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hollyhomburg · 3 years

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Before I Leave You (Pt.4)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Yoongi makes his choice, so does Moonbyul.

Pairing: Beta! Yoongi, Omega! Reader, Omega! Jungkook, Omega! Seokjin, Alpha! Namjoon, Alpha! Hoseok, Alpha! Taehyung, Alpha! Jimin,

Tags: Graphic material, Death, Murder, Dead bodies and dying described in detail, brief suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, depression, DARK THEMES, guilt, blood, a touch of blood kink? drugs, murder/crime themes, guilt, kinda fuck or die vibes? finally fluff at the end, mating marks,

W/c: 7.1k

A/n: here is the moment you’ve all been waiting for! the big d word moment!!! my carpal tunnel is acting up, I will probably not be able to get the next chapter out for a few days or until next week. Chronologically the next chapter continues after part 1.

(PLEASE READ TAGS FOR CW BEFORE YOU PROCEED)

Previous part — Masterlist

Part 4: If I Have You

Pulling the trigger is the easiest thing you’ve ever done.

Geumjae’s body flinches back from the force of the bullet. The ceiling splattering with the spray of his blood. It hits the side of your face too, your white shirt crested with red at the shoulders, dripping down your throat along with the blood from your mating bite. It’s a percussive splatter, noisy as it hits the wall.

People never talk about how blood gets everywhere during a murder. Yoongi is unable to stop his flinch when Geumjae’s brain matter and viscera splatter against him, just a little.

Yoongi didn't think you'd actually do it.

He watches you shove the body away from you, hard, what's left of his head, an empty vessel, hitting the floor with a hollow thud. His hands leave you for the last time, but the pain isn't finished.

Yoongi barely has the forethought to lunge forward, knees scraping, wrestling the gun out of your hand before you can turn it on yourself. The barrel of the gun is hot when Yoongi's hands close around it and yank it away from your own temple. The smell of burning skin joins the metallic scent of murder. Your scent is a mess- it’s barely had a chance to mix with Geumjae’s burning wood-burning bread and wrath, rainstorms, and gunpowder.

He shouts your name but you don't respond.

Yoongi yanks the gun from your hands, probably hurting your fingers but panicked when he hurls the gun to the other side of the room and takes your hands in his, wrestling with you and screaming your name until the fight goes out of you.

You’re hyperventilating when you stop struggling. Both of your wrists pinned above your head in both of Yoongi’s hands, his knees pressing your legs to stillness in a way that could be sexual but isn't- it's the easiest way for him to restrain you- both sprawled on the bloody floor. Yoongi’s crying, tears dripping down his nose, every other drop shines pink from what's on his face.

“Yoongi please- please just let me go- I don’t want to become a ghost- I don't wanna become a walking corpse.” The way you look breaks his heart, your neck so bruised and bloody, your face swelling too from Geumjae’s hits. The way your eyes hold only darkness and no warmth as you look at him and beg- beg him to let you take your life. Your pupils are so small he can't see them at all.

“Let me die Yoongi- please just- if you do one thing for me- let do this. let me go."

Yoongi looks at your mating mark and can already see the thin tracery of ink spreading under your skin- inky blackness spreading from your mating bite and up your throat. A piece of someone who’s dead inside of you, shot through with silver to make it stand out more.

It’s like some silly zombie bite in a bad horror movie but it’s so much more haunting, The veins in your eyes are even starting to discolor. You have maybe a few minutes before the mating bite takes you over completely and you’re mated to someone dead.

Zombie movies were nothing more than fear of this taking root in common culture, everyone fears losing their mate. What else is more terrifying than something that takes your humanity in the way that this has taken yours. This is every person’s worst nightmare- a death sentence.

‘Ghosts’ are what society has dubbed the women and men who live after losing their partners. Most of the time they live without alpha or a pack- unable to bond to anyone else ever again once their mates are dead. Mating bites are a one-time thing.

When one-half of a mated pair dies- a person's body has a peculiar way of letting outsiders know how to treat them gently- The mating mark turns black like a brand. A mark to let everyone know that they would never have another person to take care of them- to love them.

But you aren’t alone- you’re not alone because you have Yoongi and he’s right here with his wide palms on you. Hands that where always made to fix things, but you aren’t just some broken toy that needs a bit of glue. He’s too late, just seconds too late and only inches away.

He grips both of your forearms in either of his palms hands, pulling you closer. Making you sit up, dragging you into his lap like carrying your weight in his arms will fix this. Anything to hold onto you- to not lose you too soon.

"Stop- just stop, I've got you- I've got you," Yoongi repeats it more for himself than he does for you.

But there are wounds in your body that can’t be fixed by simple hoping. There is a limit to what one person can take. Despair is one hell of a drug and while Yoongi fights and fights there is no undoing what Geumjae has done to you.

But maybe…

Yoongi dares to hope; “It’s only a half bond if we-“ he falls silent as the idea settles over him like a bucket of cold water. His brain rushing over everything he’s ever learned about mating bites and beta’s; all of the statistics and articles that Namjoon had shoved down his throat when Jungkook had first stopped having seizures.

The medical mystery that betas were; how they were able to heal unseen hurts and maybe- maybe this was like that. Maybe the solution to this problem lays in Yoongi’s veins, in his mouth.

His jaw aches at the very suggestion of it. “I’m a beta- and betas don’t usually mark- because- because they’re stronger than alpha and omega bites.”

It’s the only truth that makes sense. All of the stories of omegas and alphas going crazy after being bitten by betas, not being able to move from them too far, extreme clinginess- a bond that was too close, too strong, stronger than anything else in their life. You weren’t supposed to bond with someone so deep, the bite almost seemed to do more harm than good.

But you’re already dying and there isn’t much worse that could happen to you.

You don't have anything to lose but Yoongi does. You shake yourself free from his arms and pull back. Recoiling from what he’s offering to do for you; tether him to you forever when you might not make it.

You can already feel the mating mark taking hold- It's already starting to cloud your judgment, deep down, the part of you that cares if you survive this is already winking out. The blankness sinking through your every inch, The emptiness. You’d be surprised if you lifted your hand to your chest and found your heart still beating.

“Yoongi- No- you don’t have to- you’ve already got a pack and don’t- don’t bind yourself to someone like me.”

It’s the same argument that you had before but there’s no force behind it- every stupid excuse you had for him not to love you is moot now that your husband is dead next to you. But you're done; Every breath takes more effort than it should and you feel so heavy. You look down at your lap and feel the lethargy sinking beneath your bones like lead. Hidden hands gripping around your throat cutting off your words.

You feel like you’re choking on something.

You’ve felt depressed before (how could you not have given what your life was like before Yoongi). And having a mating mark from someone deceased feels like that but worse, like it's turned up by a factor of three. A weird mixture of dizzy, absent, and dissociative. You have never felt less connected to your own body, it feels foreign.

You are nothing but a soul inside a body, craving release. A thread of black that wants to tug you down to where ever Geumjae is now.

The sinking sadness says to you with gentle hands- this is a fine spot. You can just sit here, It’s okay. You don’t have to move, you can just sit here until you die. As long as no one bothers you and hurts you again, you could just sit here, as long as it was quiet and peaceful. Things don't even have to be good, you don't need good things, you just need it to not hurt anymore. Until the earth reclaims you like it takes abandoned buildings.

A sharp pain that goes through your heart, an ache so deep that it speaks to cavernous places, wakes monsters that you didn’t know where there.

You’ve never really wanted to die before, maybe as a passing thought- but didn’t everyone think that way? it’s so different now- where the thoughts are all consuming, running over your words in your head like oil spreading and staining cloth.

Die- want to die- want- want- want die- wanna go- wanna be quiet- wanna fall asleep and not wake up- want to-

But if you decided to lay here and not get up again, Yoongi would stay too.

He would try and get you to move, probably beg and try to get you to live. Even if he never bit you, he’d stay next to you until the end, just to hold your hand so that you didn’t have to be completely alone. You thought dying would feel more lonely, But maybe it doesn't feel that way because Yoongi’s here.

His hand closes around yours, his thumb rubbing soothing circles as he cries. And you think if you want one thing; it's for him to stop crying. Out of all people- Yoongi doesn't deserve the hurt (but maybe you're biased because you love him).

That tips the scale in his favor.

Geumjae’s blood is pooling on the floor. His body gives a twitch, the last remnants of his misfiring nerves as he dies. You feel the painful jerk in your mating bond. Yoongi watches the muscles of your neck twitch.

Neither you nor Yoongi pays him any mind.

"You don't have to do this Yoongi." Yoongi’s hand on your cheek- is like a balm to those words, pushing them out of your head. “You can’t take it back. If I die- you could die too.”

“But I want to” he kisses your cheek- and the contact lights a flame down your neck to your touch starved heart. The heat flares to light and the next second your body and your mouth are aching to bite. Your instincts an avalanche around you begging you to complete the bond that’s tearing through you making you shake. He kisses a little closer to your lips, cheeks wet and cool against your skin.

Geumaje and Yoongi were related by blood at all, maybe your instincts can’t tell the difference.

“I don’t care if it does- I can’t- I’m not going to just let you die” his voice breaks on the last word. Not when it was me who was too slow to save you; He won’t say the words or whisper his guilt into the open air.

“Please sweetheart- let me.” He kisses your lips. So soft- achingly soft, Your first kiss, you wish it had happened under better circumstances.

You hate that the first kiss you and Yoongi share tastes like blood.

But there would be more- there could be more kisses if Yoongi manages to do what he’s saying he can. The mark on your shoulder is already healing, the blackness stretching to scar treacherously fast. Normal mating bites usually take a day or so to heal, but not yours, it’s already scabbing and sealing in the poision.

If you’re going to try this- if it’s going to work- it has to be now. The bond is advancing, regardless of the fact that Geumjae is barely dead, barely cooling beside the two of you.

It’s barely been 10 minutes since you shot him. And if you listen carefully- you can hear sounds in the rest of the house, maybe someone else from the gang here- about to come upstairs and discover the mess of you three. muffled voices and heavy footsteps grow louder by the second.

Yoongi is safe but you’re not. “Yoongi,” you say, his name a broken hymn on your mouth. Musical- and Yoongi can’t think of a time when he wouldn’t want to hear it. Hoping for more of this closeness and maybe one day, a love that doesn’t hurt.

You get the feeling that even if you are broken beyond repair, this man could fix you. Wide hands and careful fingers that rub the blood away from your skin, hands made for making things and mending things when they break. And maybe you’re selfish enough to let him bind himself to you- broken as you are.

You press your forehead to his, you have to ask one more time. "Are you sure Yoongi?"

He nods, quick and small, "I'm sure." there isn’t anything in his eyes that makes you doubt him.

"Okay," you say softly, tugging him closer, tilting your chin up to the sky, your skin stings where it stretches around the mating mark. "okay. Come here then."

Your hands tangle in Yoongi’s hair as you guide his mouth to your throat, and his mouth sliding into the space where Geumjae was just minutes ago. He lingers for just half a breath before sinks his teeth over the mating mark, a little deeper- his mouth a little wider. He makes the bite a tiny bit offset.

Your breath hitches, back arching. His hands-on your waist go hard, holding you closer to him, as close as he can get you. Unlike before when Geumjae’s bite was agony, this feels like heroin- like every drug mixing together sending you up and up.

If you looked down and saw your hands were tipped in gold you wouldn’t be surprised. For a second you think you can taste colors, and then the chocolate sea salt of Yoongi settles over your tongue delicious, like ambrosia- fuck it’s so strong, it’s halfway between a headache and a high. You gasp when you feel it, feel Yoongi all over, Goosebumps rising on your arms as he touches you. The smell of ocean breeze and chocolate filling you in a way that Geumjae’s scent didn’t.

Geumjae’s bite was nothing compared to this, a whisper to a symphony.

This must be what a mating bite feels like when you want it. You cry out. Gripping the lapels of his coat. Yoongi’s heartbeat thunders in your ears, the only thing you can hear, until the beat matches to your own, heartbeats pumping in sync.

Your blood tastes sweet and he wonders what it says about him that he likes the taste. He gulps at it- once- twice- and then a third time just to make sure the mark sticks, maybe he could suck a little bit of Geumjae out of you.

His kisses get feverish, lapping up your blood with wide laves of his tongue, moaning a little. and this time when you kiss- with your blood in his mouth, they get hurried and rushed like he can consume you, each one sweeter than the last. There is one moment of nausea, only one moment where Yoongi sees the black tracery receded and feels it dim.

Maybe it’s not gone, but at least it's buried.

Yoongi can almost feel you, can almost feel the bond, but not yet. Your scent, it's all cake-sweet now. You kiss him until your jaw aches until your lips feel bruised. Until you know the sounds below actually are people, rushing around trying to find Geumjae. Calling out your names.

Yoongi is the first to break apart, the room spinning. “Do me” he lifts the edge of his shirt, picking out a spot that he likes, the meat just above his hip. A spot is half-hidden by his shirt and his pants.

Not everyone likes to have their mating marks on their neck (you certainly would have chosen to have yours another place had you been given the chance). And Yoongi stretches out so that you can get your mouth on him, your mouth on the spot he wants to bind your soul to his.

He holds one of your hands in both of his hands so gently as you cup his hip and bite down, even as you begin to make out the noise of gang members coming up the attic stairs. Yoongi bites down a moan, lets you take one gasp of blood into your mouth before your teeth leave his skin.

The high rushes over him and he knows his pupils are mirrors of yours, black and dilated. He just has time to wipe his blood from your mouth and get you as close as he can, before the attic door creaks, the barrel of a gun pushing it open. And the gangsters enter the room with practiced steps.

Yoongi pulls his shirt back down just before they have a chance to see.

You play the part, slumping against him and letting him take the reigns. the people must take it for pain even though you’re shaking not with sobs, but from the feeling of Yoongi’s soul intertwining with yours. Full body shivers and something solidifying between the two of you.

Together you shake, Yoongi is barely aware of the gangsters clearing the room.

You feel like you can taste his thoughts, though you can’t actually hear what he's thinking. You can feel the way they tumble like small waves over each other. You feel concern and something else, something that feels an offal lot like love shoot down the fledgling bond as Yoongi’s arms pull you up, firmer against him.

It makes shivers rise on every inch of your skin, the pleasure he feels when he touches you that you're now hyper-aware of. It's what your body has been craving- the completion of the bond.

You both bleed- your blood dripping onto the floor. One part sacrament and sacred love and another part poisonous longing for a man you hated so much more than you ever loved him. This feels strange, it feels wrong, and that you have one part of you reaching out for something that’s not there. And then this- with Yoongi, right and front of you and inside of you. Completely occupying your heart and your mind and your body.

Accept for that one poisoned inch; you might not be completely his, but it's enough now, the bond with yoongi occupying those thoughts you'd had minutes before.

The gangsters don’t touch Geumjae, at least until Moonbyul enters the room, unarmed. Yoongi’s cousin eyes Yoongi from the door. There isn’t enough room in this torture room for the 12 or so gangsters and the three of you, they press against the walls, guns at the ready.

Moonbyul approaches Geumjae’s corpse, turning him over with her foot to see his blankly staring face, turning it towards the heavens instead of hell. For a moment, Yoongi thinks she might actually kick him. She plucks her pink handgun from the floor. Someone passes her a rag and she wipes it free of blood and fingerprints.

Her eyes on Yoongi are hard; a bit of mirth playing on the edge of her mouth as she plays her hand. A queen in a room full of pawns and knights, and the king underfoot. Her hand of aces.

Betting it all on a simple game of roulette- red or black- will Yoongi challenge her or not. Yoongi doesn't miss the way her finger hovers on the trigger.

“I suppose this entire situation would be concerning to me- if you hadn’t already named me as Don.” she nudges Geumjae's body again with her foot. "I guess he didn't take it well?"

She lies effortlessly, taking the moment to seize power. So this was what she was waiting for. Yoongi doesn’t challenge her words for fear of what she might do right now, not that he really would anyway.

Yoongi tips his head forward in difference, “No he didn’t,”

Moonbyul tucks her gun back into her waistband, and holds out her hand to pull yoongi to his feet.

Yoongi takes you with him, small and still a little high in his arms. You hide your face in Yoongi’s shoulder, Holding onto him tight. You don’t know if you could take it if they tried to separate you now.

Yoongi has to swallow to continue, struggling to think before he speaks with so many new sensations shocking his body. He's intimately aware of the way you shift in his arms, arms tightening around you at the very idea of you moving more than an inch away from him right now as you settle onto your own two feet. still a little unsteady.

“He- he mated her against her will, and then he tried to kill us when I told him I wouldn’t- and- and after-” It’s not a lie- not really, but it still feels that way. Moonbyul doesn't need to do anything more than that to nod to call her men off, and they all relax around the room.

They instantly fade from engaged concern to understanding. The other heads of household will probably grill Yoongi more. But you’ve both got time to get your story straight. For now, they need to clean up the body.

It helps that threatening the beta is a punishable offense; no one will question Yoongi killing him- especially since they’re brothers. Most of the families tend to think that inner house spats that family's business. Yoongi doesn’t know which of his relatives will inherit the title of head of the Min family, but it won't be Yoongi.

You’re small and silent in Yoongi’s arms, so vulnerable, he keeps you a few paces away from any of the mobsters, bites down a growl whenever any of them come too close to his mate. It’s just the mating bond making it’s self-known. You are his. No one can touch you.

Yoongi has never been a possessive man, but now he is. The mating mark tearing through him and screaming at him to protect, to provide, to nurture, and keep safe. He strokes down your back as his cousin quietly orders the others to clean up the mess and Geumjae’s body. The family has cleanup crews on call for this very reason.

They quietly offer to burn the house down to stage the death but Yoongi doesn’t care. He guesses it belongs to him now or maybe you. It depends on which bond the family will consider more important; the bonds of a half mating or the bond of brotherhood.

“I’ll handle it-“ his cousin has the good grace to offer comfort to Yoongi that way when he gets you into her car. she doesn't say anything about the dents in the side.

Yoongi doesn’t quite hate her for any of this, but he doesn’t trust her the same way he did before either. She’s gotten what she wanted- the Don position. Plucked it from Yoongi’s hands.

“You haven’t had a chance to call the heads of house and tell them about your decision yet, but after that, you should be free to go” she reads him easily as always, The only other manipulator up to par with Yoongi himself in the gang. She knows that not an inch of Yoongi wants to stay in this house or this city a second longer.

At the idea of leaving you to straighten up in Yoongi’s lap to listen in a little more, you share a look with Yoongi. Your mate, your body sings the eye contact makes you shiver in your seat. Yoongi pulls you closer, stroking up to your arm mistakenly thinking you’re cold. You pull yourself closer to him- but it feels like you can’t get close enough, He makes a dissatisfied noise in his throat.

Yoongi will have to get used to this feeling. Like his soul is walking outside of his body. It feels incredibly vulnerable and intimate- He can feel your panic, how physically you’re being torn apart right now, every few minutes you shake. Yoongi puts your legs over his and holds you close. Watching your face closely for every twinge of pain as the lights of the city flicker over you two.

The meeting with the heads of house is tense, though the usual group of is two short now, standing only at eleven members now that Geumjae is gone and Moonbyul is named Don. You cannot be Don and a head of house at the same time.

It takes every bone in Yoongi’s body to let you be taken into the other room by Moonbyul’s mate to check over your injuries. He stops her with a hand on her shoulder. He catches Moonbyul’s nostrils flare, but she doesn’t say anything. “Would you look at her bruises for me?”

Later Yoongi will check them himself, again and again until he's sure you're all right. But the sooner you get ice on the nastier bruises the better off you’ll be. Someone should look at your ribs and your head too- he has half a mind to take you to the hospital before you leave the city. He doesn’t know how long it will be before you’re stationary again. He’d stay in the city tonight if you needed to. But he can feel your panic down the bond, The sooner you both get out of here the better.

With Geumjae dead there is no true opposition against his cousin's rule. She stands at the head of the table like she’s meant to be there. And still- the heads of the families talk through the night, kicking the non-proverbial dead horse into the ground. There is little mourning for Geumjae, one granny who cries faintly in the other room while the heads argue. Yoongi supposes he should look more upset, but no one pays attention to him now that he’s made his choice.

No, what they spend most of the time discuss is you. Sat in the other room, able to hear all of this, the men and woman weighing your fate and deciding what to do with you. If Yoongi listens, he can hear Hyejin’s quiet voice. Can feel your discomfort as the ice hits your ribs, maybe broken, definitely badly bruised.

Yoongi flinches every time he feels the pain pulse down the bond. Maybe in time, it will feel less sensitive but right now- Yoongi can feel your hurts just as bad as he can feel his own. A part of him is reaching out into the other room, screaming in his ear to go comfort his mate.

He has a mate. Yoongi can scarcely believe it.

The gangsters around the table remain blissfully unaware of that fact. Most of the heads are on the same page, and he won’t reveal his mating mark unless he absolutely needs to, he will let that secret stay secret unless necessary. It’s a good bargaining chip. They wouldn’t kill you if they knew it was going to kill him too. But still- it’s hard to hear them argue over your fate when he can’t intervene.

“You know the rules- no divorces and no separations,” one alpha says, he’s older- nearing 60, but Yoongi can’t excuse that cruelty with age. The youngest, the head of the Ahn house does the rebutting for Yoongi, and he bites his tongue.

“But it wouldn’t be a divorce; she’s his widow now and his ex-mate technically.”

“Yes but that’s only a half bond.” There is only one omega head, and the woman snubs her long cigarette out on the table leaving an ashy circle

“It’s only the alpha bite that matters- or have you forgotten?”

To her credit, the omega doesn't back down. “Chances are she’ll die anyway why are we even talking about her, we should start transitioning already.”

“That’s easy to say- if she’s got nothing left to lose what’s to stop her from going to the police.”

“I can keep an eye on her,” Yoongi volunteers, jumping at the chance to turn the discussion to his favor. They can all go fuck themselves if they ever dare to try and hurt you. “You say she’s as good as dead anyway. So you shouldn't mind if she comes with me.”

The likelihood of anyone living after their mate dies is in the teens. Yoongi knew that and even then he bonded to you anyway. He can only hope that with his bite coursing through your veins and your body confused that you’ve got better odds than that. Yoongi did what he promised to do, now your odds are both 50/50. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t go to the police.”

Through the bond he can feel your curiosity and a little bit of fear too, you’re listening in. And he does his best to let his calmness comfort you too. Your panic instantly relaxes and he senses you reaching out. If you were next to Yoongi you’d be holding hands, and it kind of feels that way. If you could ever hold hands with someone’s soul.

“You realize that if you make her your responsibility, anything bad that happens will fall on your head as well” their betas might be sacred- but they aren’t free from the rest of the laws of the gang.

“I understand.” The Don lifts her head, regarding Yoongi with a heavy look. “She’s his widow and whether we want to address it now or not, the law says she’s inherited his wealth.”

It's met with immediate opposition, several heads of house start speaking over each other at once, but Yoongi speaks up again, shouting over them. A beta raising their voice is about as strange as one giving or getting a mating bite, everyone falls silent. “Give it to me or her- I don’t care.”

another few minutes and they’re ready to let you go. they vote on it, and only 3 out of 11 heads vote to have you killed. Moonbyul gives the all clear, “Then you’re free to go.” Yoongi doesn’t even say goodbye, going to you in the other room just as quickly as he can without outright running. The Don’s mate is crouched in front of where you sit. Your body is mostly clean of blood and you’ve been put in other clothes; a pair of sweats and a baggy shirt.

Yoongi can see all the bruises on the side of your face turning purple and Yoongi wants to cup your face and bring it to his, kiss away the pain coloring your skin like watercolors, but can’t do it here. “Do we need to go to the hospital?”

“Not for her but maybe for you, no ones checked you over yet, have they?”

yoongi grits his teeth, seconds away from snapping at hyejin, he wants her to get away, get as far from you as possible. “i asked if she needed the hospital.”

Hyejin stands when Yoongi crouches. shaking her head when it becomes clear yoongi isn’t to be argued with right now. “There’s something wrong with her- but I think you know what” her eyes hover on Yoongi’s hip.

So at least she’s figured it out. She has the good sense to utter the words quietly. Though the people in the other room aren’t concerned with Yoongi anymore, they’ve already launched into discussions about transitioning power and re-defining responsibilities. It seems Moonbyul had a plan on how she wanted the family to run from the beginning.

He shakes off his annoyance, “Thank you,” he says to the omega, holding out a hand to you, which you take, still not saying anything. Tiredness holding you down to the chair. The same kind of look you’d had when Geumjae had died. The mating mark has been taped over but some of the blackness is still there. Yoongi wonders when it will fade, if it ever does.

“I wish I could say I’ll see you soon but I don’t think I will.” You and Yoongi nod, your hands twined between the two of you. She knows that neither you nor Yoongi has a love for the gang. No one stops you and Yoongi when you leave the house. Immediately hailing a taxi. You stop only at Yoongi’s safe house for a spare 20 minutes, while he packs up a fraction of his belongings in a hurried rush, anything to get out before someone tries to change their mind.

If Geumjae had any hidden loyalists the beta that killed him and his runaway wife would be the first targets. Let alone their reaction if they knew who had really killed Geumjae. The quicker the two of you get away from the city the better.

You end up at the train station, Yoongi breaks the bracelets off of your wrist- the same ones that he saw you wear on you the first night- and the ones that he’s always thought looked like shackles. He yanks at them as hard as he can until they snap; kissing your wrist after each one is off. You throw them over the side of the chain-link fence and into the darkness- to be lost forever you hope. The symbols of all you’ve lost.

When you get on the train, you cuddle close under Yoongi’s jacket and into his warmth. He’s a protective barrier between you and the third seat that thankfully remains empty this late into the night it’s so late it’s nearly early morning. Most of the train is empty besides an elderly couple at the front. Regardless, the two of you sit behind them. Yoongi can’t take his eyes off of the potential threat. Actually flinches when the conductor comes around to stamp your tickets.

You head off into the night- your little box of light in a sea of street lamps and hidden dangers. You almost fall asleep a few times, head bobbing as you catching yourself before it hits his shoulder. After the third time this happens he pulls you in close, tucks your head close to his scent gland, and commands “sleep” in a voice that you cannot disobey.

Eventually, you wake, the car is bright with the midday sun and the car is half full. Yoongi’s eyes are bloodshot as they train on every passenger who comes in and leaves your train car. Yoongi holds your hand, rubbing his thumb up and down the back in an endless trail. A conductor opens the door of your train car to pass through, bunching a few tickets here and there from the new passengers who have boarded the train.

He passes by where you're bundled and Yoongi flinches so hard it wakes you fully. his shoulder accidentally nudging a bruise on your cheek, He murmurs his apologies, panicked hands fussing over you. He could feel that he hit one of your bruises and the horror of hurting you make him wide-eyed and worried. You catch his hands, pressing the pads of them to your lips. Yoongi's hands shake as they touch you, hours later, he's still high on adrenaline.

“You need to sleep Yoongi” it’s been a long few days for both of you.

He doesn’t answer with more than a grunt. But you get off the train at the next stop and it’s nearing noon by the time the two of you stumble across the street to a motel, and it’s shitty and smells like cigarettes and the lady at the front desk asks if you need the hourly rate or the daily rate. Though she does give you a discount because Yoongi’s a beta. Eyeing the blood-soaked collar of his jacket and the bloody bandages on your neck.

You should be holed up somewhere safe away from prying eyes to adjust to your new mating bite- not in a hotel where the smells of other people assault your nose. Making you press close to Yoongi because everything smells so new and scary. Like your senses have been turned up and only Yoongi can quell their sensitivity.

you don’t realize that the attendant gave you two beds until you get to the room. you both stare blankly before you cough and separated. the closeness too much now that you’re alone and free from threats. Though it doesn't feel that way.

you hate it- you don’t want to curl up across the room from Yoongi- you want to be next to him. you almost whimper when he He steps away to the other bed to set down his backpack. You want to cry, your skin feels irritated and itchy without his pressed to yours. You want him to touch you but you can’t stay it. Don’t know how to ask around the thickness in your throat.

He gets a clean shirt from his black backpack and helps you put it on so that you don’t irritate the mating bite. You can’t lift either of your arms much and neither can he but he pushes through the pain for you. He only has 2 or three sets of clothes that he grabbed from the cottage, and it’s all you’ve got.

“We’ll get some more clothes for you tomorrow.” He doesn’t say that you should have grabbed some of your clothes- because you both know you couldn’t handle staying in that house a second more than was necessary. You barely thought to linger long enough to grab your purse, which thankfully had everything you really need in it.

Somehow he has athletic tape in his bag, and he spends a few minutes changing out your soaked through bandages, bundling up toilet paper, and taping it over your mating bite. Only after yours is taken care of does he let you do the same for his bite on his hip, and the burns on his hands.

You pull his pants off and then his boxers down just enough so that you can get at it, small from your mouth, the skin around it irritated and pink. You try not to let your eyes hover on the small happy trail that traces from his belly button downwards. The band on his boxers is stained with blood- and you wonder how much it hurt to have it dig into it all day.

You curl up in separate beds, and only when you’re under the covers do you slide off your pants. leaving you only in a large shirt that smells like yoongi. Yoongi does the same, says “goodnight” and shuts off the light but doesn’t turn away from you, keeping his eyes on you in the darkness.

You’re silent for a few minutes, but you can tell that neither of you is falling asleep. Your bed feels cold and you wonder if he feels the same, you let the distance hurt for a minute before you give in.

"Thank fucking god-" He peels back the blanket for you the second you make the move and dash across the cold room. you scoot into his warmth and he lets out a little ‘oof’ when you collide. Letting him pull you closer, put the blanket over your back, and make sure all of your skin is covered.

It’s not enough for Yoongi and he pulls you sideways so that he can get some of his weight on top of you. A growl building in his chest at the thought of anyone walking through the door right now.

He needs to check the lock, make sure that no one can possibly disturb you. Needs to- the instinct filling him so harshly he can’t breathe. He tries to pull away, but your hands tighten on him, and you let out a whine so heartbreaking that instantly has him releasing comforting chocolate, flopping back on top of you nuzzling under your chin, you feel like you’re drowning in it.

Your love with Yoongi is still too new and raw to be close like this without feeling shy- and yet you can’t resist, your mating bond is like a fresh burn that you can’t stop picking at because it hurts. (Like there’s something dead there that you need to get rid of, you can’t heal around, you need to tear it out so that it feels more like bleeding rather than something that was carved out by hungry heat.) You fiddle with the bandage at your neck before Yoongi takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together.

For a moment, you crave the release that blood might give you- and like he can feel it. Yoongi presses a kiss to the back of your hand. “Couldn’t sleep?” Yoongi says. You shake your head. The motel creeks and overhead you can hear someone else moving in an adjacent room. Yoongi gets his head on your pillow and adjusts his hand around your waist so that he’s not hitting the vicious bruise that Geumjae left with one of his kicks.

The last 24 hours have been such a tangle. It feels weird to not move now. Yoongi’s heart is still hammering; you can feel it under your palm. You’re both unwilling to relax and close your eyes even for a second even though you’re both exhausted.

You’re worried if you close your eyes you’re going to see Geumjae's face.

Yoongi left the light in the bathroom on for you. Sensing that the shadows would be too thick with nightmares for you to handle for long. You look at each other in the darkness before Yoongi lets out a shaky little giggle.

“Do you know what I just realized?” he says, the words quieted against the too scratchy bedspread. “We could have gotten a better hotel, we easily have enough money for it now” and that’s true.

If Yoongi’s orders were followed and the gang's accountant really did transfer all of your inherited wealth to your name then- fuck- both of you saw the bank statements. Both of you know how much money Yoongi’s family had amassed- the same wealth that Geumjae had inherited and now you.

“Fuck you’re right,” you say, ducking in so that you don’t have to meet Yoongi’s eyes. Geumjae used to hit you sometimes if you did that- and trained habits die-hard.

yoongi kisses your brow, slow little pecks that travel down your cheeks, as unhurried as they are sweet. It's strange to be close to him now when it’s all you’ve wanted for the last few months. You never thought you’d get this. It feels like a daydream and a nightmare all at once.

“We could buy a whole house- or three” and even then you’d have more than enough money to live on after. For the rest of your days, comfortable and cozy even if you were foolish with the money. Yoongi still gets his stipend from the gang. No doubt to be greater now that he’s the only beta.

He stops his kisses, mouth hovering on your cheek, “We could do that.” he sounds like he’s barely containing his excitement.

You’ll both be fine. Neither of you will ever have to worry about money again and it makes you feel sick and happy with something that feels a terrible lot like grief.

Even if you got that- the last 24 hours haven’t been worth it. You’re not entirely out of the woods yet. The mark on your shoulder is scabbing over and inky. But every few hours of closeness that the two of you have- Yoongi think’s he sees the color fade- just a little bit.

You don’t know where the giggle comes from but one moment it comes out of your mouth and you laugh, and Yoongi joins in the sound startling out of his chest. He presses his forehead tight against yours and sighs at the sound. You see the moment clarity falls on him and an idea settles into his mind the second it hits. And dim happiness settles over your bond.

Yoongi lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses your bruised knuckles. “Let's buy a house.”

You smile- tired from today but still willing to placate him. “Okay Yoongi, we can do that.”

Now finally, his eyes are starting to droop, every few seconds he tries to keep them open, but you know he's seconds away from sleep. His words slurred when they whisper, his sweet chocolaty breath tickling your cheeks. “Goodnight sweetheart- love you.”

“Love you too,” it’s the first time you’ve ever said those words to each other. It feels like the first of many times you’ll say it. Forever- you and Yoongi will be mated together until you both die. And who cares if that happens tomorrow or months from now. Who cares? Because you have him and that’s all that matters.

Yoongi holds you and knows- that he will love you- as long as he can.

He watches you sleep, waits until your eyes are closed. Until he can make sure you’re safe and warm. A gentle purring fills the hotel room, soft and peaceful. yoongi hears it louder when he presses his ear to your chest. He tries to keep his eyes open, but somewhere around the second hour- they fall closed.

Neither of you dream.

—————

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fairyofthestar · 2 years

Text

free love

word count: 1.8k

genre: tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship

a/n: no one really requested for a hyuka song au which made me feel :( so i wrote one on my own bc my poor meow meow deserves more. i hope that changes when i open my requests back up. this song reminds me of him so it was really nice using it for an au about him :D hyuka my love <3

imagine a place where we can be free there's no one for miles, it's just you and me

on days where the already warm sun was shining down on the earth with extra strength in its rays, there was only one way that a carefree couple could enjoy the day without feeling like they were suffocating from the heat.

"IT'S THE OCEAN!" huening kai yelled while running straight towards the soft yellow sand. you laughed at his excitement that could match the excitement of a kid going inside of a toy store while closing the door of the driver's seat. hyuka insisted on driving but knowing how he had been wanting to go to the beach for so long, you feared that he would drive way too fast, causing an unplanned detour towards the hospital.

you shielded your eyes from the ray of the sun as you watched him jump around. "he's definitely going to tire himself out after an hour," you mumbled to yourself, shaking your head fondly.

you didn't show it, but you were as excited as he was. you always felt like you had a deep connection with water and to be in front of the ocean again made you feel like you were regaining strength that you had lost since the last time you saw it—like you were home.

as soon as you let out a content sigh, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind. you smiled and relaxed in the embrace of your boyfriend, opening your eyes to watch the way that the water moved.

"it's pretty, right?" hyuka asked softly, placing his chin on your shoulder. you hummed in agreement and slightly turned your head towards him. "not as pretty as you though," he added.

"so cheesy," you snorted and rolled your eyes playfully as an attempt to hide the rush of blood that was slowly making its way on your cheeks.

months after saying yes to him being your boyfriend, his words still had an effect on you as if he was flirting for the first time. he knew exactly how to fluster you with his compliments or even just by reiterating something that you swore you thought he had forgotten. he was such an attentive, sweet, and gentle boyfriend. he was your first, and hopefully your last.

he chuckled at your reaction and you felt him place a chaste kiss on the side of your neck before loosening his embrace.

hyuka momentarily letting you go wasn't so that he could do something else like sit on the sand to continue staring at the water. it was far from it and it was because the mischievous side of him instantly sprung up after uttering those sweet words.

he loosened his grip to readjust his hold on you and easily lifted you up with his strong arms. an evil grin was on his face and you shrieked as soon as you felt your feet being lifted up from the sand.

"if you don't put me down i swear to god, hyuka!" he only laughed at your yells and slowly started walking towards the water. you couldn't see it, but he was thoroughly enjoying seeing you in this state. "HYUKA!"

"sorry, i can't hear you over the sound of the water!" he teased, wiggling you in his arms a bit. you watched the water get closer and audibly groaned as it seemed like there was no stopping this 6 ft. tall man who had an insane amount of strength despite not really working out.

soon enough, hyuka was calf-deep in the water and you started feeling nervous. both of you had a change of clothes but you would rather go in the water at your own accord than be thrown in it, which was what you were expecting him to do.

"are you ready?" he asked, the grin evident in his voice. "you're so dead when i get my hands on you, huening kai," you groaned, twisting your upper body so that you could glare at him.

he craned his head to the side so you could see him better, gladly accepting the daggers that you sent him through your eyes. he then pouted, "will you really kill me before i even get the chance to marry you?"

your breath hitched. conversations about that far in the future had never been brought up between the two of you. your relationship was more 'let's enjoy and go with whatever life brings us,' than setting up plans as big as that. of course you wanted to marry hyuka, god it would be amazing to start a family with him but with the way he approached life with the same flow as your relationship, you never really thought that you would be part of a future that he planned.

"p-put me down hyuka," you stuttered, the order coming out weaker than intended because you were hung up over what he said. hyuka finally gave in and gently put you down. your feet touching the cold water instantly woke you and you turned around to hit his arm as if you didn't have a moment of weakness—something that you hoped hyuka didn't notice.

hyuka exclaimed with a laugh, rubbing the arm that you hit.

"am i going to die now?" he raised an eyebrow, challenging you. you narrowed your eyes at him, not saying anything. you slowly started taking a few steps backward and the prolonged silence started making hyuka feel a bit nervous.

when you were two feet away from him, you quickly bent down and splashed a big amount of water towards him. the sight of him with his eyes closed, his lips tucked, and his whole body drenched in salt water made you let out a belly laugh—something that was always music to hyuka's ears and the best part of today was being able to hear it in a string of melodies as you both tried to out-splash one another.

i can't get you all that stuff but i can give you all my love free love are the simple things enough? i got to give you all my love free love

"have you really thought about marrying me?" you asked casually while taking a sip of the lime soda can that hyuka bought.

playing in the water completely tired out both of you and you decided to sit on the sand while sipping on something after you two had dried yourselves.

you didn't plan on saying anything about it but with the way that the sun was preparing to bid the world a good night, you couldn't help but bring it up. sunsets always make you feel sentimental and warm inside so your tone was casual but deep down, your heart was racing and your head was creating a dozen scenarios on what a future with hyuka would be like.

he turned to you with soft and questioning eyes and you kept your gaze on the sun. "of course i have. what makes you think i haven't?"

you shrugged. "i just didn't think you'd have a plan that far in the future." he hummed, understanding what you mean. he turned his head back towards the sun, taking a sip as he tried to recall the plan that he had.

"i can imagine us having a house near the beach since we both like the ocean a lot. i think it would be therapeutic to be met with the view of the ocean every morning and every night. maybe a place that people don't go to often so we wouldn't get bothered. we'd have a dog that we can play with on the sand and if you want to, we'd have kids of our own."

you listened to him say his plan out loud and you couldn't help but feel butterflies flutter in your stomach. he really thought about all of this with you?

you looked away from the sun and towards the sand beneath you, the thought of having kids with him making you blush. "how many would you like?" you asked quietly. seeing you so shy made hyuka chuckle. he let out a hum as he thought of an answer.

"maybe three? but twins could be cool too. that would do it for me," you laughed in disbelief, finally turning your head to look at him. you could see the excitement in his eyes and the fond smile that he was shining down on you, making your heart flutter even more.

"it's going to be hard carrying twins, though?" you teased.

"you have me. i will do everything that i can so you won't have a hard time. i'll drive around for your crazy cravings and be there to hold your hand through the pain and if i could transfer the pain on my body instead of yours, i would."

it was the perfect answer. he was the perfect boyfriend.

you scooted closer to him and laid your head on his broad shoulder. a content sigh escaped your lip as the both of you watched one of nature's most beautiful views in front of you. shades of vibrant orange, yellow, and blue painted the sky and beautifully reflected on the clear salt water.

you wanted to capture the sunset but decided not to. a camera could never perfectly capture such beauty, something that hyuka thought to himself as he watched you stare at the phenomena in awe. he did watch the sun set and thought it was beautiful, but there was something more beautiful about seeing it being reflected on your eyes and seeing its soft rays kiss your skin.

"i know my plan seems far-fetched because we're young and don't have that kind of money yet, but i really hope i can someday give you all of that and everything else that you deserve if you allow me," he sincerely said. you lifted your head from his shoulder to look at him, eyebrows instantly furrowing in concern at how dejected he looked.

you placed a hand on his cheek, gently rubbing in with your thumb knowing that it was one of the things that comforted him. "we have all of the time in the world to work for that. like you said, we're young so things are just starting for us. besides, i already have everything that i need right here," you finished with a peck on his lips and the action instantly put a smile on his face. "i'm content with how we are now."

"so you want to marry me too?" he asked, voice filled with hope. you giggled, fully thinking that he would have known the answer from the moment that you asked about the number of your kids.

you nodded, a fond smile on your face. "yes, huening kai. i want to marry you too."

☆ taglist: @nyangjjunie @ifwtyun

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#Spotify #song requests #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt x reader #txt x y/n #huening kai imagines #huening kai scenarios #huening kai x reader

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little-spoiled-brat · 3 years

Note

Congrats on 100 followers ! You deserve every one of them and more :)) Your content is always so good, thank you so much for feeding us so well :)

Okay I finally made my choice and I'm coming to request for 6 and 25 from the NSFW prompt with Levi :))

WRITING PROMPT # 10:

"don't tempt me, i'll fuck you on this desk"

"look at the mess you've made"

pairing: levi x reader - nsfw, minors dni

cw: possessive levi, rough sex, teasing, slight masturbation, choking, fingering f receiving, degrading, slight overstimulation, belly bulge, dumbification, praise kink, squirting

author’s note: did i got carried away with this? maybe.

- after hours -

it was the end of a rather tiring day, you barely got to see levi today and you were just glad that you were back in his office. however, a frown formed on your face upon seeing him still working on paperworks.

you sighed, closing the door with a soft click and walking over to his desk. levi looked up from his paperwork and patted his thighs, a smile formed on your lips and you happily obliged to sit on his lap.

you straddled him, wrapping your arms around his neck and he wrapped his arms around your waist. he placed a kiss on your temple, gently running his hand through your hair.

“it felt like i haven’t seen you all day, brat” levi sighed tiredly as you buried your face into the crook of his neck and placed a light kiss on the soft skin in return.

”come to bed, you need rest” you said, pulling away from him and ran your hand through his hair as he hummed in satisfaction, his eyes closing.

“tch. i still have paperworks to finish” levi grumbled, opening his eyes again, snaking his arms around you to continue scribbling on the paper on his desk.

you sighed in defeat, kissing his cheek before getting off of his lap. you took a chair and dragged it beside his before plopping yourself down on it.

it didn’t take long until your eyes were wandering over your boyfriend — his focused grey-blue eyes, his slightly parted lips, his muscles that contracted whenever he wrote something down, his thighs-

“oi, y/n. what the hell are you doing?” levi snapped you out of your thoughts as you looked up at him. heat rose to your cheeks once you realized that while you were busy gawking over you boyfriend, your hand had found their way onto your clit — onto what was his.

and levi did not like it when you touch what’s his.

a lightbulb lit up inside your head and you continued to rub your clit through your sweatpants as if nothing was happening. you watched levi’s jaw tense at your actions, his eyes slowly filling with undesirable lust.

”don’t you have paperworks to finish? get back to work” you said as levi glared at you and a smirk pulled up in the corner of your lips.

”i will when you stop touching what’s mine” levi hissed through gritted teeth and you stopped touching yourself.

“good girl”

fucking hell.

you stood up, taking off your sweatpants and your underwear before sitting back down on the chair. levi’s eyes drifted back to you, finally catching up on your intentions.

“don’t you fucking dare“ levi warned as you moved the chair a bit so you were directly facing him. your hand trailed down your clit again, circling the sensitive bud in small figures of eight. “fuck, levi”

“brat” levi growled, a warning tone to his voice but you kept going, you slipped two fingers into you and moaned loudly on purpose.

“oh shit, levi. that feels so good” you moaned, throwing your head back and slowly pumping your fingers in and out as your eyes closed. “oh fuck me”

“don’t tempt me, i’ll fuck you on this desk” levi growled, his hand wrapping around your throat as your eyes flew open. your hand flew to his wrist, holding on tightly.

"please"

without a second thought, levi picked you up and swiftly swiped away every paper off his desk before placing you down on top of it.

“flithy brat” levi hissed, inserting three fingers inside of you and pumping them in a fast pace. your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your velvet walls sucking his fingers in oh so deliciously.

“t-too f-fast” you said, the knot in your stomach quickly building up. you tried to close your legs out of instinct but levi pushed your thighs apart.

“no. you’re going to take everything i fucking give you, filthy slut” levi spat, venom lacing his voice as you whimpered. your breathing became heavy, holding onto his arms desperately as the knot started to break.

”fuck! levi!” you moaned, back arching as the first wave of pleasure came washing over you. levi wrapped his hand around your throat and pushed you back down flat on his desk.

“w-wait, levi” you whimpered, reaching for his wrist to stop him from inserting his fingers inside of you again. he simply glared at you, pumping his fingers in and out again.

“look at you, already being a mess and you haven’t even taken my cock yet” levi teased, curling his fingers to hit your g-spot. you moaned at his words, gripping the wrist of his hand that was around you throat for leverage.

the pleasure was already starting to become too much and levi was just getting started with you.

it didn’t take long until the second wave of pleasure washed over you. your body was already trembling from the earth shattering orgasms levi caused twice in a row.

you looked up at your boyfriend with half lidded eyes as he tenderly cupped your cheek, letting you breathe for a few minutes.

then it was his cock you were taking.

“shit, you’re so tight“ levi groaned, sliding his entire length inside of you, your arousal and orgasms from earlier acting as lube for him.

“w-wait” you breathed out, pressing your palm flat on his abdomen to silently tell him not to move. levi understood, staying still for a few minutes to let you adjust to his size.

“you’re being a good girl so far, brat” levi whispered, leaning down and kissing your forehead tenderly. you smiled up at him and pulled him down to connect your lips together.

“you can move now” you whispered into the kiss as levi slowly started thrusting in and out of you. he did a few test thrusts before settling for a steady but still fast pace.

“y/n” levi moaned in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. his voice — his damn seductive voice moaning your name in the most sinful way.

levi shifted his angle to hit that spongy spot inside of you that makes your brain melt with every thrust his hips made against yours. he chuckled smugly, adoring the light bulge of his cock on your lower belly whenever he thrusts into you.

“brat” levi called out as you looked at him with empty eyes, lips parted in pleasure and overall fucked dumb over his cock. this boosted levi’s ego even more.

he chuckled, wrapping his hand around your throat once again and squeezing lightly. “are you fucked dumb because of my cock? hm?”

you nodded pathetically, not being able to form any understandable sentences for him. levi leaned down and kissed your lips before thrusting in harder, his gentleness leaving just as fast as it appeared.

“l-levi!” you moaned, eyes squeezed shut and he spread your legs apart even more. the all too familiar knot started to form in your lower stomach again.

“fuck, i’m close” levi groaned, his thrusts slowly getting sloppy. he felt you tighten around him before and he knew you were also close.

“c-can’t h-hold anymore, n-need to c-cum” you whimpered, trying your hardest not to release without levi’s permission. he moaned at your words, his thumb reaching down and rubbed at your sensitive clit.

“cum for me. don’t hold back, brat” levi said and you did. you fell apart for him, the third wave of pleasure washing over you and you kept eye contact the entire time.

“that’s it, good girl. good fucking girl, y/n“ levi praised, pulling out and replacing his cock with his fingers to prolong your orgasm even more.

“f-fuck, l-levi. gonna m-make a mess“ you moaned, trying to grab at his wrist like before. with a few thrusts of his fingers, you came for the fourth time and squirted all over his desk.

levi moaned, releasing his cum on your stomach at the sight of you squirting. he carefully pulled his soaking fingers out of your aching cunt and licked them clean, all while looking you in the eyes.

fuck, that was hot.

“you taste so good, brat” levi said, kissing your lips and letting you taste yourself on his tongue. you wrapped your arms around him, running your hand through his hair as the both of you came down from your highs.

“i love you” you whispered tiredly and levi smiled, kissing your forehead lovingly. “i love you“

he pulled you up from his desk and handing you your underwear and sweatpants from before as the both of you got redressed.

“look at the mess you’ve made“ levi said, glancing at his desk where traces of your juices and his cum were still evident on the usually neat surface. “eh? your cum is also on there, don’t blame it all on me”

”tch. still partially your fault” you pouted as levi chuckled and ruffled your hair affectionately, grabbing something to wipe his desk clean. you collected the papers that he ruthlessly pushed off of his desk from earlier and organized them in a neat pile once the desk was clean and in prestine condition again.

levi let you straddle his lap again, his arms caging you in while he worked on the papers that were temporarily abandoned because of you intimate session.

levi kissed your forehead once more and it didn’t take you long until you fell asleep in his arms.

#levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman x reader #levi x y/n #levi x reader #levi ackerman #aot #aot smut #aot x reader #aot x y/n #attack on titan #snk smut #snk x y/n #snk x reader #shingeki no kyojin #snk

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idy-ll-ique · 3 years

Text

A Good Look.

Pairing: Mob Boss!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: major angst, lil bit of fluff

Warnings: mentions of blood and wounds, domestic violence (no graphic descriptions). hella curse words in one paragraph. one infinity war reference ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Requested: nope

Summary: reader works at a bar owned by the notorious mob boss. he immediately takes a liking to her; unfortunately, she's taken. but is she happy in her relationship? hm, not quite...

Author's Note: hiya peeps! enjoy!

masterlist

---

For her, it started small. It was her first day working. When Y/N had seen him walk into the bar, flanked by two of his closest friends, sure— for a moment, she was stunned, as were the other women working with her, but then as soon as he was out of sight, she returned to her work, ignoring her friends as they talked about the man.

Y/N knew better. She knew the kind of man he was, the way he was with a different woman almost every day and she knew better than to develop any kind of feelings for him. Plus, she was a taken woman herself, thinking about another man while being in a relationship with someone had to be wrong, right?

That's why she wanted an out— to break up with her current boyfriend. And he even made it easier for her by being the worst fucking boyfriend on the planet earth. She had hundreds of reasons as to why she was breaking up with him, the only question was when she could do it. Anyway, back to James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes...

Y/N couldn't help it. She went from ignoring him, to stealing small glances at him, to dreaming about him to thinking about him 24/7 in a matter of months.

Y/N worked as a bartender at one of the bars that the mobster owned. Heck, Bucky Barnes owned half the city, but that bar was one of his favorite places to visit. He went there everyday, most days not having a drink, but keeping a watchful gaze on the events that took place around the bar. There would be fights sometimes, and sometimes, the older men would hit on the young bartenders.

He didn't care, of course he didn't. That is, until he saw her. The moment he laid his eyes on her, her name still unknown to him, he was enamored. He kept looking over at her as she worked, sometimes giggling along with the other bartenders, sometimes cracking jokes that made all of them keel over in laughter.

Every time he saw her laughing, his heart fluttered in his chest and a warmth settled over him. He felt light-headed and giddy, even though he didn't drink. Within a few months, he was sure, he wanted her to be his indefinitely. Y/N, however, was shocked at his behavior, not knowing that she was the one who stole his heart.

His promiscuity stopped within the first week of him noticing Y/N. He no longer had one-night stands, no more dames by his side as he attended lavish parties, and the news had caught on. Who is the woman who won the mobster's affections? Y/N had read in a paper one morning. She felt… kind of relieved that he wasn't a playboy anymore.

It wasn't a good look on him.

---

Y/N was cleaning the counter with a rag when she heard the door opening and closing. Ugh, another customer. She looked up and grimaced as she saw one of the old, pervy bastards sitting in front of her, a smile on his face. "Good evening, sir, what can I get you?" She kept the annoyance from seeping into her voice.

He gave her his order and leaned forward, which caused Y/N to unconsciously lean back. "Change your mind today?" he smirked, picking up the glass just as Y/N set it down in front of him, causing their fingers to brush. She shuddered. "No," she replied politely, glancing around the room, hoping someone would come save her. As if. That's when their eyes met.

Y/N found herself staring at the man of her dreams, who was sitting in the corner of the bar with his friends. And he was staring straight back at her. Y/N gulped and turned away from him, instead focusing on the man in front of her who was shamelessly flirting with the woman who had to be at least 20 years younger than him.

"Stop flirting with my employee and let her do her job."

The entire bar froze the moment James Buchanan Barnes got up from his seat, heading towards Y/N. Y/N's breath caught in her throat at his cool but threatening tone as he stared at the pervert, his eyebrows raised. The bar was silent as the man gulped and backed away from the counter, running out of the door like a chicken. Y/N stared at the floor.

"Hey."

She looked up and audibly gulped again, wincing in embarrassment when she realized that he had to know how scared she was. "Mr Barnes," she greeted, though it came out more like a squeak as her voice cracked. Please, go away, don't stand so close to me, I can't take it, go away, she kept muttering in her head.

"You okay?" he asked gently, not wanting the poor woman to collapse from anxiety. Some sadistic part of him liked it that she was so afraid of him, but mostly, he just wanted to make her feel comfortable. "Yeah." Y/N relaxed a bit at his question when she realized he wasn't going to hurt or fire her.

"Good." Then he walked away like he hadn't just set Y/N's entire body on fire by talking to her. As he sat back down on his seat, he inwardly cursed himself for not asking her her name. I don't even know the name of the woman I have fallen head over heels for, nice going Barnes! Gah! He ran a hand through his hair, glaring at nothing in particular.

He stayed until it was closing time, and found out something so incredible that his heart soared at the information. Y/N was the only employee who stayed until closing time. Y/N groaned loudly in the seemingly empty bar as she swept the place, not noticing the mobster boss sitting in the dark corner, watching her.

"Fuck you, Y/N. Fuck. You. Literally. What was the fucking reason?!" Y/N grumbled to herself, her voice reverberating off the walls in the empty place. "He was just checking up on you. Why the fuck did you treat him like he was the monster?! You dumbass. Ugh, I'm gonna have to make it up to him; what if he fires me?!" Y/N couldn't help the tears.

"He checked up on you and no thank you. What an ungrateful little bitch you are, you… you fucking idiot," Y/N continued speaking through the tears. "Maybe a free drink when he comes back tomorrow? Hah, as if, he owns the fucking bar. What should I do? Sleep with him? As if. Fuck. Shit."

"How about we start by washing your mouth with a soapbar, doll?"

Y/N froze when she heard him. Oh God, he was still here. "M-Mr Barnes?" she stammered, turning towards the voice. Bucky got up from his seat and strode towards her, making sure to keep some distance between them as he stopped in front of her. "Do you always ramble to yourself while you work?" he questioned amusedly.

When she had started rambling, he was confused. Who was she talking about? Then, he connected the dots. At first he was a bit amused but as her speech continued, he couldn't take it. How can someone degrade themselves so much? Y/N couldn't answer him, her vocal cords tied in a knot in her throat.

"I asked you something, and I'm waiting for an answer." At the authoritative tone she looked up at him, her eyes wide. "I— uh, yeah, it's— it's, um, become a habit," she muttered, breathing heavily. What was he going to do to her? "You shouldn't cuss yourself out so much, doll," he frowned, crossing his arms. And without thinking, she replied, "Sorry."

"That man was clearly bothering you, I did what I had to do. I didn't expect anything in return. Sure, a thank you would've been nice," he teased lightly, "But please, never talk to yourself like that ever again, okay?" His gentleness turned something inside of Y/N and suddenly, she felt relaxed. Like she had known him for years.

"Okay. Oh, and, thank you." She gave him a smile so winsome that all he wanted to do was hold her against him and never let go. "Hold on, maybe there is something you can do." The smile disappeared, replaced by a frown. "What is it?" she asked him, blinking. "Can we talk? Maybe you can tell me about yourself, and I can get to know you better."

So she did. Both of them sat at the bar with Bucky's favorite beer poured in mugs, talking. Y/N told him about how she was a university student, and that she had taken the job because she was in need of money. "You aren't scared? A lot of shit happens here, doll," Bucky commented, sipping his beer. "I don't know… it doesn't faze me as much as it should."

"And me! I'm the most dangerous man in the city and yet, you agreed to sit here with me, alone." At that, a smile bloomed on Y/N's face, the beer getting to her head, loosening her up. She looked away from him, almost shyly. "You saved me today, Mr Barnes. How can I not trust the guy who saved me?" Bucky's heart started hammering in his chest.

"Thank you, Y/N, that means a lot," he spoke sincerely. "You're welcome! So, uh, I actually have to go to uni early tomorrow, so… I'd like to go home, please?" He immediately nodded at her words, helping her off the stool. He even helped her finish her chores before she locked the main door and turned around, smiling at Bucky.

"Well, this is it, I guess. Goodbye, Mr Barnes."

"Let me drop you home, please." And he did, pestering her until she agreed to get in his car. She insisted her apartment building was only a 15-minute walk away from the bar, but he wouldn't listen. "A lot can happen in 15 minutes, doll." And Y/N couldn't help but snort. "That's what she said." Her joke made him laugh so hard that he almost swerved the car into the sidewalk.

As Y/N stared at the laughing man, she felt tingly inside. Her feelings rushed to her; butterflies in her stomach. When they reached home, again, he insisted on dropping her off at her apartment, but Y/N declined. And this time, he didn't fight it. "Goodnight, Mr Barnes," she told him with a sweet smile, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.

He had been such a gentleman that day, he deserved it. "Bucky will do, my love. Be safe, okay? We'll meet tomorrow." With that, he drove off.

And for the first time in months, Y/N went to sleep happy, giddy and absolutely satisfied.

So did Bucky.

---

After that one incident in the bar, Y/N and Bucky became close. When he was at the bar, Y/N was the center of his attention. He was the one who now sat in front of her, talking to her about his day and asking her about hers. "Tell me about your uni, doll," or, "Do you know what they did to me today? Ugh! Maniacs!"

Soon, everyone in the bar started giving them space. They knew the two were not sleeping together, but Barnes had, at last, found a female friend. How did they know the two were not sleeping together, you ask? Simple. Y/N still had a boyfriend. An abusive one, so she didn't tell Barnes.

After finding out about the events that had taken place at the bar that day between Y/N and Bucky, her boyfriend had reached new heights of jealousy and insecurity, not hesitating to raise a hand on his own girlfriend as he blatantly accused her of cheating on him with the mobster. It wasn't true by a long shot, and it hurt.

Y/N hadn't told Bucky about her boyfriend, because she knew that if she told him, he'd kill her boyfriend. She was about to break up with him anyway, so getting Bucky involved would only create more problems. A peaceful break up, and it was over. Unfortunately, peace was not involved on the day of the inevitable break up...

Bucky was already at the bar, but was grumpy since Y/N wasn't there. He was so desperate that he had asked one of her friends if she knew where the woman was. But the other woman could only shake her head, indicating that she didn't know. Bucky ran a hand through his hair, his eyes trailing to the door the moment he heard it opening. He froze.

Everybody did.

Y/N was standing there, a very noticeable dark red patch on her white t-shirt. When she noticed that everyone was staring at her, especially Bucky, it made her nervous. Should've stayed at home. For a moment, she actually did consider going back out through the door but Bucky spoke up first. "Y/N, come here. Everyone out, bar's closed."

His tone was something she had never heard before. A mixture of annoyance, hurt, worry, but mostly anger. In another scenario, the scene of all the people scrambling out of the tiny door would've been extremely hilarious. But here, no one was laughing. Y/N stood frozen until the door closed behind her.

"I asked you to come here, doll."

Instinctively, she strode towards him, stopping just a few inches away. He stared down at her, jaw clenched. Being a mobster, he was used to seeing blood and could identify it easily. And it was definitely blood that was covering almost a sixth of Y/N's t-shirt. "Lift your shirt. Take it off, right now," he snarled.

Y/N, not wanting him to take his anger out on her, immediately ripped the t-shirt off of her, standing in front of him in her sports bra, a deep gash just under her left breast. Y/N flinched when his fingers came in contact with her wound and Bucky immediately retracted his arm. "What happened?" His tone changed. Now, it was simply full of hurt.

"He stabbed me." Bucky's hands balled into fists at his side. One name, all he needed her to do was give him a name and the bastard was dead, whether she liked it or not. "Who did?" "My boyfriend." Bucky went rigid at her words. All this time, she was taken? "You have a…?" She shook her head, letting her tears fall free. "Not anymore." That reassured him.

"I decided to break up with him today. Decided to do it before my shift here, so my job could distract me. He… he didn't like it. And he…" Y/N choked out through the tears. Bucky's body was boiling with anger. "Tell me his name right now." Y/N started feeling light-headed. "Bucky…" she whispered feebly, swaying on her spot. And he cursed loudly when she fell forward, unconscious.

He carried her out of the bar, put her in his car and drove above the speed limit to his place. He had a private infirmary at his mansion, where he knew Y/N would be the safest. Once he was home, not caring that his expensive suit was getting ruined by blood, he ran to the infirmary, Y/N in his arms. The doctors took her in for an operation and they had to admit—

They had never seen the mobster look so scared.

After he was sure Y/N was in good hands, Bucky went to the sitting room, where his friend, Sam, sat. "Pull out everything you can get on Y/N. Check everything. Social media— I need the name of her ex boyfriend." Sam got to work instantly, not wanting to aggravate the man. Turns out, he didn't have to search for long. "[Name]."

Sam told Bucky everything he could about the man. By the end, Bucky was seething. "Send some men over. Finish him." Again, Sam agreed without argument, rushing out of the room. And so, Bucky waited. He sat in the spacious sitting room all alone, holding his head in his hands, trying his best not to tear up.

---

"Bucky?"

It had been 6 hours since he brought her to his place. He startled and turned around to see Y/N standing at the door, leaning against it for support. This time, he did tear up and not caring about his dignity, he ran forward and pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her neck, sobbing like a little child. "Bucky, I'm fine, I really am," Y/N insisted in vain.

"I almost lost you today," Bucky sniffled, pulling away from her. She wiped his tears off, giving him a small smile. After spending a lot of time with the man, she had come to realize that he was nothing but a big softie, who put on a façade 24/7. He cared about her like no one else. He was so good to her.

And finally, her feelings were justified.

"You didn't lose me, though. I'm right here," she grinned. Her grin made him smile and he took her face in his hands, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Come here." Both of them walked into the room and he pulled her onto his lap, holding her close, thinking if he let go, she would turn to dust right in front of him.

"How bad is the wound?"

"Not that bad, actually, it was a kitchen knife." He moved to trace the wound through her t-shirt when he noticed it. She wasn't in her t-shirt, she was wearing one of his. This time, he didn't fight the urge. "God, I fucking love you so much, doll." Bucky grabbed her chin, pressing his lips to hers. She didn't fight it either.

"I… I love you too, Bucky."

She buried her face in his neck and he held her close, pressing tiny kisses to her cheek and forehead. "You're finally mine, baby girl. Ever since I saw you at the bar, I was smitten. Do you know what a torture it was for me?" he mumbled against her cheek. "Same. I, um…" He chuckled when he felt her skin warming against him.

"I'm going to treat you like the queen you are, baby."

"Aw, so cheesy. But flattering."

"Also, you're fired."

"Great, you ruined it."

"What? I'm the owner, I hire people. And you don't need the job anymore, you have me. I'll pay the university fees. You don't have to work at that horrible bar anymore."

"Bucky, you own the place."

"Still horrible."

"And also what are you, my sugar daddy?"

"Literally fuck off—"

"You know you love me."

"Fortunately, I do."

---

A/N: Thanks for reading. Leave a like if you enjoyed.

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husbandohunter · 3 years

Text

What they love about you (part 2)[Genshin Impact]

Synopsis: It was as if the universe had changed when they saw you.

Characters: Zhongli, Childe, Albedo, Kazuha. Part 1 here

Genre: fluff

"Poetry for my hopeless romantic heart 🥺 and Kazuha, he was the perfect candidate for this. I decided to put Zhongli first of course, he deserves it after saving my ass in Baal's fight."

=================================

Spirit flows through the Immovable rock (Zhongli)

Nations fall, truths be told, iron rusts and earth erode

Through six centuries these were stories he watched unfold.

He sees you and the archon knew that you shall too grow old

But despite it all, he loves you for your existence, as nothing can compare to your intransient soul.

The purpose of contracts were made to ensure there had been a fair trade between two parties. Like merchants striking business deals for a favourable outcome, like mother nature maintaing the balance between life and death, like how you and your beloved said your vows and whispered promises to one another as evening bids farewell by the warm welcome of the moon's gentle glow. Those days were the most treasured that you couldn't help remisicing them-- when Zhongli appeared in your life. Your mortal life. How time can fly so fast.

Perhaps this had been a common notion among human standards. That to be connected, both sides must share the same factors in order to proceed the contract. Clearly your placement proved to be mismatched. Unlike Zhongli there could be a day when your legs gave up and you can no longer walk. He will go on without you, continuing to drift in places where you cannot reach, where time was out of the question, further and further away until the mist begins to seize your field of vision and soon your eyes were too old to see.

The difference in age can truly make someone feel alone and Zhongli knew it well. Thus he smiled softly like he always does and held you close, speaking with so much kindness:

My dearest.

Your soul existed like an evergreen tree blooming through all four seasons, unwithered and everlasting, even against the cold storm of white. And it could be as soft as the sunbeam cascading through the mountain peaks while they dust the land with their ethereal hues and emitting the warmth that breaths absolute serenity. If artifacts were a piece of what someone left behind then maybe everything you made was considered an artifact-- a treasure. A piece of you in those handwritten letters, the beauty in your fingertips after knitting him a scarf which caused scars to mar them, and because of how heavy your spirit weighs through everything you did, it became evident that the one he had fallen for was not your skin nor your body but the person who resides in it.

And sometimes he wonders if he had met you once upon a dream. What else could explain the mysterious feeling that made you seem so familiar, even when he only saw you for the first time? Or perhaps you were an old friend from the long long past, someone he stargazed with upon the infinite mounds of grass and glaze lilies, someone whom he shared the taste of osmanthus wine, someone he came to cherished just like how he cherished his own nation. Regardless, whether you were that someone or not, he wouldn't hesitate to relive those times all over again.

If there was a day when the world around you decided to cave in, where time inevitably caught up and you succumbed to change, he would still be yours. After all, the immovable stone was meant to be the symbol of constancy. He already sworn to you that his devotion and affection will never waver, they were solely held towards your essence for you had touched him through the things he could not touch, and left a mark that would last longer than his ancient self can last. Zhongli may have lived through many lifetimes but meeting you was the beginning of everything. You were a mortal immortalized in the world his heart, etched so deep that it stirs him apart, there was no room for anyone else.

~xx~

Drowning in the ocean flames (Tartaglia)

There was a man who fell deeply in love with war

They raged inside of him like the spontaneous battlefields he came to adore.

Consumed by desire, pain became an addiciton

And he eventually surrenders to the heat of your passion.

While many fear death, Childe learned to dance with it.

He revels in the way his heart pounds endlessly, as if new life had been born from the inside and then bursted like thunder, sending trembling sensations through his veins, bringing him to the peak of euphoria. The feeling was a drug in which Childe hesitates no more when he confronts it, rather he deliberately seeks it. He seeks thrill in the most dangerous situations since they were the moments that made him feel so alive.

Henceforth the Harbinger sought you out. He inches closer and ever so close, those deep cerulean eyes trapped in your hypnotizing ones. Childe loves how you look at him like you were about to devour him, consume him as the flames in hell would, perhaps destroy him completely to the point there was no turning back and yet...he would not mind.

Childe had been so drawn to you like a moth to a light. No. Rather, Adam and the devil, tempting him to sin because the things he would do for you were undeniably impetuous. It was too late. It was too late when you told him you wanted to stay. Too late when you pulled him down, with arms around his neck, stealing away his breath in one swift manner as well as a kiss. Curse you for having so much power over him, from then and there he was no longer the mighty harbinger everyone knew but a man foolish in love. Take him higher. Higher. Take him far. To say you were alluring would be an understatement. The scent of you brings all his senses to disarray and the taste of you-- by the archons-- had never made him feel so starved. All he thought of was mindlessly running his hands over your small back, reveling in the shape of you, exploring every inch and curve in attempt to make you completely his.

This was the reason why he grew accustomed to dancing with death. Because it was you. You were going to be the cause of his downfall and you were the cause of this insanity. Even though you constantly reminded him how risky the situation was due to being a wanted criminal in his homeland's eyes, Childe pays no mind. Didn't he already tell you to trust him? Anyone who threatens you would be an enemy of his, much to their misfortune. Whether it'd be conquering the world and laying it beneath your feet or walking through the depths of the abyss all over again, he'll make sure to have it all and no one can say otherwise.

~xx~

Shelter (Albedo)

Your warmth was his hearth

Like stars falling onto the earth

Gracing the plains in an empereal bliss

As they trembled under the touch of heaven's kiss

Closing his eyes, you are the first person he sees.

The sound of snow chasing the wind fills the silent night once again while it's whispered blows continued to echo just by the cave's entrance. Albedo had planned to take you back to Monstadt that day but Dragonspine was not the place to be merciful with the weather. No one else except the two of you occupied the abandoned space and a singular camp fire to serve as a source of warmth. You place your hand on your lover's forehead, brushing away his ash coloured strands while he seeps into slumber. Albedo sighs contentedly. Despite the world being engulfed in sheer cold, here he felt safe and sound.

Before meeting you Albedo never really had that. People regularly held him on a high regard and had a hard time matching his pace. He was a born genius to the point that he practically stood out like a swan out of the ducklings' crowd as they admired his brilliance. Truly Albedo was a perfect human being. But when turns around to see the rest he noticed how distant everything seemed. He was so focused on his pursuit towards the universal truth that he hadn't given the time to consider; where is he going with this? And what for? Everyone else looked so happy living in their mundane routines and Albedo soon grew curious about such thoughts. Out of all the places in Monstadt, exactly where does he belong?

Opening his eyes, you are the first person he looks for.

"Welcome home, Albedo!"

The answer was obvious. Home was the sound of his name on your lips. When you were side by side with him while he sketched the landscape from the far distance. In places where the lights were on as he entered the room, knowing you were inside. This feeling couldn't be describe with just a word. Home was not a nation nor was it a destination. Home was in your touch where he felt the most protected.

I'm home.

A sky filled with stars and he only saw one; his Starlight. Your warmth held the emotion similar to the kind where there had only been one cande lit amidst an infinite stretch of darkness. But it also brought the joy of flowers blossoming into the vivid future of new spring. There was no place he'd rather be than the shelter of your arms because with you, Albedo believed he truly found where he belonged.

~xx~

Pirr against the Scarlet Leaves (Kazuha)

Silencing the world

My heart begins to find peace

Soothed by your presence

- For my beloved, (Y/n)

I remember how the first petal of spring drifted by as it had flown into the crossroads of our path. Subconciously my entire being began to still. This particular flower... it must have come far and wide for the wind to carry such a pleasant scent. Although I had intended to continue my venture onwards but the air ceased to sound and I knew that this way was true. And so nature beckons me to the shore where the waves lulled back and forth under the moonlight's entrance, only then I began to sharpen my vision to see what was before me. You stood there on a rock with your face looking into the sparkling sky, singing a tune that drew me near. Just the mere sight was enough to stir my heart alone.

My beloved, do you know why I named this poem 'Pirr against the Scarlet Leaves?'

Watching you was like witnessing the ephmereal birth of a flower sprouting amongst the slums of an abandoned nation. A fleeting miracle where snow falls from the summer sky. I am compelled to capture these feelings in this poem yet there are moments where my thoughts scatter as if the autumn wind had whisked them away and out of my grasp until a singular leaf is only what was left. Perhaps it wouldn't be necessary for me to keep a notebook of ways I can describe your presence, instead a few simple sentences would suffice. Nevertheless, I only wish to express my feelings for you.

When you're with me it seems I have nothing to think about. The aura around you can silence the world alone, speaking louder than thunder cries, weighing heavily to those around you in ways it would feel empty if you're not here. Yet I could breath as if alleviated from the burdens of my past. This had me realize that this must have been the will of the wind. You were the greatest gift to have ever bestowed upon me and I confess, sometimes my chest aches because of how much I cherish you, it pierces me like a sharp blade but even if my heart bleeds it will continue to bleed only for your sake.

So wherever you are, wherever you may be, I can feel you in the breeze. Return soon my beloved, I'll be here, waiting.

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sariahsue · 3 years

Text

Jealousy

"If it weren't for that other guy, do you think you would have fallen for me?" "Please, chaton," Marinette said. "Don't do this to yourself." "I just want to know." Softly she said, "It would have been so easy."

***

Marinette leaned into Chat Noir's side as she stared at their abandoned Uno cards (she had won three rounds in a row). They were on the floor in her room, surrounded pink fabric and dim twilight.

"Hey, Bug?"

"Hm?" It was strange, how easily she'd gotten used to him knowing her identity. It had been an accident, but she wouldn't change anything now.

"Can I ask you something?" His voice rumbled through her.

"Aren't you asking something now?" She'd expected a laugh or at least a resigned sigh, but he said nothing. Marinette pushed a wild card with her toe. "Sure."

"If it weren't for that other guy, do you think you would have fallen for me?"

Every point of contact her body had with his seemed suddenly electrified, her head on his shoulder, her arm against his, where her knee brushed his leg, and she shifted away to give herself some breathing space.

Her walls were bare. He'd asked permission to visit her at home, and she'd taken down almost every picture of Adrien. Evidence of her crush on someone else was not something she wanted to push on him every time he came over. He didn't deserve that.

"Um... do you want to play another round of Uno, or should we do something else?"

"Marinette, I'm serious. Would you have?"

Chat Noir wasn't often serious. If he wanted to go down this path, the best she probably could do was make his pain quick.

She shrugged in response. "Maybe, I guess. Video games? I have UMS 4."

"Really, that's it? You guess? That's not a real answer."

"Please, chaton. Don't do this to yourself."

He slid closer, closing the tiny gap between them that she'd opened up. "I just want to know."

Twilight was slipping into full dark as they sat. The streetlamp outside her window blinked on. He wasn't going to back down on this, was he? Fine. As quickly as she could, then.

"You're kind and compassionate. You're reliable. You're funny." Again, she waited for some reaction, a laugh, a self-satisfied "I knew it!" but he only waited for her to finish. "We have such a strong connection, and I trust you with my life. You're brave. You're my best friend." Softly she added, "It would have been so easy. That's the real answer."

The room was quiet enough that she heard how fast his breathing was. They were so close together that she swore she could feel his pounding heart. Or maybe that was hers. Sitting side-by-side made her feel like a coward. It was too easy to avoid his eyes.

How badly had she hurt him?

"So why haven't you talked to him yet?" Chat Noir asked.

"What?"

"If you'd pick him over all that, then you must like him a lot, but you aren't together. And I can't imagine anyone rejecting you, so you must not have asked him out yet."

Maybe she should have added perceptive to the list, but to be fair he'd never been so devastatingly accurate before.

At least this was something they could laugh at together. "I'm... very awkward around him. I'm pretty sure I make him uncomfortable sometimes."

"I doubt it," he said. "So who is he?"

Marinette got up. She suddenly needed some movement. Time to think. More space. "We shouldn't be talking about this."

"Why not?"

"Because I hate this!" Marinette turned to face him for this first time that night. "I hate hurting you every time you bring it up."

He leaned back like he was unconcerned, but he didn't return her gaze. "I'm only curious," he said. "I just want to know what type of person attracts Ladybug. That's all."

"I'll tell you under two conditions."

He stopped studying her mannequin to peek at her from the corner of his eye.

"One, you stop asking about it. Two, you don't laugh at me."

He finally turned to her completely. "Laugh? Why would I laugh?"

Part of her wished that he would. His laugh would be a welcome sound right now.

"Because you're going to think it's a celebrity crush, and it's not."

He raised an eyebrow and gestured for her to continue.

Marinette groaned. Nothing to do about it now except get it over with. "Adrien Agreste."

Chat Noir was on his feet so fast Marinette almost didn't see him move. "Plagg, claws-"

She didn't hear the rest of his sentence over her shrieking "NO!" but did she see the flash of green light behind her eyelids. "What are you doing? Put your suit back on!"

"No."

"I'm not going to look at you."

Where were the kwamis? Why weren't they telling him this was a bad idea?

"You have to retransform." Marinette backed up until she hit her desk. What on earth was he doing?

"No, not until you look."

"You'll have to," she said. "You can't walk out my front door and let people see you. You'll have to leave the way you came in."

"You're just going to keep your eyes closed for the rest of the night?"

She nodded.

Soft footsteps walked toward her. It wasn't the normal tap of boots that she was used to. It sounded wrong. Another reminder that one mistake from her would put his identity in jeopardy. He stopped right in front of her, circled his arms around her loosely and waited. It wasn't until she let herself sink against his chest that he tightened his grip.

"I'm not opening my eyes," she said.

"Then please just listen to my voice," the boy who was Chat Noir said. "I won't tell you my name, but please just listen?"

She nodded, her face buried in his neck. Even if she did open her eyes, she wouldn't be able to see him.

"When I'm not transformed, I'm much quieter."

"A quiet Chat Noir?" Marinette asked. "What must that be like?"

"I don't show off either. I try to avoid attention, actually. I get too much of it."

As he spoke, his voice started to change, matching the quieter, more gentle picture of himself that he painted for her. It sounded like... like...

"Did you know that we know each other outside the masks? We go to the same school."

With each sentence, Marinette began to realize that his voice was achingly familiar. He still sounded like her partner, on days that they were just talking or when they'd share sad stories. But he also sounded like someone else, someone whose voice she'd thought she knew by heart.

He stopped talking, letting her figure out the truth in silence.

She couldn't open her eyes. She couldn't. But her fingers could wander. They found his ungloved hand first, then moved up to his wrists. His forearms were bare, and as she expected, his sleeve had been rolled up above his elbow. Her fingers skimmed his upper arm and across his shoulder to his neck. She found the buttons of an open overshirt with a soft cotton tee underneath. If she wanted to, she could have reached up to touch his hair or trace her fingers over his nose and cheeks and eyelids, everything his mask usually hid. He would have let her.

Instead she leaned into his neck and felt his head drop on top of hers. Marinette finally opened her eyes. The overshirt was white. The tee underneath was black with colored stripes. Exactly how she remembered.

"You're kind and compassionate," he said. "You're brave and creative and amazing."

A tear slipped across her cheek. She was crying. When had that started?

"It was so easy to fall in love with you, Marinette."

Her hands left his shoulders to wrap around him and pull him closer to her. "I love you too, Adrien."

***

A/N: Written for Marichat May 2021. Prompt: Jealousy. @marichatmay

#marichat #marichat may #ml #mlb #miraculous ladybug

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anne-i-write · 3 years

Text

moriarty the patriot headcannons

| requested by anon: can you write headcanons for moriarty brothers meeting and having dinner with s/o's parents for the first time? and s/o's father is overprotective. thanks 🤍🙆🏻 |

william x reader; louis x reader; albert x reader

word count: 1857

tw: mentions of toxic behavior in albert’s hcs

a/n: IM BACK AND THRIVING BBS!!! it’s so good to be back again to writing!!! hhh i’m so sorry if this is far from what you wanted but i hope you all enjoy it nonetheless!!!! lowkey went off the railings w this one so 👀 also if i missed any tags, please let me know!!!!!

william: 803 words

it had been you and your father since you were younger bc your mom was the “lucky” choice of some noble

but you wouldn’t have it any other way

you two are very close and everyone in the town knows

that, and that you both hate nobles

so it’s no surprise when the moriartys move into town, you’re both less than pleased

you always try your best to avoid them whenever they come into your town and your father always begs his friends to take the nobles as customers, despite the fact it could be good for business

but the town you lived in was particularly small and you did end up bumping into william

literally

some stupid man didn’t see you crossing the road and you were nearly crushed by the carriage if it hadn’t been for the hand that pulled at your wrist

“i swear people these days don’t know how to drive carriages.”

you don’t know who you were expecting

BUT ANYONE BUT A NOBLE

“are you alright?”

“i’m fine thank you—“

you’re absolutely flustered

how did i not know that this was a noble??? he smells so clean!

“i’ve got to be on my way now!” and you left william there with no explanation

but lil did you know he actually knew who you were

or to an extent, you weren’t as sneaky as you’d hoped you’d be

he saw you hiding in corners and alleyways every time you two accidentally made eye contact

and some of the townsfolk actually told him a little about you and your father so he understood why you weren’t too welcoming

but to take great lengths to avoid him??? he is very intrigued

so he starts off small, trying to send you a kind smile before you dart off behind a fruit stall

he really tries his best to get close to you and after a few weeks (and a few persuasive friends), he finally gets to hold a conversation with you

and boy does he fall FAST

it takes a while but you finally reciprocate his feelings and he thinks its smooth sailing from there right???

lmao everyone knows your father is literally the most intimidating looking man that could ever walk the earth

if they didn’t know him personally, they would be afraid of getting curb stomped 🤠

i mean,, he’s a big softie but god forbid anyone even DARES to look at you in a romantic light

you warn william of this and he’s like “don’t worry love, it shouldn’t be too bad”

it is bad

even william has cold hands bc your father is giving him the dirtiest look

dinner isn’t even dinner it’s a grill with how much questions your father is asking him

it does NOT help that he’s a noble

“so,,, you’re a noble”

“your cooking is amazing sir”

your father leaves the table for a little bit and you can hear the quiet sigh of relief from william

“i’m sorry for my father”

“no, no,,, i just,,, your father’s really intimidating, isn’t he?”

you let out a chuckle and william relaxed, a soft smile gracing his lips

“he can be, but it’s just something he does.” you threw a wistful gaze at the door your father disappeared before.

“he’s just worried about you, i can see it. he doesn’t want you around people like me.” you grabbed his hand over the table and he gently squeezed your hand.

“if anything, if he’d give you a chance, he’d want me to be with you. noble or not”

you both continue to have a delightful conversation, your sweet laughs filling the room

however, you didn’t know your father was listening in on your conversation and he couldn’t agree more with william

your mother left with more than just a curt goodbye and unshed tears

she left you with a tear stained letter filled with sorrowful regrets and sincere apologies

he knew you would eventually grow up to be critical of the world and if you were to find out that your mother had left unwillingly, he was afraid that you would be too bitter towards the world

but as he hears your laugh and his worries are dulled down a little

he sees you smiling so happily at william and when he chances a glance at the noble beside you, his worries are completely erased

william’s looking at you the same way everyone swore he looked at your mother

it’s a gentle gaze filled with love and kindness, one that he knew could protect you and take care of you

your father hated nobles and hovered over you when it came to love

but he couldn’t help but hold back on questions when he came back and you instantly noticed that your father took a liking william

louis: 508 words

everyone knew you as “Little Noble” in your town

the sole reason being your father literally treating you like a noble lmao

he gave you the best of everything he could afford and tried his best to not let you do any work

tried

of course, you were a little angel and you HAD to help otherwise you’d cry about making someone else tired when you could’ve easily helped

you’ve carried this trait until your early twenties and there were no signs that you would stop

hence why you were bringing home some fresh fruits from the stall clerk before a man bumps into you

you were so caught off guard that your knee buckled and you fell on your butt

everyone was stunned into silence as you fell but louis was so apologetic

so when he helped you back up, he felt the chilling stares of the town burning into his back

and then you apologize for bumping into him when he was the one who bumped into you and you fell??????

“please, let me make you something! i feel so bad!”

he tries to decline but there was this odd pressure to say yes to you

he ends up going home with you

you’re both in front of the door before your father opens it, his eyes wide

“who is this boy?”

“oh, i didn’t get his name on the way here. what is your name?”

your poor father’s heart is pounding way too fast for his liking

“oh! look at that, thank you so much for bringing my child home! you should be going home now”

he tries to shut the door on louis but you hold it open and beckon louis inside

“i invited him here! i accidentally bumped into him earlier so i offered to make him something!”

louis is so awkward pls

your father reluctantly lets him in but gives him a side eye the whole time he’s in the house

“does your child do this often?”

“why? do you find it strange?”

YOUR FATHER IS SO PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE PLEASE SAVE LOUIS

anyways, you finish making your treat and give it to louis, your father glaring at your interaction

louis is still a little stiff but the more you talk to him, his guard is let down a little

soon enough he has to leave and you wish him well

he leaves with a wave and a kind smile and you look over at your father who had been scowling since you appeared at the front door

“he is a bit cute, don’t you think father?”

your father sputters, stunned by your bold claim

“y-you’re still too young to think about men like that!”

you laugh and shut the front door, teasing your poor father about finding love while also wondering if you would meet louis again

as you talk with your father behind closed doors, louis smiles to himself as he thinks about the unusual encounter today

surely, if i met them again tomorrow, it would make for a pleasant day

albert: 546 words

he meets your father before he meets you

it was during a ball your parents organized in order to connect with the more prestigious nobles around you

your parents were obsessed with the way your family was viewed and apparently being an earl wasn’t enough

so albert hears about you when your father boasts about how you’re the perfect child who answered to his every beck and call

in all honesty, albert was disgusted

no one deserved to be brought up like that

he casually makes his way into the conversation and your father is seething

“my child is your age, it’s a shame you act like this, i would have thought of you as a prime husband for them”

who is this earl to tell him what to do?

needless to say your father crosses him off of the guest list for the next ball

days go by and your father doesn’t know that you’re currently in town, doing what you can to help the working class as best as you can

it is on one particular day of visiting an orphanage do you run into the eldest moriarty brother

you two exchange polite greetings and you both pause

“your father is the earl, is he not?”

“you are a general of the army, are you not?”

a brief mention of your father and your mood dulls slightly

“yes, but i’m here on my own accord”

he would kill you if he found out you were amongst the “filth” as he called them

“well, i’ve brought books for the children, would you like to help me read some to them?”

he seemed sincere enough to not want anything more from you, so you agreed

he was actually very pleasant to be around and you find yourself enjoying his company

the meetups continued to happen and soon enough, albert finds himself standing in front of the doors to your family estate

your father is not pleased at all

“it’s nice to meet you again, sir”

“i didn’t forget about what you said to me at our first meeting”

and you’re sitting there like,, ????? they’ve met??? and your father doesn’t like albert???????

of course, inviting albert to your home would have repercussions but you didn’t expect your father to be so hostile

he was always hostile towards other nobles unless they were of higher importance than him

but for him to hate albert so quickly and openly??? this was quite new

you had mentioned that your father has always been one for power so it was clear to albert that you obviously grew up in a home that was more,,, toxic than protective

it was at dinner that this behavior reached its peak and albert despised the atmosphere and the way your father treated you

“i’ve come here to ask for your child’s hand in marriage”

your father rejects the idea without any hesitation

“i refuse to have them live the rest of their life in your household when they could do so much better”

when you invited albert that night, you knew there would be repercussions with your father

but what you didn’t expect was that you would leave your father and adopt the moriarty name as your own, the family welcoming you with open arms

moriarty the patriot taglist: @zoehanji

#moriarty the patriot #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #albert james moriarty x reader #albert james moriarty #william james moriarty #william james moriarty x reader #louis james moriarty #louis james moriarty x reader

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divine-mistake · 3 years

Text

The Cracks in Our Reality (1)

Summary: Loki hates the Executive Manager of the Avengers Tower because she’s too loud and too sarcastic and too kind and too soft, especially to him, who really doesn’t deserve it.

Characters: Loki/Plus-sized (f)Reader

Warnings: 18+ (no smut), language, violence

A/N: Thanks for reading my first ever fanfiction! Updates weekly on Saturday.

Series Masterlist | AO3 | Playlist

The first time he hears her voice, it is shrill and shrieking and about his brother, so of course he hates it.

“Thor’s here?” Loki hears as they walk down the hallway. When he gambles and glances to his side, Thor’s lips are split with the biggest grin Loki’s seen him wear since they touched down in Midgard. Vacantly, he guesses it’s a fangirl who’s waiting for his brother—how typical.

It’s always like this.

And as they approach the room from which the light is bleeding into the hallway, Thor’s fangirl shouts again, “Why didn’t you tell me? Where the hell is he?”

Thor crosses the threshold into Loki’s new world in three long strides. Unlike his brother, Loki sticks to the shadows, only moving close enough to see what is awaiting him past the corner of the corridor. It’s all one big blur of motion, really, as Thor strides through the Avengers Tower and scoops a young woman off her feet, into his arms, and Loki’s reflex is to curl his lip in sneer.

He looks away and ignores the girlish giggles, choosing to survey his new surroundings instead. With one wide sweep of the room, he indexes four familiar faces.

Stark, who's watching his brother and the fangirl, shoulders drawn up and tight in defense.

Rogers, America’s Golden Boy, with his biceps bulging from where his arms are crossed.

Banner. He smiles and Loki feels a mixture of fear and guilt swirl viciously inside him.

And Romanoff, who’s staring right at him, her eyes narrowed, a twitch in her index finger. Evidently she’s not forgiven his sins either. Not that it matters—as quickly as she could pull the handgun strapped to her thigh on him, he could vanish in half that.

There’s only one person Loki can’t catalogue, can’t connect her face to a name, and it’s the fangirl Thor is spinning around the room with, her legs swinging wildly in the air.

She shouts his brother’s name jubilantly, the loudest sound in the room, their laughs mingling together like the sweet and spice of mead.

“My lady!” Thor squeezes her to his body in a tight grip once they stop twirling in place, and then she’s kicking her feet until her polished black heels slide off and hit the floor, fists pounding on his shoulder.

Well, a fangirl surely wouldn’t do that.

“Put me down you big puppy man, you obnoxious God, you are killing me—” The woman is wheezing even as she yells, quite dramatically really, and Loki’s sneer starts to turn into a frown. Who is she to talk to the King of Asgard with such disrespect? As much as Loki loves to see Thor ridiculed, her casual relationship with his brother irritates him more than he anticipated.

Thor drops her onto her bare feet with a delicate softness Loki’s never witnessed before, and the woman settles herself, pulling her dress down and brushing imaginary dust from the fabric, and then she turns up to look at his brother and she wears the most gorgeous smile on her face Loki might ever have witnessed.

“Welcome back to Earth,” she quips, her voice much gentler now, and Loki decides right then and there that he doesn’t just hate her voice.

He hates her.

“It’s good to be back, my lady. Have you been well?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but Stark cuts her off immediately.

“Pleasantries later, ” he says, taking a step toward Loki’s direction. “Reindeer Games is lurking in the shadows over there and it’s making me second guess this whole shebang.”

That’s his cue. Loki slinks out from the corridor and into the light of the common room, and all eyes are on him. He basks in the attention like a cat basks in the sun. This is the first time in a long time he's been on Midgard without chains seizing his hands and feet—his mouth is free of a muzzle and he’s going to use it.

“Stark,” he purrs, but his eyes flit around the room, passing over every single Avenger that’s now standing defensively. “Always a pleasure to be in your presence.”

Vaguely, he’s aware of how the woman has taken to Thor’s side, where his brother is sheltering her under his arm, but he doesn’t break Stark’s stare to look at her. What care does he have for one of Thor’s fangirls anyway?

“You brought your brother here?” she asks, and Loki relishes in the hint of fear hiding itself within the confusion in her voice.

“Did they not tell you?” Thor sounds increasingly worried.

“No,” she hisses, “they did not. What the fuck is going on, Tony?”

Rogers moves closer now, and Loki lends his gaze to the way the super soldier’s hand falls upon the woman’s shoulder, swallowing it. She bristles slightly at his touch and it amuses him for a moment. Maybe she dislikes America’s Golden Boy just as much as he does.

“We meant to tell you, sweetheart,” Rogers says, his voice gentle.

Disgusting. Is she everyone’s fangirl in this cursed tower?

“It slipped my mind after the mission a few nights ago. I’m sorry we didn’t warn you.”

She shrugs Rogers’ hand off her shoulder, but Thor holds onto her tightly. Loki feels like his eyes will burn out of his head from how long he’s been staring, how rigid his body, how much he wants to be anywhere but here right now.

“Are you serious?” Loki isn’t sure he’s seeing the same woman who was just looking at his brother like he was the sun, what with the way she’s glaring at Stark now. “Was I the last to know about this? Is there a room ready for him? Does the press—oh god, the fucking press doesn’t know about him, do they? Tony, I’m going to have to call a press conference. I’m going to have to rebook all the schedules. Are you shitting me?”

Then, she whirls on him, slipping out from beneath Thor’s arm and marching up to him like he isn’t the crazed man who tried to subjugate New York a few years prior. As if he isn’t a God. As if he couldn’t crush her frail body beneath the nail of his smallest finger.

He doesn’t know whether to be impressed or frightened, so Loki settles for the burning hatred that’s been crawling over his skin since he entered the Tower.

She juts out a hip, places her hand on it, and looks straight up at him. “Do you even want to be here?”

No. Of course not.

But no one ever bothers to ask Loki what he wants, and now this puny Midgardian has done so within the first five minutes of even knowing him, and he doesn’t even know her name but there is so much heat searing through him and he hates her.

She isn’t much, really. She’s small in stature, her head barely grazing his brother’s shoulders, forcing her to crane her neck as she addresses Loki. If she were to kneel at his feet now, she’d be the perfect height for him to take his pleasure. He quickly rips the thought away and throws it to the fire growing in his veins.

But she is curvy, that much is sure. She is much thicker than the slim Midgardian women he’s seen on his journeys here, much softer than the Asgardian warriors who are built with muscle alone. Loki can’t keep staring at her, he can’t. Her eyes are narrowed, but bright in the lighting of the common room. Her lips, painted a brilliant shade of red, are twisted into some sort of puckered frown that makes him wonder how well she’d fare when he played tricks on her.

He scoffs at her, rolling his eyes and looking away, because Norns, what is he supposed to say?

The truth?

“Banner, why don’t you walk Rabbit to her room?” Stark calls, and when Loki looks back at him, they’re locked in another stare. Loki feels a wave of something new, something bordering on shame, something that has him grasping for a scepter not in his hand and eyeing the bright blue beam of light in Stark’s chest. He still remembers what it felt like, that day he invaded New York.

It doesn’t feel good to remember, so like with all things, he pushes it to the back of his mind and replaces it with a smirk.

“What?” The woman—Rabbit, her name, perhaps—turns her glare on Stark once again. “You can’t just drop an Asgardian in the middle of my living room, ruin all my carefully crafted schedules for the next month and a half, and then tell me to go to my room like a child!”

“Run along now, little girl,” Loki mocks, and when she recoils at his words and takes a step back like she’s shocked, the heat that’s been building in his blood is suddenly ice. Her face is different now, brows drawn in anger, and her whole body stiffens and Loki feels like he does when he changes back into his native form.

Until she draws up a finger at him, storming toward him, ire flashing in her eyes with every step she takes, and Loki is alive again. His tongue is sharp, ready to meet her shrill demands, but Thor reaches out and grabs her with one sweep of his arm. She’s tugged back into his brother’s grasp, held closely to the broad expanse of Thor’s chest, and Loki stamps out his rising excitement. His brother ruins everything.

“My lady,” Thor says, “my brother lacks tact around pretty women, but he is harmless, I assure you.”

Loki lets his eyes drag from the top of her head down to the tips of her bare toes, still twisting against the floor as if she’s trying to break away from Thor’s hold, their lacquer catching the shine of the light. She painted them pink. Loki doesn’t think she’s all that pretty—he’s seen better in Midgard alone.

But then she mumbles something under her breath that sounds wickedly similar to “He’ll be harmless once I maim him with my shoe,” and Loki has to swallow back the laugh threatening at his lips.

The woman rips herself out of Thor’s grasp, shoving him away. Comically, Thor pretends as though her strength is enough to move him, feigning a stumble backward. Then, she picks up her heels from where they dropped to the floor and slips them onto her feet, and suddenly Loki could press his nose into the top of her head at this height.

“C’mon then, Bruce.” Without looking, she begins to stride toward the hallway, brushing past Loki. “We’ll let the boys pretend they have their shit under control.”

As she speaks, her eyes cut back to Loki, gaze burning. He isn’t sure a woman has ever looked at him with this much contempt before and gotten away with it. Banner quickly follows her and Loki listens to the rhythmic click of her heels all the way down the corridor until the elevator dings, and then she’s gone for good.

Her scent, floral and clean, clings to his nose for the rest of the night. He hates it.

“They call it community service here in Midgard!” Thor says, beaming. Loki wants to tear his brother's lips from his face, to burn that smile off his visage.

“You say that as if I should be proud,” Loki snarls back.

His room in the Tower is quaint. It’s more than Stark should offer him, that’s for sure, but Loki guesses it’s only more than a prison cell for the sole reason that it’s connected to Thor’s apartment and they don’t want the brothers to be separated. At the very least, it’s furnished. The bed is soft and big enough to share with a partner. He has a bathroom en suite. A walk-in closet to fill with clothes he doesn’t own.

Loki doesn’t own anything. Not even himself, now that he’s doing this community service on a planet he’s tried to conquer. Community service as a probationary Avenger in the stead of eternal damnation.

Thor only claps him on the back. “‘Tis better than serving a jail sentence, is it not?”

He raises a brow. “As if it isn’t imprisonment itself.”

“You should be thankful, Loki. Stark has been very cooperative with allowing you to stay here as an Avenger—”

“As a prisoner,” he interjects.

“—without threat of cells or cages or even chains.”

“And yet I am not allowed to leave the Tower.”

Thor frowns. “You tried to subjugate New York.”

Loki peruses this for a moment. He could say anything, but would it ever matter? It isn’t as if Thor’s ever understood. He didn’t understand when Loki let go and fell from the Bifrost and he sure didn’t understand when Thanos forced Loki to destroy New York. He never understands.

So instead of saying anything, Loki rolls his eyes, stalks into his room, and slams the door shut. He hopes it’ll make Thor finally leave him alone.

But Thor just stands on the other side of the door, shouting through the wood.

“This is your chance, brother. This is your chance at redemption. Do not let it go lightly, and I beg you, do not screw it up.”

Redemption—what a joke. If Odin taught Loki anything, it was that there was never going to be any redemption for him. He was lost. Irredeemable. A cold monster in the warm skin of an Asgardian. A snake who spoke in tongues, in lies and misery. Loki was nothing more than a puppet who didn’t see how his strings connected him to his master.

Loki waits until he hears Thor stomp away, until he hears the slam of the door across from his own, before he conjures an image of his mother in the palm of his hand.

He doesn’t know how long he spends looking at her, a vision spread against his fingers. The only sign that she isn’t real is the shimmering edges of Loki’s illusion. Once upon a time, when there was so much blood and sweat and tears running into his eyes, he wasn’t able to tell what was real and what was magic. Illusory images are only illusory to those of a sound mind—something Loki hasn’t always been.

Even he, the God of Lies, has a reality that can be broken. A truth that can be muddled by pain and fear until it shows what he wishes, what he would beg, the truth to look like.

A knock at the door almost sends him into a panic, flashes of the monster who haunts his nightmares creating new colors behind the back of his eyes. The illusion of Frigga dissipates into the air. Loki throws himself to his feet, flies from his bed to the door in a handful of steps, anger like a hot knife through the parts of his brain the terror hasn’t yet eaten through.

“Leave me be!” he roars at Thor from this side of the door. His hand twitches to conjure a dagger. If he opened the door, would the Mad Titan be on the other side? No. It’s only Thor. The Mad Titan is dead.

But Loki never saw him die—how can he be sure he is truly gone?

He cannot. His reality has been bent and broken and shattered a thousand times by the Mad Titan and Loki cannot remember what is real and what is false anymore.

With a dagger in hand, Loki throws the door open, prepared to see anything—Thor, Thanos, the father he slaughtered without a thought—and yet he is still surprised by what he sees standing just outside his room.

The dagger disappears from his white-knuckled grip. The Midgardian woman’s eyes are wide, like moons, the depth of color in her irises the crevices and craters. She takes a step back and Loki sees her hands trembling.

His lips part to apologize. Pride seizes in his chest and he closes his mouth. His breathing is labored, chest heavy with the rise and fall of every tight contracting of his lungs. She’s holding something in her arms. A tray is set beside her on the floor, a few scattered plates of Midgardian food sitting atop it.

The silence between them is deafening.

In a moment all too soon, her eyes narrow into slits and she rolls her shoulders back, straightening her spine and drawing up to her full height. Loki reminds himself that he can crush her. He could kill her with one strike of his boot. She is nothing, and the ice that is making a slow crawl up every disc in his back isn’t guilt, it’s caution.

How dare a mortal as small as she look at him like that? He is the Prince of Asgard, the Rightful King of—

“Fuck you,” she spits, and it’s Loki’s turn to recoil. Instantly, the edges of his vision turn red and he hopes, shamefully, that his eyes are flashing the same dreadful, savage color as a means to scare her into submission.

His nostrils flare with his indignation. “How dare you—” he starts, but she throws whatever she had been holding at his chest and Loki instinctively grabs it. It’s soft against his cold hands.

“I thought you might be hungry,” she hisses, venom dripping from every word. “I thought you might need some extra fucking blankets. Excuse me for being nice, Your Highness.”

The way the word rolls off her tongue makes his fingers tighten in the downy fabric she’s given him. He should feel good. In fact, he tips his chin upward to look down upon her from the slope of his nose. But he doesn’t feel good.

“I don’t need anything from you, little girl,” he sneers. “I have no business with you.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, jutting out that damn hip again.

“Actually, you’ll have much more business with me from now on, Your Highness.” With a grace he wasn’t sure she had, she draws up a hand to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, eyes never leaving his. “I’m the Executive Manager of the Avengers Tower. You’ll be seeing much more of me, and unfortunately, I’ll be seeing much more of you.”

Loki scoffs. “A mortal such as yourself could hardly provide me with anything satisfactory.”

He glances, almost imperceptibly, at the dinner tray she’s brought up to him. Loki swallows a lump in his throat.

She shrugs. “Whatever. You can be an asshole if you want. I’ll still do my job whether you like it or not because I’m a professional and I’m damn good at what I do.”

Her eyes flash with something dangerous, and then she’s taken two steps forward and is craning her neck up to look at him, on her tiptoes in an attempt to match his height. Her pointer finger is just below his chin.

It brings him an exhilaration he hasn’t felt in centuries, a thrill trembling through his nerves.

“But if you ever draw a knife on me again, you’ll regret it.”

He laughs, flashing her a predatory grin, but she doesn’t back down.

“I sincerely doubt that,” he says, his tone mocking.

Her lips peel back to reveal a set of pearly teeth, and though her mouth softens, her eyes are as sharp as the blade of his dagger.

“I do the bidding of every Avenger in this tower,” she tells him. “You, included. Every single person in this entire building owes me a favor. I’m not beneath calling on every one of them to knock you down a peg, Your Highness.”

Loki watches as she lowers herself back down, rolling off the balls of her feet. He’s gripping the door frame so hard he can feel the wood giving beneath his fingers. There is something so vexatious about this woman that he can’t discern.

“If you need anything, you can ask FRIDAY to let me know. You can call me Rabbit—it’s what everyone else here calls me, and Tony’s annoyingly programmed the AI to call me that, too. Enjoy your lonesome night, Your Highness.”

She turns on her heel before he has a chance to reply, strutting out of his apartment and disappearing around a corner. He hears the quiet ding of the elevator, just as he did earlier, signaling her departure.

Loki looks down at the tray of food she’s left behind. With one angry breath, a wave of magic bursts forth from his body, sending the plates crashing against the walls of the apartment. Food smears down every surface. Ceramic and glass mingle in shattered pieces. It’s immature. It’s childish. He knows this, but he can’t stop himself. Fury pulses at his fingertips, hot like the burn of ice.

He hates her.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @poetic-fiasco @suffocatinglypositive @melancholic-metanoia

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki love #avengers loki #plus size reader #redemption loki #loki fanfic #the cracks in our reality #loki pov #loki series #thanks for supporting me!

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opalesense · 3 years

Text

hopelessly devoted

zhongli & gn!reader

1.3k words • ~10 min. read

summary: in an effort to earn more money, zhongli had sacrificed much of his personal time to go to work for weeks and frankly, you were getting very tired of the solitude. in a blur of emotion, you decide to confront him about it.

warnings: slight mention of cheating, lil bit of angst but i promise it gets better

notes: yes the title is based off of the song and what about it?? also formatting is so annoying oh my godjfjf

DAYS IN LIYUE WERE INEXPLICABLY BORING as of late. It seemed like every day consisted of waking up, eating, occupying myself with small and seemingly meaningless tasks, then sleeping and doing it all over again. Life was usually much more entertaining and enjoyable with Zhongli, but for the past few weeks, he had been busy nonstop with work at the funeral parlor. He would wake up early and come home so late that our usual afternoon strolls, dinner dates, and cuddle sessions were practically nonexistent now. I could tell he was exhausted of working these extra hours and I even urged him to take it easy, but he insisted that he had to keep working.

"[Y/N]," he had told me weeks ago before taking up the extra hours, "I will not allow this opportunity to slip away. Imagine all the lavish robes, divine meals, and antiques that you can possibly dream of being within your reach at all times. It is rare for the parlor to strike such an extravagant deal with the Guild. So a few weeks of extra work for a lifetime of luxury... is that not a life that you wish for us to have?"

"I just don't understand how those kinds of riches can possibly come from the Guild,” I sighed, "Are you sure you really can't tell me the details of this?"

"Have patience, my love," he leaned down to kiss my forehead, "It will all make sense in due time."

For the past six weeks, it never made sense. Instead, each day seemed to get lonelier and lonelier, the hours and weeks blending together and becoming mere fuzzy memories. I often wondered when it would all start to make sense. I was tired of the world feeling so empty and bland without the spark of joy in my life constantly being away from home and ignoring my pleads for him to take a break.

“It breaks my heart to see you like this, dear," Zhongli returned home in the extremely early hours of the morning and caught me staring out the window, watching the stars sparkle in the night sky. "Why do you insist on waiting for me to get home instead of getting the rest you deserve?"

“The rest I deserve?" I sighed. I didn't bother turning to face him. "Zhongli, how about the rest you deserve? How long does this have to continue? I truly haven't felt this lonely in my entire life."

Zhongli's exasperation oozed into his low, resonant voice. "Just a little while longer, my love."

“You say that every week."

“And I mean it this time," his figure appeared from the corner of my eye and slumped down in the vacant space next to me on the bed. "The deal is finally coming to a close."

"Deal?" my eyebrows raised at this sudden new information as he had kept me in the dark this entire time, "Don’t lie to me. I thought the entire reason you were working was because of the deal with the Guild."

“I fear that I have said too much," his face instantly turned into one of regret. He lifted a hand up to massage his temple. "Please do not fret, dearest. You do not need to worry about anything."

"Zhongli, I really need you to stop hiding things from me," I felt tears slowly surface without warning, "You have no idea how much it hurts to be left here all alone without knowing what you're doing.”

He was uncharacteristically silent, just sitting there with his eyes closed, massaging his forehead. He let out a deep sigh, clearly tired. I felt bad for confronting him now, but it was now or never.

“Please tell me... is there someone else? Is that it? Am I not good enough that you have to use work as an excuse not to see me? If you are then I wish you could just tell me the truth instead of tugging me along on a stri-“

He suddenly cut me off by connecting his lips with mine. He kissed me slowly, reaching his gloved hand to my face and caressing his thumb over my cheek. My eyes fluttered shut at his touch, savoring the rare moments that we were both awake at the same time to share a kiss. He kissed me deeply, gently, and lovingly. I was so deprived of him that it made my heart ache to finally taste his lips again. Or maybe the heartache was from the thought of him using those same, soft lips to kiss someone else.

Maybe I was wrong. I surely hoped I was wrong.

“You are the love of my life, [Y/N]. If there are any doubts of my loyalty to you, let go of them immediately. There is no one else other than you and me. I only dedicate myself to strenuous work for our future to be prosperous. I am doing this for us, and us alone.”

Tears travelled down my cheek as he slowly pulled his face away a few inches. Tracing his thumb over my bottom lip, I stared at the way the moonlight highlighted his stoic expression. His exhaustion split my heart apart. This entire situation split me apart.

“Please forgive me when I say my work is confidential. Though, I assure you I am not keeping any significant secrets from you. I deeply hope you understand.”

I dipped my head down in disappointment just for him to lift my chin up with a gentle grip. He stared into my eyes for a moment before speaking again.

"What can I do to distract you from your solitude, dear?" he gently whispered then began planting small kisses around my face. “You are my priority. I will take care of whatever it is you want from me.”

"Then take a break for one day," I watched as he initially sighed in instant rejection, "Fine, then half a day. Please, Zhongli – half a day. You could go to work then come back home early. Just please... I can’t be alone anymore. I can’t take it.”

He thought for a moment, his amber eyes piercing through mine. The silence made more tears run down my face, which he responded to by planting more small kisses on my fragile, trembling lips.

"If half a day will not fully satisfy you, I will call off my entire day tomorrow.”

“Zhongli, I said half a day would be fine-“

“You deserve more than just ‘fine,’” he politely interrupted. “It has already been decided.”

I softly chuckled in relief and gently buried my head into his neck, his arms immediately pulling me into a warm embrace to seal the space between us.

He planted several soft kisses on my head, his fingers caressing my back. I glanced at his face for a moment to see that a tear had rolled down his cheek as well. A sob escaped my throat as I watched the face of a calm and collected man attempt to hold back tears, but failing. The strong façade he always managed to uphold was now broken in front of me.

We didn’t need words to communicate our shared stress and yearning for each other. So we sat in there in silence, bathing in the moonlight as quiet tears stained our collars. His melancholic eyes and tensed jawline shot arrows through my heart.

It hurt when I couldn’t see him for weeks. It hurt even more when I could see he was in the same amount of pain I was in. It was silly to accuse him of treating me poorly when all he wanted to do was guarantee our happiness together.

My heart sunk into the earth’s core. And that’s when he broke the silence once more.

“Never doubt my dedication to you, my love. There is, and never will be, anything that will change how much I love you. I love you more than I can put into words. Please remember that no matter how long we are apart, I promise I will love and cherish you, and only you, even beyond our final moments together. And that is a promise I intend to keep forever.”

#zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #mine #boom #genshin impact x reader

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starglow-xx · 3 years

Text

retrouvaille

nakajima atsushi x f!reader

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: hurt comfort, fluff

warning! : mentions of abuse

type of work: one-shot

synopsis: he left the orphanage, and that meant he had to leave you too; fortunately, this time, it seems like the universe was on your side

a/n: this is kinda self indulgent bc ive been feeling kinda down lately...?? and this has been sitting in my drafts for a while now and i havent posted in a while so killing three birds w/ one stone ig

the word retrouvaille is a french noun...

The moment you stepped foot into the armed detective agency, heterochromia eyes met your (e/c) ones.

You notice several agents talking and walking over to assist you, but you drown them out only having focus on the gray haired male ten feet away from you.

Said male takes a small step forward with uncertainty and disbelief laced in his voice.

“(y-y/n)...?”

At the sound of your name, your eyes immediately begin to water and with pure relief in your voice, you softly sob his name; the name of the boy who comforted you when you were both still in that wretched place.

“Atsushi...”

With all hesitation gone, Atsushi runs over to you shoving through his surprised and confused coworkers and wraps his arms tightly around you.

The force of the hug causes the both of you to stumble and harshly crash to the ground beneath you.

But the two of you didn’t care.

In his arms was a person Atsushi thought he’d never be able to see again.

In his arms was the same girl who snuck him food from the kitchens, the girl who stole medical supplies from the infirmary to treat his wounds, to take care of him when he was sick, and the girl who received punishment after punishment for insisting on staying with him inside his damn cell.

You gave him happiness in place where he should’ve never been able to receive it.

As if he ever felt like he deserved it in the first place.

You’re too good for him, but yet you still chose him.

You, his sweet and kind, his so very kind, and so very beautiful girlfriend, chose him, the cursed, good for nothing orphan.

The orphanage staff treated you considerably better before the two of you were acquainted, so Atsushi knew he was the problem. That he was the reason why tears would fall onto your beautiful face, why bruises and scars would litter your arms and legs, and why the staff would call you awful, degrading nicknames about you and or your virtue.

He had always thought that he wasn’t good for you, that he didn’t deserve you, that you could do better, but you stayed by his side regardless of his fears and insecurities, and provided him the strength and comfort he had always been deprived of.

And to his very surprise, he found that you found your own strength and comfort in him.

So he knew that you must of cried for weeks after he was kicked out, that you must’ve been devastated to wake up one morning only to learn that he was gone without a trace.

There wasn’t a single day that he never thought of you.

Atsushi wanted to go back for you, he really did; he wanted to storm into the orphanage with members of the armed detective agency, his new family, right at his tail before eventually reuniting with you.

But he didn’t do that.

Ultimately, he chose to leave you out of the mess that came with his job knowing that you would be eventually targeted and used against him if anyone found out about what he had with you.

So he kept quiet.

No mafioso, government agent, foreign organization, nor agency member had a clue about your connection with him, much less your existence.

He told himself that when things have calmed down by a considerable amount, he would go back and get you, with or without the agency backing him up.

Unfortunately, he knew that time of peace was far from the present.

But to see you, in your beautiful glory, standing at the threshold of the agency?

His original plan to keep you away from Yokohoma flew out the damn window.

At the sight of you, his heart did backflips and his legs almost gave out.

Ignoring the jelly feeling in his legs and the loud pounding of his heart, he raced around the desks and his coworkers—nearly fully crashing into Dazai in the process—to once more engulf you into his arms.

As for you?

When you saw him, you felt like you were going to pass out.

Your legs grew weak, your entire body was shaking, and tears started to fall down your face.

He was here.

He was safe and he was alive.

You mourned his abrupt disappearance from the orphanage and spent most of your time worrying about his well being.

The staff thought you were pathetic, that you sulked and cried over someone who they thought should disappear off the face of the earth.

They could insult and beat you all you want, but you drew the line when it came to Atsushi.

Finally having enough of everything, you planned your escape.

You were patient; you never jumped the gun nor gave anything away. You planned everything to the very last, minute detail, and after a few more months of abuse and waiting, you put your plan into action and left in the dead of night.

Thankfully, a kind old couple took you after you had collapsed in the streets. You worked job after job after job to return everything they had spent on your behalf even after they had told you not to worry about it.

And after another few weeks, you finally caught wind of your lost boyfriend tracking him down to Yokohoma through an old newspaper article.

Knowing your boyfriend, and yourself, you knew that tears would easily escape both of your eyes due to the long duration of your separation, but you weren’t expecting to find yourself crashing onto the floors of the armed detective agency curtesy of Atsushi.

But, you wouldn’t have it any other way because in your arms was the boy who gave you comfort during the most darkest days in the orphanage, the boy who laid you in his lap or on his stomach stroking your hair so you would fall asleep, and the boy who often threw himself in front of you so you would remain unharmed.

You choked on your sobs as you tightened your own hold on him and they gradually grew louder as you buried your face into the shoulder of his white button up.

Through his own choked sobs and teary eyes, Atsushi gently maneuvered the two of you so that you would be lying on his stomach—a familiar position the two of you would lay in back in the orphanage.

He gently stroked his fingers through your hair and softly rubbed your back as he whispered the familiar sweet nothings into your ears.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

“I’m okay, you’re okay, we’re okay...”

“I’m here, just let it all out..”

Overwhelmed with your emotions, his sweet words only started to make you cry more.

You’ve missed him so much.

Your tears easily soaked his both his shirt and his neck, and you tried to speak only for you to choke up. Atsushi simply just started to shush you—as you would to a baby—and placed a kiss to your forehead as he continued to comfortingly stroke your hair and rub your back.

With the both of you off into your own little world, a world consisting only of the two of you, reactions and looks from the Armed Detective Agency went unnoticed.

It didn’t take long for them to realize the kind of relationship you and Atsushi had.

But what surprised them was Atsushi’s behavior.

The young adult they knew tended to be unsure of everything, including himself, and stammered whenever he was nervous.

But the young adult currently in front of them had this new aura of maturity; he didn’t hesitate to touch you or to comfort you, and for the first time they’ve seen in a while, he was sure of himself; he wasn’t nervous at all.

With the amount of comfortability Atsushi had around you, and the tender, loving care he showered you in, it was clear that you certainly were someone special to their tiger.

Your sobs slowly turned to small hiccups, and Atsushi’s face turned to one of pure tranquility and content, having his lover back in his arms.

Although having calmed down, what Atsushi said to you next made you want to start bawling all over again.

“I’m sorry I left you, and I promise I didn’t forget about you,” he whispered softly, “I thought of you every day. I still do. The thought of being able to see you again is what kept me going.”

You buried yourself further into his shoulder as you gripped his white button up in your hands.

“And thanks to the armed detective agency, I’m stronger now. I won’t let anybody hurt you, not anymore. That, I promise you.”

Actually taking a look up from you, Atsushi ended up locking eyes with Dazai, who had a gentle look on his face.

His senior only closed his eyes, tilted his head down softly, and lightly chuckled before opening his brown eyes once more, giving Atsushi a look of approval.

The gray haired teen’s eyes widened slightly as he looked around the room only to be met with similar looks of approval and gentleness from his seniors and coworkers.

He felt his eyes tear up again, but instead let out a relieved sigh as he tightened his hold on you slightly.

“Hey Atsushi...” you softly murmured.

Equally as soft, he answered, “Yes (y/n)?”

“...I love you...”

Your lover smiled before placing another kiss onto your forehead.

“I love you too (y/n)”

At last, the girl he loved was back in his arms, and the boy you loved was back within your reach.

And neither of you were ever going to let each other go again.

and it means, the joy of meeting or finding someone again after a long separation, a rediscovery

as always, reblogs and shares are appreciated! i hope you all stay safe! and just in case nobody told you they loved you today, i love you! you are enough! <3

writing belongs to me! please do not plagiarize! the reblog button is there for a reason

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overly-b · 4 years

Text

Say It Again - JJ Maybank

In which JJ questions if he is deserving of you and your love.

Warnings: swearing, sad JJ, fluff, awful editing don’t come for me

Word Count: 3.5k(whoops)

Author's note: this is my first time writing in so long, be gentle with me friends. I know that a lot of people have done similar prompts of JJ feeling undeserving of love and the reader helps him through it, so this is a little bit unoriginal but, this is my take on it.

Bold italics is a flash back.

Thank you to @maybe-maybanks to the late night inspiration!

not my gif

As you, Kie and Pope approached the yard of the chateau, it became undeniably clear that JJ had gone off the rails with extravagant spending since you had seen him last.

“What did you do JJ?” Pope questions the boy sitting in the hot tub. Looking at you through his sunglasses, he smirks.

“I got a jet going straight in my butt right now” He ignores Pope. “Y’all, should get in here immediately, you hear me?” His sentence slurs slightly. “Salud!” He toasts his plastic champagne flute in the air, but opts to take a swig from the bottle in his other hand.

JJ scans the faces of his three friends, eyes lingering at yours a moment longer than Kie and Popes.

You see, just days ago, after getting arrested, then beaten by his father, JJ found you, and poured his heart out, to find that you shared his feelings, and the two of you started seeing each other in secret.

Being that it was a secret, the two of you had yet to put any kind of label on it, but you loved that blonde boy to the ends of the earth, despite what had happened earlier that day.

“You know what, that's exactly what I’m gonna do. Go off, by myself.”

You watched as JJ began walking away. Pope attempted to stop him, but Sarah and John B had halted his efforts. You stood silently fuming at the actions of the boy you had such strong feelings for. How could he be doing something like this? This wasn’t the JJ you knew, had been friends with for years, and were now in love with. Though if you were being honest with yourself, you had loved him for years prior.

“JJ!” You seethed, shaking off John B’s attempts to hold you back from running after him. He was already a good distance away from the group, he probably couldn’t even hear you yelling, so you started speed walking. It soon became apparent that he was simply ignoring you.

“JJ!” You were merely twenty feet from him, screaming at his back. “JJ stop!” His strides continued.

“You were real quiet back there princess, finally decide to comment?” You stepped in front of him, shoving his shoulders to force his walk to a stop. “What the fuck Y/N!”

“What the fuck me? What the fuck you! What has gotten into you right now JJ what are you doing?”

“Nothing has gotten into me Y/N I’m simply paying back what I owe.” He states, trying to walk past you.

“By stealing the money from the drug dealer that just jumped us?” Your brows raise as you interrogate him.

“He jumped us, he has this coming.” He nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders, succeeding in getting past you, as you stand shocked by his words.

“JJ you and I both know that you’re not that goddamned stupid.” His steps slow, he stands still. “Stealing money from a drug dealer? JJ I know that you owe money because of Pope but this isn’t right! You’re better than this-”

“Am I?” He turns on his heels to face you again, this time squaring his shoulders to be purposeful in standing tall over you. Him standing over you made you feel small in comparison to the raging blond. “Am I better than this?” He repeats his question.

“JJ what are you-”

“Because I’m starting to think that you, and your high standards, and your perfect life, only think that I am better than this because you want me to be better than this.”

You knew what he was referring to. You were by no means a kook, but your family was financially stable enough to afford a nice house, you had your own car, and if you wanted, you could afford to go to college on the mainland. Your life was unlike most lives on the cut, but JJ knew that your life was far from perfect.

“What the hell-”

“And that if we’re gonna be together, you need me to be better than this so that I can fit in with your life.” You had no idea what he meant. Your life was on the cut, with the Pouges, with him, and the difference of financial well beings of your familys never changed that before, so why was it now?

“What the fuck JJ stop-”

“Well you know what Y/N! I’m not better than this, this is who I am! I get into fights, I steal, I have a criminal record, when I get hit, I hit back this is who I am!”

“We both know that stealing twenty five thousand dollars from a drug dealer is never going to make anything better.” You attempt to reason with him. “This isn’t hitting back this is loading the gun that's already in your face!”

“Y/N I have to!” He spits. “I know you could never understand being in so much debt but this is my only option.” His words hit you like a punch to the stomach. He looks down to his boots before continuing. “So I’m sorry that I’m not what you pictured as a boyfriend, but this is what I do Y/N. Maybe you trying to fight it means you deserve better than me.”

And just like that, it was clear that he was more mad with himself then he was with you. However, everything that he said was uncalled for, and nasty, and he had no right. You watch as he storms away, even more tense than before, and you couldn’t help but wonder how this affects your newfound relationship. You blink away the water from your eyes, and do your best to compose yourself as you slowly wander back to your friends.

“How much did this cost?” Pope asks. Your head was spinning as he listed all of the things that he had purchased since he left you standing in the woods.

“Uh, well. With the generator, the petrol, and, oh, hey, express delivery,” You knew the answer before he even had time to speak. “Pretty much all of it, yeah.”

“All of it?” Pope exclaims.

“Oh my god” You whisper, mostly to yourself, rubbing your forehead with your palm.

“Yeah all of it.”

“You spent all the money in one day?” “Yeah burned a hole right through my pocket.” He confidently explains. “But, I mean like come on guys, look at this!” The tone in his voice told you that he was holding back, it was alway his biggest tell when he would hold back his feelings. “Finest in jet based massage therapy, that's what they told me.”

The three of you are left speechless.

“Kie what? Can’t a man have a little luxury in life?” JJ still could not bring himself to look you in the eyes for more than a moment. “Come on, all this scrimping’ and scraping’” you notice his voice falter again. “I mean like, guys, we, you only live once. Right?” JJ finally locks eyes with you, and he reacts spastically, your dreaded look having the gravest effect on him.

“Y/N, stop, why are you looking at me like that?” He knew full well, but he was trying too hard not to show it. “I know that you’re mad about earlier okay, but, everything is fine now!” His voice was louder now, concealing the breakdown you knew was coming, sooner or later, here with the three of you or somewhere else. “Enough of this emotional shit. Get in the Cat’s Ass come on.” He smiles, waving you to join him.

“The what?” Kie furrows her brows.

“The Cat’s Ass.” JJ smugly replies, proud of himself. “That's what I named her. Oh hey yo, I almost forgot,” JJ leans forward, pressing a button that makes water spray across the tub, and even more colorful lights flash in front of him. “Huh! Yeah that's right, disco mode, thats right baby!” His eyes scan yours, noticing that they were clouding with tears. He quickly looks away from you, not wanting to see the damage that he had done, and was still doing.

“JJ,” Your voice is low and hushed as you blink back tears.

“Are you kidding me?” Popes harsh voice overpowers yours, cutting off you and your tears. “You could have paid for restitution!”

“Or literally given it to any charity” Kie fumes at the sight before her.

“Guys,” You mutter, wanting them to stop being so hard on the broken boy you secretly called yours. You were mad too, if not more than Pope and Kie due to your argument. However, you could see straight through the smug grins and happy fasad that JJ was trying to project. He was hurting, and you knew it wasn’t just about the fight the two of you shared.

“Or better yet, you could have helped us buy supplies to get the rest of the gold out of the well!”

“Guys!” You spoke up louder this time, only to be cut off by JJ.

“Okay well you know I didn’t do that!” As JJ’s swimsuit clad body surfaces from the hot water, you are confronted with what you knew would be there, and the tears pour from your eyes. “I got a hot tub!” JJ shakes in what appears to be anger, but you know it isn't anger he's reeling from. “For my friends,”

Kie and Pope gape at JJ’s bruised abdomen and instantly connect the dots as to who is responsible.

“I bought a hot tub for my friends.” He repeats. “You know what, no, you know what, screw friends. I got a hot tub for my family.”

“JJ what the hell-” Kie gasps.

“I got this for you! Guys look what I did for you! Alright?” JJ spins and gestures to everything he bought. “Look at this!” When he turns back, he finds that you were no longer holding back the tears your eyes once held.

“Y/N stop being emotional don’t, don’t cry okay? I know that I hurt you before,” His voice fails him as he recalls the words that he said to you. “But I did this for you,” He hangs his head, he knows how bad he fucked up, and it was hitting him all at once that this was not the way that he needed to make things right. This was not the way back to you, and the high of his twenty five thousand dollar spending spree was dissapating at his realisation, and at the sight of you before him.

“I mean, it’s sweet right?” JJ hadn't even realized that as he began talking, you had climbed into the hot tub. He looks into your eyes for a moment as you stand before him, and lets out a sob as you gently wrap your arms around him. His forehead falls to your shoulder, and all of his pent up energy released in the form of tears and heaves.

“I’m sorry. Baby I’m so sorry.” He whimpers to you, only for you to shush him tenderly. Kie and Pope share a confused glance at the nickname. “I couldn’t do it.” You rub his hair and hold him close as he convulses. “I can’t take it anymore!” JJ wails, your tears land on his shoulders, and his tears land on yours. “I was gonna kill him!”

Kie is next to join you, jumping into the steaming water and embracing the both of you. Pope follows.

“I just want to do the right thing.”

“Shh, JJ, I know. I know” You coo him, trying to calm his weeping.

After minutes of holding him, Kie announces that she has to head home, and Pope offers to drive her. JJ rests in a nearly catatonic state in your arms, no doubt exhausted and knowing JJ, not ready to face the fact that he just broke down in front of his friends.

The pair leaves bidding reassuring words to JJ, and a few more hugs.

You are left in the hot tub, holding the blond boy as he clutches onto you. He wasn’t crying anymore, but his breaths were rapid and heavy as he was shaken, the events of the day had caught up to him in the form of you and your tears. He begins to spew soft “I’m sorry”s and other apologises, but his panic makes him stutter and his sentences start to lack direction.

You shush him and direct the boy to listen to your heartbeat, trying your best to bring his shattered thoughts back to earth.

“JJ, we should get out of the hottub.” You tell him, to which he simply sniffles and nods, unsure of how to speak to you after the horrible things he said to you, and his inability to form a proper apology. He knew that you were nothing like he had depicted, yet he said what he said, and there was no taking it back.

His skin was red from the overheated water, and it itched with chlorine, so as the two of you entered the chateau, you started the shower.

“You should rinse off the chlorine.” You told him, not sure of how to speak to him either. He followed your order and stripped of his bathing suit. You were able to track down clothes for him to sleep in, and as you waltzed back into the bathroom, you decided you couldn’t leave him alone in the shower.

Taking off your soaked clothes quickly, you slip into the shower to find JJ standing still under the water. You snake your arms around his torso, careful of the bruises pressing your chest to his back. His hands find yours he holds them tight. You place a kiss on his spine, then rest your head where your lips touched.

“I’m so sorry” He croaked, his voice was tired, worn out from the day.

“JJ-”

“No stop Y/N” He turns around to face you, grabbing your face in his hands. “I’m sorry. I should have never said any of those things about you, none of them were true, it's just that, its,” He stumbles on his words. You rub his back to ground him again, he takes a deep breath. “It's just that you do deserve better than me.”

“JJ please-” He doesn’t let you continue.

“No you do, Y/N you do. You deserve so much better than me, than this life, than what I can give you. You don’t deserve some, broken kid that's never getting off the cut, you don’t deserve, to, have to watch as I steal money from drug dealers, you don’t deserve any of the shit that I know that I put you through you just, you deserve better, better than someone who doesn’t come close to deserving you.”

The tears streaming down both of your faces mix with the water coming from the shower and you have no idea how to make his saddening speech stop.

“JJ” You sob, he pauses. “You deserve so much more, than what your life has given you. You deserve to be happy, you deserve to be loved JJ, you deserve everything that you want, why can’t you see that?”

And instantly you feel stupid for asking. JJ’s eyes wander and find the bruises littering his body, answering your question. You stifle another sob as your eyes graze his battered skin.

“Listen to me.” You demand his attention. “You are not worthless.” His eyes divert from yours as he realises what you’re referring to. “JJ look at me,” After a moment or two, his gaze wearily finds yours. “You are not worthless, you are worthy of love, and affection, and someone who takes care of you, and not only are you worthy but you deserve it too. Do you hear me?”

JJ swallows thickly, nodding in acceptance of your beautiful words. He embraces you tightly, having no words of his own. No one had ever made him feel like this. No one had ever made him feel worthy of the good that was before him.

He was hesitant to think that he deserved you. To him, no one was good enough to actually deserve you, especially not him. However your speech made him open to the idea that maybe he was at least worthy of your love.

Your love.

You both realised in the same moment that the word was shared between you. You had never shared the faithful declaration of love to each other since you had been together romantically, and yet now you had mentioned love twice in the span of thirty seconds. JJ smiled as he held you. You loved him, and this was one of the ways that you showed it.

“Let's get the chlorine out of your hair J.”

He let you massage his scalp with the shampoo that he's seen you use before to get pool chemicals out of your hair. He didn’t really know what it did or how it was different from other shampoos but, it smelled like you and he loved getting his head rubbed. His breathing was still shaky, but he finally felt some of his anxiety from the day wearing off. Fighting with you was something he never wanted to do again. Fighting with his dad was something he knew he would have to do the next time he went home. He elected to ignore those thoughts, as your fingers worked magic on his hair, seemingly drawing all of the negative ideas out of his head along with the chlorine.

As JJ rinsed his hair of soap, he noticed you reaching for the bottle again, no doubt to wash your own hair. He holds out his hand, wordlessly asking if he could wash your hair for you, like you had done for him. This makes you grin as you hand him the bottle. JJ then realises that he doesn’t really know how to do what you did for him. That kind of small, soft, intimate touching was foreign to him.

He squeezes way too much shampoo into his hand, but you pay that no mind. He starts slow, trying to remember the way your fingers moved on his scalp, but in the end knowing that he just wasn’t good at giving head massages.

“I used way too much.” He states, watching as suds continue to produce from your locks.

“It’s okay.” You hum watching the bubbles disappear down the drain. “I set out clothes for you when you’re ready, I’m probably gonna be another minute” You tell him, referring to the other bottles you had in the shower that you still had to use.

“Okay, thank you” He kisses you as he exits the shower. You finish up quickly, wanting to be next to him, and hoping that his thoughts as he sits alone don’t carry him away like they had before.

You find that he left his tee shirt for you, like he had on nights before. You wear the shirt that smelled of him along with a pair of comfortable running shorts and head to the spare bedroom of the chateau that JJ called his most nights.

You spot JJ sitting at the edge of the bed, waiting for you. You slowly and carefully climb onto his lap, straddling him and holding his head close to your chest. You notice anxiety still radiating off of him.

“Hey,” You start softly. “It’s okay, everythings okay-”

“I love you” He states bluntly as he picks up his head from your chest.

“What?” You stumble, surprised at his outburst.

“I love you, and I want to be with you, like, publically, or whatever. I wanna tell the Pouges and-” before he starts rambling, you stop him.

“I love you too JJ.” This pauses him.

“Say it again.”

You giggle, but inhale, knowing that he needs to hear it.

“JJ.” You start. “I love you.”

He lets out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding, eyes watering for the millionth time.

“I still don’t think that I deserve this.” He admits, looking into your eyes with his crystal clear blue ones.

“You do.” You push his hair back from his face. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you that you do.”

He was hesitant to accept everything that you had said to him that day, but he never doubted that you would give him your all. This was all he needed to know before he allowed himself fully over to you, kissing you with more desperation and love than ever before.

“I love you so much.” You muttered into his lips, and from that day on, you would say it again and again, as many times as he needed to hear it. A constant reminder to him that he was deserving and worthy of good, of love, and of you.

Taglist: @maybe-maybanks @myrandom-fandomlife

#outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #jj #maybank #jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj imagine #jj fanfiction #obx #obx imagine #obx netflix #obx jj #jj maybank x reader #rudy pankow #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow fanfiction #rudy pankow fic

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valwentinefics · 3 years

Text

First Impressions - Helmut Zemo x Reader (Pride and Prejudice AU) Part 1

The news of a new inhabitant of Netherfield Park has your family excited to meet the rich and single man Mr. Barnes at the upcoming ball. While there you come face to face with his friend, the Sokovian Baron named Helmut Zemo, who seems like he’d rather be anywhere else.

A/n: First part woo! This part was mostly based on the 2005 movie, the next part will follow the book more. I also won’t be doing such accurate lines in the future unless you guys tell me you want me to, I just felt like I should in this to set things up better. I’m also just slapping in marvel characters where I can, I hope you guys don’t mind!

Series Masterlist

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. This opinion was held by the community for the newest inhabitant of Netherfield Park, despite not knowing his opinion on the matter, and the mothers in each of the surrounding families had their hearts set on ensuring that one of their daughters would be the one to stake their claim on the man.

Your chilly hands held a weathered book as you entered the small house, abandoning the crisp and fresh spring air for the warmer indoor air that always seemed to smell slightly of flour. You often read outside while walking, a way to enjoy your hobbies of walking and reading as well as relax in the quiet spring air without your often giggling horde of sisters to interrupt your thoughts as they were doing now.

Your eyes looked to the group of girls gathered outside the door to your father’s study, ears pressed against the wood. You gently bonked your sister Natasha on the head with your book when you saw her straining to hear whatever conversation was happening in the room.

“It’s not polite to eavesdrop Natasha.” You scolded your older sister who’s beautiful face turned to a pout at your words. Although you were only the second child you often felt as if you were the oldest.

“Y/n this is different! Mother says Netherfield Park has let at last. It has a young, wealthy, and single inhabitant!” She protested, making you hesitate your retort.

Normally you were not one to indulge in your mother’s gossip about men, but the news piqued your interest. It was no secret to you or your sisters that your family was not doing well when it came to money. With your father aging more by the day and a cousin you hardly contacted set to inherit the property and everything on it once he died, things were not looking good. It was due to this that your mother was frantic when it came to setting up her daughters with suitable husbands. You sighed and pressed your ear to the door, knowing your mother was likely to attempt to set you or one of your sisters up with this newcomer, you were hoping to figure out some things about him before she did.

“How does his fortune affect our girls?” You heard your father, Mr. L/n, ask. You knew he knew the answer, your father was an intelligent man, he just found great enjoyment in pushing at your mothers buttons.

“Mr. L/n!” Mrs. L/n’s exasperated cry could be heard clearer than anything else that had been said earlier. It was as if she wanted the whole world to hear of her plights. “You know it matters because I intend to marry one of them to him!” Marriage seemed to be the only thing on your mothers mind, it was as if she was put on the earth for the sole purpose of getting you and your sisters a husband with good connections.

“Does the man get a choice in this?” You could hear your father chuckle and you had to bite back your own.

“The odds are in our favour with the amount of daughters we have, he very well might fall in love with one of them, which is why you must go see him at once!” Mrs. L/n pleaded, earning a sigh from Mr. L/n.

“You and the girls can go, or you can send them by themselves. Perhaps the latter will work out better, for you are as handsome as any of them. This Mr. Barnes may like you the best of the party if you are in attendance.” He flattered her. You knew it was a mix of sincerity and a way to distract her from her nagging. If nagging was something people could compete in, your mother would likely be world renowned for her skill.

“My dear, you flatter me. I have had my fair share of beauty, however it is nothing extraordinary now.” Mrs. L/n paused for a second before seeming to remember her mission. “But Mr. L/n, You must visit him! Think of our daughters!”

The door opened, causing your sister Peggy to nearly fall to the ground, caught by your other sister Carol. The greying Mr. L/n smiled at the group of girls gathered outside the door before walking past them, chased by Mrs. L/n.

“Mr. L/n! Mr. L/n! Are you listening to me?” She called out as she followed him.

The older man paused, turning around to look at his wife and daughters who had followed them both. “I don’t see why I must go visit Mr. Barnes for a second time.” A sly grin spread onto his face.

“A second time?” Mrs. L/n gasped. “Oh, how could you tease me? Have you no compassion for my poor nerves?”

“On the contrary my dear, I have the utmost respect for them. They are my old friends, I’ve dealt with them countless times over the years.” He teased, earning an eye roll from his wife.

“Will he be attending the ball tomorrow?” Spoke up Sharon, excitement clearly shown on her face as she looked at your father expectantly.

“I believe so.” Mr. L/n replied, sitting down and watching as your sisters exploded with joy, chattering loudly about what they would wear and pestering him with questions about what the man was like.

You couldn’t help but smile and find yourself excited for the event. It had been a while since you last attended a ball and you looked forward to looking good and getting to see the strange new man. Netherfield Park was an amazing property, and you had heard many good things about the library of the place. The new tenant Mr. Barnes was likely to be an avid reader because of it, and if he was perhaps you could find a friend in him.

A friend was all you were interested in. Whenever the topic of marriage came up you found yourself zoning out, much to your mothers dismay. Men were either too cocky or too daft, and always too easy to figure out. You wanted someone with substance, someone intelligent enough to keep his cards close to him, whose character you couldn’t figure out as easily as the rest. It would take characteristics like that for you to even begin to grow interest in a man, and even then only the deepest, truest love could persuade you into the chains of matrimony.

The jovial air of the ball made a smile appear on your face as you stood in the corner of the room with Natasha and Wanda Maximoff. Wanda was your very close and trusted friend despite being seven years older than you. Your mother often would go on rants about how you would end up just like her, an unmarried burden to your parents at twenty seven, but you ignored it. Your eyes were trained on the dancing people, your foot slightly tapping to the sound of the music until it suddenly stopped. Your attention snapped to the entrance of the room, spotting three newcomers, two men and a woman.

“The man with the blue eyes is Mr. James Barnes and the woman is his sister Miss. Rebecca Barnes.” Wanda explained, noticing you and your sister’s confusion. Her father had brought her family to Netherfield to introduce themselves earlier.

“And the man with the bad attitude?” You asked, examining the man accompanying the two. He didn’t seem too happy to be here. He was extremely put together, not a hair out of place and his posture exuding importance. His brown eyes looked around the room, making those who they landed on wonder what they did to deserve the piercing look.

“Baron Helmut Zemo.” Wanda explained. “He comes from Sokovia, rumors say he owns about half of the country.” Your eyes hardened, assuming his reason for being so unimpressed with being in the room must have something to do with his wealth and not wanting to be around so many common people.

“The miserable half of Sokovia clearly.” You scoffed, unable to rip your eyes from him. He would have been attractive if not for the ill temper he seemed to have.

Wanda and Natasha laughed at your comment, the music soon resuming once the group made their way to the other end of the room. You couldn’t help but stare at them, your attention mostly on Baron Zemo as he spoke to no one, despite the Barnes siblings who he had come with mingling with others.

You felt a hand grab your arm and you turned your head to face the person, realizing it was your mother. “Y/n, come, I must have you and Natasha introduced to Mr. Barnes.” She said, hauling you away to the other side of the room as you gave Wanda a pleading look, although you knew she could do nothing to stop your determined mother.

“These are my daughters, Natasha my eldest, and Y/n the second. I have others but they’re already dancing.” She introduced you and your sister. You looked at the group, taking great effort to stop yourself from staring at the Baron, instead examining Mr. Barnes.

Mr. Barnes was certainly handsome with his dark looks. He was well built, clearly a man who went outside quite a bit, and his striking blue eyes were filled with kindness but had a small darkness within them, despite that you read him as a kind and gentle man who worked past his past mistakes. His eyes stayed primarily on Natasha, and you couldn’t blame him. Natasha was always the most effortlessly stunning sister, but when it came to balls where she put effort in her appearance, she blew everyone away.

“Mr. Barnes, are you liking it here in Hertfordshire?” Asked Natasha, her eyes stayed on him as well. You allowed yourself to glance at the Baron while the two conversed, finding the man standing still and talking to no one, instead looking away from your group and watching the dancing crowd with an unreadable expression.

“Very much.” He replied. You turned your attention back to the conversation to not appear rude, Mr. Barnes was giving your sister a charming smile.

“I’ve heard the library at Netherfield is one of the finest in the country.” You added to the conversation.

“It fills me with guilt, I’m not a very avid reader.” You had expected this from his athletic stature. “I prefer being outdoors. I mean, I can read, and I’m not saying you can’t read outdoors.” He began to ramble, seemingly embarrassed. Despite his kindness he didn’t seem to be too good when it came to socializing, either that or Natasha’s beauty was distracting him as he hadn’t taken his eyes off of her even when you had spoken.

“I wish I read more but it always seems as if there's other things to do.” Natasha spoke with a smile, saving Mr. Barnes from his awkward state.

“That’s exactly what I meant!” He smiled, making Natasha smile in response. You knew they would get along well which would delight your mother.

You felt the warmth of someone's stare, turning your head to see Baron Zemo looking at you. Your eyes locked with his deep brown ones for a few moments, wordlessly trying to figure him out. You heard Mr. Barnes ask Natasha for a dance, and she accepted, leaving you with the Baron.

“Do you dance much, Baron?” You asked, hoping to ease the tension between you two by initiating a conversation.

“Not if I can help it.” He looked away, not seeming to be too pleased with being spoken to. The awkwardness of the moment threatened to consume you. You silently watched your sister dance for the duration of the song before heading to Wanda once it ended.

“What’s wrong?” She asked

“Baron Zemo is a dreadful conversationalist. He seemed so irritated with me just asking him a question, I can’t stand-” You were cut off with a shush, Wanda gesturing to where the Baron and Mr. Barnes were standing nearby, not noticing you two.

“I’ve never seen so many beautiful women in one place in my life.” Mr. Barnes spoke to his friend.

“You were dancing with the only beauty in the room.” The Baron replied with a scoff.

“She was gorgeous, but what about her sister? Y/n I believe was her name. She seemed intelligent, she asked me about the library. Maybe the two of you would be a good match” He nudged the Baron who sent him a look. Their dynamic was odd, and Y/n couldn’t help but wonder how such a kind man became friends with a man like Baron Zemo.

“She’s tolerable, but isn’t handsome enough to tempt me.” He replied, the two walking away to where Miss. Barnes was. You didn’t care about Baron Zemo’s opinion, but you couldn't help but be offended at his remark.

“If he liked you, you’d have to speak with him. Count your blessings Y/n.” Wanda tried to cheer you up.

You forced a convincing smile. “I wouldn’t dance with him for all of Sokovia anyways, let alone his miserable half.”

Your joke made Wanda laugh, but your insecurities began to creep through. You had to forcibly stop yourself from dwelling on the Baron's words. He was pompous and judgmental and not worth your time. You looked over to him briefly and saw him looking unimpressed with everything around him. Was that really the man you would let spoil your fun night? He was the most disagreeable and unpleasant man you’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting, and you couldn’t stop yourself from wishing you would never have to encounter him after this night.

You stood up, determined to make the best out of the night, and headed to find a partner to dance with. You didn’t want to give the Baron the honour of haunting your thoughts. However, it was hard to keep him out of your mind when as you got in place to dance you felt the prickling of his stare on your back.

Taglist: @killeromanoff @ay0nha @thesuitkovian @pedropascallovebot @trelaney @hibiscusgardenia @dxnxdjarxn @naivara-duneimith @hiraethmaximoff @farihafangirls @aisling1985 @literatureandqueen let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

#zemo #helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader

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myloveforhenrycavill · 3 years

Text

Devastated | Clark Kent x Reader

Pairing: Clark Kent x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: cancer, angst

A/N: Hey guys! Really hope you enjoy this fic. It’s super angsty. I revisited an old fic that I wrote many, many years ago for a different fandom, but it felt right to rewrite it with stuff that’s going on in my life right now with my dad. Please let me know what you guys think, but please be gentle (me fragile). This is my first fic about one of Henry ‘s characters, but I look forward to getting back into writing. Xxx much love -Stina

My Fic Recs

_______________________________________________

Clark stared at the ceiling of his room listening to the clock hanging above his door. To anyone else, this would have been dull background noise, but to Clark it sounded like thunder roaring. It had been a painfully long day working at the Daily Planet and he was beyond glad it was over. Perry had been breathing down his neck all day about a story and his approaching deadline. Relief washed over Clark when he walked through the doors of his apartment building, but something was still missing. All he wanted to do was go see you.

Oh, how much he wanted to see you. You always brightened his day no matter what he had on his mind. The two of you had a complicated relationship. You were technically just friends. However, you tend to do things that only couples do. You've kissed once or twice after a night out and constantly cuddled each other whenever the chance arises, but it never progressed further than that. Neither of you brought up the subject, afraid of the others reaction and afraid to ruin whatever it was you had. Clark wanted to, god he wanted to, but you’ve never been in a real relationship and he hasn’t wanted to scare you away. He cares about you way too much to let that happen. Clark wants to protect you from ever being hurt no matter the cost.

It had been hours since Clark got home. He’s tried texting you around 10 times and has called you five times. This wasn't like you. You practically lived on your phone. You both always update each other throughout the day. Thank god for unlimited texting or else you would both be royally screwed. Clark was starting to get quite worried. What if something happened? Is she okay? were the only thoughts running through his head. He knew you were off from work today and you would have texted him if your job called you to come in. Maybe she's just asleep. She rarely has her volume up ever. Yeah, that has to be it. Clark was tempted to fly over to your apartment to check on you, but decided to text your sister before doing anything rash.

C: "hey, y/s/n. Is everything alright? I've been trying to reach Y/n for the last couple of hours and she isn't responding to me."

Y/s/n: "Clark, can you please go over to her apartment? She's an absolute wreck. I've heard her like this. I'm really worried."

C: "I’m on my way… what happened?"

Y/s/n: "our dad got his results back..."

The text was longer, but that was all Clark had to read before he flew over to your building. He didn’t care if anyone saw him. The whole world could have been burning and he wouldn’t have stopped. Your dad had cancer when you were younger, but he was doing well and had been in remission for quite some time. Recently, he had started to feel the same symptoms as the first time and went to get some tests done. Y/s/n's text only meant one thing. The cancer was back.

If this was true, then it made perfect sense why you wouldn't contact him. You would be devastated. Your dad was the most important person in your life. You loved him unconditionally and looked up to him like he could do no wrong.

Clark reached you within seconds. He knocked on the door and waited. He could hear nothing but silence which surprised him. When you did not come to the door, Clark retrieved the spare key from the top of your door frame. When he didn’t see you on the couch, he made his way to your bedroom and slowly opened the door, careful not to startle you. You laid there on the purple comforter sleeping. You looked utterly exhausted from crying. Your puffy eyes were singed pink. Your cheeks looked wet and sticky from what surely was hours of countless tears flowing. It truly pained Clark to see you in such a state.

Clark climbed into the other side of the bed just like he'd done numerous times before, but this time was different. You looked so broken. He carefully reached over and wiped a few stray tears off your cheeks and placed a gentle kiss underneath each of your eyes. They slowly fluttered open and acknowledged Clark’s presence. You sniffled a few times, but didn't cry.

"What are you doing here, Clark?" you whispered as if just that was taking all your energy.

"Your sister texted me...what happened, y/n? You know you can tell me anything," Clark inquired knowing that she needed to let it all out.

"You don't have to do this, Clark. Go somewhere and have fun. Don't waste your time on me. I know you'd rather be out with your other friends right now. You probably had a rough day and don’t need me to unload my baggage," you spoke immediately biting your lip and blinking your eyes in order to fight back the tears that were already pooling.

"Listen, love. You know that there is nowhere else I would rather be. I'm here for you and I always will be. No matter what happens, I'll be right here by your side. I care about you, Y/n. I care more than you could ever know, just tell me what happened." Clark cupped your cheek as he gently wiped the traitorous tears away with the pad of his thumb.

You broke and told Clark everything that had happened since he spoke to you last. You were a trembling mess laid on the bed next to him. Clark tightly wrapped both his arms around you, never wanting to let go whispering comforting words into your ear trying to make it even a little bit better.

You grabbed his white t-shirt with two fists and sobbed into it which would surely be ruined with your leftover mascara running from your eyes. It didn't matter to Clark though, not even a little. It was worth it. You were worth it.

Once you calmed down hours later, Clark pulled back slowly still holding you securely and stared at you. You looked up at him through your lashes and had the faintest smile across your face.

"Thank you, Clark, genuinely. For everything. You didn't have to lay here with me this entire time. I'm not worth it..."

Clark stopped you instantly. "Don't ever say that, my love. You deserve the moon, the stars, and the sun. Anyone who tells you otherwise is lying. I would go to the end of the earth for you and it still would never be enough. I care about you, Y/n. More than I can even put into words. The past few months that this has been going on have been the best of my life. You make me feel whole. Like something has been missing all this time and I'm starting to realize what it was. "

The dim smile that you once wore turned into a full-blown smirk. "I don't see what you're getting at Mr. Kent."

That's it. There's my girl. MY girl. God, I love the way that sounds. That sarcastic idiot is my world and I intended to spend the rest of my life proving that to her.

"Shut up," Clark muttered as he slowly leaned in, meeting you in the middle. Your lips collided and the feeling of his lips connected with your soft ones felt like nothing he could ever describe. He would never get sick of this feeling. The way you made him feel was like he was floating high through the sky (which he had plenty of experience with, but this was a million time better). The best high that no drug could every give him. If you were a drug, Clark was happily addicted to your sweet intoxication.

You both pulled back and Clark rested his forehead on yours cupping your face with both of his hands. "Let's get some sleep, love. We can discuss more of this tomorrow if we need to."

You sluggishly nodded with your head still spinning and placed your head on his broad chest curling into the position you had assumed many times before. Clark loved nothing more than cuddling with you. It felt like home. She is my home.

You placed one hand across his chest as he dropped both of his arms comfortably around your waist not letting you go anywhere. Tonight, she is all mine and I can live with that.

One day you would take the next step closer to each other, but not tonight. You were still vulnerable from the news of your dad’s health. Clark wanted your decision to be with him to be a clear one, not just because he was the only one there for you. Tonight, Clark was simply a shoulder to cry on and he was perfectly content with that. Someday, Y/n. Someday, I will have the guts to tell you how I really feel. How I'm quickly feeling that four-letter word that every guy is so afraid of. But the thing is, I'm not so afraid anymore.

#clark kent x reader #clark kent #henry cavill #superman #superman x reader #clark kent angst #clark kent fanfiction

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tender-rosiey · 3 years

Note

hey dear (yeah im deffo addicted to your writing) just checking on you i hope your doing good and taking care of yourself. I would also like to drop a one shot request of Chuuya falling for mori's god-daughter (also an executive) who has an ability which allows her to summon and control demons while singing but she ends up getting captured and goes missing for 2 years then one day they find her and he confesses to her after she gets rescued (rlly fluffy). thanks in advance love Safiyah <33

❥—Cassiopeia

❥—Chuuya Nakahara x Reader

❥—Fluff

ᴀ/ɴ: i am glad you enjoy my writing and i hope you are doing great as well; hopefully you like this one too 🥺💘 also let this cure your hearts after the last one- also the chant is inspired by Obey me ❣️

“Chuuya, I would like for you to meet my daughter.”

Right then a beautiful and fair lady came out of the door. Chuuya beweildered by her beauty went silent; such a beautiful creature existed?

“Y/N, meet Chuuya; he is one of the best executives here!” Mori introduced you smiling, to which you wave your hand to the ginger and smiled warmly “Hey Chuuya! Pleasure meeting you.” Chuuya smiled shyly and waved back “S-same here..”

Mori then smirked and questioned “Chuuya what’s the matter? You seem rather uncollected.” The said male waved his hand around in denial as he was stopped by a giggle from the lady beside him. “You are quite cute; I hope we get to know each other more.” You said before exiting for your mission.

Chuuya let out a sigh of relief putting his hands on his knees as blush crept onto his face. He made a total and utter fool out of himself; Isn’t he the strongest executive? Why was he so damn shy around you? The thought started clouding his mind until Mori snapped him out of his daze and asked “Are you perhaps interested in Y/N, Chuuya?”

Damn right he is. You were so sweet and kind and that just hit bullseye in his heart. Ever since then he would take almost any opportunity to be with you and talk with you. You were slowly getting to know each other better.

You have been together through tears and giggles and pain and sniffles. He knows you deeply and you know him just as well. After all 3 years of friendship isn’t a minuscule period of time; there multiple moments he had seen you in that made just how much of a wonderful person you are even clearer.

You got along with everyone.

Akutagawa, you both were like best friends and would tell each other everything. You were one of the few he accepted help or their company and you were always a great duo in battle.

Kouyou, the woman that took him in adores you. What more could he ask for? Kouyou helped you and guided in your times of unknowing what to do and how to do it. You were sisters and she valued you deeply, she would always hang out with you and talk with you about anything and everything.

Mori, the man who you addressed as your father. Despite Mori not being biologically him but he treated you as such, as if you were his daughter. He gave you all his love and made you feel appreciated and took care of you.

Seeing your kindness towards your allies Chuuya was dazzled, how could someone so sweet and kind be in the Mafia? His thoughts were completely erased when he saw you in battle.

Multiple screams, all saying the same thing “Beware of the Port Mafia’s devil!” Chuuya was wondering about who are they referring to, was it him? He suddenly heard someone singing behind him.

“Hear me, denizens of darkness, you who are born of shadow and you who give birth to it. Hear me and do as I command! I, Y/N, call upon you to send forth one of your number! I summon the demons of chanting despair!”

That voice, it sounded so angelic but the words were venomous. He turned around to be met with the sight of you floating, eyes glowing purple as demons from around you rose from the earth and attacked all the men in front of him.

‘Woah..’ He couldn’t be more in love. Your elegant movement while fighting were a sight to behold. Your voice was enchanting yet deadly, he would be grateful if it was the last thing he heard before his death.

He loved how there was a total difference between the way you treat your peers and your enemies. Did he really deserve if your feelings were mutual? It was new for Chuuya to doubt himself. But there wasn’t any route to choose when his heart now belonged to no one but you and that made him helpless before you.

“Look at the stars, Chuuya !” Right, you loved looking at constellations, and he loved how the stars shined and danced in your eyes as if they were their ball room.

He looked up and saw a weird look star, maybe a constellation? He then pointed at it and asked “Y/N, what constellation is that?” You smiled brightly before answering “That’s Cassiopeia! It represents love.” You then turned to the ginger finding him close to you and somehow both of you involuntary moved closer, slowly about to close the gap between you.

“Hello Y/N.” You both jumped and looked at the owner of the voice to see that it’s Mori. Chuuya saying every cuss word in his mind while you both were as red as roses, however Mori was grinning mischievously. It’s nice being a party pooper at times.

However that’s all in the past.

Now you were gone, no one knew where you were taken and if you were even still alive. 2 years too long for the ginger, too long because of his suffering and sadness through them.

When he first found out you were taken he was devastated and went on searching everywhere with the mafia men; everyone in the Port Mafia was searching for their Y/N.

At the night he found out he couldn’t sleep, and wanted to start the search as soon as possible but days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and then into years. Chuuya was starting to lose hope but still searched. Everyday he thought of you, he would drink wine and anything to wash it all away.

Even now after all what happened and the two years that had passed since then they still didn’t stop searching. He didn’t stop searching.

He was walking down the streets returning back from a mission as he came across a warehouse, it looked rather sketchy so to quiet down his thoughts he entered it and his eyes could not believe what he saw.

You all beaten up and bruised. Body looking as weak as a stick and something to silence your screams and chants on your mouth, his body loved involuntary and hugged you tightly quickly freeing you from the chains that hampered you from fleeing from your misery.

He sent the location to the Port Mafia and now everyone was going to come and make who did this to you pay. He picked you up and as he looked behind him he found Mori with wide eyes barely himself believing that indeed you were alive.

The old man took you from the hands of your savior and inspected your face, those who did this to you will go through hell. “Chuuya take her back.” Mori said sternly and Chuuya nodded, he wasn’t going to let you go out of his sight again.

And there he was with you on a bed, multiple tubes sticking to your skin and a oxygen mask. You looked really weak and pale, but it didn’t stop him from loving you. He loved you even more because you managed to live through that and made it back to him at the end.

Chuuya fell asleep as he was waiting for any sign of your awakening, and you woke up instead adjusting to the light and your surroundings. This wasn’t the dark and frightening warehouse you were in...you were finally saved. After two years of misery you were finally saved.

You looked to your side to find the ginger fast asleep alongside you, you smiled softly and gently played with his hair. Chuuya felt something on his head and slowly woke up to see you pulling your hand away, but he held it tenderly and put it back.

“I have to tell you something when you recover, Y/N.” He said as he was enjoying the feeling of your touch. “Why not now?” You questioned while he looked up at you with a smile and mumbled “because it’s something you need to be told outside of this white chamber.”

And so as time passed you were finally back to how you were. He blindfolded you and led you to a garden and went behind you. “Chuuya where are we?” You wondered while he chuckled and took your blindfold off and said “See for yourself.”

Your eyes were now looking at the garden you last saw Chuuya before your disappearance, but right now there was a picnic set and surrounding it were petals on a shape of a heart and candles lighting up the the space. He then pointed above and looked at you.

There it was, the constellation of love, Cassiopeia. He placed a hand on his heart and softly said “Love is what I feel for you. Very deep and strong love.” He walked towards you and held your hands between his bringing them up to his lips and placed a light kiss to them.

“I never stopped loving you, and from the moment I saw you took my breath away, you made me the prisoner of love and the poor who seeks for your love and touch. Everything about you is beyond description, I can’t find the words to describe it and I am afraid that it had already eaten me up. I am afraid that now you are the only who can calm the beast of love and adoration that only wants you and won’t accept anyone but you. So will you please give me a chance and let me show you how much love my heart feels towards you?”

A smile made its way into your face and vision getting glossy. You pulled the ginger towards you and connected your lips as gentle as one would touch a flower’s petal. The light of the stars shining on both you, it looked like a scene from a movie.

A portray, a beautiful portray, that could be drawn by millions but never be as beautiful. And Cassiopeia was the witness of their true and never ending love.

“once I believed

love poems were foolish

now I read love poems

just for the sake of it

and yet perhaps I want

to reach a higher state of poetry

I don't know if that's right or wrong

but such a feeling persists anyway

and sometimes irritates me

provoking outrageous desires

once I believed

love poems were foolish

yet now I do nothing

but dream about love“

-from “Exhaustion” by Nakahara Chuuya

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

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