.

Your entire body felt like it was on fire with how much he was pleasuring you, your heels digging into his broad shoulder blades, one hand in his hand and the other grabbed onto his fingers that rested on your hips. You could feel the tightening in your core, thighs shaking with anticipation.

“I’m gonna… I think I’m-”, your were a bumbling mess as you tried to warn him that you were going to orgasm but he held steady, didn’t change his pace, making sure to build you up perfectly with his continued strokes of his tongue against your clit.

Your eyes clenched closed as everything was so overwhelming, feeling like you were going to explode as you finally came, back arching, toes curling and a constant stream of moans coming from your lips as he held you through your orgasm.

As you tried to catch your breath, Steve unlatched himself from between your legs, admiring your beautiful, blissed-out face as you looked down at him with glazed happy eyes, a shy smile on your face.

Steve crawled up your body, easing your dress up with him and then discarding it to the side, and you could now see that he was completely naked, his cock size making your eyes widen in shock, mouth dropping over to verbally express your admiration for his member but his lips cut you off. You groaned and your stomach twisted as you could taste yourself on his lips, it all felt unbelievably hot. Steve rested his weight on an arm next to your head, leaning on his hip next to yours as he began to explore the rest of your body, his tongue licking your nipple over your laced bra, your last piece of clothing.

You whined at the touch and reached to the front, undoing the clasp that was between your breasts. It was Steve’s turn to groan now as he looked between your exposed tits, admiring them before worshipping them both in turn.

You wanted nothing more then to return the favour of his pleasures but you were still slightly nervous with knowing what to do and with the position, you couldn’t reach his cock so you trailed your hands over his shoulders, scratching lightly and loving when he shivered at the touch, he was just as responsive as you were.

Steve eased one of your thighs open, giving him better access to your cunt and finally, his fingers began to explore the area you wanted him to return to. His thumb brushed against your clit, being careful as you were a little sensitive from his mouth but soon melted into the touch.

He made sure to build your pleasure again before moving his finger down to your hole, resting it against the area. His fingers were a lot thicker than yours and would definitely be the biggest thing to have penetrated you but you wanted this so bad so as he removed his mouth from your breast to look into your eyes, making sure his movements were still ok, you made sure to tell him, “please don’t stop”.

Steve leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes boring into yours as he half covered your body with his so that you were in a tight cocoon of purely Steve as he tentiatevly eased his middle finger into your cunt.

With how aroused you were, it wasn’t painful, your walls stretching around him happily but you still had to take a couple of deep breaths to regain control of your thoughts. Your hands cupped his cheeks and you pulled him back into a frantic kiss, groaning at the back of your throat as he began to simultaneously circle your clit with his thumb and ease his finger in and out, allowing you to get used to the sensation.

As your hips began rolling with the touch, wanting more, Steve eased his ring finger beside his middle one, pushing it into your entrance. You pulled back from the kiss to gasp, sucking in air greedily as your eyebrows knitted together with how intense the stretch was.

“Shhh, you’re ok baby, relax, it’ll feel better in a minute”, Steve encouraged and you made a conscious effort to relax your tense muscles and after a couple more rocking back and forth with his fingers, you found his words to be true as desperate pleasure pooled throughout your abdomen.

“Mmm, need you Steve, want to feel you”, you desperately whined.

“Not yet sweetheart, need to make sure you’re prepped for me, don’t want to hurt you”, he mumbled against your throat where he began sucking.

Before you could try begging again, Steve’s fingers began curling, hitting directly against the spot within that you loved so much and with his thumbs movements, you were crying out instantly, holding onto him as your cunt fluttered around him with your impending orgasm.

“I can feel you squeezing around my fingers, baby, don’t hold back from me, cum for me, I want to hear your pretty little moans”, Steve encouraged from above you.

Your moans were anything but little as your ears rang with how loud you cried out, so sensitive from being stretched and orgasm so quickly after the first, your entire body was light with pleasure. Steve's fingers stilled inside of you but his thumb didn’t stop moving as you came and as he began to praise you in your ear, you thought you were going to cum again with how much they affected you. “You did so well baby, such a good girl taking my mouth and fingers. Are you ok?”

“Ye-yes”, you stuttered, trying to get your bearings but it was difficult as your body trembled and felt weak, your legs wobbling when you tried to move them.

“Do you want to stop? I don’t mind-”

“Don’t fucking stop…please”, you added at the end of your outburst but he still chuckled, kissing the pulse point along your neck before helping you further up his bed, until you head rested on the pillow. Steve made out with you slowly, crawling over your body, your legs shifting up until they rested on his thighs and you could feel the heaviness of his cock as it rested on your abdomen.

Breaking the kiss, you looked down your body, asking, “Can I touch it?”

Steve groaned, pecking your temple before nodding. You’d never done this before and maybe he could sense your trepidation as he began to guide your hand, showing you how to wrap your hand around his shaft. It was softer than you thought but the thickness and hardness beneath the skin layers. Steve squeezed your hand harder than you thought as well before he seemed satisfied with the pressure, guiding you to move it up and down and you took note of the way his hips bucked as your hand moved over his tip before moving back down. It was almost hypnotising watching Steve being pleasured, knowing he was one of the most dangerous men in all of New York, and here you were, making his cock throb due to your actions.

A dribble of precum leaked for the tip of Steve’s tip and your thumb caught it, spreading it over his sensitive end but then he quickly pulled your hand off, closing his eyes in concentration, “fuck, I was going to cum already, watching your hands on my cock as fueled my dreams for longer then you’d think”.

Your confidence beamed at his compliment, biting your lip as you looked up at him trying to compose himself before he dipped his lips down and captured yours, lowering his body until you were chest to chest and even that was an intimate enough act of feeling your breasts against his pecs. “Are you on birth control? There’s a condom in my wallet downstairs if you aren’t”, Steve suddenly asked, through all the lust nearly forgetting about protection.

This was something that had completely slipped your mind as well and you were thankful for him checking with you, “I’ve been on birth control for a few years”, you admitted, but this was only because Enzo had forced you to in case anything happened on these dates he sent you on but now you were thankful for this precaution.

Steve grinned, lips back to moving against yours, and then his hips shifted and his cock was prodding at your hole.

Steve pulled back from the kiss, making sure to see your emotions so that if you were in pain he would slow down or stop. Your hands rested on his shoulders, still wanting this, as you gave Steve a smile and a nod to show your feelings and he began to slip his cock into you.

It was intense that was for sure. His fingers were one thing but his cock, the sheer girth of it you never thought it would move past the tip but as he stroked a hand down your side, you relaxed a little more and more of him entered you. It was uncomfortable at first, your thighs trembling as they tried to remain open for him but as he remained still with more than half of his length inside, the discomfort shifted and you had the overwhelming urge, needing more, needing to feel him move.

It was your turn to shift your hips, attempting to roll your hips but it was difficult with your already trembling body and Steve took the hint and began pulling out.

He thankfully fucked you slowly, each thrust opened you up more so his cock slipped further in until his tip was brushing against your cervix. You were happy to go at this slower pace for your first time having sex, already feeling sensitive from Steve’s mouth and fingers, you didn’t want to be fucked hard and be in pain later on. Also, seeing Steve being so tentative with his movements and caring, it made you cling to him harder, groaning his name into his ear.

Being stretched so much around his cock, your orgasm felt different with your walls desperately clenching around Steve that he grunted with how hard you squeezed around him. It took your breath away, the pure pleasure felt through every nerve of your body, you’d never experienced anything like it.

Steve’s hand rested on your thigh, clenching hard as he tried to will himself to hold back from cumming so quickly, not wanting you to think he had a low stamina but feeling how tight you were, he couldn’t hold it, his balls tightening into his body and cock throbbing. You could feel the wetness of Steve’s cum coating your cunt, as he tipped his head back, shouting your name out in one of the most beautiful views you’d ever experienced.

You were slightly thankful that he had also came, not sure that you could take much more pleasure before you were a cock-drunk mess.

“Fuck”, Steve chanted as he pulled his cock out, watching between your legs as his cum spilt out of your hole. “Are you ok, baby?”

“Yeah”, you grinned up at him with half-lidded eyes. Steve grinned back, leaning down to kiss you slowly before rolling off the bed and pulling on a pair of underwear that he retrieved from his wardrobe.

“Put your arms around my neck, don’t worry about the mess”, you did as instructed, confused by his last few words but as he picked you up, you could feel his cum dripping out and onto the floor beneath. Once again, you were thankful for Steve as he placed you onto the toilet, leaving you to clean yourself up, knowing that you definitely would struggle to walk properly.

After helping you back to bed, you were still completely naked as Steve wrapped around you, the side lights still on as you both just basked in each other's company.

Once more, you thought about how natural this felt, to be with him, in this room, in his arms. That spark was alight from within.

“Did you mean it when you said you would be mine?” Steve asked, his voice thick with exhaustion. Stroking his arm, you meant every word that came out of your mouth.

“I’m yours”.

#mafia au #steve rogers smut #mafia steve rogers #mafia bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #bucky fic #marvel smut #marvel fic #mine*#steve rogers

747 notes · View notes

seabirdtxt · 7 months

Text

.Irminsul --amend -m 'Scaramouche'

Nahida has called in the book club to try and start discussions about the Creator's situation. Cyno actually kinda knows what he's talking about and Alhaitham is... mostly there for moral support... [< prev] [Blog Tag] [next >]

Notes: SAGAU, reader is the Creator but no cult shenanigans. Separate warning for my writing being all over the place on this one. all relationships are currently platonic!

WC. 2.6k

----- ⚘ -----

There’s not much to do except wait for Alhaitham and Cyno to show up, unfortunately, so you have taken to chatting with Nahida and Aranyani about some of the games and toys that exist back on Earth. Aranyani seems to be interested in the mechanics of each, comparing them to existing games in Teyvat, while Nahida is more interested in trying them out for herself, someday.

Scaramouche doesn’t seem interested in the conversation, but he sits with the three of you anyway and watches the shadows of birds moving beyond the stained glass windows.

You’d just been explaining the concept of the rubix cube and algorithms to the two gods when a sure knock is heard on the sanctuary doors. Scaramouche takes the opportunity to make his escape from the conversation, shuffling to the door and opening it for the newcomers.

Cyno steps in, followed by Alhaitham, and the two of them hold each other at a polite distance as they walk down toward the dais, where the rest of you stand to greet them.

“Hello, my friends!” Nahida exclaims, smiling brightly and clasping her hands together even as she and Aranyani take a gracious step back to allow you and the newcomers space. “Thank you so much for being here! We have a lot to discuss!”

“We came as soon as we heard,” Cyno replies, nodding. He then turns to you with a little salute. “Your Grace, it is an honor to be in your presence.”

You put your hands up placatingly. “Please, there’s no need for formality…” you say, shuffling awkwardly on the spot as everyone looks at you. You clear your throat and gesture for the newcomers to continue.

“We heard about the circumstances after your arrival in Teyvat,” Alhaitham states, stepping around Cyno, stopping at his side and crossing his arms. Straight to the point. “Do you remember the circumstances that led up to your descent? It might help point toward the root cause, and shed light on the ‘how’s and ‘why’s.”

“Uh, good question,” you mutter, scratching your head about it for a second. “I was probably hanging out in my room or something, really. Playing, uh, games on my phone.”

You wonder if it’s too early to mention that said game was Genshin, AKA. controlling their world. You know they’re marginally self-aware, but the extent of which still escapes you.

“Alright, and did you do anything different while you were playing on this ‘phone’? See anything strange?” Cyno picks up, pulling out a small notepad and quill. “Anything out of the ordinary, things that you don’t normally do or notice.”

“Well, my phone has been glitching a lot when I play games, lately,” you muse. “And I kept getting these buggy screens while I was in-game, but I figured that was just because my device was overheating or something. You know, they build them faulty on purpose so they can sell you a new one every few years? Apparently in France or something they made companies give people the right to repair their own phones, but we don’t have that where I live…”

Cyno writes down most of the first half of what you say, but you seem to lose the crowd as you ramble. He looks up from his notepad to fix you with a level stare, though you can tell there's just a hint of confusion behind his expression.

“Can you say something that makes sense to people who live in this world?” Scaramouche interjects somewhere in the middle of your rambling, the first time he spoke since you guys first teleported to the Sanctuary of Surasthana. “Or at least stay on topic, or something.”

“Oh,” you reply, blinking. “Right.”

Cyno nods to you again, though he keeps glancing at Scaramouche out of the corner of his eye. Alhaitham doesn’t bother with subtlety, fixing the Balladeer with a level, analytical stare. Cyno clears his throat after a few seconds of awkward silence, preparing his notepad once more. “So, you were saying you played on this ‘phone’ device, aside from the problem you noticed, was there anything else you did differently?”

“Not really,” you shrug. “I was playing the game like I normally would, doing commissions and stuff. No, wait, actually I did do something a bit weird.”

This causes Cyno to perk up, and he leans forward onto the balls of his feet as he listens attentively.

“Because the game was overheating my phone, my ping was super slow,” you explain. “So I was lagging pretty badly. I was doing one of the leylines in the jungle and I was spamming the interact button on the flower because I was getting impatient…”

“And then?”

“... And then I think another dialogue box popped up, but I didn’t notice what it said.” You finish, sighing. “After that, I just remember waking up beside a leyline thingy right here in Teyvat.”

“Do you remember the exact location of the leyline?” Alhaitham asks, to which you shake your head.

“The Traveler and Wanderer found me not too long after that, and took me straight to the city. They probably have a better idea than I do, honestly. I didn’t really have a chance to figure out where I was, at the time…”

“Do you recall any distinctive landmarks? Anything that stood out in an otherwise unremarkable location?”

You shake your head again, trying to remember what you saw. “No, uh, I was a little bit distracted by discovering I was suddenly in- uh, in Teyvat, and-”

“So you were not already aware of your location when you descended?” Cyno clarifies. You nod quickly.

“I only figured out it was Sumeru when the Traveler started bringing me closer to the city,” you agree, wringing your hands nervously under the general’s gaze. “The few little houses and tents that started popping up, the architecture kinda gave it away…”

“Were there any inconsistencies you noticed between your knowledge of Teyvat and the actual Teyvat when you arrived?” Cyno asks, his head tilted to the side ever so slightly. “Just to make sure you’re in the correct version.”

“Well, funny you should mention that,” you figure it wouldn’t hurt to share this, given the result of it sitting right next to you. Out of the corner of your eye, Nahida is giving you a thumbs up. “I got hurt touching a leyline, not the same one as when I first got here, though! I got a little cut on my hand, because the leaves are a bit sharper than I was expecting…”

Alhaitham’s attention shifts from the Balladeer back to you. “What happened when you were injured?”

“I, uh, I accidentally made Irminsul recover some deleted information.” You simplify as best as you can. “And now there’s several things that were added back to the world that aren’t technically supposed to be here...”

“I’ve never heard of leylines doing that, before,” Cyno remarks. “Then again, it’s not every day the Creator descends to Teyvat.”

“Have you tried going back to the same location to see if it yields reverse results?” Alhaitham wonders aloud, seeming amused by the strange predicament.

“And what is that supposed to achieve?” Scaramouche interrupts again, snorting as he crosses his arms. “Besides going for a leisurely stroll through the jungle, I mean. Irminsul already recovered the missing data, and the location itself doesn’t matter, if you haven’t noticed already, since you can find a leyline just about anywhere.”

“It’s certainly an unprecedented behavior for leylines,” Cyno agrees. “But again, the Creator has never descended before-”

“We heard you the first time,” Scaramouche deadpans, earning him a smack upside the head courtesy of you. “Ow! Do you want to figure this stuff out or not?”

“Be nice,” you grumble, though you do feel slightly annoyed at the repetitive line of questioning. “He’s just ruling things out, right?” You turn to Cyno, nodding encouragingly for him to continue.

“Ley lines are a complicated but fascinating subject to study,” Cyno states, crossing his arms and tucking his notebook under one elbow. “However, I’m afraid interdimensional travel is a little bit outside Spantamad’s realm of expertise.”

“Honestly, that’s fair,” you give a resigned sigh, but Scaramouche cuts you off.

“But how’s that supposed to help you?” He sneers and rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “It’s like you want to be stuck here forever with no explanation for how you got here in the first place.”

“Can we just chalk it up to magic or something?” You ask sheepishly, a little embarrassed at having taken the time out of two of Sumeru’s most important figures’ days.

“I was looking forward to hearing about how you got into this predicament with your own two idiot hands, honestly.”

“What I want to know,” Alhaitham suddenly interjects, surprising everyone else with his initiative. “Is how the Creator and the Dendro archon are here, cozying up to a Fatui harbinger?”

Four pairs of eyes blink at him in surprise, while Cyno nods in agreement.

“I think that’s the more pressing matter, here,” he agrees, and you can sense the tingle of static in the air as his previously-relaxed grip on his notebook starts to tighten.

“Okay, see, that’s one of the things I was talking about!” You say quickly, the words leaving you in a rush in hopes of stemming the building tension in the sanctuary. “He was a harbinger before, but he’s all better now!”

“You say that like it was an illness,” Scaramouche snorts, to which you can only laugh.

“Yeah? As if you didn’t act a little bit sick in the hea-”

Nahida, who up until now has been doing an excellent job of pretending to mind her own business, decides to chime in before the general can come to his own conclusion.

“I apologize for not warning you two earlier, but I do have it on good authority—that authority being myself,” she hides her giggle with the palm of her hand, “that the Balladeer poses no harm to either of you, or the Creator!”

“It’s also kinda my fault that he’s here, so I mean…” You trail off and give an apologetic shrug.

“How did you know I was a harbinger?” Scaramouche’s eyes narrow at Alhaitham and he crosses his arms as well, mirroring both the scribe and Cyno. “As far as I've been told, the memory of ‘me’ was erased from Irminsul.”

Cyno shakes his head. “No, there is recorded evidence of the Balladeer’s involvement with the sages’ god-creation plan,” he corrects, relaxing very slightly after Nahida’s reassurance but not dropping his guard completely.

“I was present at the time of the Traveler’s investigation of the Joruri workshop, where they confronted the mechanical false god,” Alhaitham adds. “The person who fell from the machine indeed bears striking resemblance to you, but was confirmed to not be the Balladeer himself. However, Lord Kusanali’s own interjection confirms that you are indeed the Balladeer.”

“He’s been reformed,” you say cheerfully, but your mind is running a mile a minute. Evidently Nahida and Aranyani are on the same page, because the two goddesses drift closer with curious looks on their faces.

“So Irminsul has already started patching the holes in Teyvat’s history,” Nahida muses, hands on her hips. “It’s much faster than I anticipated, given the circumstances.”

“Not as surprising as you would think, little sprout,” Aranyani pats her head. “Irminsul is capable of very rapid computation, but the problem lies in resolving as many conflicting histories as possible. Two is faster, but three will cause some things to be shuffled around for a few days, still. The justification of the existence of multiple incarnations of the Balladeer may yet be subject to change.”

“So you’re saying that what we currently perceive as fact, is instead false?” Cyno asks, having retrieved his notebook once more. As the goddesses continue to muse on the subject, he writes down their theories and makes some notes of his own.

“I’d say sorry for that workshop fight,” Scaramouche says, addressing Alhaitham with a smug grin. “But I honestly didn’t even remember you being there. I guess you just weren’t that noteworthy to me at the time. No hard feelings, right?”

Alhaitham doesn’t even bother to grace him with a look, much to Scaramouche’s annoyance. Instead, the scribe quietly listens in on the Irminsul discussion.

Meanwhile, you try to remember what team you had when you took on the Archon quest fight. It’s been a while since then, and you’re not sure if you’re thinking of the right fight. Maybe you used Alhaitham in one of your weeklies? Speaking of which, do those boss fights exist in the world of Teyvat, or is that just for you as a player of the game? If they exist, how do the characters feel having to go beat up the same people on a weekly basis? What about the characters who are weekly bosses, like Wanderer, Childe, and Ei?

Thinking about it is starting to give you a headache.

You decide to tune back in as Nahida and Aranyani finish bouncing ideas between themselves, with Cyno furiously scribbling annotations in the margins of his notepad. What was it they were talking about again? You get the sense that maybe you should've paid a bit more attention.

“- that’s the case, then we should contact Inazuma and see if there is a new history that came up.” Cyno offers, to which Nahida shakes her head.

“If we ask directly, the answer we will get is the same.” She explains, wringing her tiny hands. “To them, this knowledge will have always existed. They will perceive it as an unchanged fact, in the same way you and the Scribe believe the circumstances of the Balladeer to be a fact. The better people to ask would be the ones involved in the anomaly.”

“Alright, and how do we find them?”

“See, that’s the funny part…” You begin, only to be interrupted by a sudden swirling pressure in the chamber.

It’s strange to see the teleportation from an outside perspective. You watch as Wanderer shimmers into existence, adjusting his hat. The metal charms on the ends of it chime as they settle. He looks up, catching sight of you first and raises a hand to wave, only to stop short when he sees the other guests.

“... Looks like I’m late to the party,” he remarks, drifting over to Nahida’s side. “Wanna catch me up to speed? Not that I care, but I might as well get the full picture so I can correct you where you're wrong.”

“I asked for the General and the Scribe to come visit so that we could get a better grasp on the Creator’s situation!” Nahida explains, smiling brightly at him.

“Great, and how did that go?”

Everybody chooses to look in different directions, unable to look Wanderer in the eye. You hear him heave an annoyed, but resigned, sigh.

“We might’ve gotten somewhere if Buer hadn’t sidetracked,” Scaramouche adds helpfully.

“And you might’ve gotten the groceries like you guys said you would, too, but here we are,” Wanderer crosses his arms, pinning you and Scaramouche with a pointed look.

You wince and turn around, subtly leaning over to Scara, whispering: “I actually forgot about that…”

“Me too…” he replies, not quite as quietly as you. You both startle as hands come down on both of your shoulders, Wanderer’s grinning face appearing between the two of you.

“Isn’t this just a splendid opportunity for you two to go find the traveler and restock our pantry, while Buer and I go over the details of what you clowns didn’t explain right?”

Scaramouche wastes no time wresting his shoulder out of Wanderer’s grasp with a noise of disgust. “Who do you think you are to order me around, teacher’s pet? I’ll go when I feel like it.” He sneers, stalking off toward the doors of the sanctuary.

You offer a light chuckle and a wry grin of apology to the others, who watch unimpressed at Scaramouche’s display, while Wanderer dismisses you with a shooing motion.

Right. Time to get those supplies.

#genshin sagau #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin self aware au #genshin isekai #genshin wanderer #sagau wanderer #genshin scaramouche #sagau scaramouche #sagau x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #seabird.txt #glitch in irminsul au

277 notes · View notes

ervotica · 4 months

Note

i feel like i need to get this off my chest but oliver with that necklace is the hottest fucking thing, especially in the scene with the tall grass because to me it screams two things, it’s perceived as the “rough” version of something like a signet ring that a lot of ned / chav working-class boys did wear in the 00s - and still do, at least in scotland) especially because it’s silver to both the audience and felix but when you have a proper look at close up, you realise that the necklace is defo expensive as fuck, like it was hiding in plain sight.

also, thirsty me coming out but the idea of fucking him half asleep and being utterly entranced with the sparkling diamond’s twinkling in the slight light seeping into the dark bedroom, an embodiment of who oliver really is in that vulnerable moment is an idea i cannot get out of my head 👩🏻‍🍳😘 (which i might end up writing but i’ve just gotta muse with someone who loves that lil’ freak boy as much as i do)

i fucking love this analysis. it's seriously so nuanced and absolutely true!!

the things we see from oliver that indicate his deceit are clear as day once you rewatch. and i love the analysis of the jewellery being a glimmer into his real life. it's expensive and that's something that we as the audience don't realise because it's such a norm for working class boys to wear a chain that we don't question it, but also the fact that it's hiding in plain sight; the fact that it shows the audience that he's lying about his situation but even then he goes unnoticed - no one sees it.

half-asleep sex is fucking god tier oh my god. the way the diamond would catch the soft sliver of moonlight that seeps past the curtains, the punched gasps he would let out as you hooked a leg around him to anchor him into your own body, bare tits pressed against the hard expanse of his chest as he rocks his hips into yours. maybe you even grab hold of the necklace as he loses control, muscles twitching and convulsing with pleasure and he loses himself. the facade slips. it's the first time he's not in complete control since he arrived at saltburn. and you know you have him right where you want him.

(i'm begging u angel pls tag me if you write this, i would love to read!!)

#that lil freak has my heart #oliver quick x reader #love letters #ily #saltburn spoilers #saltburn #oliver quick smut #oliver quick x you

145 notes · View notes

ohtobeleah · 6 months

Text

Trade Places // Jake Seresin

Summary: It was supposed to be Hangman. And if you could go back in time? You’d let it be him. Without a shadow of a doubt.

Warnings: Leg Amputation. Jake Seresin x Enemy F!reader. Angst. Whump.

Word Count: 1.6k

Author Note: Day Sixteen of Whumptober. Prompt I chose: Amputation. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for the prompt list.

Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“The extensive bone injury along with the degree of soft-tissue infection is troubling.” It was supposed to be Hangman. He was the one who was meant to be flying when shit went wrong. It was supposed to be him, the one lying in a hospital room with doctors and nurses consulting on what exactly their best course of treatment would be. “No matter what we do—“

“If the infection goes to the bone it’ll be hard to treat.” There were two of them, tag-teaming the explanation that turned the axis of your life as you knew it on its head.

“And eventually you’re looking at bone loss.” It was almost impossible to understand what the doctors were trying to explain to you at that moment in time. There was no way that this was even happening. Surely you were caught up in some twisted nightmare. Because this couldn’t be real, right? This couldn’t be happening to you. “Officially, Lieutenant—I’m recommending amputation now to avoid complications later down the line.”

“I withhold consent—“ You mumbled out nearly incoherently. Your body felt so weak but the morphine was sweet. It made you feel like you were floating, but the weight of the situation you had found yourself in was pulling you back down. Keeping your grounded in reality when all you wanted to do was float away. “I withhold consent, before you drug me up anymore or sedate me, I give no-nobody permission to cut off my leg.”

Rooster, Bob, Phoenix, Hangman and yourself had been running drills at the Mountain Home Air Force Base in Idaho for the last week and a half. Advanced Tactical air to air Combat Training that was designed to push you to your absolute maximum. The Airforce were running the training days and Mav saw no excuse for the five of you to tag along.

“And certainly not some yahoo in dump truck Idaho—“ It was then you looked over to where Jake sat in the corner of the room. He looked a little worse for wear but nothing compared to you.

It was supposed to be him in that bed—fighting to keep his leg after being ejected and thrown to the ground like a damn rag doll. It should have been him—but of all days to be running ten minutes late, you took the first session, the first run, and he watched you take his place when fate called your number instead of his.

“Please, just take me home.” You begged him as tears welled in your eyes and your bottom lip quivered. “Please Jake.” He hated that it so easily could have and should have been him in your position. So without a word—Jake got up and bailed out of the room. He said not a single word as he made his way to the nearest exit. You cried a little harder knowing you were left all alone.

He couldn’t take this, this torture of knowing if he had just been on time it would be him in your position instead of you. He’d give anything to trade places with you. But he couldn't, not now not ever. Jake Seresin couldn't turn back time any more than he could take your pain away.

“Lieutenant, we’ll give you some time to reconsider your options.”

“You’re not taking my leg.” You spat without hesitation. “I’d rather die than lose my leg, do you hear me?” You meant it with every fiber of your being. “I'd rather die, because without it I'd be just as good as dead.”

This wasn’t supposed to happen to you, it was Hangman's session, it was his hop, his jet, his damn everything.

It should have been him.

***~***~***~***~***~

You were going to lose your leg, you knew it. To have your leg amputated from the knee down would end your career. It would see a stop to all that you were trying to achieve.

“I’m gonna go heat up some formula for Lila.” Your husband cooed as he leaned in the press a gentle kiss to your forehead. The two of them had caught the first flight out they could in order to be by your side. After all, it isn’t everyday you get a call to say your wife had been involved in a pretty catastrophic accident. But regardless of the prognosis—your husband Eric was as loving and as supportive as he could be. He knew however, what losing a limb meant for your career. “We’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” You replied as you settled in and pressed the pain relief button. The infection in your leg had taken a drastic turn in the last three days. You had held out as long as you could but alternately, you were scheduled for amputation at three.

Your world had completely changed in one fell swoop.

“Hey.” Jake's voice caught you off guard by the doorway, you’d drifted off as the medication that kept you from screaming the entire hospital down in utter agony coursed through your veins. “I uh—I bought these for you.” In his hand was a bunch of white Lilies, you could smell them from your bed. But you knew deep down they were just sympathy flowers to help soothe Jake's feelings. He felt guilty, but he didn’t feel remorse. “I saw your husband in the hallway.” With tentative steps, Jake stepped inside your room as your eyes lingered on his frame. He looked like hell. Again, nothing compared to you with all your cuts and scrapes and bruises. “I uh—“ It was the way he stumbled over his words that told you Jake wasn’t okay. The usual cock sure of himself aviator had dark bags under his eyes that told you he wasn’t sleeping—and the way he clutched the takeaway coffee up in his hand also told you that his caffeine intake had increased tenfold to keep him awake. “I feel like crap, it should’ve been me on that jet—believe me when I say that if I could trade places with you? I would.”

You didn’t answer to begin with. Hell you weren’t even going to dignify him with a response like when he walked out of your room without a word three days prior. But as Jake looked at you with puppy dog eyes, he needed to be reminded that yes—yes this shouldn’t have been you.

“I would let you.” You sighed. Jake wasn’t expecting that. He was sure you wouldn’t say something along the lines of ‘it’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.’ But no. He stood there with a chill so strong creeping up his spine as you laid in that hospital bed awaiting the surgery that would leave you with one less limb, and listened to every word you spoke.

“I had that thought a lot too, and I didn’t like myself for it—but I did.” It was the honest truth, you’d spent hours upon hours thinking about it. “When I was out there, being crushed by debris, I just kept thinking about my husband and my baby and how you have no wife and no baby.” Jake didn’t speak, hell he was sure he wasn’t even breathing—but he was listening. “You have no one.”

Jake Seresin wasn’t any easy person to get along with. Phoenix and Rooster had tried to tell you time and time again that under all the toxic male bravado and the cock sure attitude—Jake could be and was, a decent human being. But he’d never given you a reason to believe that he was nothing but an egotistical, arrogant, and selfish man.

“I only went up there because I was pissed at you for being late.” You could remember it so clearly. How mad you were at Jake for being late to work. How if you didn’t get going you’d be forced to stay late and breastfeeding was already a mission in and of itself as it was. Being so far away from your baby girl meant you were pumping and dumping and freezing what you could. Jake being late was throwing you off your schedule. “So I kept wondering, while I was lying there just waiting for someone to come rescue me, that I was only there because he’s so selfish and so thoughtless.”

You’d tried to like Hangman, time and time again you’d given him the benefit of the doubt. You’d even set him up with a friend of yours. But all he did was break her heart. Jake knew that you had tried, he’d given you every reason under the sun to hate him though.

Why?

Because what was the point in ever being close to you when he could never have you. The ring on your finger reminded him every day of the unattainable.

“And no matter how hard I tried to make you better, you’re still a horrible person.” It was hard to take on the chin, but Jake took it. He only let the tears in his eyes well long enough to let you know that your words would forever remain with him. No matter where in the world he went or the people he’d eventually meet. He’d remember you, the woman who took his place when it so easily could have been him. “So now, I keep wondering—why this would happen to someone like me, instead of someone like you.”

“You’re pissed off—I get it, I really do.” Jake finally answered you as he walked over to your bedside. “But I really am sorry for what happened, all of it.” Jake Seresin was a lot of things, but a liar wasn’t one of them. He truly was sorry—and he’d give anything to trade places.

“Yeah—yeah I guess you could say that I’m still pretty pissed off—“ You scoffed in return. Nothing Jake could say could change the past, could change what happened. He was lucky. He was the one who got to live out his life the way he always saw it playing out. The Hangman—always and forever leaving people high and dry.

“So, with all that being said, Lieutenant Seresin, could you please get out of my fucking room.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Whumptober Tags 🏷️ @xoxabs88xox @oldermenaremyreligion @slut-f0r-u u @emma-is-cool @armydrcamers @topguncortez @topgun-imagines @kmc1989 @els-marvelvsp @blindedbythelightt

#ailesswhumptober2023 #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun fanfiction

135 notes · View notes

xeenybobean · 11 months

Text

"Feelings."

Pavitr Prabhakar x Reader

Prompt from anonymous on google forms: Y/N returns to their hometown and realizes they still like Pavitr.

Word Count: 3k

Tags: @bluenotes75

Note: To be honest when I thought about writing this I instantly thought about the little mermaid's original back story where the prince falls in love with another girl and the little mermaid was tasked to kill him to stay human, if she couldn’t she’d remain a mermaid forever, but since she loved the prince so much she couldn’t bare to do it so she jumped into the ocean. To me, I feel like the lyrics of the song just match this whole idea about feelings and Pavitr doesn’t feel the same way.

Lowkey don't see barely any stories on my lovely sweetheart darling Pavitr so here you go, my baby! :)

Summary: you've liked the cute boy Pavitr for quite some time ever since you guys became friends you instantly started to like him with his wide smile, his warm positive energy, and the way his family accepted you into their family with open arms just made it better. Having tea time with Pavitr and his aunt just made your day. You thought you guys had something serious together, but you couldn’t have been more wrong than you’ve ever been in your whole life. Soon your heart was crushed you found out you were moving and that you might not ever see the man you love ever again..the day you left was heartbreaking for both you and Pavitr, he was heartbroken and didn’t want to let you go, he loved your company and you were his only friend from his universe, he couldn’t bare to lose you. But yet you slipped through his fingertips like quicksand...

You never thought you’d come back to your hometown until it was summertime, just to be heartbroken once more like the night you left just to come back to your hometown to see the one you love with someone else...

How long has it been since you left your hometown? The man you loved to the moon and back? It's been 4 years. Ever since your parents got a new job and you got accepted in the most prestige school ever and in those 4 years you’ve learned proper etiquette, manners, ways to respond to certain situations, learning to correct your posture, learning the difference between a desert spoon and a soup spoon. And throughout all those 4 years you’ve changed from a carefree person to a more strict and proper young lady but in those 5 years there was only one thing and one thing only that made you push harder towards your goals, it was him.

Pavitr..he made your heart race, he made you, you, he was hurt the other half, well you’d like to think of it that way at least. The night you left just tore a hole in your heart as you hugged your best friend and your long-time crush as he cried into your shoulder holding you as close as he could ever hold anyone. He begged over and over again begging you to stay with him, that you needed to stay, he offered you to stay at his parent's place but you couldn’t accept, not because you didn’t want to but because your parents didn’t want you to stay here in the first place.

“Please don’t go N/N” you heard your best friend begging you to stay as his hold squeezed around your body. You didn’t know what to do o say, your words were stuck in your throat as they grew dry all you did was hold your best friend not knowing when you could ever see him again. Here is his voice. Seeing his smile. Feeling his touch. This was the final time you’d be seeing all those things and hearing all those things.

That night still haunts you to this day as you walked out of the train station with a language in your hand as you dragged it off the train as began walking to find the nearest cab. You were finally home. After 4 long years, you couldn’t wait to see him. After so long you missed playing with his hair, holding him close, seeing him smile, laughing with him, smiling with him, and heck even talking to him!! Even though you were now proper you knew you could loosen up all those 4 years of hard work in one second when you saw him.

You scrolled through your phone through your old texts with Pavitr and you found the address he sent you a while ago. You walked out of the crowded station and called for a taxi cab and to your surprise one came right away, something was looking up you could feel it in your stomach as butterflies emerged from them filling your body with joy and excitement.

The only reason you were back home in the first place was that you had a 6-month break and you couldn’t wait to spend it with your best friend who was still a crush you’d longed to see for so long.. Even though you both texted here and there it wasn’t the same... The taxi driver took your leagues as you sit in the back seat of the fresh-smelling cab handing him the addresses and he began to drive and of course traffic. But you couldn’t help but smile you missed every single detail of your home town from the food, heck even the traffic that you hated the most living here made you smile! You were in such a good mood nothing could stop or change your feeling.

You looked out the window falling in love with the city you grew up in all over again as you decided to rest your eyes to pass the time and to your surprise you were now in front of your favorite place in the whole city his home. You got out of the cab and tipped the driver as he handed you your belongings, you thanked him and bowed slightly as you quickly ran up the stairs to knock on the door only to be greeted by the woman who’d watch over you the most.

Her eyes widened as she quickly pulled you into a huge tight hug not even letting you speak as she held you close to her pressing kisses all over your forehead.

“Welcome back N/N! It's been so long! How was the flight huh? Did you get here safely?” she pulled away and cupped your face moving your face back and forth.

“My you have gotten prettier over the years I see! Does Pavitr know you here? he’s going to be thrilled!” she said as she squeezed you tighter. You smiled and hugged the Pavitr’s aunt tighter as you both pulled away she quickly took your stuff.

“It's nice to see you again aunty..” you spoke softly as you walked in taking your shoes off as your body melted with the scent of the species you’ve missed so much. You finally felt at home again as you closed the door behind you gently as Pavitr’s aunt put your stuff near the couch.

“He’s on the balcony per usual! I’m sure you know the way hm?” she said flashing you a smile as she went back to the kitchen, she knew you had a thing for her son but she couldn’t bare to tell you her son has fallen in love with the police captain's daughter Gayatri. She couldn’t bare to tell you the sad news since you knew it would crush you like a rock...

You quickly nodded as your heart began to race faster and faster with each step you took up the stairs you found yourself practically running up the apartment complex’s stairs to the main balcony where you saw the man you loved and missed the most. You smiled widely, you were going to say his name but you stopped. Your eyes grew wide as you saw him kissing a girl.

The man you loved... For the longest time even when you were apart were kissing another girl. You bit your cheek harshly as you stood a good distance between the two of them watching them. The way he stared at her. The way his hand was placed on her cheek caressing it ever so gently like she was the most precious thing in the world was what you’ve wanted all your life. You were conflicted with emotions. You've waited so long to tell him. You waited so long, 4 years for god sake just to come back to your hometown to see him kissing another girl. How you wished it was you.

You didn’t even notice the tears running down your cheeks as you touched your cheeks to wipe them gently. You didn’t know if you wanted to call out to him anymore but.. God you missed him so much. You shifted slightly causing his spider senses to go off as he turned around to see you.

His eyes grew wide as he rubbed them thinking you were just an illusion but no you were real. He quickly got up on his feet as his girlfriend Gayatri looked at him in confusion she then looked forward to seeing you. She's heard about you through Pavitr.

“N/N?.. Is that..really you?..” he asked as he felt a lump in his throat as he started at you from a distance. You couldn’t form words all you did was cry as you opened out your arms for him widely and boy did he run.. He ran like no tomorrow..he tackled you to the cold hard ground as he cried his heart out. He was so happy to see you again. To hold you..to hear your voice. To smell your sweet scent. He’s missed everything about you.

You lost your balance when he tackled you to the ground, you instantly wrapped your arms around him hugging him tightly as you humanly possibly could as he dug a hole in your neck laughing slightly as tears rushed down his eyes as your hands made their way to his hair as you ran your fingers weakly through them.

“I’ve missed you so damn much you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hold you again..” you mumbled softly as you felt him hugging you tighter, he didn’t care that his girlfriend saw him like this he just cared about you right now. You chuckled slightly as your tears ran down your face faster, you felt like you were in a dream. Not the best dream but you were glad to hold him so close to you all over again.

“I’ve missed you more. I-i thought you’d never come back again..” he whispered into your ear as he looked at you and wiped your tears slightly as he pressed his forehead against yours as you both laughed, just happy to be in each other presence after years apart. Well everyone except you, boy were you crushed.

You were crying for two reasons. One because you were happy to see the man you liked for years but you were sad and crushed..like a building had fallen on you and crushed your whole heart because his heart doesn’t belong to you.

He noticed that you were still crying as he continued to wipe your tears then getting off of you and helping you up. You got up and saw his girlfriend walking to the two of you. She looked nice and had a warm smile on her face, you noticed Pavitr walking away from you to wrap his arm around his girlfriend's waist as he introduced her to you.

“Babe this is my beast friend Y/N! The girl I told you about!” he said smiling widely at you as she did the same extending her hand out to you. God, you wanted to slap it away and run but you maintained composure and smiled weakly

“Hey, my name is Gayatri it’s nice to finally meet the girl my boyfriend has been talking about nonstop!” she said chuckling slightly as you shook her hand gently and then pulled away. You felt your stomach in knots, that was supposed to be YOU not HER, YOU. you inhaled gently and tried to put a smile on your face but god was it so hard.

“Nice to meet you... Didn't think Pavitr could manage to pull someone as beautiful as you.” you teased slightly as the three of you laughed slightly you being the last one to stop as you looked down to the ground, Pavitr and Gayatri noticed this as she kissed his cheek telling him she’d be downstairs with his aunt.

“It was nice meeting you Y/N” she spoke softly as she left the balcony leaving you two alone. When she left you instantly felt a pair of warm hands caressing your face making you look up. You met his warm gaze and god that was your breaking point... You couldn't help but cry as his expression turned into a worried one as he moved closer to you continuously wiping your teasers trying to calm you down.

“Hey hey... What's wrong... Talk to me..” he said softly. Now was your chance to tell him how you felt for him after all this time..you inhaled sharply as your eyes grew red and puffy, and you bit your inner cheek harshly as you looked away from his warm gaze you’ve missed all of this time. You took a mental note and tried to hype yourself up telling yourself you could do this, this was your chance to tell him how you truly felt. Here it goes...

“I love you,” you spoke quickly as you moved his hands away from your face, your back turning to face him as he stood there making sure he heard correctly.

“Y-you love me N/N?..” you heard his voice and his tone sounding confused like he never thought you would ever like him, you were like a sister to him, and he never thought those moments spent with you were because you had romantic feelings towards him. He placed a hand on your shoulder gently and made you look at him and his heart broke, he could see the pain and anger in your eyes... You were a mess and you knew it. You didn’t know if you could even say another word to him without breaking down as you put your lip harshly trying to hold your tears back.

“Yes, I love you, you idiot! Who wouldn’t love you? You are so sweet, kind, and caring, you always know how to make me laugh! Cheering me up! Being by my slide!..being you..” You looked away as you wiped your tears, his gaze fixated on you made the knot in your stomach grow, you felt like you were going to throw up right here right now. Pavitr didn’t know what to say but all he did was stare and try to process how much you loved him... He moved his hands from your shoulders to hold your face in your hands as he stared into your glossy eyes... He could tell how bad this was eating you up.

“I love you so much... But.. but you have someone else..someone who you love and it’s not me..” You got out of his grasp and he hesitated... He wanted to hold you so bad but you slipped out of his hands like grains of sand like the night you left... He felt a knot in his stomach as he saw your back facing him.

“She loves you..and you love her. I’m glad you are happy you deserve it, my love..” you mumbled softly as you completely broke down you needed to leave now.

“I need to go,” you said quickly as you ran off of the balcony onto the staircases your hands gripped onto the railing to support you as you were now downstairs, Gayatri looking at you with sadness in her eyes.. She felt bad but decided to say nothing. Pavitr chased after you and watched you grabbing your luggages. No, he couldn’t lose you again. He stood in front of the door blocking it as your eyes met his. There was no way in hell he would lose you and not do anything... He refused to go down that path once more but you knew deep down you needed to get out of here..you shook your head.

“No. I am not losing you again N/N..please.” His cheeks were stained with tears as you looked at him your heart just broke into a million pieces as you tried to pry him off of the door he wouldn’t budge..his voice was cracking as he cried, and he stared at you begging for you to stay.

“N/N I can’t and will not lose you again. Please... I-i’m begging you.” you stared into his eyes searching them as your own grew glossier by the second... You couldn’t bare to see him like this... You caused his pain and you just couldn't live with someone you loved knowing you still had feelings for him. You knew deep down he will never love you, not in any universe were you two together..and you knew it... You were destined to love him and he was destined to love someone else...

“I’m sorry Pavitr... B-but it’s for the best. I-I’m sorry I love you with all my heart..” you said as you placed a kiss on his forehead. His eyes grew wide as he stared at you. He was about to say something but before he knew it you knocked him out with a combat technique he taught you a while back before you left your hometown. You watch him falling to the floor as his girlfriend rushed to his side.

You gathered your belongings and rushed out of the apartment tears stinging your eyes as he quickly gained consciousness once more and got out of his girlfriend's grasp as he chased after you calling out your name over and over again but nothing. He tried to grasp your hand but you were too quick to get into the cab as he watched you drive off... He lost you again...

Even though I am not happy... I'm happy to see you happy..even though it is not with me...

#spiderman #agnst #slow burn #x reader #pavitr prabhakar xreader #xeenybobean writings #pavitr x reader #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman into the verse #SoundCloud #Spotify #pavitr my beloved #pavitr x gayatri #pavitr prabhakar

245 notes · View notes

moonshynecybin · 2 months

Note

[regarding my latest Rosquez and because the idea came when I saw your tags on that text post] Austria 2023 (10th GP of the season, first Sunday race Marc finished last year), Marc going to Vale on Sunday night and asking him for something to smoke (“Oh, come on, don’t make this face, you’re Valentino Rossi, of course you can get whatever you want wherever we are in the World”)

Anyway, they end up sitting next to each other, passing the blunt back and forth in silence until Marc says “Everyone’s making a huge deal of the fact I finally finished a race on a Sunday but the only reason I finished is because I didn’t push. Not pushing put me P12. I don’t race to finish 12th.”

Valentino also asks him if he’s started thinking about his options and Marc chuckles, asks him “Why? You’re offering me a job?” and Valentino laughs, half-evades the question with something like “You deserve a good bike, everybody deserves to see you at your best”.

If Marc gets cold, I think there is a chance that Valentino wraps his arm around his back.

Marc does not let his head fall againt Valentino’s shoulder.

marc genuinely not knowing where to get weed and going to valentino is so funny… save me dirtbag… save meeee

i think marc going to vale is also insane in this context bc marc was crashing alllll the fucking time then like notably more than usual not even finishing races just a miserable time. and then he goes FINE i will have to be content with mediocrity bc constantly crashing like that isn’t sustainable, but he’s also probably so MAD and frustrated about it bc he’s never been content with mediocrity in his life!!! so like. marc is most likely in an insane headspace here wrt his overly competitive little brain. truly i think the way he sees it, his two options are both intolerable: injury or mediocrity. because winning is not an option. hell world. leaving for gresini but not quite ready to let go world.

so he’s like. keyed up here. anxious and trapped results-wise in a situation that is just as painful as his arm injury but for entirely different reasons. and going to vale about it is insane bc divorce but! i could see him being desperate and not being popular or comfy enough in the paddock to know literally anyone else with drugs (and anyone else that he is a. in love with and b. able to relate to about specific ass sporting woes. literally you can’t fix this one with a surgeon buddy you need the DOCTOR.) so he reaches out again like he so often does…

HOWEVER !! i think this situation is also fucking BANANAS from vale’s emotional standpoint. like even outside of being his nemesis’s weed supplier (truly i think some part of him is like GOD okay needs to chill out so fine i’ll give him some pot. like perhaps no one else on earth has needed a hit more), it’s crazy in the context of vale’s myriad theoretical complexes about marc’s riding style. like. insane for him.

so it’s going fine until marc brings it up to him maybe after a few puffs. they’re like loose with weed and giggly (and a little unconsciously handsy. somehow marc’s head IS on vale’s shoulder but that’s just bc it’s cold and he fits there. and weed. no other reason dwai.) and!! maybe vale is relaxing into it. letting marc lean back against him and remembering how uncomplicated this can be. thinking about marc’s pink cheeks that first time he took a hit off of vale’s joint back in 2014, and how he’d teased vale for thinking he would cough. but marc shifts a bit, chewing on his cheek, clearly working through some residual stress. and he brings it all up bc he needs advice about his dogshit situation and vale is literally the only yardstick he will EVER measure himself with, but vale reads it as him almost like. asking vale for absolution concerning his riding habits and the risks he takes. which is something vale at this point can under no circumstances give him. because he’s stillllllll terrified he’s going to lose marc. so he pulls away and marc’s side is suddenly cold and it implodes from there…

#vale starts very sweet like you’ll be okay you need a better bike :) thumb on marc’s shoulder.#and then marc says smth clumsy about needing to crash and injury and vale gets um. some not good associations.#callie speaks #motogp #asks #rosquez #this was the ask i almost answered with the weed meme if anyone was curious #also scheduled this to post while i’m asleep. for whatever reason.

57 notes · View notes

stomach-bugg09 · 1 year

Note

hihi maybe a fic where reader is just an absolute menace and badass like her mother neytiri!! everyone in the clan is prob trying to become mates with her but she doesnt like it at all

summary: [y/n] sully was independent, strong, scary, clearly the daughter of neytiri. but, her impeccable game constantly reminds everyone who her father was.

a/n: two in one day ?? what ?? crazy. anyway, hopefully you enjoy. she’s kinda a cutie in this, like okay yes go boss. also i cannot stop making random original characters that are not at all canon to atwow, but you know what, it is what it is. feedback, reblogs, and reqs are always appreciated !!

tags: @pinkhotdogsfr @wxnderingthoughts @ellielovesrobinarellano ( check out my tag guide !! )

warnings: [y/n] being a boss, sully siblings are so cute and supportive, some annoying boy attitude, guys being kinda creepy and obsessive, [y/n]’s undeniable and accidental rizz, non-consensual touch ( like a touch on the arm, but still aggravating )

2.5k words

independence

GIF by world-of-pandora

if there was one thing about [y/n] sully, it was that she was her mother’s daughter. any na’vi that knew the two of them could tell you this. from her skills on the battlefield to her independence, it was clear to all that neytiri had raised her eldest daughter in a way that she had no need to depend on anyone other than herself, as every young female should.

as a result, [y/n] sully stood among some of the strongest warriors in her age group. there was a good amount of na’vi—a solid six—her age that provided hope for the future. when it came their time to protect the clan, jake and neytiri lived in a little bit more peace knowing that the omaticaya would be safe in their hands

it was one of those days, with the core six, in which [y/n] spent her afternoon scouting. they’d split into two groups a few minutes prior, deciding to cover ground much quicker while separated.

“hey, [y/n]!” ole’ey called from behind, her friend’s voice becoming apparent directly in [y/n]’s ear thanks to the intercom necklaces they wore ( although, they were only allowed to wear them while on patrol. )

“hm?” [y/n] hummed, her peripheral vision picking up an image of ole’ey, a smirk resting on her face.

“has kllalu asked you out yet?”

on the other side of her, [y/n] heard her other friend, meyio, guffaw, losing his mind over the situation. “kllalu?” he screamed, not even bothering to go through comms because of how loud he was.

immediately, [y/n] dropped her face into her hands. “are you kidding?”

“so, i’m going to take that as a no.”

the sully daughter collapsed on her ikran, laying stomach down as she leaned the top-half of her weight against the creature’s neck. “i hate my life.”

“oh, please!” meyio teased. “you just have an impeccable amount of game. it’s natural!”

“it comes from your father’s side,” ole’ey added, not missing a beat, sending meyio once again as he screamed in laughter.

[y/n] cringed, hitting her forehead against her ikran. “that is disgusting. do not ever say that again. like, ever.”

“it’s just the plain truth!”

the three of them, [y/n], meyio, and ole’ey, were, if anything, an iconic trio. ever since [y/n] started training with other children around the clan, the three immediately drifted towards each other. after five long years later, neytiri and jake were practically their second pair of parents.

as a result of their friendship, all three of them improved their skills together, spending their time sparring with each other. they still often reminded each other of the day that meyio said something offensive—probably having to do with the other two being girls—and as a result, ole’ey and [y/n] absolutely annihilated him the next day at training. it even got the point in which the two young girls were reprimanded by jake ( although, neytiri was absolutely losing it when he came home and told his mate the story. )

but, no matter how often the two girls practiced their fighting skills by beating up meyio, they were all the best of friends. so, that meant immense teasing.

“i do not care what the plain truth is—you do not say that about somebody’s father to his daughter.” [y/n] was exasperated. not only did she have to deal with yet another male trying to convince her that they were ‘made for each other,’ but now she couldn’t get the thought of her father’s charm out of her head.

“okay, moving on from the epitome of hot dads,” meyio interrupted, causing a cry of anguish to leave [y/n]’s throat as she slammed her head against her ikran again, “what do you think kllalu is gonna say?”

as [y/n] attempted to ignore her friends, the fake deep voice of ole’ey kept her more than engaged in the moment. “‘oh, [y/n]. you’re like, as pretty as the stars or whatever. but, you know what’d be prettier? our future kids.’”

“ew!” she groaned, her hands going to her temples as to keep herself from jumping off of her ikran and strangling her friends.

“oh, that’s good,” meyio complimented, to which ole’ey sent a mock bow. “how about… ‘[y/n], i visited the spirit tree last night. i think, now i could be wrong, but… i think i saw us. together.’”

“now that’s just foul.” [y/n] argued. “using eywa’s visions as a way to bag me? he wouldn’t.”

meyio raised his hands defensively. “if you say so… but, i wouldn’t put it past him.”

“you two are unbelievable. this is like, my worst nightmare, and you’re making a joke out of it! some friends you are,” she grumbled.

“i’m sorry, [y/n],” ole’ey trailed, the smile in her voice apparent. “it’s not that we’re laughing about you having a problem.”

“yeah!” meyio added. “we’re laughing about this being the eight-hundreth time having the same exact problem.”

[y/n] groaned. “i know.” she shook her head, gazing at the forest below them. “why do they all keep trying. i have rejected every single one of them—why do they think that they’re different?”

meyio whistled at that. “what can i say, men love a good chase.”

she rolled her eyes. “i am not a chase, i am… i don’t even know! but i am definitely not a chase.”

“yes, you are not a chase because you don’t let them chase. i have never seen you give any one of them a chance!” ole’ey laughed. she wasn’t scrutinizing, and [y/n] knew that, she was just stating the truth. and still, it was a hard truth to swallow.

[y/n] had never been an easy friend. she grew up as the daughter of the toruk makto, and that meant that not only did her parents expect a lot from her, but so did everyone else in the clan. those were the words that motivated her to become such an amazing warrior—that, and the fact that she always wished to be like her mother.

she never really questioned it ever since her young mind decided who she was going to be. no, because she set a goal, and she would do whatever it took to accomplish that goal. and now, she’d finally reached it. who is she to become now?

she’d never learned to make friends—to even be friendly—she only wound up with meyio and ole’ey because she was lucky. she was, in all honesty, terrified of finding even a potential mate, because that meant she had to acknowledge that she was moving on into the future without even the slightest plan. all she wanted to do, for once in her life, was to enjoy living as a teenage na’vi.

later that afternoon, [y/n], meyio, and ole’ey sat in the clearing, alongside all four of the other sully siblings. after their morning of patrol, the trio was considerably tired, but that did not stop meyio and [y/n] from tackling each other.

all around the pair circled the rest of the kids, egging on the fight. it was, of course, a simple spar, and was something that they considered very normal in their routine.

“meyio, i swear to eywa if you lose, i am going to murder you!” lo’ak yelled from the sidelines, a threat that was motivated after he and ole’ey made bets on who would win.

“just keep doing what you’re doing, bud,” ole’ey added with a smirk, causing kiri to burst into laughter.

tuk was sat atop neteyam’s shoulders, allowing for a better view of their scrap. “meyio is kind of bad,” she mumbled, a comment that had her oldest brother wheezing for breath.

[y/n] was, by far, dominating. as she always did. at that point, after knowing her for five years, meyio had only a thirty-two percent win rate, so he was never shocked when the fight ended with him crying, “mercy!”

this fight, however, went a little different.

because as [y/n] triumphantly sat on his back, her hands pushing his face down into the mud as she teased, “you did this to yourself!” all of her confidence flew down the drain the moment she saw a familiar male in the distance.

immediately, the girl stopped, and with the lack of pressure against his neck, meyio flipped her over. [y/n] sputtered for breath, her lungs heaving after the wind was knocked out of her.

“hah!” meyio triumphed, only stopping when he noticed the look on her face. “[y/n]?”

“oh, come one!” lo’ak groaned. “meyio, finish the fight so i don’t lose any more money on you than i already have!”

when meyio ignored lo’ak’s comment, everyone grew curious. each other them took a step forward, peeking at the expression on [y/n]’s face.

based on her wide eyes that stared in the distance, kiri decided to follow her gaze. when she caught sight of kllalu, she bust into laughter. “are you scared of little-old kllalu? the one who we used to call ‘stick?’”

ole’ey sputtered a laugh. “why’d you call him ‘stick’”

“he stabbed himself with a stick and wouldn’t stop crying.”

the girl gasped. “oh my eywa, i remember that!”

meanwhile, meyio mumbled, “that is the dumbest nickname.”

ignoring the teasing comments, neteyam took tuk off of his shoulders, placing her on the ground before he walked closer to his sister. “what’d kllalu do?”

“nothing!” she cried. “that’s the problem!”

lo’ak looked unimpressed at her answer. “now, what is that supposed to mean? we are not mind readers, despite norm’s book of theories.”

“uh correction,” kiri pointed out. “norm’s theory is that the plants were mind readers.”

“guys!” tuk whined. “[y/n]’s upset.”

“right!” meyio called, a smirk pulling onto his face. “she’s upset because kllalu is planning to ask her out.”

both sully boys groaned at that information. “another one?” lo’ak asked, exasperated.

[y/n] lifted herself off of the ground, attempting to brush off as much dirt as she could. “i’m as unhappy about it as you are! this is like, the millionth rejection i’ve ever had to do!”

“will they ever catch on?” neteyam groaned, holding his head in his hands.

“that’s what i’m wondering!” [y/n] cried, staring up at the sky with an unamused look on her face.

“i’m telling you,” meyio yelled. “they love the chase.”

all at once, every single sully sibling responded with, “there is no chase!”

silence followed soon after, leaving meyio blinking absentmindedly at them. “okay,” he said, smacking his lips. “noted!”

“au,” [y/n] cried, shaking her head. “he is nearly here.”

“okay,” tuk yelled. “everyone be quiet and stare at him so we scare him away.” her idea had everyone but [y/n] shouting words of agreement.

immediately, [y/n] shook her head. “no—no!” she sighed. “look, i need to do this myself. just… act normal. i don’t know! i’m just gonna say what finally needs to be said.”

“and what is that?” kiri asked, eyebrows raised.

but, before she could answer, kllalu stepped into a radius that was far too close to answer without him hearing. so, as the remind them of their job, [y/n] sent one last look at the group of kids. quiet.

“[y/n]!” the boy greeted, a smirk placed on his lips. immediately, all six of the kids behind [y/n] were set off with annoyance.

she nodded her head. “kllalu.” [y/n]’s tone was dry, already setting the mood for an awkward conversation.

“how are you?” he attempted, stopping in front of her.

“i am doing great.”

he nodded slowly. “nice!” this was an extremely painful experience for everyone that was watching.

when she left the conversation hanging, kllalu cleared his throat. “so,” he continued slowly. “i was wondering if i could speak with you?”

she cocked her head ever-so-slightly. “you are speaking now, no?”

“uh,” he swallowed. “i was thinking, like… alone?”

immediately she shook her head. “i’d rather not leave my siblings.” she blinked. “and ole’ey and meyio.” behind her, the six of them waved cheerfully, leaving kllalu dumbstruck. “whatever you must say, you are fully capable of saying in front of them.”

“right!” he nodded. “yeah, no, i totally get it.” kllalu looked at the ground, stretching his arm to scratch the back of his neck. silence returned.

“you were going to say something, kllalu?”

he nodded. “uh, yeah.” her patience was thinning by the second. “i was just, uh, thinking. because, um, last night i visited the spirit tree—”

“no, kllalu.” ( behind [y/n], meyio was silently pointing and laughing at ole’ey since he guessed correctly. )

he blinked. “no? you don’t even know what i was going to say.”

she stared at him with a look. really? “i am not dumb.”

“but, why? i mean, i know you’ve rejected every single guy who has attempted, but why? why all of them?” he shook his head in disbelief. “how do you know i am not the right one?” as soon as kllalu’s hand grabbed her bicep, the entire group of six behind them burst.

“what do you think you’re doing?” neteyam growled, pushing himself off of the ground.

lo’ak was quick behind him. “she said no, dumbass.”

“do you need help understanding?” kiri took a step towards them.

with a huff, [y/n] held a hand up to her siblings and friends. once they’d frozen in place, she then grabbed his wrist tightly, ripping it off of her. “are you daft?”

“wha—no!”

“i will repeat it to you in words that your small brain can understand, and if you could do me a wonderful favor and tell every male that wants to ask me out, i would greatly appreciate it.” she stepped towards him, teeth bared. “i am in no need of a male’s help, nor his love. i am not a challenge, i am not a game to see whether or not you will be the one to convince me, i am not something to chase. you and all the other dumb males will stop asking me, because it is becoming offensive.” she bit her bottom lip, a mocking smile appearing on her lips. “i have made it this far independently. i will not let that go by having a male choose me as his mate. when the time comes, i will choose. do you understand?”

he nodded.

she raised her eyebrows. “do you understand?”

“yes.”

“good.” she stepped back, feeling the safety of her friends and family. “now, please go away. you have ruined a perfectly fine afternoon.”

as they watched him stumble away, [y/n] felt not only her own pride swell in her heart, but the pride of her friends and siblings. sure, they knew [y/n] sully was strong, scary, all the good stuff, but it was always refreshing to watch it come out.

it always reminded them of why the adults of the clan were not at all worried for the omaticayans future. there was nothing to worry about when warriors like [y/n] existed.

665 notes · View notes

imma-devil · 7 months

Text

Show me | c.b

Pairing: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto (The Bear) x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, [one action was done with dubious consent; make sure you get consent when having intimacy with others].

Tags: slight sub!carmy, switch!carmy, virgin!carmy, experienced!reader (there's a bit of a power dynamic thing going on so if you're not comfortable with that then please don't force yourself), some size kink, one use of nickname (baby), insecure!carmy + (emotional hurt/comfort??), carmy has a praise kink?, carmy needs a hug, no use of y/n, brief edging, handjob (m!receiving & f!receiving?), p in v sex, no protection (wrap it!), creampie, cockwarming? I guess, not entirely proofread.

Word Count: 4,180

Summary: Carmy and you are in a serious relationship. Carmy has gotten to the point where he knows what he wants, and that is to lose his virginity to the one he trusts. Will you show him what he has been missing out on for so long? Will you treat him the way he deserves?— Absolutely.

A/N: Hello everyone, I'm sorry I have been MIA. This is my attempt to get back into writing. It is also my first submission for 2023's Lazy Ghouls Kinktober. The prompt I used for the week was virginity.

You can not take my work or translate it without my permission. This piece of fiction is mine, and only the character belongs to its original creators.

Honestly, you should’ve felt more considerate about the situation before you. Even though you could physically feel the anxiety that was thrumming through his blood and intoxicating the air, you could only focus on the honey glow coating his curls. The sun shone through the window of your Chicago apartment, illuminating half of his frame in its warm light. His eye, closest to the sun’s reach, held a crystalline structure of the purest blue. Even as his gaze flitted away from you, searching for some ease to his uncertainty, you could only focus on his beauty. It was only when his weathered hand moussed through his curls that you were brought back to Earth.

“Are we sure about this?” He asks, meeting your eye from beneath his lashes. “I mean… you kind of got the shit end of this deal here.”

“Says who? I’m happy with this outcome,” You smiled, your fingers playing with a crease in his pant leg.

“I just— I want to make sure you know what you’re getting into,” he said, sealing his lips in that nervous habit of his.

“You’ve explained it to me… I know what I’m getting, and it doesn’t make me want you any less.” You eased your hand onto his thigh, almost as if to transfer your feelings through touch. “So, stop trying to scare me away.”

“Trust me… that’s the last thing I want to do.” He exclaimed with a weak chuckle.

“I do… I do trust you,” you used him to scoot yourself closer to him on the sofa. “---and I want you to trust me too.”

“I want to do this. I want to do this with you.” He quickly averted his stare, clasping his hands around one another to rub at his knuckles. “...it’s just that, I’m not sure how— How do I do this?”

You cover his hands with your own, tracing his tattoos with your thumbs in slow circles.

“I mean—” He suddenly cut in, “I’ve watched it—y’know—so I’m not oblivious. I just, I— God! Why is this so difficult!?” He jumped to his feet, taking his hands to wipe the nerves from his face, his fist rising to rest over his lips; fearful that if he said any more, he would expose just how afraid he truly was. He was resisting the urge to run for the hills, the urge to accept that he just may never make it passed this step.

You rest your hand on his lower back, slowly approaching him from behind. With your hands looped around his chest and your ear turned to rest against his back, you breathe your words of advice: “...you take it one step at a time, one foot behind the other, and I’ll be here the whole way.”

“If you ever want to stop, or slow down, you can tell me.” You added. “I care about you, you know that?”

“...yea,” he hummed.

“I don’t expect you to be some type of sex god on your first go…” you huffed a laugh, “But, I do expect to have a good time… and if you let me take the lead, I’d like to make it so that you have a good time too.”

Carmy felt torn, maybe it was unrealistic to think that he’d be great right off the bat, that he could please you without guidance. All that he could go off of was the porn he watched as a teenager and the dreams of you that have been plaguing his sleepless nights. He couldn’t help but feel ashamed that he couldn’t perform to how he wanted… and at how a part of him enjoyed the way you were speaking to him. He shouldn’t like the thought of being taken care of, it was the guy who was supposed to take the lead, right?

You could feel the warmth of his hand fall upon yours, the rough pads of his fingers trailing faintly atop your skin. A taut breath shuddered within his chest before his mouth opened to voice his want, “...show me.”

Taking hold of his hand, you led him towards your bed away from the couch, keeping in his view all the while. You placed a light peck on his hand and watched as a smile tugged at his lips. Once the backs of your legs met the mattress, you guided his rough hand to your chest, bringing him just that little bit closer. Your lips met in a gentle kiss, coaxing a pleased hum from his throat.

“Take this off f’me,“ you pointed to your shirt, the rest of your fingers still slotted with his.

His ministrations were eager as he tugged at the fabric with his lips still against yours. You subtly released his grip, placing the both of your hands on his hips to give him more mobility to free you of your clothing.

“Slow,” you whispered upon breaking your kiss, grinning when his body nearly chased yours. “...like this.”

You recaptured his lips before sneaking your fingertips below the hem of his white-t, the rest of your hands soon followed as you traveled to the dimples in his back. Relishing in the goosebumps that arose on his skin, you paused to appreciate the moment. By raking your nails up the back of his sides, his body shudders. His shirt raises the further your reach meets the underside of his arms and you hook your fingers beneath the fabric to tug it up and over his head. Carmy then makes a sound of disapproval when you ultimately have to end the kiss to remove his shirt.

To your surprise, he doesn’t shy away once his chest is bare for you to see. Instead, he mimics your action, opting to personalize it to his own liking. He begins palm first, resting it affront your belly, just barely above your core. The sheer size of his hand in comparison to you is enough to make you flutter. His other hand stabilizes your back, resting it on the crest of your ass, pulling you into him— close. Carmy rests his forehead against yours, his glossy, blown-out eyes intruding deeply into yours.

“How’s this?” he asks, his tone bordering a plea, as his hand travels higher. His hips cant towards you while his composure inevitably dwindles, having underestimated just how much he wanted to do this before.

You can feel the callouses beneath his fingertips trail over the ridges of your ribs, stalling as they meet the underwire of your bra. You can hear Carmy’s exhales begin to shake, watching as his lashes grow even heavier. He helps your shirt the last bit of the way with his other hand and his lips part when he finally sees the skin beneath. His eyes drift to a close as he practically breathes you in, his hand slotting into your side where Carmy’s thumb mindlessly makes a rhythm of its own in the grooves of your skin.

You ridge your fingers over the waistband of his jeans, anchoring him as you continue your kiss. Almost as if it were a handle, simply made for your possession. “My bra,” you direct, barely registering the need to speak, all too consumed by the taste of mint gum and something warm– something undefinable.

Now this— Carmy actually felt like he could manage. He had done it once before in high school, ushered to a party he otherwise didn’t want to attend. The girl, he didn’t even know her name, but she had already taken her shirt off for him. All that was left was the bra, he managed to fumble for it in the dark before someone barged in and marked that he remain a virgin well into adulthood. Carmy was thankful for that now; you were well worth the wait. Whatever he could’ve experienced pales in comparison to sharing this bed with you, even if it has only just begun.

Carmy didn’t register that he would have to focus on the ministrations of his fingers instead of melting at your lips long enough to undo the clasp. You had this hold over him that was all-consuming like some thick haze clouding his vision; he wanted to give into it. But, fighting his innermost wishes, he tugged at the clasp, and couldn’t help but grin against your lips at his successful first attempt. Like a child, he nearly wanted to bolster his achievement with a celebratory fist, but knew well enough to avoid looking like an idiot.

But, he might’ve failed at doing just that because the second he caught sight of your chest, he could feel all sense escape him. His head dropped to your shoulder, his thick curls tickling the sensitive skin of your neck. You can feel the warm puffs of his exhale against your skin, his breath growing more haggard by the second. His hands traveled up the expanse of your sides, cupping your breasts in each of his palms. His hold— incredibly gentle, muscles taut with obvious restraint. He sublimates with a fierce kiss to your nape, a groan escaping his lips despite muffling himself into your shoulder.

“What do you want, Carmy?” you meagered out on short breath, “Tell me,”

His arm snakes around your torso, taking a bruising hold as he anchors you close to him. His other hand gropes the mound of your breast, the vein beneath his skin growing prominent as he wills himself to hold onto what remains of his restraint.

He makes an incoherent sound, filled with need and almost reminiscent of a word, but he nuzzles your neck as if he conveyed what he wished. He pushes his hips into yours, pulling away to look at where you met as if he were putting himself on display. “It hurts,” he whines with a wounded look… one that you would damn near call him devious for.

You undo the button of his jeans and watch as the fabric tries to force its way open at the pressure beneath. The zipper undoes itself halfway and you guide it the rest to reveal the bulge beneath his cotton briefs. He sighs with a slack jaw at the relief, watching your hands intently in anticipation. You palm him through his briefs for a moment, teasing at the weight of him in your hand, gauging his expression as his brows lift and a throaty exhale falls from his lips.

“You still okay with this?” you gloat while pulling away your hand, “We can still stop.”

His grip immediately snaps to your wrist as his eyes bore into yours, “Not funny.”

You gingerly hum a reply, “Kinda funny.”

You begin pulling your pants below your ass before stepping out of them one leg after the other and Carmy takes the cue to do the same. You took a seat on the mattress, playing audience as he took off the tight fabric. He kept taking glimpses of the small cloth that was scrunched at the top of your thighs. He couldn’t help but be caught up on the fact that you were sitting before him in your underwear, your legs crossed, your ass peeking from the underside of your thigh. He would give anything to see it. The same ass he would sometimes zone out on in the kitchen from the view of his office. The same ass that was hugged perfectly from your jeans. He was broken out of his thoughts from the sound of your laughter, and he couldn’t help the heat that crept to his face at the realization that he was caught.

Now that his jeans were gone, you could see his body for what it was. All that you could say is that you were pleased; seeing his built body and blushing face in front of you with the dick you’d been craving to see, barely hidden behind his briefs. He was almost hesitant walking over to you, like the moment was growing ever more real as it grew closer. To your surprise, when he sat next to you, he already took things into his own hands. He makes an advance at the back of your neck, swiping away any hair that resides there to clear him a space to leave small blemishes with his lips.

He was almost convincing you not to turn around, as if a distraction could postpone the rejection that he was adamant would soon occur. So, like in his pursuit of cooking, he set forth to please. He could remember the insecurity he felt when he first entered the field, the scrutiny that burned into his skin nearly as permanent as his ink tattoos, and the acidity at the back of his throat that made him feel like he was one failure away from collapsing from within. He would then drill through the motions of training and practice to overcome, like a sculptor who chiseled away at their stone. It's that same work ethic that now has him chasing your pleasure as if it were his own. It is why all sound washes away like water within his ears as he kneads delicately into your skin with all-seeking hands. As well as the reason why his kisses down the expanse of your back only relent because wanting pants were left in their wake. His eyes are sealed shut— vision abandoned so as to not see your regret nor disappointment.

He knows yet that you’re aware of this shield, and only pains himself with a tightening chest as you pull from his embrace. The ache doesn’t go away, even once he realizes that you’ve sat yourself in his lap, facing his way. Part of him wants to flee, but he can’t even bring himself to explain why. He knows what he wants and why he’s here in this moment, but can’t ascribe the reason as to why he wants to break away despite his desire on the crest of being fulfilled— It nearly baffles him. No, It practically angers him.

“Carm,” you begin in a matter-of-fact tone. “You’re mine— and the only way you’ll stop being mine is if you don’t want me to be yours anymore.”

He focuses on the sensation as your arm hooks over his neck for your hand to come up and play with his hair. The soft drag of your nails against his scalp has his eyes open beneath lidded hoods.

“You’re in your head right now, and I don’t want you to be… because what you’re thinking isn’t true.” He watches the words fall from your lips and hangs on every word. “Now, I say it again— if you feel like you’re not ready, I won’t rush you. But, if you don’t want to do this because you’re afraid I don’t want you?... then you’re kidding yourself.”

He’s all out of words to say, so instead, he lifts your hand in his and guides it to touch him where he needs you most. You’re a little shocked from the change in pace with your hand now palming his eager erection. He immediately exerts a sigh, and you mention nothing of the twitch of him from beneath your touch.

“Don’t lie to me,” he begs with poorly masked skepticism. “I wouldn’t forgive you.”

“---that’s more than I’d forgive myself,” you shake away his concern, your adamancy shining through your expression like a beacon over a fjord.

This time when you kissed, he tasted less like mint gum and more like molten heat. This kiss was beholden of a warmth attributed to the time spent between you, something a product of late nights cleaning the kitchen to garbled jazz and rock music from a cheap speaker. It was the product of brisk air biting at your nose during alleyway conversations, the smell of crisp mornings, and cigarette smoke wafting on the wind. The result of casual dates, never acknowledged for what they were; instead, listed as evening talks spent in each other's apartments, sharing naps, and dreams of the future.

You hold onto that feeling, the same as he does. You guide his hand to your heat, smiling as you notice his movements stutter. Without relenting, you continue to rub him above his briefs, applying gentle friction to keep him present.

“You feel that?” you directed his hand to set aside your underwear and up to your aching bud, “that’s my clit— do you know what to do with it?”

He stations his thumb on the bundle of nerves, rolling in languid circles. His eyes, linger upon your pussy that he’s been eager to see all afternoon, but soon look up to gauge your reaction and you can almost hear his unvoiced question of ‘did I do good?’

“Yes,” you grin. “Right there,”

He nearly choked when you unearthed him from his briefs with no warning, unable to push off the change in focus seeing as he was no longer in the lead. He’s probably not much longer than 6 inches, but he’s thick and sits heavy in your hand. He watches in awe as you lick a stripe up your hand before applying light pumps to his dick, afraid to push him over the edge too soon.

“What you’re doing to me right now, I’ll show you how it feels.” you breathe a chuckle, “...it shouldn’t feel too different.”

He briefly nods before you place your thumb against his slit, your palm working away slowly against his head while your thumb mimicked the motions of his. “Oh, fuck.” he whispers as if it almost was a question. The slight squelch from your lightly clenched fist was like the spoon that stirred the swirling contents of his mind. It was cute to witness his dilemma of where he should look, either at your glistening pussy that wept at his thumb on your clit or his dick that was bare and aching under your attention. His pants grew quicker with less between and you could tell he was nearing closer. You bridged that happy medium, fastening your pace and crooning as his pants grew into meager moans. It was only once his voice grew silent and his abdomen strung tight that you removed your hand entirely. He whined a sound of displeasure, to which you gave a remorseful smile and placed a peck on his forehead.

“Sorry baby,” you gave him an apologetic kiss for good measure. “You have to wait, we don’t want this to be over just yet.”

You watch contently as his breath shudders in his chest, coming back down to Earth. He doesn’t have much time to register you climbing atop of him, only truly realizing once he noticed you were lining yourself up.

“Are you sure you still want to go through with this?” you asked, taking a moment to really confirm if he was ready or not. “---no hard feelings if you aren’t.”

“No–” his voice croaked in his throat, “No, I want this.”

You hummed in recognition of his response before lowering yourself down on him inch by inch. A pleased smile grew on your lips at the loosening of his, all while his brows formed a tight knot and he locked in on the site of where you both met.

“Ah, fuck~” he hissed, clenching his jaw so as to not say more.

Once he bottomed out, his head fell slack on his neck. His face– turned to the heavens, but his eyes closed in bliss.

“Mmm, you did good.” you praised. Proud that he lasted so far, you graced his exposed neck with a gentle caress of your warm hand. Your intention was to be rewarding, but truthfully, he found it laced with temptation.

With an ephemeral sigh pushed from his lungs to the sky above, you noted the jolt of him from within you. He releases a chuckle, thick with haze. “God~ you feel good…”

“What does?--” you fight back a smile, “How does my pussy feel, Carm?”

He groans, taking a brief pause before giving you your answer. “Warm~” his breath staggers, “...wet,”

“What about now?” you ask, lifting yourself on his cock. Your hips start to rock in a languid rhythm, rolling down on his in tortuous circles. He sets again his bruising hold on your waist, as if holding you, holding anything, could keep him in this moment.

You watch the muscles grow taut in his neck and a subtle pink blooms in the skin above his carotid. His abdomen matches; his muscles going rigid. You could tell he was already fighting his release, and it wasn’t unexpected.

“Carmy,” you grab hold of the side of his face, your thumb resting right on the apple of his cheek. “Just let go— you’re allowed to feel good.”

Calling it a gasp would be an exaggeration, but it was like Carmy resurfaced for air. Once he finally allowed himself to breathe, there was nothing to be done to quell his now free-flowing moans. Carmy wasn’t loud, it wasn’t quite like the volume he was capable of when coursing out demands in a busy kitchen. Of course, he wasn’t quiet either. His voice of pleasure resembled a deep sigh— followed by the slightest upturn.

Witnessing his pleasure added that extra sensation to have you harmonizing your breaths. Your pleasure grew balanced— as if every motion that progressed his pleasure pulled you along behind him on a tether. It wasn’t long before you felt Carmy’s confidence begin to build— his pace along with it. His hips carved their own rhythm, setting a motion faster than the one you set with his sensitivity in mind. There was a clumsy, yet endearing quality to his thrusts that had you feeling dizzy.

“That’s it, Carmy~” you praised, pulling him in chest to chest so as to drive him deeper. “Fuck~ so good."

With your voice so close to his ear, he could practically feel the vibrations. With each comment of support that you made, he could sense his dwindling resolve. The sweat building on your bodies was proof of your efforts to reach your end. But, God- Oh God– he just needed you to cum. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he finished before he got you off. He hoped you wouldn’t notice the desperation behind it, but as he captured your lips in a kiss, he snuck his hand between you to stimulate your clit. His hips were still snapping up into yours, all while he could feel you grinding down on him. It was like some sinful equation of lust and desire; his mind couldn’t bear to push through it any longer. It didn’t help that he noticed that your smothered moans transitioned into filthy whines stifled on his tongue. He could barely lift his head, solely focused on the place where you met in timed thrusts. He couldn’t bring himself to care that he broke away from the kiss, not with the fact that he could now shamelessly listen to your unfiltered moans bless the air, even if his breath was escaping him in leisured pants.

Like a wire under a blade, your orgasm snapped into place. If your choked sound of pleasure wasn’t enough indication, he was immediately aware by the tightness that was constricting him. The sudden feeling brought him to the precipice he had been stifling with his every ounce of will. His arms had wrapped you in an embrace upon the realization of what was to come, his nose buried so deep into your neck that all he could perceive was your scent. You waited for his orgasm to come to its end, ever aware of the warmth that was filling you. You noticed his entire body go slack, his frame melting into yours like a lost puzzle piece. His hair— deliciously tickling your neck.

You gathered your fingers in the hair at the back of his neck as you had before, brushing out his untempered curls. He made a sound of contentment, the haziness of it rumbling in your chest. His hands, which now hung loosely near the small of your back, drew featherlight drawings on your skin. With the slightest turn of your head, you placed a soft, yet ardent, kiss to his temple— resting there, so as to imprint your feelings into his very flesh and bone.

Carmy turns with a thoughtful look in his eyes, pausing as if to commit every detail of your face to his memory before reciprocating with a kiss that veiled a million words.

You breathe him in, smiling into the action and sensing it when he does the same. “So– how did we do?” you ask, breathless with your eyes still closed from the moment you shared. You open your eyes when he takes you into his hold, both of his hands cupping your face on each side of your jaw. The ‘SOU’ on his knuckles— visible to the slow-turning world around you. “I don’t ever want to lose you,” he whispers with his eyes still fixated on your lips.

You brightly smile, “---and you never will.”

#carmy berzatto #carmy deserves a hug #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x you #carmy the bear #virgin!carmy berzatto #kinktober #lazy ghouls kinktober

109 notes · View notes

sofasoap · 7 months

Text

Love at first sight - life and death

Pairing: Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra x F!reader ( aka Mini MacTavish)

Summary: Life doesn't always play a fair game. Takes place after Epilogue of the main series.

Part I, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4,Part 5,Part 6,Epilogue

Warning: M Rating. inaccuracies to medical and military related. discussion of injuries. ANGST.

A/N: Thanks @gamergirlbones helping me with Spanish phrases. and to @siilvan for putting up with me for breaking her heart. not beta nor properly proofread. sorry.

Part of RUDY FEST fic. Thank you @glitterypirateduck the wonderful CoD fanfic and fanart curator for organising another festival :D you are awesome. Prompt used: I'm not leaving you, You have to leave, your life's in danger

masterlist

How ironic.

The rescuer needs to be rescued.

Your ears are ringing, vision blurred with all the dust in the air. Without looking down, you know you are bleeding out.

Slowly turning towards your left, you can see two of your fellow medics lying motionless on the ground.

Are they still alive? If not…

Who are their next of kin? Oh, you need to retrieve their dog tags. The paper work..

Ouch. Why does it hurt so much? That’s right.. You are injured. But where?

“MINI! Stay with me!”

You know that voice. But where is he?

“Oh, hello love. There you are.” you replied, blinking your eyes a few times, trying to flush out the blood that is currently blurring your vision. Finally you spotted the owner of the voice.“ You shouldn’t be here.It’s not safe.” Bit of deja vu? Last time this happened, you were the one who was on the other side, trying frantically to save Rudy’s life. How the tables have turned.

“I am not leaving you.” Rudy replied adamantly, with a hint of panic as his eyes scanned your body, and the surroundings. “You are going to be ok, cariño, I promise. Stay with me. Please.” he pleaded as he started to open his emergency med kit, doing whatever he can to save his love from dying in front of him.

“Go. Don’t worry about me.” You tried to lift your arm, but you couldn’t. That’s when you notice half of your body and arm are pinned underneath the boulder and debris.

“Oh.That’s not good.” you try to laugh, but all you could manage was a shuddered breath. “You muppet, of course it’s not good.” A lower, grumpier voice joined in. “How can you still be laughing in this situation?”

“Oh, hello,Captain.” You slurred. It’s harder and harder to keep your speech and head straight. “You have to leave, your life's in danger. Take that man with you too, while you are there.” you jerked your head towards Rudy, who is currently radioing for medevac, causing a pounding headache. Everything is starting to hurt. It’s getting so hard to breathe. You thought.

“Tell Soap and the team I love them…” you wheezed as you tried to convey your last messages to Price. “Tell Soap I’m sorry I ate his chocolate cookies….” “Stop giving out your last words. Medevac is on their way.” he reassures you, or is he trying to reassure himself? The sadness you can see through his eyes, you know you are probably not going to get out of this.

“What.. is.. them…are my teammates ok?” you look at the two bodies again, worrying. “We can’t lose those two.. They are the best we got…” tears start to flow out. They are your brother and sister in arms, three of you have been through countless life and death situations. Is this where the three of you will partway?

“They are still breathing, last time we checked. We don’t want to move them. Worry about yourself first, cariño. Just concentrate on your breathing.” Rudy replied as he caressed your hair, soothing you. You always love his hand, how calming it is, how safe it makes you feel.

“Oh good.” you slowly close your eyes. At least someone will stay alive today.

“Come on, keep your eyes open for me, cariño, talk to me.” Rudy’s voice is getting desperate, trying to keep you awake until the medevac arrives. The help just doesn’t seem to come fast enough. He can’t lose you. Not here, not now, not for another long time to come.

“Hey Rudy.” “Yes love.”

“Do you remember the day we first met?”

“Of course cariño. How could I forget?”

“Hey Rudy.”

“Yes mi vida.”

“You love me??”

“Of course.Mi corazón late por ti”.

“....”

“Cariño?”

The last thing you heard before you sank into the complete darkness was the anguish cry of Rudy, screaming out for you.

Mi corazón late por ti : My heart beats for you.

NOTE: Sorry it's a short one. I am just so tired from work conferences and travelling. part 2 might not come out in time for end of Rudy fest :(

Tag list :

@jynxmirage, @siilvan

@glitterypirateduck, @homicidal-slvt

@sprout-fics @cumikering @preciouslittlecreature @crazymela

@liyanahelena @abbeyrjm-blog @alypink @devcica @nrdmssgs

@okayyadriana @caramlizedtomatoes @random-thot-generator @random0lover

@iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface

@nightingal3-tales, @deakyspuff

@deadbranch, @roosterr, @gamergirlbones, @b1rds3ye, @writeforfandoms @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @onewattson6529

127 notes · View notes

topguncortez · 2 years

Text

Dragon ~ B. Bradshaw

pairing: B.Bradshaw x F!Reader (Trace sister)

word count: 3.1k

warnings: mentions of smut, cursing, dangerous flight situations, g-loc

synopsis: Being the younger sister to one of the top female fighter pilots has you on your toes and struggling to get an ounce of power.

“God for fucking once I don’t need you to bail me out!” Y/N yelled at her sister, as she threw her helmet across the locker room.

“Well maybe, if you didn’t need bailing out, I wouldn’t have to bail you out!” Phoenix yelled.

“You got in my fucking way! I fucking had him, Nix!”

“I wasn’t even in your way and you were losing!” Y/N groaned and slammed a locker shut, walking away from her sister, “Yeah! Real mature! Throwing and slamming shit!”

“I learned it from you!”

Y/N couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as her, opting to grab her shower stuff and storm her way down to the other latrines. Y/N pushed the door open, not bothering to stop at the ‘male latrine’ sign on the door. Finding an open bench, she set her stuff down and plopped down with a heavy sigh.

It was hard being the younger sister to Lieutenant Natasha Trace aka ‘Phoenix’. Y/N had been exactly a year younger than her, most people compared the two as twins, which they both quickly grew to hate. There was always a natural competitiveness to the two, always having to outdo the other, no matter what. Natasha turned 18 and joined the navy, a year later Y/N did too. Natasha got selected for Top Gun, and a year later Y/N did too. Now the both of them found themselves back at Flightown, on a mission where the outcome was still yet to be determined, but one thing was for sure, they both desperately wanted in on it.

Y/N reached to the back of her head, pulling out the pins that held her hair in a nice and tight bun. She hated having to have her hair done, especially when it came to flying. She felt odd walking around with a braid in, seeing how perfect Phoenix’s hair was every day. So Y/N reverted back to her old lower enlisted ways, waking up almost two hours before first formation, going through almost a whole can of hairspray to make sure not a single flyaway was out of place. It felt like heaven at the end of the day, being able to take her hair down and take her fingers through the crunchy locks.

Standing up, she took her boots off and then the flight suit that had become her main source of clothing these past two weeks. She stood in her black spandex and white tank top, digging around her hygiene bag for her shower stuff.

“Did you hit your head or something, Dragon?” She lifted her head up to see the one and only Bradley Bradshaw standing in front of her.

“No, I know exactly where I am.”

“Ah, so you know that you are in the men’s latrine, half naked,”

“Can I help you, Chicken?”

Bradley chuckled at his nickname. Y/N and Bradley had gotten to know each other on a current duty assignment, and she couldn’t stand him. There was something about the way he walked, the way he talked that had her wanting to punch him. Then, of course, the icing on the cake was his friendship with her sister. All of them, actually. They all seemed to know each other, except for her. Y/N felt like the odd man out, watching them drink and have a good time at the Hard Deck. She would usually buy herself a drink, talk with them about how the day went, but when the music and the pool started, she would slip out the door, undetected and go back to her barracks room.

“Wondering why you look so sad, really bringing down the vibe,”

“Of the old, black mold covered, latrine?”

“Yes. It has a lot of character.”

She chuckled, shaking her head, “Just a little tiff with the older sister.”

“Lemme guess, Maverick shot you with a ‘missile’”

She nodded, slipping her dog tags over her neck. She could feel Bradley’s eyes on her as she bent down to take her knee high green socks off. Bradley’s honey brown eyes traced her long tan legs, seeing the dragon tattoo that resided on her thigh. That's how she got her callsign anyway. A certain young lower enlisted hookup and the reveal of the ink that she hid from her parents and older sister. Y/N pride herself in knowing she had the first mythical creature callsign in the family, and her's came later.

“Can I help you, lieutenant?” She asked, noticing his stare on her legs.

“Did it hurt? The tattoo?” He asked, pointing at the ink.

Y/N smirked, grabbing the waistband of her spandex and dropping them down her legs, revealing the intricate pattern of scales and flowers that seemed to stop just shy of her ribcage and the navy blue lace thong that was underneath her shorts.

“No, it felt quite nice. I’ve always had a thing for pain,” Y/N said.

Rooster was speechless, taking in the sight of her tan skin, her body almost on full display being covered by some flimsy undergarments that he could rip away in seconds. The sly smirk on Y/N’s face, as she turned around, letting him have a full look at her ass. Bradley felt all the blood go rushing straight to his lower region, as she grabbed a towel from on top of the lockers.

“Any other questions, sir?” Y/N asked, turning back around. Bradley shook his head, watching as she grabbed the bottom of her tank top, shedding it off her body, “That’s enough of a show for you, sir.”

All Bradley could do was nod, and watch Y/N walk away towards the showers. Once he heard the shower curtain slide shut he had to take a deep breath, trying to get his body to remember what breathing was. He adjusted himself in his flight suit, choosing to grab his shower stuff and shower in the privacy of his home.

Where his thoughts were anything but pure as he leaned against his shower wall, fist wrapped around his aching cock, as he jerked himself off to the image of her. He could only imagine the way your skin felt under his hands, him tracing the intricate patterns of the tattoo on her hip. The sounds that would leave her lips, even hearing the small grunts and whines while doing 200 push-ups on the tarmac were enough to drive him crazy sometimes. Or the way his name would fall from her lips, or better yet, the way she addressed him properly.

“Sir. . . is this good?”

“Oh fuck yeah, that’s good, Y/N,” Bradley cursed, moving his hand up and down faster along his cock. Feeling the pleasure grow hotter and hotter in his body, until he was shooting white hot ropes of cum onto his stomach.

— — —

The next day everyone gathered in the classroom, Y/N and Phoenix taking opposite corners of the room, her in front left corner, next to Bob, her WSO, and Y/N in the back right, in a row by herself. Y/N liked sitting in the back, being able to watch everyone else. She watched as everyone filtered in, watching as Rooster swaggered in last, the certain way he walked with such confidence. When Maverick came in, everyone rose to attention until he called you at ease.

“We’re switching things up a bit,” Maverick said looking at the class. Everyone seemed to shift in their seats, feeling the nerves. Maverick always kept them on their toes, in the air and on the ground, “Rooster, Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, Fritz. . . and Dragon, you’ll be flying as a team.”

Y/N’s eyes widened as Phoenix turned around and looked directly at her younger sister, her face unreadable. Maverick dismissed everyone, and Y/N was one of the first people out of the room, trying to avoid her older sister, but that didn’t stop her from yelling Y/N’s name.

“Y/N!” Phoenix yelled, not even bothering to use her callsign, “What the hell was that!”

“I didn’t know! I had no idea he was going to-” Y/N’s speech was cut off by Natasha’s harsh slap to her face. Y/N stumbled a bit, and then found her footing, quickly lunging towards her sister, “You bitch!”

“Whoa!” Payback said, getting in between the two females. He grabbed Y/N’s waist, as Bob grabbed Phoenix, “Hey don’t kill each other before the mission.”

“You throw one fucking fit about me saving your ass and you got me benched!” Phoenix yelled.

“Maybe Mav finally saw that you’re a shitty pilot and knows you can’t complete this mission!”

“Says the one who I had to bail out!”

“Ugh, I hope you go into g-lock!”

“Yeah, well I hope your eject-”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Phoenix regretted it. There were some things that they would never say to each other, especially doing some of the most dangerous missions in US military history. No matter how mad they got at each other, they never wished something ill like death or a failed ejection. Payback released Y/N’s body, and she pushed his arms away, going straight for the tarmac.

“Dragon! Wait!” Phoenix yelled, but Payback stepped in the way, stopping her, “Move!”

“No, she’s about to go up in the air, she needs a clear head.” Payback said. Phoenix nodded and prayed to whatever God was listening to that her little sister would be okay.

Y/N knew where Rooster was, knowing that he liked to sit in the silence of the locker room before getting suited up and heading to the tarmac. It once again didn’t phase her as she walked right into the men’s latrine, finding Rooster where she expected him to be.

“Is it your fault that I’m not flying with Phoenix? Did you do this shit?!” Y/N yelled at him.

Rooster stood up from his spot on the bench and looked at her, “I said something to Mav about possibly split-”

“God can’t you men leave anything alone! I don’t need you or her or Mav or anyone to come to my rescue! There’s a reason i’m a solo pilot and that’s because I can handle my own shit without a fucking man sitting behind my shoulder telling me what to do!”

Rooster opened his mouth to say something, but Y/N left the latrine before he could. He groaned, running a hand through his hair. That’s not what he was expecting when he talked to Maverick about possibly splitting Dragon and Phoenix up for a flight exercise. He was hoping she would be thankful for the opportunity to do a training exercise without having to share the sky with her sister. Instead, she seemed more angry at the fact that Phoenix wasn’t going to be in the air with her.

The next time Rooster saw Dragon was during the pre-flight check. Bradley was going to walk over and say something, but Hangman beat him to it. Bradley stopped in his tracks, watching as Hangman gave her that panty-dropping smile he gives to every female he sees. Bradley knew that she saw right through Hangman's antics, usually not giving him the time of day, but she laughed. And not one of those awkward chuckles, a hearty laugh, tilting her head back and squinting her eyes. Bradley moved from his spot over to his plane, trying to fill his mind with the thoughts of the flight exercise and not the way she put her hand on Hangman’s forearm.

Y/N climbed in her plane, getting comfortable in her seat before slipping on the harness. She let out a shaky breath as she looked around her cockpit, checking the gauges and reporting back her pre-flight numbers to her flight crew.

“You feel good about this, Dragon?” Her flight chief, Grizzly asked.

“I’m good,” Y/N said, and grabbed her mask, strapping it down, before flipping the switch to close the top. She waited for the flight crew to taxi her out into the runway, looking to her right to see her WSO team ready for flight as well, “Alright, let’s rock this shit.”

Y/N waited in line for her turn to take off. She gripped the joystick in her hand, watching as Rooster, Payback and Fanboy took off before her. When it was her turn, she closed her eyes and said a small prayer, before pushing the joystick forward, letting the plane move and catch speed. She felt the nose catch air, and pulled back the joystick quickly, letting the plane get completely off the ground and sail through the air. In the hangar, Phoenix took a deep breath watching her sister take off in her F/A-18.

There was something about cruising through the sky, seeing the sereness of the earth from a high altitude was peaceful. There had been times where Dragon would take an old fighter jet up, and just cruise around Flightown at sunset, trying to “chase the sun” before it went down. She loved flying, it was one of the things no one could take away from her.

“You good there, Dragon?” She heard Rooster call to her via headset.

“Let’s just get this shit done,” Y/N said, watching the Roosters move.

“Fine, drop into the canyon,” Rooster answered.

Y/N watched as Bradley dropped into the pretend canyon, following the flight pattern on his screen, Fanboy and Payback following in suit. Once it was her turn, Y/N dropped into the canyon, following the sharp turns that were presented on her screen. She had memorized this map in her sleep, knowing exactly how tight and how fast to take the turns. She also knew that time was important, keeping her eye on the ticking clock in the corner.

“Come on Rooster, speed it up,” Y/N whispered.

“Line it up, Fanboy,” Payback called to his WSO.

“Lined up, drop it, Rooster!” Fanboy called for Bradley to drop the “missile” on the target.

“Fuck!” Bradley cursed, missing his target, “It’s on you, Dragon.”

Y/N inhaled as she flew closer to the drop zone, calling to her WSO team to line up the target. She watched as Fritz lined the laser, giving her a clear shot. She closed her eyes, counting the seconds until she was directly over it, hitting the button to drop the missile. Y/N opened her eyes, seeing that she hit the target. The next part was the worst, as she began the sharp incline out of the deep canyon. She pulled the joystick back as far as it would go, feeling her jet almost go completely vertical.

“Keep breathing. . . keep. . . breathing,” She chanted to herself as she was fighting consciousness, “Keep. . .” She felt her head getting heavier, her eyes struggling to keep open and the blood leaving her brain. Y/N maintained to stop her jet from climbing any higher, but now she was starting to fall out of the sky.

“Dragon!” Rooster yelled.

“Fuck! She’s in g-loc!” Payback yelled.

“Come on, Dragon!” Rooster called out, “Wake up!” Rooster directed his jet to go after her, hoping that him getting on her sensor would be loud enough to wake her up, “Dragon! Y/N!”

It was like being in a dream, the constant beeping and hearing her name being called in her subconscious mind. She felt her head rock back in her helmet and her eyes flutter open. It took her a second to get her barings of where she was, but thankfully she realized what was going on.

“Holy shit!” Y/N cursed, jerking the joystick up and pulling her out of a nose dive, “Oh my god, oh my god.”

“Dragon, you good?” Rooster called, flying next to her. She looked over and nodded, feeling tears in her eyes.

She had never been so thankful for getting her feet back on the ground. She didn’t even spend long doing post flight, and no one kept her longer than she needed to be there. Maverick didn’t say much to her either, telling her she did a good job and that he was glad that she landed safely. Phoenix was too scared to talk to her, opting not to say anything as Y/N grabbed her stuff from her locker room and went back to her barracks room.

She was pretty sure she drained the whole floor out of hot water. Her shoulders and back were red when she stepped out of the shower, wiping the steam off of the mirror. She sighed, grabbing her hair brush and brushing out the tangles and clumps of hairspray she hadn’t totally gotten out of her hair. She did her best to push the emotions of the day away. She was still mad at Phoenix and Rooster, but she was also terrified of what had happened. Y/N had never hit g-loc, she knew what it was and how terrifying it could be, but the fact that there were seconds that she was in the air and not in control of anything was absolutely terrifying.

Y/N got dressed in a pair of Navy issued sweatpants and a unit t-shirt. She grabbed one of the beers she had snuggled back into her dorm room, and cracked it open, sitting down on her couch in total silence. She sipped her beer, letting her mind go completely blank of the day's events, taking in a deep breath. It felt good, peaceful to be by herself and being able to decompress, until there was a knock on the door.

Y/N groaned, getting up from the couch and going to her door, looking in the peephole and let out another frustrated groan seeing who it was. She opened the door and Bradley smiled at her shyly.

“The hell do you want?” Y/N groaned.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay, since you almost died.”

“I did not almost die.”

“Almost.”

“God, you’re annoying! This is what I meant! I don’t need bailing out!”

“You went into g-loc,” Bradley said, stepping into her dorm, and shutting the door behind him, “Your brain lost blood and you passed out.. . In a flying death machine.”

“I know! Okay. . . I know. . .” Y/N said softly, “I-I-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Bradley said, walking over to her and pulling her into his arms. She gripped him tightly, afraid he would disappear or this was still a side effect of being in g-loc. Bradley kissed the top of her forehead as she sniffled.

“Wanna get drunk with me?” Y/N asked, pulling away from her.

Bradley chuckled and looked at the six pack sitting on her counter, “I mean. . . you only live once.”

Bradley watched as she smiled, and walked over to her counter, grabbing a beer and digging for her bottle opener. Bradley smiled shyly to himself, trying to suppress his feelings that he felt. It took everything in him to not grab her and kiss her but he refrained giving her a small thanks, as she handed him a beer and then dragged him over to the couch.

#top gun #top gun imagine #top gun fanfic #top gun x reader #rooster Bradshaw #rooster Bradshaw imagine #rooster Bradshaw x reader #Bradley Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw imagine #Bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #Bradley rooster Bradshaw imagine

2K notes · View notes