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jeonqkooks · 9 months

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our beloved summer | jjk (07)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, swearing, mentions of oc's mother because we know girlie is hella traumatized, mentions of drinking, mentions of an almost physical fight, abandonment issues, jk forgets to practice safe driving for 2 seconds, and uhmmm kissing 🤫, anddd that cliffhanger? 👀 rating: 18+ (minors dni) word count: 10.8k note (1): this is the longest it has taken me to update obs and i do feel pretty guilty about that. but it's finally here now and this is one of the chapters that i'm the most nervous about posting. massive thanks to @daechwitatamic and @wintaerbaer for beta-ing this for me or else i would've screamed cried thrown up and scrapped the whole thing, and to @jeonwiixard for being a wonderful cheerleader as i was writing this, and to everyone in my beloved obs discord server for always being so sweet and kind and putting a smile on my smile every day since the server was created. also to my sunshine ☀︎ for introducing me to the song mentioned below bc HELLO is it not just one of the most obs coded songs ever. love you all my babies <3

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist join our OBS discord server ✨

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Somewhere in the multiverse There's a me and you that works We never fuck it up We're out there still in love Somewhere in the multiverse Maybe that's enough

multiverse - Maya Manuele ft. PEMRBOKE

Sometimes, whenever you look up at the moon at night, you wonder if Jungkook is doing the same thing.

Even when you fall out of love with someone, it still hurts. It hurts because you once loved them so much it felt like the sky would collapse if you couldn’t be with them. It hurts because the love wasn’t taken from you, but rather it started slipping away on its own, more and more each day until you realize you’re holding onto nothing when there once was everything.

You can’t say that you’re too familiar with that kind of hurt though. You’ve never fallen out of love before.

You don’t think Jungkook is too familiar with it either, at least not when he left you.

You wonder if he thinks about you from time to time and gets sad. You think he does, because you know that he loved you. Something ended for him too. The memories that you shared were his memories too.

You hope that it’s painful for him whenever thoughts of you cross his mind, because that would mean that he cares. That a part of him still cares.

And if he still cares, then he might come back.

Despite the front that you try to parade around, there is a part of you that will always leave your heart vacant for him, regardless of whether or not he would return. It’s a scary thought, one that you would rather avoid at all costs, one that says there will be no one that you love more than you loved Jungkook. Maybe there can’t be another person that you will love at all.

You can come back quietly, like the wind slipping through the crack I leave in the window at night; or you can announce your return resoundingly like a sudden downpour quenching the summer heat. I don’t care. I kept your side of the bed empty and warm, waiting for you to come back. Hoping that you would come home.

[08:47] Yoongi: sure you don’t want me to drive you there? [08:48] Yoongi: i can pick you up in 30 [08:52] You: positive 🤧 i told you i already booked the train. it’s only 4 hours away [08:53] You: i’ll survive, yoongs [08:55] Yoongi: did you not watch Train To Busan? [08:56] You: ? [08:57] Yoongi: what if there’s a zombie apocalypse [09:00] You: yoongi if there’s a zombie apocalypse, how is your CONVERTIBLE supposed to keep me safe [09:01] Yoongi: i’ll put the roof up [09:02] You: stop talking [09:02] You: please stop talking. [09:03] Yoongi: 😡😡😡 [09:03] You: 😇 [09:03] You: gotta get dressed now though. i’ll see u when i get back? :) [09:05] Yoongi: fine [09:06] Yoongi: safe travels. text me when you get there :)

You plop onto your bed with a sigh, glancing at the bag that’s already packed and sitting near your wardrobe, lonely. You stay like that for a while, contemplating whether or not you should bail at the very last minute.

It was not on your bingo card that you’d be here, agonizing over your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s wedding. Nope. Absolutely no one saw it coming.

For fuck’s sake, why would they invite you to a wedding? A celebration of love? It feels like you’re being forced onto a prank show, just waiting for someone to jump out and scream in your face.

You learned that the wedding was for close friends and family only, so it would be a relatively small event, which makes it even more confusing why you were also asked to join. Maybe the world is changing too rapidly and you’re just a little old-fashioned for it, but you really don’t understand why your ex-boyfriend’s family would want you there.

Taehyung and Jimin were invited too; they’re Jungkook’s best friends after all. They’re practically an extension of the family, Jungkook’s brothers by choice. But Taehyung doesn’t come back from his work trip until the day of the wedding, and Jimin… Well, he just doesn’t want to go to a Busan wedding in the middle of winter.

So why are you even going?

You could’ve declined. Said you couldn’t attend because the invitation came in so late. Made up a work trip or a family emergency. There’s a plethora of excuses you could’ve used.

Or you could’ve simply said no. That would’ve been perfectly fine too. No one would even need to ask why.

But maybe it was because his mother had customized the invite with her own handwriting in the back. You would’ve missed it if you hadn’t spent hours meticulously studying the card like someone was going to quiz you. It wasn’t anything special - just We hope to see you there - but you think you’d feel really bad to decline after she’d made the extra effort to ask you to come.

When you told Yoongi that you would be attending Jungkook’s brother’s wedding, he didn’t seem upset. Still cool as a cucumber. Although if he was bothered by the announcement, you don’t think he would’ve let it show. It did take him a minute to take it in, but then he just pecked your cheek and asked if you could bring a plus-one. You both knew that you wouldn’t even if that was an option.

Pushing your body off the bed, you drag yourself to the bathroom to splash some water on your face. Then sunscreen. Then change into the clothes you’d already picked out last night. Your train doesn’t leave for another hour and fifteen minutes, but you want to be there at least twenty minutes early just in case. This is one of your only good habits.

You rub your eyes when you finally haul yourself outside, thinking you must still be dreaming because what is Jungkook’s car doing here?

You blink a few times, expecting the vehicle to disappear in a puff of white smoke.

Spoiler alert: It doesn’t.

The car is in front of you, but the man is nowhere to be found.

You stand there dumbfoundedly, contemplating whether you should wait it out for a little bit to see if he’s actually here. He comes running up to you a couple minutes later, holding two paper cups in his hands, one of them a chai latte. A memory you’d buried long ago comes rushing to the surface. It’s too early for you to be feeling.

“Hi,” he says, his warm breath coming out in a huff of smoke in the crisp morning air.

“Hi?” you mutter dumbly when he trades the bag in your hand for the drink. There’s a moment where you’re genuinely baffled, wondering if this is a memory reel playing right before your eyes. This is your Jungkook, wearing that same old smile whenever he used to come bounding up your dorm building so you could walk to the library together, where he would hang out with you during your shift if he didn’t have classes. “What are you doing here?”

You don’t remember telling him what time your train was, so he’d probably badgered it out of Taehyung or Jimin somehow.

“I thought I could drive us there,” he says. “I texted you about it.”

Well, that explains it. You don’t bother with his dozens of messages anymore. “Oh, uhm, I already booked the train.”

This doesn’t seem to faze him at all. “Free cancellation up to 15 minutes before departure.” Jungkook grins, clearly eager despite your obvious reluctance. It’s too early for this, whatever the hell this is.

When you told him that you had RSVP’d yes to the invitation, he was surprised that you even knew about the wedding. He even seemed nervous that day.

“What if I’d already left?” you ask.

He blinks, then stammers like a confused child. It’s cute, and you have to mentally slap yourself over the head for even thinking that.

“Then I’d go after you.”

How? you scoff internally. Unrealistic.

Regardless, not even an hour ago, you were declining Yoongi’s offer to drive you there. Now, you’re standing here, in front of your ex-boyfriend, contemplating whether or not you should go with him.

“Let’s go,” he says after a minute. “We don’t wanna be stuck in traffic.”

“I haven’t said yes.” Yet. “It’s a 4-hour drive.”

You don’t have to clarify what you mean. He understands it.

You both just stare at each other for a moment, the tension suddenly thickening with every passing second. Four hours on the road. Four hours alone in a car with Jungkook. That’s about two hundred minutes more than you think you can handle.

It’s like he can see right through you. “Don’t think about it,” he says, voice dropping lower. “It’s just a weekend. Everything will still be here for you to think about when we get back.”

In your head, it translates to: All of our shit will still be here when we get back. You can keep being mad at me then.

You hope that’s not true. You hope that when you get back, the things that keep you up at night will simply cease to exist. That in the two days you’ll be gone, a genie will materialize and solve all your problems for you.

Either way, it’s probably for the best that you aren’t mean to him this weekend. You’re stuck with him for the next 48 hours or so; it’ll only stress you out even more if you channel all of your energy into tormenting him. Besides, you’re already the ex girlfriend who has no place alongside his family. You don’t want to be the dark cloud raining on everyone’s parade too.

Maybe you’d already made up your mind when you let him take the bag from you.

For the first half of the drive, you were unconscious.

It’s a useless superpower that you have, the ability to fall asleep anywhere - literally anywhere, including in the passenger seat of your ex-boyfriend’s car while he escorts you to his hometown. Melatonin gummies manufacturers hate you.

You could’ve slept the whole drive, but around the second hour mark, you were startled awake when your body jostled forward, straining against your seatbelt uncomfortably. There was an arm trying to hold you back, despite the seatbelt having done its job well.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses before he turns toward you, worry written all over his face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, are you okay?”

You blink, still half asleep. “I’m okay,” you say. The minivan that Jungkook almost rear-ended continues on its merry way, carrying what seems to be a family of five. “What happened?”

He sighs, his outstretched arm retreating back to his side. “I got a bit distracted, that’s all.”

You take in your surroundings then. There’s barely any other cars in sight, no tacky billboard that sticks out like a sore thumb to catch your attention. There’s just the freeway, stretching on empty for all you can see.

“By what?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he says. “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

See, you have the superpower of falling asleep anywhere and everywhere, but once you’ve been woken up, it’s not as easy to fall back asleep.

That, and the fact that you’re hungry as shit.

You open your mouth, about to say no, about to offer to drive the rest of the way if Jungkook is tired, but your stomach doesn’t let you get a word out. It growls, filling the space of the car, making you want to chuck yourself out the fucking window and run all the way back to the city. This wouldn’t have happened had you taken the train, because if you had, there would’ve been food services and no one would be subject to hearing your stomach sing like it’s chewing out a small puppy in there. Life is nothing but an endless pit of embarrassment and despair.

Your arms hold themselves tighter around your frame, practically squeezing into your abdomen as you will it to please, please, please be quiet. Jungkook stares at you, and you can tell by the teeny tiny quirk of his lips that he’s trying to bite back a smile. He’s relaxed, but there’s still something hesitant on his face. It takes him a minute before he finally throws the question out.

“Do you want to go to that guksu place that we used-” that we used to go to, “you know the place. The one that’s right off the freeway?”

The sun is out today. The sky unfolds endlessly just outside the window, coloring blue everything your eyes land on. There are strips of clouds scattered here and there, like delicate strokes of white paint on an azure canvas. Even the winter cold has to soften.You bite into your cheek. Don’t think, that’s what he had told you.

Not much about this quaint restaurant has changed. The quirky decorations are still where they used to be, the windows still the same unique stained glass that you never came across anywhere else. You remember the elderly woman who runs the place, even if she doesn’t have a single clue who you are. The golden retriever you used to fawn over every time you stopped by, sits quietly by the door and watches the cars pass by, his fur now graying as weariness begins to settle into those old bones.

You would’ve been displeased if the place had changed, because, well, you don’t like change. But then again, this familiarity is dangerous. It tricks you into thinking that everything is still the same, even you and him. Deludes you into believing that you’re still in love and that he’ll walk out of here holding your hand.

Regardless, the first spoonful has you biting back a smile.

“How is it?” Jungkook asks.

It makes you feel all warm inside, and then a little sad, nostalgic.

“Tastes just the same,” you tell him simply.

“Hmm.”

He lets you satisfy your hunger in peace. It’s the least he can do anyway.

There’s a wall near the back of the restaurant, where people could hang polaroids of themselves and cute handwritten notes. You think if you dig through the hundreds of photos scattered across the space, you might be able to find you and Jungkook there, if you two haven’t already been thrown out long ago to make room for new memories.

He pays for your food after you’re both finished, despite some protesting on your side. As you leave, you’re busy thinking that if you could have a moment to marvel at that far-back wall of memories, if you could find a photo of you and him there, you would probably sneak it into your coat pocket.

It’d be another thing to add to your pile of Jungkook memorabilia - the old clothes in the back of your closet, the stack of dusty polaroids at the bottom of your drawer. You wonder if he keeps anything of yours, maybe an old t-shirt that you forgot to take back. It’s probably unlikely, but a girl can hope.

You miss the way Jungkook glances back, thinking the exact same thing.

You survive the rest of the drive with more ease, probably because of the food. You spend most of the remaining 2 hours leaning against the window, humming to the radio, closing your eyes but not really sleeping. You even forget to be nervous about what is to come.

That is, until the car pulls up to the venue.

It’s absolutely gorgeous, and a lot bigger than you imagined - a modern beach house overlooking the waters. It’s not as extravagant as one would expect to see when they come to a wedding, but considering the small crowd in attendance, this is more than enough. You see people rush in and out of the place even from far away - planners, caterers, the bridesmaids and groomsmen, probably.

You feel a bit comforted just watching this. His family seems to be doing a lot better than before. It’s nice to know.

You barely make it out of the car before someone calls your name, and pulls you into a hug that knocks the wind out of you. Although, when you catch the scent of her hair, you instantly know who it is.

Parents usually have a scent that’s distinct to only their kids, a scent so cozy and homely that no perfume can ever mask. You can only describe your mom’s scent with a feeling, specifically the feeling of your chest tightening, tingling with a bittersweetness that you never found elsewhere.

Strangely enough, Jungkook’s mother has always made you feel the opposite. She makes you feel relieved to be in her embrace, like she accepts you for who you are even if all you are to her, at the end of the day, is a stranger.

You hug her back awkwardly, hesitantly, in front of Jungkook’s dad, his brother Junghyun, and a girl you don’t know. You assume that she’s the bride-to-be, the main character whom this weekend revolves around. Sooji, you remember that was the name on the wedding invitation.

You get choked up suddenly, eyes turning glassy though you quickly blink it away. You’re not sure if you’ve had someone be so happy to see you. Bypassers might even think that you just found the cure for cancer.

For a second there, you wonder if your mere presence has ever made your mother this overjoyed.

You look at Jungkook for help, silently asking him to rescue you. Who else are you supposed to turn to if not him?

He understands that look. “Okay, mom,” he says, entangling her arms from you with ease, “Y/N’s tired from the drive. Let’s let her rest, yeah? I’ll show her the room.”

She ignores her son. “Honey,” she says, brushing your hair away from your face so she could see you better. “Thank you for coming.” She used to insist that you call her “mom”, or at least by her first name because “Mrs. Jeon” was too formal for someone she considered family.

You now have to opt for the latter, because “mom” isn’t an option for you anymore.

“Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Jeon,” you tell her with a smile. You’re not really sure what else to say, but it makes you a little sad just calling her that.

She opens her mouth before closing it again, seemingly about to jokingly scold you for the formality before she recognizes the bittersweet look in your eyes. She just smiles at you then. There’s not much to be done about it.

You don’t know if anyone else sees how the moment is weighed down. Probably not. Maybe it’s just you and her who share this sentiment.

Jungkook doesn’t wait for his mom anymore. Sons, typical. He wedges himself between the two of you like a bulldozer and leads you inside the house.

Even though all you have is an overnight bag, Jungkook carries it for you all the way up to your room, which is only down the hall from his. Then he disappears pretty quickly afterward, saying something about his best man duties and putting out fires. He seems apologetic as he tells you this, but it’s not like you’re expecting him to babysit you all weekend.

You bore yourself to death in your room for a while, before you remember you have to text Yoongi to let him know you got here safely. Though, you stop short of telling him that it was Jungkook who drove you here. It’s trivial enough, right? You don’t want Yoongi to feel bad over nothing. You do, however, inform Taehyung and Jimin when you text them about it, to which Jimin only responds with a preemptively disapproving ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

When you get too stir-crazy, you wander outside, hoping to explore the beach before it gets dark and colder. You try to stay out of everyone’s way, because a good guest is a quiet guest. You seem to be doing a good job. No one notices you, not even Jungkook’s mom but that’s because she’s the person you actively want to avoid the most. You don’t know what you’d even say to her if she gets you alone.

Everything is hectic, as one can probably imagine when it comes to wedding preparations. You haven’t had anyone close to you get married yet, so it’s safe to say that you’re pretty much clueless about all of this. You wonder what it’ll be like when your big day comes around, if you even ever get married. You haven’t thought about it in a long time. Why would you? You don’t really have a reason to think about this. It’s much easier to picture Taehyung’s or Jimin’s wedding day than your own.

Your opinion on having kids still remains the same, and you were never one of those girls who daydreamed about having a big and extravagant wedding, but it’s not such a bad idea to ponder about. You still think marriage is a scary thing - it’s one of the biggest commitments a person could ever make - but you’re not entirely opposed to getting married.

Why are you even mulling over this? Your time might never even come.

When you round the corner to get the steps that would lead you down to the beach, you run into Sooji and a woman holding a thick binder - must be a wedding planner. You give Jungkook’s future sister-in-law an awkward smile in greeting, which she returns much more gracefully before she tells the woman that she’ll be with her in a minute.

So now you’re stuck here, about to make small talk with a person you have never met before, and will likely never see again. Great.

“Hi,” you say, extending a hand. “I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself. I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Sooji,” she replies warmly as she shakes your hand, and you have to stop yourself from being a little weirdo and thinking about how silky her hair looks up close. “You’re Jungkook’s… friend, right?”

You purse your lips before nodding with a chuckle. The pause tells you that she knows, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she’s uncomfortable having you here.

“I’m sorry if this is weird. You probably don’t want a complete stranger at your wedding.”

Sooji shakes her head instantly, waving her hands around to dismiss your apology. “Please, it’s totally fine. Junghyun’s mom talked to me about it before we sent out the invites. I wouldn’t have agreed if I was really bothered. Don’t worry about it, seriously.”

“Why did you agree?” you ask, trying to sound as polite as possible. “You don’t know who I am.”

“I guess I was curious.” She shrugs, before laughing lightly as she says, “I used to think you weren’t real.”

“Huh?”

“She talks about you constantly. Never in front of Jungkook, of course. But she’s really fond of you, and you probably already know that doesn’t happen very often. She really does see you like a daughter. She made you sound too good to be true.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. His mom still thinks about you, still talks about you after all this time. You’re just his ex-girlfriend, but she considers you her family. You don’t know what to do with this information nor the way it pinches your heart.

“I-” You purse your lips, fumbling with the responses in your head. You settle on a light laugh, because Sooji can probably tell that you’re struggling with the words too. “I have to be honest. I don’t know what to say to that.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just thought you should know that you’re still very much loved here.” She gives you a kind smile, and it looks like she wants to tell you something else but decides against it in the end. Sooji’s eyes land somewhere behind you before she points in that general direction. “I have to go take care of an issue with the flowers, but look, Jungkook is here. Why don’t you ask him to show you around?”

And then she’s already off. Overall, what a… strange interaction.

You turn around to see Jungkook standing near one of the entrances to the house. As you watch him talk to someone - a bridesmaid, you assume, or just one of the other guests - you try not to think about the fact that there’s a stirring sensation in your stomach, and that it only intensifies when she throws her head back in a pretty laugh, a perfectly manicured hand landing on his arm like he’s the most charming person she’s ever met.

You don’t give it a name, don’t label it green in color even though you’re blue and he’s golden sunshine. You don’t acknowledge that it’s a feeling, because doing so would make it real and there are certain truths that you’d rather delude yourself into thinking are lies.

When Jungkook’s eyes catch yours and he cuts off the woman mid-sentence with a curt excuse me, you don’t acknowledge that feeling either, but it’s warm and it blooms in your chest as he makes his way to you. It’s something victorious, something that tickles your ribs.

He comes to you like you’re a destination he’s been waiting all his life to reach, and you certainly, adamantly don’t acknowledge the spectacularly dizzying feeling that swallows you whole when he places a gentle hand on your arm, his voice soft as he says, “There you are. I was looking for you.”

The familiarity, it’s catastrophic.

“I was just walking around,” you tell him. “There’s not a lot to do here. I was bored.”

“You have me,” he says. Probably not in that way, but you’d like to think that’s how he means it. “I don’t have any more fires to put out. What do you want to do now?”

You glance over your surroundings, still set on your original plans. You wanted to go alone, but you suppose you can let him accompany you. You check the time on your phone before asking, “Can we go down to the beach? I wanna see if we can catch the sunset.”

You used to do this whenever you came here to visit - walk along the beach, hand in hand, sunlight in your hair and the cool breeze holding you tight in the afterglow.

The keyword here is “used to”. Now, you have to stuff your hands in your pockets just so you don’t reach for him every time you shiver.

It’s late enough in the afternoon for you to see the moon faintly shine against a blue and orange backdrop. Sun and moon, together in the same frame. It feels symbolic somehow. You’re not really sure.

“The moon looks like an egg,” Jungkook observes astutely, taking casual strides next to you. It makes you burst into easy laughter, which makes him laugh with you too. You stop walking when you reach what you think is a good spot to watch the sky.

“Let’s sit here for a bit,” you say. It’s not the greatest idea - sitting idly by would only make you colder - but you just want to stop and look at the sunset. Once you’re seated in the sand, you respond to his moon remark, “That’s true, y’know. NASA said so.”

“Yeah,” he says, settling down beside you, “you made me read that.”

You’d forgotten about it, and you didn’t think that he’d remember. It’s freezing cold and the moon looks like an egg, but you’re not thinking, and you feel safe. Nothing can hurt you here, or at least that’s what you’d like to tell yourself.

You wrap your arms around yourself to keep from shivering, but you still shiver anyways.

“Are you cold?” he asks.

“A little,” you admit. “I should’ve worn a thicker sweater. But it’s o-”

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence, just smoothly takes off his jacket to put it around your shoulders.

You put your hands atop his to stop him. When you touch him, there’s an electric tingle that almost makes you flinch. He feels warm, still resembling a human furnace.

“No, you don’t have t-”

“Take the jacket, Y/N,” he says. “It’s just a jacket.”

The jacket smells like him. It only makes you want to crawl further into the warmth.

He seems more self-assured here, that’s what you notice. More like the version of himself that he used to be. Confident, sometimes borderline cocky. Annoying but oddly endearing, you came to love that about him.

His relaxed demeanor is understandable. You’re merely a visitor here, while this is his homeground.

“I’m curious about something,” he says after a while.

“Okay.”

“What’s the deal with Wednesdays?” he asks.

“You know how they say bad things come in threes?” You purse your lips, thinking it over, feeling something bitter in your mouth as you recall the events that led to this. “My parents got divorced on a Wednesday. I moved out of mom’s house on a Wednesday. And…” You hold your knees close to your chest as you hesitate to utter this last part, “we broke up on a Wednesday.”

You see the exact moment Jungkook mentally slaps himself, paling a couple shades as he tongues his cheek, not expecting his question to inadvertently lead back to this. It wasn’t your intention to guilt trip him. It was true that he dumped you on a Wednesday, but you don’t want the mood to turn sour, to have to mull over this again. Like he said, it will still be there for you to worry about when you get back. You’re not looking forward to returning to a shitshow, but what you’d hate even more is to tarnish the memories of this place just because you can’t keep from being vindictive for not even a weekend.

“I was born on a Wednesday too, so I guess bad things come in fours sometimes,” you continue, chuckling to yourself humorlessly.

A frown appears on his face almost instantaneously. “What is that supposed to mean?”

You shrug. Jungkook turns his body toward you, which makes you spare him a glance before you return your gaze to the horizon. His face is so serious that it’s almost funny. “Y/N,” he presses. “Why would you say that?”

“C’mon, it’s a joke. I was just being self-deprecating. Lighten up.”

“Why are you talking like that?”

“Like what? Contrary to popular belief, I don’t walk around with a thundercloud over my head all the time,” you laugh lightly. “I figured if there was a day to be nice to you, it should be today. And tomorrow, I guess.”

“This is you being nice?”

Funny how just a few weeks ago, you were fighting with him and calling him a hypocrite. Now, you’re sitting together, watching the sun set, trying not to be mean to him.

“I’m not picking a fight with you,” you say. “This is nice enough.”

“It’s not even my wedding.”

“Okay.” You glance at him again, letting words flow without a single thought. “I’ll be even nicer to you on your wedding day then.”

You don’t know where that even came from, but something aches the very second the words leave your mouth. The thought of him getting married one day makes you just nauseous, even though you always knew that it was a possibility. It might even be inevitable.

You clear your throat, waving the sullen feeling away. Your body shivers then, even after the added warmth of his jacket. Maybe you’re not shivering because of the cold anymore.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes linger on the side of your face. The both of you keep tiptoeing around an elephant that follows you wherever you go.

You hug your knees close to your chest, watching the blue sky melt into the golden horizon, splattered with ribbons of cotton candy clouds.

You want to scooch closer to him and have him wrap his arm around your shoulders. This isn’t the spot where you used to draw your names in the sand, enveloped in a giant heart like two lovesick kids, but wouldn’t it be nice to imagine that it is?

“I was always really happy here,” you mumble to yourself.

You were, truly. This city was your pocket of hope, your piece of peace.

Being here brings back so many memories.

It’s the same feeling you get every time you pass by somewhere you used to live. The nostalgia of walking down the same road you used to walk every day until your shoes wore out. The familiarity of your surroundings. The bittersweetness of looking into a past you cannot hold anymore, of remembering the person you were at a certain period in your life, of knowing the things you do now that you didn’t back then.

You long for things you cannot change.

Nostalgia only grows stronger with time, you can always count on that.

He hums in agreement, before admitting quietly, “I miss you.” One pulls, the other pushes. The water wavers, like it’s touched by his words, simple but earnest. You’re touched too, somewhere in your heart, where you know you should be writing someone else’s name now.

Should?

“You’re pushing it,” you say softly.

“I know.”

You look at him. Maybe it’s because you’re back in the city that holds only good memories of you two. Maybe you’re hypnotized by the way the pink and purple hues kiss his side profile, making him feel like a fever dream and not someone you loved. Maybe it’s the cold, making you yearn for any source of warmth. But instead of returning his sentiment, you say, “It’ll pass.”

He meets your eyes. There’s something pleading in his gaze. All things pass eventually. Time moves forward, people move on. Bad things will pass sooner or later. Your worst heartbreak, your most arduous trials, your saddest moments, they will all pass.

And good things… good things will have to pass too, whether you like it or not.

Your fingers twitch from where they’re still holding onto your body. You itch to reach for his hand. You don’t tell him what he wants to hear, even though here’s a part of you that wants to say it back. In a better world, you would be telling him I love you too, instead of having to suppress an I miss you too.

“All things have to pass eventually. This will too.”

[20:05] Taebear 🐻: we could go to that bar near the gallery. Y/N likes the cocktails there [20:06] Mimi 🐥: kay kay [20:06] Mimi 🐥: soooooo next friday? [20:09] Mimi 🐥: why is y/n reading our messages. shouldn’t she be at dinner [20:09] You: i approve of the bar choice [20:11] You: if you didn’t want me reading your messages, you shouldn’t have sent them to the gc [20:11] You: and if you must know, i’m skipping dinner. i’m avoiding Jungkook’s mom [20:12] Mimi 🐥: understandable. i figured you would do that [20:13] Mimi 🐥: how’s it going? are we regretting going yet? i told you to just stay home and we could binge watch the office together [20:15] You: and EYE told you that you could be a good friend and go to this wedding with me but nooooo baby doesn’t like the cold [20:16] You: you could’ve visited your parents while you’re here you know. two birds with one stone [20:18] Mimi 🐥: babes my parents stayed with me for a whole month last month. i reached my quota for family face time [20:19] You: son and friend of the year 👏 [20:20] Mimi 🐥: 😎😎😎😘

[20:22] Taebear 🐻: hey [20:23] You: uh oh. am i in trouble? why is this not in the gc? [20:25] Taebear 🐻: lol shut up [20:26] Taebear 🐻: you okay? [20:28] You: feels like that could’ve been a perfectly good question to ask in the gc [20:29] Taebear 🐻: because it’s a serious question and we both know Jimin can’t be serious for one minute to save his life [20:32] You: why does it have to be a serious question? 🤪 [20:32] Taebear 🐻: 😕 [20:33] You: stop pouting. i’m fine [20:35] Taebear 🐻: are you? [20:36] You: i am! you don’t have to go all mama bear on me [20:39] Taebear 🐻: ha ha ha. you’re so funny [20:40] Taebear 🐻: want me to call you? [20:42] You: i said i’m fiiiiiine 🙄 [20:43] You: but also no because i told everyone i was tired and i’m pretending to be asleep in my room right now [20:43] Taebear 🐻: okay [20:43] Taebear 🐻: did you eat something at least? [20:44] You: i have a cup ramen in my room [20:45] Taebear 🐻: okay [20:46] Taebear 🐻: how was today? did JK make you wanna strangle him? [20:48] You: okay Kim Taehyung at least act like you have some faith in your friend lol [20:50] You: but mmmmmm it was ok. he was mostly behaving himself [20:51] Taebear 🐻: mostly? [20:54] You: we were down at the beach and he just told me he missed me out of the blue [20:55] You: Mimi is asking why no one is replying to him [20:57] Taebear 🐻: i can see that [20:58] Taebear 🐻: what did you tell JK? [21:01] You: i quoted fleabag to him [21:09] Taebear 🐻: i had to google that [21:10] Taebear 🐻: i still don’t know what that means [21:11] You: i know you don’t lol. you’re adorable [21:11] You: i’ll tell you when i get back. [21:13] You: ok bye i have to sleep early or i’ll look like ass in the morning [21:14] Taebear 🐻: oh. okay [21:15] Taebear 🐻: sleep tight. remember not to gorge yourself on booze tomorrow [21:17] You: thanks for the reminder. love you mom 🙄💕 [21:17] Taebear 🐻: :) [21:20] Taebear 🐻: you won’t look like ass btw

You clocked out right after you told Taehyung that you would. It wasn’t a peaceful sleep though. The anxiety simmering in your belly woke you up a few times throughout the night. You don’t even know why you were anxious. It’s not like you were the one who was about to walk down the aisle.

When morning finally came and you managed to untangle yourself from the surprising comfort of your familiar bed, you practically dragged your feet for the subsequent two hours, trying to get ready. As if that would actually slow down the passage of time.

You had to compartmentalize the things you needed to do in a mental checklist. Makeup. Hair. Dress. Stare at yourself in the mirror for half an hour and internally freak out while waiting for Jungkook to come get you from your room.

Now you’re sitting in the wedding hall, watching people filter into the room. It’s not even a lot of people, but you’re still overwhelmed regardless.

You feel so exposed, even though he’s the only one looking at you in this room of strangers. He’s been looking at you like that ever since he first saw you this morning, in a dress that you got just days before the wedding. You still don’t know if it’s entirely appropriate for your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s wedding - maybe a bit revealing - but it was the only one you could find on such short notice.

When you tried on the dress for Taehyung and Jimin a few days ago, Taehyung said you looked beautiful. Jimin said you looked decent, “six point five out of ten,” which translated to “pretty nice” in Jimin-lingo. That would’ve been enough if you were going to any other wedding, not one where Jungkook would also be attending.

You had wanted him to see you and regret ever leaving you.

It was a silly thought, just a tad adolescent.

You had wanted him to see you in your dress and be consumed with thoughts of you until he couldn’t even see straight. To be the only thing on his mind, you didn’t think it was a lot to ask for.

That was before he told you not to think about it and you’d been convinced to just go with the flow just for two days. It was before he actually did see you earlier today in your dress - a simple midnight blue satin cowl neck with a slit in the thigh - but you were the one rendered helpless and speechless. He had stared at you for a minute when he came to walk you down from your room, then he’d said, all breathless even though both of you were just standing there, “You’re beautiful.”

You’re beautiful, not You look beautiful.

You don’t know why, but you appreciated it.

It made your cheeks burn underneath your artificial rosy blush. Stupid, you thought to yourself when you two made your way to the main hall. Stupid for letting yourself get dizzy because of a single compliment from him.

You’re seated with his parents, which makes sense because you don’t know anybody here except for them. Well, maybe you know one of his cousins whose kid you and Jungkook used to babysit whenever their family was in the city, but you doubt that he even remembers you anymore.

When the ceremony begins, your heart instantly feels like it’s about to drop to the pit of your stomach.

You can’t lie to yourself. It stings.

It stings just sitting here next to his parents like a daughter-in-law, like a member of their family, watching his brother solidify his happy ending.

It stings that Jungkook is standing up there, looking as handsome as ever, but his eyes aren’t on the couple. They keep flickering to you no matter how much you try to pretend that they don’t.

It stings that even though you don’t think about marriage often - or maybe you just don’t allow yourself to - you can’t deny that the thought does cross your mind from time to time. Any time that you’d wander the corridors inside your head, you’d pass the doors that you keep unopened on purpose but there’s always that one door marked with a bright red X that you can never sidestep.

You watch Junghyun and Sooji with their teary smiles and shaky hands, shaky but happy. There’s a sudden clarity that this could’ve been you and him in another life. Forever is a lie, but you would’ve perjured yourself a thousand times for him. I do - you would’ve meant it.

You imagine yourself in Sooji’s place, and Jungkook, standing right on the other side, holding both your hands in his. A beautiful and radiant bride terrified of the altar. A dashing groom with a smile that could rival the sun and shoulders weighing heavier than he lets on.

It would’ve looked clumsy, but it could’ve been right.

You wonder if he’s wondering the same thing. Maybe he is. You hope he is.

When the ceremony ends with a kiss shared between the newlyweds, you wipe away the tears that well up in your eyes. The people around you do the same thing, but they’re doing it for the right reason, out of genuine joy for the happy couple. You don’t think you can say the same for yourself.

Some of the bridesmaids fawn over him. It’s reasonable, you suppose. One tends to do that in the presence of Jeon Jungkook.

You watch as they come up to him one by one to ask him to dance, watch as he politely declines until they’re all stalking away with similar pouts on their faces. You watch him until his eyes lock on you, sitting at a table near the back, nursing a glass of champagne.

He weaves himself with ease through the people making their way to the dance floor. When he’s in front of you, he holds out a hand.

“Dance with me?” he asks, his doe eyes working overtime to lure you in with their sparkles, though you’d rather stay here where you can easily go unnoticed until the night ends. “One song?”

“I don’t know how,” you say, even as you’re taking his hand and standing up.

“I showed you how, remember?”

“That was a long time ago.”

He squeezes you reassuringly. “Just follow my lead,” he says, walking the both of you to the floor. “C’mon.”

Once the music starts, your heels stomp on his feet at least three times before you start finding the beat to move along to. Muscle memory, or whatever, is bullshit. You remember absolutely nothing of what he showed you.

You’re grateful that the song is slow, because it makes it easier for you to follow the beat with your two left feet. He takes one of your hands in his, the other settling on the small of your back, guiding you to move in a steady rhythm.

You feel his mother’s eyes on the two of you, because she must be somewhere nearby, watching you like a hawk. You feel his gaze on your face while you keep yours on the knot of his tie, just trying to keep your composure and to not step on his feet with your heels.

The blur of white that you catch from the periphery of your vision makes you turn your head. Sooji and Junghyun are close by, swaying together slowly to the soft music, both of them glowing with happiness. She must sense your eyes on her, because she lifts her gaze up to meet yours. She smiles at the sight of you and Jungkook, and you smile back, because you don’t know how else to respond to that.

You don’t say it, but you do think it. Your fingers tighten around his hand ever so slightly.

Could that have been us?

If the answer is yes, then it would hurt.

If the answer is no, then it would hurt.

The point of your story is that it’s painful however you choose to look at it. There’s no other way to frame it. It’s just painful, because you’re never going to get any of it back.

You bite your lip, then turn away from the happy couple but you still don’t look at Jungkook. You look at your hand in his, and that’s when you see it.

“How’d you get that?” you ask, gently tracing the inch of slightly raised skin on his knuckles. You never noticed the scar until now.

“It was four years ago, I think? After Taehyung and I almost got into a fight, I went outside and… punched a wall,” he says, wincing as he recalls the memory.

His answer takes you aback. “You and Taehyung got into a fight?”

“Almost,” he corrects. “It was a long time ago. Didn’t they tell you?”

“No, they didn’t say anything. What happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“If it was really nothing, you wouldn’t have punched a wall.” You frown. It makes you miss a few beats, but the song isn’t what’s important now, even if Jungkook is still trying to steer you back into the dance. “Taehyung isn’t violent. You aren’t violent.”

“I’m serious,” he says finally. “It’s nothing. We were just drunk and stupid.”

You know there must be more to it, that something must have happened or been said to trigger such a reaction from both of them. But you also know that you won’t probably get anything out of Jungkook if he doesn’t want to tell you.

You give up, for now. “Fine. If you say so.” You’ll just have to weasel it out of Jimin later.

The song comes to an end, before another one comes on. If Jungkook remembers that he only asked for one song, maybe he’s counting his blessings that you’re still here and dancing with him, because he doesn’t mention it.

For some reason, you pull your hand away from his, only to slide up his shoulder to lock both of your hands behind his neck. He seems surprised, but he does the same around your waist.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers to your lips briefly, then back to your eyes again. You find yourself doing the same and wonder what he tastes like after all the time you’ve been apart. Is he still as sweet as you remember? You used to tease that it was because of the excessive sugar he put in everything, but you knew it was really just him. The few inches between you are so inviting that it’s practically tempting you to close the gap. You could, easily in fact. Blame it on one too many glasses of champagne later if you want.

He looks younger like this, like the boy you loved, starry eyes and dimpled smile. His shoulders are always the most comfortable resting place, the crook of his neck your long lost home. This is nice, you think, to see him again even though it feels like a fever dream. Memories of your first date, your first kiss, come to life before your eyes so realistically that you could almost touch them.

Loved? That sounds funny to you.

The people you used to be, souls wrapped in innocence, when the world was nothing but the arms of the person you loved. You reach out, and the memories quickly fade from view. The only trace they leave behind is a speck of gold on your fingertips, a memento of charming naiveté for you to tuck neatly away in the corner of your mind, but also a reminder that ah, they only exist in the locket of your heart now. Because he has changed, and you think you must have too. Life, as they say, goes on.

“We made it. Kind of. That’s crazy,” you find yourself saying.

“Did we?”

“You don’t think so?” you chuckle. “We’re in a group chat with the Kim Seokjin who spams it with bad jokes on a daily basis. I’d call that a win.”

That makes him laugh. “If you put it like that, yeah, maybe. Sure.”

Other people might be fooled, but it doesn’t sound at all convincing to you. The light doesn’t really reach his eyes. You bite the inside of your cheek, thinking of how to translate the sudden poignant turn of the moment.

“It isn’t everything you hoped it’d be?” you ask.

His shoulders rise then fall quickly in a second-long shrug. “I thought it would make me feel more… fulfilled. But it doesn’t. Not really.”

The way he says it and the way he’s looking at you makes your heart dive. You understand what he means. You’re good at what you do, and you don’t need reassurance from anyone to recognize that. But sometimes, it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. Doesn’t feel like it’s real, like it’s validated.

When you landed your first big project, even before Yoongi, you were so proud of yourself. You were bursting with excitement but you weren’t happy, and you knew what the reason was. Something was missing that couldn’t be filled, not even with all your friends’ hundreds of messages of encouragement.

It’s beyond stupid, this feeling like your wins amount to nothing at all just because of one person. You wanted him there to celebrate every achievement with you and he wasn’t, and the milestones seemed incomplete without the presence of him. It doesn’t feel like you’ve accomplished anything because this always used to be a dream you thought you’d make come true together.

“It’s lonely,” he concludes.

It sounds like he feels the same way, like he wanted you to be there too.

He suddenly holds you tighter than you think he needs to, like he’s afraid to let go of you. You imagine that he doesn’t want to let go of you, and it makes you feel better for a second. But it doesn’t change the fact that he still did in the end. And he will have to when this ends.

What was the point of this? Why did he bring this upon yourselves when he seems to be as hurt as you are? All of this time, all of these years, lost to what? You could’ve been happy together but instead, you were both lost and miserable.

When the music stops - you lost count of how many songs it’s been - you pull away from him. He looks disappointed, maybe even a little hurt for some reason.

“I’m gonna get some air,” you say, already turning away from him.

“Y/N-”

“I need some air.” Then you’re weaving through the dancing couples despite Jungkook calling your name. How did he manage it? How did he not look back when you called out for him?

You hastily grab your coat on the way out. It’s not going to keep you warm, but that’s not something you’re even remotely concerned with.

It’s everywhere, you feel it down to your bones.

The wind wraps itself tightly around you, intertwining in your hair, slipping through the cracks of your fingers, caressing your face in a chilling touch. You greet the cold like a long lost sister, shivering violently with nostalgia. It was there for you more than your own flesh and blood.

Is that why you like the sea at night? Because it reminds you of mom?

It’s dark out here, barely anything is visible except for a lighthouse sending out light in the quiet of the night. You can’t see much, but you can certainly hear it. You’re not sure if the music is coming from inside the venue, or if it’s still ringing in your ears. It’s probably the latter; you’re too far away to be able to catch the music anyway. But regardless, the tune is quickly drowned out by the sea.

The waves crash violently against the shore like it’s out for blood. There’s a magnetic pull, as if it’s calling out for you. You want to go to it, to reach out and feel the cold outside of your body for once, but you stay there despite your legs itching to stand up and run straight ahead. Into the water and down under.

You could lie down and close your eyes for a moment. The sound of the water, as sharp and brutal as it is, nurtures a part of you somehow.

You just want to be alone. You don’t want to talk to Taehyung, or Jimin, or even Yoongi.

Oh.

Yoongi.

It’s a terrible feeling, knowing that you’re going to hurt Yoongi. Knowing that you’re going to kill this even before it has a chance to truly begin.

Truth be told, you can’t envision a future with Yoongi. There isn’t anything wrong with him, because he’s not the problem here. Yoongi is fun, he’s considerate, he keeps things light on purpose for you, until you’re ready to initiate something more serious. He’s good for you, even Taehyung thinks so.

But you can’t love Yoongi, not in the way that he wants you to. Not more than you love Jungkook.

There you go. Ruining things again.

Did you ruin Jungkook? Is that what happened?

The layers on you are no match for the sea at night. The wind hisses relentlessly, biting at any part of your skin that’s exposed.

It takes you back to that night. Almost everything does, actually.

Maybe that’s why you never even stopped to consider starting anything with anyone, because it always ends. If there’s a beginning, then there will be an inevitable ending. Love isn’t made to last and you aren’t meant to carry love with you. You’ve been abandoned twice. If it happens a third time, it’s a pattern, and then your hypothesis will only be proven. That the problem here is you.

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t wondered when it’ll finally be Taehyung’s turn to leave. He eventually will, right? That one’s gonna hurt.

Then, you’re startled when someone calls your name.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks. The wind and the waves masked the sound of his footsteps walking up to you. When you turn around to face him, his eyes grow worried, almost panicked. “Why are you crying?”

You breathe out irritatedly before you hastily wipe at your cheeks. You didn’t even realize that you’d been crying. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine,” you say, though you both know it’s a lie. “I’m just tired. I’m going up to my room.”

He catches your wrist in a firm grip when you try to walk away. You wish he’d just leave you alone, but you knew he wouldn’t drop it just like that.

“I said I’m fine,” you insist.

“You were crying,” he says. “Did I do something wrong?”

He didn’t, at least not tonight.

God, you really don’t want to do this right now.

“Jungkook,” you warn. “Let go of me.”

You try to free yourself from his grip, hoping that he’ll get the hint and back off for now. Instead, he pulls you into his chest, where you struggle to escape from his hold until you realize your efforts are futile. He takes the wind’s place, wound tightly around you, so tightly that it’s nearly impossible for you to move.

You hiss out his name, but he doesn’t budge.

“Jungkook, can you just- Fuck!”

Damn him.

You realize he’s not giving up, which in turn makes you give up struggling, hoping that if you let this be a moment, then it’ll be something that can pass.

You’re just standing there, letting him hold you, letting yourself be held by the person who broke you in the first place. This feels exactly like where you’re supposed to be - in his arms, with your face hidden in the crook of his neck, his gentle fingers stroking your hair. There’s not a lot that you could do but lean into that feeling the same way you lean into him. One foot in the sand, one foot in the past. A hand on the doorknob of time, wondering if you should look back or look forward.

You want to be alone, but that never used to apply with him.

The wind stills, the sea calms. You remain unmoving too, locked in his embrace. You feel the faint rhythm of his heart, beating faster than you think it should. If you could, you would bottle this moment up and live there forever.

I miss you, you think.

I miss you.

Then your arms are around him too. It only makes him hold you tighter, and all you can think about is how much you miss him, how painful it is to miss him, how you feel like you’re being pulled apart at the seams from the weight of missing him.

Fuck.

Can you pretend that the last few years never happened? Is there a higher power that would allow you to go back to the night before that wretched Wednesday, when everything was still perfect? Hundreds of days of your life, can you pretend that it was just one long nightmare? When you wake up, you’ll be back in his humble apartment, tangled up together in his bed. Warm sunlight, your silken youth, and him. It was all you ever needed.

Again with the devastating familiarity. The city, the beach. His mother’s warmth that always made you reminisce about your own mother’s coldness. How Jungkook used to find you in moments like this and just stayed by your side until the dejection passed. He understood that he could never understand it the way you did.

You hear yourself sniffle, then you feel him press a kiss into your hair. Home is comforting.

Oh, you never want to leave.

You don’t want to leave, and that’s terrifying.

You allow yourself to stay there for one more second - one endless second - so you could commit to memory what it’s like to be with him. Back and forth. It’s always so easy to fall into him.

Jungkook releases you when he feels you loosen after a while, and you reluctantly meet his eyes as he tilts your head to face him. His fingers cradling your jaw, how warm and delicate they feel on your skin.

You swallow thickly, your mind going blank. He’s the only person you see, the only one that matters. His eyes flicker south, and even then you don’t make any move to run away, despite his loose grip on your waist telling you that you can if you want to.

You told him that it would pass, and maybe for him, it will. For him, it’s the city and the moment, making him feel like he’s caught up in a page that he’s turned over a long time ago. He was fine with leaving, and he’s been fine without you. It will pass for him, as much as it hurts you to admit it.

But not for you. For you, there’s only him. There’s nobody else but him. It’s always been him, no matter how hard you try to tell yourself that there will be another person you can love as much as you love Jungkook. You might only be a page, perhaps even a chapter, in the story of his life, but he’s your entire book. He’s volume after volume after volume, until he takes up the whole shelf and leaves no room for anything else, not even for yourself.

And now here he is - at the biggest turn in your career.

He’s a bad blood cell you can’t ever get rid of.

You’ll never be able to truly let go of him. How could you? When you truly love someone, those feelings will carry on forever. They’ll always have a piece of your heart despite an ending. When you look back on a certain period in your life, you’ll think to yourself, You’ll always be a part of me. I loved you then.

But Jungkook is a force of nature. He has your whole heart.

Years and years from now, when you look back on your life, you know you’ll see him everywhere. Even when you’re old and gray, and when faces all just blur together in a mosaic of broken memories and long lost youth, you know you’ll still remember him - the person you loved, the one whom you let slip through your fingers. The great love of your life when you were young.

Sometimes, you regret that day. You can’t help feeling like it was your fault too. Maybe you should’ve tried harder to keep him. You should’ve fought harder, should’ve held onto him instead of standing there and watching him leave.

He lit the match, and you let the house burn. It takes two to tango, two to break a heart.

You’re quick to let people leave. Oh, how you wish it could be that easy to let them go too.

It isn’t until your eyes mimic the flicker of his gaze that he leans in. You meet him halfway. For the first time in years, you feel like you could breathe, truly breathe. It’s achingly slow, like neither of you can believe that this is happening.

You sigh against his mouth when his tongue brushes your bottom lip, slips past the seal to devour you. It feels like a perfect dream. You could stay in this bubble with him forever, pretend that you’re the only two people who exist in the world and there’s nothing else, no one else, waiting for you in a city that seems so far away right now. The thought of him never left you, not even for a second. He’s always been with you everywhere you go, no matter what you do, always in the back of your mind.

He tastes like your youth, like remembrance. He kisses you like he’s still yours when deep down you know that you’re still his. The hand on your jaw is gentle but firm, and it makes you repeat a thought, I miss you.

Then a feeling, I love you.

Not then. Now.

I love you now.

I love you even when I shouldn’t. Even when it hurts. Even when you leave me. Even when you don’t love me more than I love you. If there comes a day where you love somebody else, I will still love you then. There will never be another person for me but you. My first and only love.

When he pulls away, you think it’s too quick, even though your lungs are grateful for the breath that you instantly inhale. You stare at his lips like you’re in a daze, mesmerized, wanting to chase them again. You don’t even know how you have it in yourself to utter these next words, but you hear your own voice saying them anyway.

You’re holding onto him now. Doesn’t that count?

“Let’s…” Your fingers tighten on the collar of his dress shirt. “Let’s go up to your room.”

note (2): so... what do we think?? will they?? won't they?? 😵 stay tuned for obs7.5 which will be dropping 29.09.2023! also i'm gonna pause obs muse asks for a little bit! 😬

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sleepy-wyvern · 1 year

Text

His Hummingbird (Miguel O'Hara x female!reader smut)

{Angsty smut oneshot}

Available: here on Tumblr and AO3

WC: ~2.2k [oneshot]

Synopsis: You're a human female who has a boyfriend from another dimension; Spider-Man 2099. Miguel visits your apartment late at night as a surprise after not seeing him for a week.

I HAD TO GET THIS IDEA OUT OF MY HEAD BEFORE I COULD FOCUS ON OTHER FICS IM SORRY ;-;

Inspirations: the song Hummingbird by Metro Bloomin and James Blake and you know the fang scene… man definitely bites 👀

A/N: If y’all want/request more I may write more, otherwise this is a one shot ❤️ leave a comment or reblog if you liked.

Warnings/tags: Angst, Smut (18+ Minors DNI), hickies (lotsa biting), fingering, light begging from reader, p in v (condom), light male whimpering

Disclaimer: I borrowed my spanglish friend for some of the translations here. Feel free to send an ask or comment if something feels off.

Enjoy!

The moon shone bright through the heavy clouds as you wondered where your spider was.

Fighting crime, defeating evil, saving lives, all nothing you could complain about. Another universe, another day, another “business trip.” He used that phrase to try and make you feel better but it couldn’t take away from the fact that one day he may not return. Perhaps if things went bad enough you wouldn’t ever be able to know what happened to him, just spending the rest of your life waiting for someone who would never return. You tried your best to shove the thought away as you fiddled with the window latch.

You pushed open the window widely to get whatever cool night air you could in your little city apartment. As the hot summer days neared closer you took solace in the cold rainy night. The sound of the rain and the city traffic was oddly comforting.

You turned and walked toward the kitchen sink opposite of the room figuring you'd at least try to get some chores done. It was a small-ish apartment the size of a hotel room really. The biggest room was the merged kitchen and living room. Still, it was familiar enough space for you to sense the presence behind you.

The moment you turned your back you heard the window blinds gently tap against the window pane; anyone else would’ve thought that had been the wind. Anyone else without a spider person lover anyways.

“Do spiders ever use the door?” You spoke without turning around, instead you turned the faucet on to do the dishes.

“You should start locking that window at night,” his gruff voice was directly behind you.

“Miguel,” you sighed, twisting the tap off before turning around.

It had been a week since his last visit, the longest ever since you started “seeing” each other. You hadn’t put a label on anything yet, what could you call a lover from another dimension that could never stay with you?

Every time you saw him after a prolonged period you were intimidated by how he stood over you. He hadn’t meant to be intimidating as his mask was already removed, yet it was hard to ignore his height and size of his build especially when he had to look down at you.

“Nobody can enter a 4th story window,” you smiled. “Just you.”

Despite that you were angry he was gone for so long your heart melted at the sight of his brown locks falling gracefully over his forehead. He wore his blue and red spider suit as he always did when traveling.

He wrapped his large arms around your waist, pulling you close into his hot embrace. He planted a kiss on your forehead.

“Te extrañé…” He trailed off as he pulled back to look into your eyes.

He held his hands against your face when you eyed his bracelet; the thing that let him stay here with you without “glitching out.” It was a grim reminder of what could never be. Despite the comfort you got from his rough hands against your soft face, it made you sad.

“I missed you too,” you sighed, overlapping his hand with your smaller one.

The bracelet was cool to the touch as you frowned. “Where have you been?” You scolded, “You told me you’d be back by Monday. It’s Friday!”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed furrowing his brows. “It’s work.”

“It always is,” You turn around putting your hands on the smooth countertop.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he offered, sounding sad and hopeful.

You knew he didn’t mean to make you worry or make you sad. You both wished things were different. It would make it so much easier. You knew though that if he could change things he would and you didn’t want to hold what was out of his control against him. It wasn’t his fault you were born in different worlds, different universes. It didn’t help that you weren’t a spider person either.

You felt his hands gently against your waist as he moved closer to you.

“I'm sorry." He sighed. "Mi pequeña colibrí…” he whispered into your ear. His breath was hot and heavy against your neck sending shivers down your body.

“Oh stop, you can’t use the español to make me feel better! No fair!” You laughed.

He placed a kiss on your ear that tickled before you spun back around, wrapping your arms over his shoulders.

“My spiderman,” You giggled as his look of concern melted into happiness. "I'm not mad at you. Just try to let me know if you'll be late next time."

The corner of his lips turned upward ever so slightly in relief. "I promise."

Another thing that was likely yours only; Miguel’s smile. When Jessica met you she was surprised you were even real. She warned you to not mention much of Miguel’s personal life activities to the other spider people but it was hard to remember. Once you accidentally mentioned the flowers on your table were from Miguel to Gwen she nearly fainted. You adored the way he treated you special even if you weren’t sure why he chose you. You could never be mad at him for something he couldn't control.

He brushed his thumbs in a circular motion against your waist as he held you. His dark eyes were full of love as he looked down at you.

You ran your fingers back through his brown hair. He seemed to sigh beneath your touch, it was thrilling in a way to know he was comfortable enough around you to let his guard down. Nobody else could see Miguel the way you did.

“You need to stop being so stressed. Relax more.” You sighed bringing your fingers to his forehead. “Grumpy wrinkles.”

He chuckled low as he held you tightly. He brought his face down into your neck to inhale the sweet scent of your perfume that he loved so much.

“I know what helps with that,” his voice was deep and silky and fuck it made your body melt.

You giggled as his sweet kisses turned into loving nibbles. He was careful to not hurt you with his fangs but he knew how much you loved his gentle biting. You had a hunch he loved it as much as you did. On top of that it’s been a week without it and damn you missed him.

You let his touch overwhelm you as he held you, softly biting against your delicate skin. His body tensed against you the moment you let out a small pleasurable gasp.

“Hm,” He huffed deeply as he pulled back. “I forgot my strength. I’m sorry, mi colibrí.”

He brought his fingers up to your neck, wiping away the wetness before examining the hickie left behind.

“That’s what makeup is for,” you reassured. “Now, you have a week to make up for…”

“No better time to start than now,” he knocked off the stack of papers that were laying on the countertop.

Before you could react he grabbed your hips, lifting you into the air. You let out a faint gasp as you wrapped your legs around him.

“Miguel!” You scolded as he smirked at you, placing you on the empty countertop space. “Naughty, what has become of you?” You teased him.

“You have become of me,” he pressed his hot lips against yours hungrily.

He brought his hands around to the back of your head holding you close so he could kiss you deeply. It wasn’t long before you could feel his cool tongue against your lips. You opened your mouth letting him in, his cold mouth meeting your warm one.

You brought your hands to his shoulders feeling the fabric of his suit. Eagerly you moved your fingers to his back, grasping for the zipper. You rotated between feeling the muscles of his back and fumbling with the damn zipper making your kisses turn sloppy.

“Eager aren’t we?” He laughed low and deep in his throat, it wasn’t a mocking tone. In fact you knew he loved it.

He shimmied his shoulders out of the suit and it took all of your power not to basically drool over him. You wasted no time bringing your hands to feel his hot skin, tracing your fingers lovingly over the scars on his chest.

You buried your fingers in his hair as your lips met again. The man loves to kiss you, almost as much as he loves to bite you. He took the opportunity to switch to biting your neck whenever you pulled back to breathe.

He slowly brought his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, running his calloused fingers along your silky smooth torso. You separated from him only long enough to remove the pesky fabric of your top before diving back into him again.

You could feel the bulge in his underwear against your leg as he leaned forward to undo the clasp of your bra. He brought his large hands to your breasts lovingly cupping and massaging them. Goosebumps rose against his skin at the sound of your soft, lustful moans.

“More baby,” you whispered.

He brought his lips to your nipple, his hair tickling your chest. You tilted your head down letting yourself get lost in the scent of his shampoo while he planted wet kisses against your stiff nipple. His grabs on your body slowly turned more rough as you felt his teeth against your skin.

“More,” you demand. It’s been a week and damn you wanted him more than anything.

He hooked his fingers underneath the soft fabric of your leggings and panties as you shimmied to help. Your body shivered as the fabric pooled to the floor. Miguel looked at your body with a mixture of awe and hunger- a deep lust filled hunger.

He brought his index and middle finger to your entrance, smiling when he felt how wet you were.

“You really did miss me huh, mi pequeña colibrí?”

You nodded “mmm’, yes I did. Need you, Miguel.” You whined feeling him circle your entrance.

He wasn’t cruel to make you wait as he plunged his fingers in. Your back arched as you gasped, spreading your legs desperate for him deeper. Feeling his fingers arch against your walls and watching the movements of his wrist as he pleased you was intoxicating.

Still you wanted more.

“Please, baby,” you whimpered.

Your body whined when he stopped and pulled his fingers out.

“What is it, cariño?” His voice purred. He brought his fingers to his lips, rolling his tongue over your sweetness.

“You,” your lip quivered as you shuddered from the cool apartment air. “Please.”

You knew this was a game he could normally play for a long time. Not today though, neither of you could handle it. Instead your heart raced as he nodded to the kitchen drawer where you kept the condoms since counter sex had become a more regular activity.

He brought his large, hard cock out of his boxers, stroking lightly. You swallowed at the sight wondering how you could ever take him.

He smirked at your expression “are you afraid?”

You shook your head, reaching your hands out to his broad shoulders trying to bring him closer. You fumbled with the condom, bringing your hands to his hot cock. He gasped lightly as your hands held him him, rolling the condom down over him.

He lined his tip against your entrance, soaking himself in your juices and teasing you just a little.

“Are you ready?” He whispered and for the first time tonight you heard his voice start to shake.

You bit your lip as you nodded “I am.”

He slowly slid himself in as you let out a moan of tight, firey pressure. The moment he was fully inside you both let out a gasp; you both waited so long for this moment. You wrapped your arms around him as he buried his face in the crook of your neck while you got used to the feeling of all of him inside.

He waited for you to nod and give him the okay to continue. He planted a kiss on your cheek as he pulled out slightly before thrusting in again. You spread your legs further apart, moaning at the next deeper thrust. You grasped at the muscles of his back for an anchor.

“Just like that, cariño,” He whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

He thrusted against, harder and faster as you felt your pleasure start to build. He kept a lovely, steady pace and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you reached your climax.

“Oh Miguel,” you moaned, making him shiver. “Baby, I’m close.”

You grasped at his back desperate to have more of him. His heavy breaths and grunts sent electricity through you while his cock pressed lovingly against that sweet spot.

“Don’t move,” his voice was a quiet whimper while you held him.

Fuck, hearing him whimper always sent you feral but you did your best to keep still while he pounded into your tight cunt. Your back arched as the waves of pleasure crashed down into a lovely orgasm.

“You feel so good,” he whispered in your ear.

You knew he was close and you wrapped your legs around him not letting him go.

“I’m, I’m-“ his voice broke off as you felt his cock twitch inside of you.

His arms held you tightly to him as you were wrapped around him lovingly. The heat of your bodies, the feeling of his heart beating and the rise and fall of his chest as he heavily breathed through the pleasure… Despite that soon he’d have to leave again these moments are what make it worth it.

"Te amo," his voice was a husky whisper as he held you.

For now, you got to enjoy the warm embrace of your spider.

===

💙💙💙💙

Thanks so much for reading, let me know if you enjoyed with any comments/reblogs, I appreciate them all!

-Wyv

#miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel x female!reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x female!reader smut #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x female!reader #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o'hara imagine #fan fic #fan fics #fan fiction #fan fictions

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hanniedream · 2 months

Note

YEEEEEEE IM SO PROUD AND HAPPY TO SEE YOU WRITE AGAIN

Woozi + "is this okay?"+ possibly first romantic interaction (kiss, hand holding, 👀, etc)

I LOVE YOUUUU

cherrrrryyyyy! thank you, i love you 🥺♥️

also, in my mind this is the same couple as this but can be read as a standalone.

it's been a while since jihoon has felt this nervous, his palms are sweaty, he feels like his heart is about to jump out of his chest, he feels slightly nauseous — not in a bad way, if that's possible.

"oh god, what if i throw up?" he thinks as he looks at you sitting across the table from him, looking as beautiful as ever and you seem to be glowing.

he brings the glass of iced water up to his lips with a trembling hand and starts to gulp it down. "okay, calm down. just act like how you normally would." he reminds himself.

you notice him being more restless than usual and throw a concerned glance his way, "you alright?"

this date with you is something he has been wanting for the longest time, since the two of you became close friends, and he wants everything to go perfectly because you deserve nothing less.

he places the glass back down on the table with a nod and his lips curl up in a quick smile. "yeah, just kinda nervous."

you let out a little laugh and he thinks it's the most melodious sound he has ever heard. it's the kind of sound that makes flowers bloom and birds sing. a warmth spreads across his entire body when you reach out to cover his hand with yours.

"hey, don't be nervous," your voice is soft and your eyes are gentle. "it's just me."

he flips his hand around to intertwine your fingers together, "it's because it's you that i'm nervous."

all you do is squeeze his fingers reassuringly and jihoon feels like everything is right in the world. this is where you both belong, together.

dinner went smoothly and now he's walking you home, your hand fitting perfectly in his. there's a cool breeze and the night is beautiful with a few stars twinkling in the dark sky and the moon is bright and round.

before you know it, you're both standing in front of your building. jihoon is tempted to ask if you want to go around the block again but it would be the third time and it's getting kind of late so he has to let you go.

"i had a lot of fun tonight," there's a coyness in your voice and jihoon thinks it's adorable. "thank you."

"i enjoyed being with you tonight too." he brushes his thumbs up and down the back of your hands. "it's getting late now, you should get in."

"i probably should," but he doesn't let go of your hands and you don't move away either.

jihoon's eyes land on your lips and all he can think about is how soft and nice they would feel on his own and before he realises, he's pulling you towards him and you're letting him.

he gives you a light peck then you hear him asking in a small voice, "is this okay?"

the last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable by crossing any boundaries.

"it's more than okay," you lean in again and his plush lips move against yours slowly and you think you've never felt anything better than this. neither of you want to stop but you were starting to get breathless.

jihoon's cheeks are flushed when you both break apart. "it's cold, you should go inside," he lets go of your hands reluctantly.

you nod then press a quick kiss to the corner of his lips. "goodnight, jihoon."

he watches as you turn around to go into your building and he thinks he's never been happier than he's been tonight.

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pupyuj · 8 months

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thinking about extrenely dubcon g!p stalker wonyoung (who so happens to be your blockmate) breaking into your house late at night and yes😁

i held off on posting this for the longest time bcs tbh, i never rlly knew where i stood with noncon/dubcon even though i say in my pinned that i do write about it??? yea IK weird but it's been quite some time since i finished this and i can now actually write these kinds of things without flinching so! ANYWAY, i like it when you guys make wony a pathetic loser it's so fun... except that she's a bit creepy here but whatever.

[cw: g!p, stralker!wony, perv!wony, dubcon/noncon (it really was teetering the line...), breeding]

FUCK . okay so wony being so obsessively in love with you since the day you sat beside her in your first day of classes, but can't bring herself to talk to you bcs you just radiated pure sunshine energy that it blinds her too much so she settles with following you around, stalking you irl and online??? when she's sitting beside you, she's sneaking pics of what's hiding underneath your skirt... and you're always talking to people so you don't really notice your pretty seatmate lowering her phone and snapping a couple pics of your panties... she uses those pics to get off for sure.. she moans your name so loudly while stroking her cock, wishing that she had the courage to just fucking grab you, bend you over your desk, and pound your pretty pussy in front of the entire class... but poor wony has to be satisfied with just looking at you from a distance. a very, very close distance...

omg but like, wony eavesdropping in one of the conversations you have with your friends.. and she finds out that you're a virgin 🤭 but then she gets upset bcs your friends started teasing you about some girl who you were talking to in that way and how you weren't going to be a virgin for very long now... oh god, wony got sooo mad 😤😤 she saw you first!! therefore she deserves to be your first!! she firmly believed that nobody will ever be able to fuck you as good as she can... and she wanted to prove this so naturally, wony breaks inside your house dead in the night... feeling her heart beating so loud not out of anxiety or fear of being caught, but because your scent was everywhere... wony could just lay down in your living for the entire night and just bask in your sweet scent.. but she was here on a mission 👀

wony making her way inside your bedroom with exactly zero noise??? she stares at your face for a while, breathing heavily and her hands already unbuckling her belt and removing her pants dkshscnhsjgh 😵‍💫😵‍💫 wony climbing onto your bed with her cock just . out, stirring you awake... and ofc you were going to freak the fuck out bcs who the hell was in your house?! but wony was quick to cover your mouth with her hand and shush you, "it's me... it's me, (y/n)... it's wonyoung. i won't hurt you... just don't scream." but you were so fucking scared bcs you didn't know her!!

wony keeping her hand on your mouth bcs she knew you wouldn't keep quiet... leaning down to kiss your neck despite your resistance, her moaning at the way your skin tastes on her lips?!! wony finding your sweet spot and making you moan accidentally,, and she's so happy bcs she thinks you're liking it but fuck you were in tears bcs what the hell was she going to do to you??? ☹️ "i couldn't bear the thought of not being your first time... so i'm getting to you before that girl..." she says and finally you realized that that thing that was pressed up against your stomach was her dick... again, you started freaking out—kicking, squirming, scratching at wony's arms and trying to push her away but she was unexpectedly strong :(( "i'm gonna fuck you, (y/n)... i'm gonna fuck you and you're gonna love it.. you're gonna love me." and then she swiftly pulls your shorts n panties off and slams her cock in your cunt :(((

wony's hand in your mouth muffling your pained moans as she thrusted into you :(( "i-i know it hurts but.. ohh, fuck, so g-good... it'll feel better in a bit, i p-promise.. mhm...!" wony starting to quicken her pace and forcing her cock deeper inside you bcs she wanted to feel your cunt envelope her entire length :((( n then you're crying and sobbing bcs it hurt so bad but then... wony starts hitting a few good spots and you find yourself moaning out of pleasure instead of pain... all of this was so wrong.. wony didn't ask for your permission, wasn't being gentle at all, and she was restraining you... but fuck, her cock was such a perfect fit in your tight little pussy and you wanted more...

"see...? it feels nice, r-right? fuck... i'll g-go faster.. wanna ruin you so bad..." wony grips your hip with her one hand and started pounding into you so much harder and faster that you screamed into her palm... wony was starting to get hurt by the way you hit her arm and clawed at her skin so she pinned both of your hands above your head... she doesn't care that people could probably hear you screaming and crying,, your voice was akin to that of an angel, she could listen to you all day!

sobbing while wony was marking you up :(( begging for her to stop bcs it was hurting you,, and you told her she was hurting you but she refused to listen,,, only kissing your tears away and expecting you to take everything like a good girl... so you had to :(( it goes on for a while... her going in and out of you, her groans, your cries being the only thing that was heard throughout the house... you finally coming all over wony's cock and not knowing that you did bcs wony kept fucking into you, faster again bcs she was close too :(((

"g-gonna come inside you... d'you want my cum, (y/n)?? w-want me to... h-haahh... want me to get you pregnant? i want to... i really want to, fuck... you're mine... i need you to be mine..." wony buries her head on your neck, mumbling all this nonsense about giving you her kids... then you're begging her not to fucking do that but she doesn't want her cum to go to waste :(( wony coming inside you with a long, whiny moan which you thought was a bit cute...

feeling wony's warm cum inside you... only pulling out minutes later when she has dumped every fucking seed inside your cunt... putting your hands on her shoulders when she finally let go of your wrists,, god you felt so violated.. but why were you kissing her?? why were you thinking that she was the prettiest thing you have ever seen?? and why, after recovering from everything, were you begging for her to come inside you again?? 😣😣

#ive smut #ive x reader #ive imagines #girl group smut #girl group x reader #girl group imagines #ive x fem reader #jang wonyoung smut #jang wonyoung imagines #jang wonyoung x reader #wonyoung smut #wonyoung x reader #wonyoung imagines #g!p wonyoung #g!p idol

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melis-writes · 11 months

Text

Mafia Wife [Sonny Corleone x Reader Multichapter, 18+ Smut] Chapter 1 – La Famiglia Giordano.

Read on AO3 / Chapter Masterlist.

18+, explicit smut read.

“You wanted to name our first-born daughter Gabriella.” / “You’re Gabriella, aren’t you?”

“The underboss’s wife”; that’s who you are, and the whispers of enemies, family and colleagues alike know it too. You’re no stranger to the underworld of crime surrounding you including the one run by the Corleone family’s underboss; Santino Corleone. The streets run red with blood and brutality under Santino’s influence but it’s Santino who feels hit by the thunderbolt at the very sight of you—pushing away his womanizing and notorious unfaithfulness. You unexpectedly find yourself in a position of power balancing your marriage with the fate of the Corleone’s family’s future whether it be through Santino’s infamous brutality or the love he finds amidst the man he claims to be.

[WARNINGS]: Mentions of violence & death / Alcohol use / Pregnancy / Childbirth.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: The very first chapter of my Sonny Corleone x Reader fic is FINALLY here!! 🥰✨ Thank you guys SO much for all of the endless support and love this fic received when it was just an idea and barely typed out! I'm so glad to finally have it up. By far the most exhausting and longest part of the fic process is planning a brand new one for me, and I had definitely been much busier than usual when planning out/writing this fic which is why it took so long to write. I had to give something for the Santino girlies as I'm one myself!! 👀❤️ Please read ALL of the tags on this fic on AO3 before diving into the chapters as it'll give you a good understanding as to what the entire fic and chapters will be like. This goes for ALL fics I write! The tags are there for a reason. This fic is also 18+ only, just like all of my other works forever and always. This is meant for adults to read only. ✋🏻

Chapter 1: La Famiglia Giordano.

[ Barzini Family Estate, 1948 ]

“Nobody wants another war,” Don Barzini states, watching the ice soaking in his glass of whiskey. “Nobody wanted another war; isn’t that how it always goes?”

Don Tattaglia gives his head a shake, relaxing in the leather armchair he sits across from Barzini. “We have Sollozzo to thank for all of that.”

Having an otherwise civil discussion between two closely allied business partners and old friends, the bond Don Barzini and Don Tattaglia’s family share has been stronger than ever since Sollozzo.

Despite successfully allying together against the Corleones throughout the Five Families War and coming together for talk over business, neither Barzini nor Tattaglia can ignore the air of tension that’s formed between them now.

Barzini can easily tell Tattaglia is unnerved as he sips his whiskey again, savoring the smokey notes of the liquid over his tongue while noticing how Tattaglia is nearly chugging back his drink.

“You’re tense,” Barzini comments, somewhat surprised by Tattaglia’s behavior. “Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind or not?”

“How can I not be?” Tattaglia swallows down his drink.

“You’re looking at all of this the wrong way, my friend,” Barzini gives a reassuring smile. “You’re on the winning side. The Godfather has no leverage over either of our families or—”

“Vito Corleone isn’t my concern,” Tattaglia interrupts.

“Hmm,” Barzini pauses, taking a sip of his drink again. “Then that’s a first.”

“It’s his son,” Tattaglia adds.

“Which one?” Barzini rolls his eyes. “They’re all equally useless in their own ways.”

Tattalia opens his mouth to answer before pausing for a moment; a look of absolute defeat crosses his expression, forming into regret, then helplessness. “Does the name ‘Gabriella’ ring a bell to you?”

Barzini raises a curious brow. “Maybe. Should it? Does The Godfather have another daughter we don’t know about?”

“He has a daughter-in-law,” Tattaglia answers, “Gabriella Corleone. She’s the daughter of Francesco Giordano.”

Barzini tenses for a moment, no longer focusing on his whiskey. ��I… I see.”

“You know Gabriella then?” Tattagia asks back.

“Not personally, but her name was spoken often in my household. Was,” Barzini emphasizes.

Tattaglia sighs softly, giving his head a shake.

“Emilio wanted to marry her,” Barzini continues, mentioning his eldest son. “He spoke of Gabriella fondly and often, but she refused him and his advances. Now you’re telling me she’s part of the Corleone family?”

“Francesco did well hiding the news from us for the most part,” Tattaglia points out. “Everyone else must have known.”

“No, no,” Barzini shakes his head, refusing. “I don’t think of it in that way. Francesco is a dear friend. He doesn’t ‘hide’ things. He values the privacy he can give his family.”

“If you want to put it that way,” Tattaglia mumbles. “It’s none of our business, is it? She married Santino Corleone, the underboss.”

Barzini freezes in his seat, attempting to calm himself down internally as Tattaglia immediately picks up on Barzini’s shocked expression.

Tattaglia nods grimly, “do you know what you’ve done?”

“Don’t,” Barzini mutters softly, holding up his free hand.

“She’s pregnant,” Tattaglia adds. “Do you even care? Do you know what’s going to happen now? To your investments? Your wealth? Your bank accounts with Giordano?”

Barzini suddenly lets go of his whiskey glass, watching as the glass shatters to pieces over the floor and the alcohol spills free onto the wood.

Barzini covers his face with shame, feeling a knot of heavy emotions cause him to feel nauseous almost instantly with unimaginable guilt.

A heavy silence sits in the air between the two men for a minute as they ponder, having nothing else to say to each other.

“I will apologize to Gabriella,” Barzini finally speaks, raising his head out of his hands.

“You can’t,” Tattaglia frowns. “You can’t do anything anymore.”

[ 1921 ]

“Gabriella… Little Gabriella.” You’re the first-born daughter in your family to four older brothers, and the eldest to your twin sister, born just forty minutes apart.

Although your mother went into labor knowing she’d welcome two children instead of one on June 19th, 1921, nothing could surpass the joy your mother and father felt when you were born.

Just as your four eldest brothers had been born, your mother gave birth to you and your twin sister Bella at home, surrounded by two Italian-American nurses from the community who had helped your mother through her previous deliveries.

Your parents weren’t sure what to expect when your mother realized she was pregnant with her fifth child since the last four children she gave birth to were all boys.

“Will it be another boy this time?” Your father chuckled and placed his hand over the top of your mother’s seven-month-old baby bump. “Perhaps two boys?”

“Oh, please,” your mother let out a laugh, “we have more than enough boys. I would love a daughter this time around. One boy and one girl, or twin girls even.”

“What a dream that would be,” your father grinned. “It seems like we’ve had all the luck in the world for having sons. No matter,” he leaned over, kissing your mother’s baby bump gently. “Boy or girl loved all the same. Spoiled like his or her other siblings. Only two this time…” He pulled away, looking up at your mother. “I can’t wait to meet them, darling.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” your mother blushed and laced both of her hands with your father’s. “Two more additions to the family. You know what I said when we first married? About baby names?”

“I do, mhmm,” your father nodded. “You wanted to name our first-born daughter Gabriella.”

“I do,” your mother smiled warmly. “I still do.”

“Of course. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. I still remember,” he gave your mother’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I hope this time we get to meet little Gabriella.”

“I hope so too, my love.”

Even before you were born, you were loved. The idea of you was loved, your name was loved, and everything and anything you could be from birth to adulthood to old age was loved.

Nothing compared to how overwhelmed with joy your mother felt when she smiled up weakly at you, tears in her eyes from excruciating contractions hitting her again and again to see and hear one of the nurses declare, “it’s a girl!”

Before your mother went back into labor to give birth to your twin sister forty minutes later, she held you in her arms and cooed to you through her tears of happiness. “Gabriella… Gabriella...”

She kissed your cheeks wet with tears as your father let you hold his finger with your tiny hand, looking down upon you with so much love and happiness.

You were born into this world loved and welcomed just as your siblings were, and just as you would always be.

Your twin sister and you were born to the Giordano family; a family that came from money which was no secret nor meant to be one.

Your father, Francesco Giordano, better known as “Frankie” by his friends and business partners, was born in Sicily, but your grandparents had already been living in and had immigrated to New York.

Your father came from a lengthy family history of educated individuals; spanning seven generations of university graduates and had graduated from Columbia University himself in 1912.

Your mother, Rosa nee De Luca, who was born in Long Island, New York to Sicilian parents, had met your father in that same year.

Having many connections or even just one to a crime family served to be the best for anyone’s interests, even those who didn’t want to get “involved” indirectly or directly, and then there are always individuals who wouldn’t mind the close ties with the mafia so as long as they stray from direct intervention or get too close, could always reap the benefits of work connections by having powerful friends in powerful places.

Your father and his family practiced the same mantra as many others; don’t get too close to the mafia to avoid getting burned, by maintaining a healthy business relationship and community friendliness.

Since the days of your great-grandfather, your father inherited the ownership of several small banks that his family had started; serving the local community and operating for middle-class families with day-to-day funds, support for home ownership, and loans.

The success of your father’s family business in banking was steady and promising, working out very well to attract a clientele of all kinds from the Italian-American community in particular.

Your father built his business connections where your grandfather left off but also started new ones with the Italian community in the neighborhood and area as well as being involved with all of the crime families himself, but with some more than others.

Everyone, including the mafia, knows Frankie Giordano to be an honest businessman who makes a living to feed his family. Your father also happens to be smart and witty about it too.

Frankie Giordano built a name for himself without feeding off of his father’s legacy and thus deepened the trust and bond the Giordano family already had with the mafia when it came to loans and money laundering.

One could say your father always went to the bank laughing, and the mafia made sure of that for the excellent service rendered by the Giordano banks.

Your father also knew that his future wife—your mother—would benefit greatly from that, and thus so would all of his and her children.

Your father had no intention of keeping the truth and ties of his business affairs from you, your twin sister Bella, or any of your brothers for that matter. He would only wait to tell you all in due time when you’d be mature enough to understand and process it.

Even if in the future and all grown up none of you were remotely interested in the booming world of business and finance, you’d at least benefit immensely from inheritance and the steady flow of wealth and investments.

Your father’s closest business partners were that of the Corleone and Tattaglia families, although the Barzini’s were getting close enough to join the list too.

Your family is protected from conflicting interests and possible hostilities between rival families because your father’s business is legal, public and there’s mutual respect and understanding of what your family’s banks provide with respect grandfathered in.

Despite Frankie Giordano’s wealth and success, your father was never the type of man to flaunt or brag—just maintaining his work ethic with dedication like none other; traits you would indeed inherit from him.

In many ways, your father would see a lot of himself in you as you grew older, such as the fact you too could see light at the end of every tunnel and that you also valued family and morals over money and power.

Such traits and beliefs made your father a true family man under times of turmoil and stress, and it also helped you understand the world around you better.

Your father married your mother, Rosa, in 1914 after almost two years of courtship with no intention to push or rush their relationship for the sake of tying the knot quickly.

Your mother comes from a family of wealthy socialites who built upon their wealth by investing and simply being connected to the right people.

Your parents met each other through a social outing when your mother’s family became all the more interested in investing in Giordano family banks.

“It’s one thing to believe in something such as love at first sight. Love can be so fickle, but when it happens to you, it changes you completely,” your mother had once told you.

The wit and cunning your mother showed growing up as a young woman were learned from family members around her and would no doubt pass on to you as well.

Through your mother, you also discovered your passion and love for art and botany, whereas your twin sister Bella felt the same and was more connected to architecture, nature, and the outdoors.

When your parents settled down and planned to have a family of their own, your brothers, you, and your sister would come from and be born into a family of love and respect that could never be unbound.

You knew from a very young age early on that your parents loved each other very much, and although all couples disagree and have their fights, you still can’t recall a single moment where you heard your parents raise their voices at each other in front of you, let alone fight or argue in front of you and your siblings either.

Growing up, all you knew is you loved and wished for the same peace and calm love your parents shared.

You don’t want to be “madly” in love; you want a peaceful and understanding love—the kind your mother and father share with each other with the kind of expectations they lived through and passed onto you.

Everything you’ve learned about love was through your parents, and it set your heart’s wants and needs as a young woman.

Your mother, who is not easily impressed by just anything, had taught you to be the same and explore your options with all things when you were a teenager.

“What pleases the eye once may not do so the second time. The world is filled with options. Your heart will know what’s best for you.”

While your mother was eighteen years old when she married your father, she gave birth to your eldest brother—Luca—in 1915.

Right up until your mother’s maternity leave, she was a private art teacher in New York City who specialized in teaching about painting; classical, renaissance, religious, and abstract.

Your mother would not return back to teaching part-time until 1936 when your sister Bella and you were about fifteen years old and the family could easily sustain and take care of itself throughout the day.

Your mother also preferred to teach part-time instead of full-time before she began to have children because she preferred to spend most of her time with the grandchildren she welcomed over the years.

Coming up to 1939, you and your sister were eligible bachelorettes in your family alongside one bachelor brother—Giani—but it would be you, the most eligible bachelorette considering your circumstances and your sister’s traveling abroad that would not only bring you upon him—Santino Corleone—but the Corleone family and their history with the Giordano’s in due time.

[ 1920, Hell’s Kitchen, New York ]

“There will never be come a day—” Francesco says, sketching out the outline of a small olive branch over a scrap piece of paper in front of him, “where they outlaw this, my friend. Never. The olive? They could not,” your father admires his sketch, darkening the two olives he drew hanging on the branch. “The olive provides too much—it does too much. You buy it from Vito Corleone—Genco Olive Oil—” he smiles up at Vito who returns the warm expression, popping a black olive in his mouth from the small platter in front of them.

“And you use it in your cooking,” your father continues, taking an olive and putting it in his mouth. “It’s too versatile, too much of a need for the average family to outlaw.”

“I can’t see any Italian family without a bottle in their home,” Vito chuckles quietly.

“Exactly,” your father points out, reaching into the drawer beneath him for a moment.

Vito glances over curiously, watching as Francesco pulls out a concealed bottle of unopened Jack Daniel’s whiskey before setting it on the front counter in front of him.

“You don’t have to worry about the repercussions of buying a bottle or whole barrel of olive oil. This though,” your father taps the back of his fingernails against the bottle of alcohol. “Is a crime. This bottle here.”

Vito raises a curious brow; amusement twinkling in his eyes as to how nonchalantly your father pulled out a bottle of unopened whiskey.

“My father’s favorite drink served on ice. Bought and sold everywhere, now it’s illegal,” Francesco chuckles, shaking his head. “Now, buying and selling alcohol is illegal. Just like that.”

“They could never expect to stop everyone from doing so,” Vito chimes in.

“Exactly, my friend,” your father begins to open up the bottle, grabbing two small glasses from the cupboard beneath the front counter at which he and Vito sit. “They never can, but they know they never could. I don’t know how much longer this silliness will last, but,” Francesco begins to pour Vito and himself a glass of whiskey, “there’s plenty more of where this came from. No questions asked, no eyebrows raised.”

A curious look crosses Vito’s eyes as he takes his glass of whiskey before glancing down at it. Naturally, he immediately begins to wonder how many bottles Francesco has, where he got them from, how he got them, and where they’ll go.

“You are the most resourceful friend I know,” Vito comments, “do I need to ask?”

“You can,” your father replies, knowing, of course, Vito’s curiosity is only normal and expected, “if we can come to an agreement first, my friend.”

Your father was the first man to lend Vito Corleone money; give him his first full loan just by knowing his full name and without any interest.

Your father gave Vito a chance—one of his first chances—without even knowing it, and through such a chance came one lucrative business opportunity after another.

If your father and Vito were involved in something, then it meant there was plenty of money to be made under the table without asking questions and with no risk of getting caught.

Whether your father and Vito formally acknowledged it or not, they were a duo of sorts.

Your father trusted Vito while knowing Vito was indeed settling the roots of his one crime family just as the other mafia families in New York were.

Your father didn’t care about Vito’s involvement in crime or anything of the sort; your father was and is a banker by trade and name, and money always talked.

With prohibition starting in 1920 with a surplus of alcohol to be smuggled from your father’s contacts in Canada, there was nothing but profit to be made from the business for however long prohibition would last.

Securing and solidifying a strong friendship already, the prohibition era would make both your family and Vito’s very wealthy from the moment Vito smiled and shook your father’s hand in agreement, knowing all the same.

That was hardly the beginning of the Giordano and Corleone family’s friendship and ties with one another.

That same year, Vito Corleone would kill Don Fanucci.

Despite the concept being thought of by everyone who had the misfortune to know Fanucci, many didn’t believe Fanucci would be outright killed.

It was merely something men fantasized about to set themselves free of the financial obligations Fanucci put forward and fears they would be killed, extorted, go missing, or worse.

Taking Fanucci out was a fantasy, nobody could do it except for Vito Corleone.

If it was anyone your father had faith in to stand up to a brutish man like Fanucci, it was Vito Corleone, but your father also didn’t expect Vito to murder Fanucci the way he did and so soon.

On that fateful day, your father was closing up his main bank’s branch for the day; having put up the “closed” sign on the front door and lowered the blinds more than halfway down.

He had not yet locked the front door since he was up at the front anyway, and your father would be able to see anyone coming to approach the bank’s entrance before they could even think of trying the door.

At that time, your father was counting some of the spare change in one of the last drawers quietly, noting that it was 5:30 PM and rush hour had fully kicked in.

Humming quietly to himself, Francesco put the spare change in his pocket before closing up the cash register and locking it with his key.

Only for a moment did your father look up to see the faint figure of a passerby without paying too much attention to it.

In a few moments from now, Francesco would lock up the bank and head home; your mother was expecting him with a hot meal on the table and she was pregnant with you and your twin sister Bella at the time.

In a good mood and having enjoyed his work day, your father slowly began to stop humming upon hearing footsteps from that same figure grow closer to the bank’s front door.

Your father knew it wasn’t someone out strolling or wandering, but rather approaching the bank directly and standing in front of the door.

Your father kept his hand over his pistol carefully concealed underneath an old polishing rag on the front counter while watching the figure’s movements by the door.

It was then that Francesco noticed who the figure was, seeing no cause for panic or alarm.

It was Peter Clemenza, and he was revealing himself to your father to avoid a bullet in between the eyes at this hour.

Clemenza lifted up the “closed” sign in front of the door and peeked his head in; urgency in his eyes and beckoning with his hands to be let in.

Your father moved his hand away from the pistol and gestured for Clemenza to enter since the door wasn’t locked.

Sighing in relief, Clemenza quickly entered and shut the door behind him instantly, wasting no time.

Your father could easily tell Clemenza was alarmed but didn’t have a look on his face that spelled it was his problem.

Before your father could barely blink or open his mouth to ask Clemenza what was going on, Clemenza immediately stated, “Fanucci is dead.”

Your father stared back at him in shock, pausing for a moment to take everything in. “What? Dead?”

“Dead,” Clemenza confirms, locking the bank door and taking off his fedora. “I came over here as fast as I could to tell you.”

“Who else knows?” Francesco asked quietly.

“Roth, Genco, and Tessio so far,” Clemenza answered, catching his breath. “This is gonna send fuckin’ shockwaves throughout the neighborhood.”

“My God,” your father muttered under his breath, smoothening out the sides of his slicked-back hair. “And Vito? Does Vito know yet?”

Clemenza chuckles, shaking his head. “Who do you think did it, Frankie? Vito killed Fanucci. Shot that son of a bitch right in his own apartment. Don’t worry—“ He holds up a hand, “Vito handled everything.”

“Does he need anything?” Your father offered, stepping out from behind the front counter.

“Yeah, but I have a feeling you already know what,” Clemenza shrugged his shoulders. “That bastard Fanucci took half of our dime each and every time. He still dealt with your bank, right?”

“He has an account here,” Francesco nodded.

“Good,” Clemenza put his fedora back on, adjusting it. “Because everything in Fanucci’s account needs to all go to Vito now.”

It was true that Fanucci’s death, it now meant his money and assets held at the Giordano banks had to go somewhere, and your father couldn’t agree more to it going straight to Vito.

Fanucci had been stingy and extra hard on Vito over anyone, despite Vito being understanding and gentle to counter each and every time.

Still, Fanucci took hundreds of dollars worth of cuts from Vito’s pay every single time and still threatened to have him killed at the same time.

Francesco had no pity whatsoever towards Fanucci or his family, and if Vito was going to be the one taking back the money Fanucci stole from him and everyone else, then your father would agree to let it happen.

After all, Francesco knew Vito Corleone wasn’t the kind of man to take all that money and spend it on himself.

Vito proved your father’s beliefs about the security of Fanucci’s money and assets being transferred to Vito’s accounts when he saw for himself how Vito spread the money back into the Italian-American community and only taking the exact fair share that he kept track of since Fanucci began taking it.

Afterward, Francesco closed down Fanucci’s account at his bank and erased all existence and history of it, so if the police came around to ask questions, there wouldn’t be a single answer available.

Having Fanucci killed wasn’t something your father expected to happen in 1920—not while prohibition was still ongoing—and by Vito Corleone’s hand, nonetheless.

At the time, the only exciting news for Francesco Giordano was that he was expecting his wife to give birth to twin babies in the upcoming year.

In 1921, you and your twin sister Gabriella were born.

Your family did not live in stress due to any direct involvement in mafia affairs or had any fears to worry about what the mafia and those associated with its lifestyle of crime were doing.

Nothing stopped your family from continuing to live out their lives as normal, peaceful, and lawful with the police and government as many see fit despite what your father had known, seen, and been involved with in the past year.

Your father promised himself that he would never do or say anything to jeopardize the safety and happiness of his family nor put his family in any situation where they would live in fear and become potential targets to anyone or anything.

After all, your father had been expecting the birth of you and your baby sister—experiencing fatherhood all over again and surprisingly to two daughters this time.

Nothing else needed to get in the way of Francesco Giordano when he was welcoming two little babies to his family. Nothing to stress out his wife either and Francesco made certain of this.

It was on June 19th, 1921 that your mother, Rosa, went into labor in the comfort of her own home for six hours to give birth to you and your twin sister.

The same nurses who helped your mother give birth to your brothers were at your mother’s side again as your father also sat with her and held your mother’s hand for comfort—wiping the sweat off of her forehead and making soft conversation.

Everyone involved kept Rosa as comfortable as they best could, remaining vigilant in observation and getting Rosa anything she may need.

“Ti amo,” (I love you) your father whispered in your mother’s ear. “Sei una donna forte e ce la farai.” (You’re a strong woman and you’re going to get through this.)

Your mother’s strength thick and thin always had your father in awe, and your father never left your mother’s side throughout the six hours of tedious and agonizing labor.

Neither of your parents will ever forget the overwhelming joy and excitement they felt hearing the nurse announce, “it’s a girl!” for the first time as your mother gave birth to you.

Your mother smiled throughout her tears as she reached out to hold you and your father teared up too, seeing that he now had a baby daughter.

Sobbing from nothing but happiness and relief, your mother held your tiny self in her arms for a few moments before her body would prepare again to give birth to your twin sister Bella in the next forty minutes.

“Gabriella, Gabriella…” Your father cooed softly, attempting to soothe you as you cried out in your mother’s arms. “Welcome to the world, my beautiful girl.”

If it was a shock to have a daughter after giving birth to so many little boys, the ultimate surprise was your parents realizing that they were having two daughters.

So many happy tears and laughter were shared in that room, relief washing over everyone and the exhaustion of labor beginning to kick in.

Your family welcomed you and your twin sister Bella to the world in 1921, and your mother and father held both you and Bella in their arms, whispering promises that they would love and protect you both no matter what; that they’d do anything to give you and your siblings a good life.

Your eldest brother, Luca, who was five years old at the time was ecstatic, as were four-year-old Romeo, Casio, and little Giani to welcome two baby sisters.

Truly, it was one of the happiest moments of your mother and father’s lives.

In 1922 as you and Bella were just little babies growing up, one thing had become all the more apparent to all men who lived in Long Island—particularly the Italian community and the one in Hell’s Kitchen too.

Crime families at this time had bonded and grown stronger with all the more influence now. They were too powerful to be considered Fanucci wannabees as they could no longer be reckoned with alone.

Such power and influence amidst crime families brought business and organization, but that also meant rampant crime and fear even if it was not always noticeable.

One had to be careful dealing with crime families for whatever reasons since rivalry, although relatively uncommon at the time did exist and caused enough trouble.

Your father was only allied with and close friends with Vito and the Corleone family at the time, so no rivalry concerned him.

“Let me know if you need anything else, my friend,” Francesco said, patting Vito’s shoulder. “I can find a way to get funds to you in Sicily in less than two days if needed.”

“I will be fine, Frankie. Thank you,” Vito chuckled and smiled at your father. “I’m very grateful and appreciative for all the help you’ve provided my family and me.”

“You know I can say the same to you,” Francesco nodded back. “I’m too used to seeing you down these neighborhoods. You’ll be missed, Vito Corleone, but this trip is just what you need, isn’t it? For family and for peace.”

“Exactly,” Vito reaffirmed, “I won’t put it off longer than I need to. Don Ciccio is a withered old man now but he doesn’t deserve to die from something so merciful such as old age.”

“I agree,” Francesco replied. “He is a vile and sick man obsessed with power. He always has been. Maybe once he’s finally out of the picture, the rest of us can peacefully return to Sicily for a family trip as we wish to.”

“Many have said the same to me before,” Vito frowned. “I doubt Ciccio will remember me, but that is exactly what I will use to my advantage. It didn’t have to be this way, but…” Vito stroked his chin, “I lost my entire family to that foul man.”

“You don’t need to justify it to me or anyone else, Vito,” Francesco shook his head. “His death is in your hands now. You know I would come to aid you if I could. Either way, I support you.”

“I know you would, my friend, which is why we must part ways for now,” warmth flickered in Vito’s eyes. I can’t do this to you; you just had your little girls and they need their father with them more than ever.”

“So as long as they get to see their godfather soon again,” your father grinned. “Rosa is expecting you and Carmela all ready for dinner. Mrs. Corleone is expecting now too, is she not?”

“Indeed,” Vito beamed. “And we are taking little Michael to Sicily for this time on this trip.”

At that time, Carmela Corleone was pregnant with her first and only daughter, Constanzia.

“Ah, little Michael,” your father’s eyes lit up. “No naughtiness from the little man, I hope?”

“He’s a good, quiet young man,” Vito let out a soft laugh. “This trip will give him more stories to listen to about Sicily since he won’t remember it when he’s older.”

“Of course,” your father smiled, “just keep that fiery Santino by your side.”

“Carmela says the same,” Vito pointed out. “Don’t worry, I will. He’s a good boy too, I promise, although he could benefit from learning more manners.”

“Can’t we all?” Laughing, the two men shared a farewell hug.

“Be careful and be well, Vito,” your father cautioned. “Enemies may still be lurking in Sicily, looking for you, especially if you seek revenge.”

“It’ll be as if I wasn’t even there.”

[ 1939, Present Day ]

The first to welcome their first children into the Corleone family with Carmela and Vito Corleone excited to welcome a grandchild are Tom and Theresa Hagen; expecting their first baby early next year.

It’s no surprise that at first all eyes were on Santino—the eldest son of the Corleone family—to settle down and start a family first instead of Tom or anyone else, despite Tom being the same age—twenty three.

The only difference between the two men in terms of settling down to have a family was that Tom is in love with an investing in his love life and marriage with Theresa, an American woman, whereas Sonny hardly knows what “settling down” means.

It’s only in Sonny’s best interest to switch from one woman to another, a one nightstand again and again with no care as to how others may see Sonny to be very promiscuous with no shame or intent to stop sleeping around to even think about marrying someone.

Celebrating the baby shower for Tom and Theresa planned today, the nature of the event to both Tom and Theresa is private and intimate, hence their invitations only being sent out to the closest friends of the Corleone family.

Only the Giordano’s, Barzini’s and Cuneo’s are invited today with the vast majority of the women helping with the cooking back inside and the men upstairs in Don Corleone’s office.

Despite the family history with the Giordano’s, this is the first time you’re attending a Corleone family event and the very first time you’ll be visiting the Corleone estate.

Your father and brothers have visited the Corleone’s numerous times previously and know them better than any other business partner or friend, but neither you nor Bella have had the opportunity to yourselves.

Bella is more than halfway through her first semester at the Academy of Fine Arts in Vienna however, leaving you to be the only woman of the family next to your mother.

With the baby shower celebrations ongoing this afternoon in the courtyard of the Corleone estate to enjoy the fresh spring air and sun, men seeing Vito Corleone inside present Don Corleone with gifts meant for the expecting couple out of respect first.

Connie carefully balances one gift box over another by a table reserved just for baby shower gifts, making sure the presents don’t topple over one another from solely the sheer number of how many there are.

Arriving just five minutes after your father and brother, your chauffer passes clearance at the main gates of the Corleone estate before slowly beginning to park inside.

Your father and brothers have joined Barzini and Cuneo’s sons upstairs in Vito’s office where Sonny, Tom and Fredo also remain, but Michael—the youngest son of the Corleone family—is away at Dartmouth College for study.

Once the topic at hand ends in Vito’s office, Tom will come back out to the courtyard to thank and meet all the guests at the baby shower himself.

The rest of the men are not expected to in order to keep a low profile and spend as much time discussing business with Don Corleone as possible.

The only Corleone family member you know personally is Carmella and you’ve enjoyed every bit of time you’ve gotten to spend with her in the past when Carmela came to visit and bake desserts with you and your mother from time to time.

You know you’ll be meeting Theresa—the one expecting—and Connie Corleone as well for the first time.

“Benvenuti, miei cari!” (Welcome, my darlings!) Carmela happily blurts as she rushes down to the gates to greet you and your mother the moment you two step out of the vehicle.

“Carmela!” Your mother beams, pulling her into a warm hug. “Come stai dolcezza? È da parecchio tempo!” (How are you, honey? It’s been so long!)

“Yes, it has!” Carmela lets out a soft laugh before she cups your cheeks gently. “È passato tanto tempo perché guarda Gabriella! Adesso è diventata una bellissima giovane donna!” (It has been so long because look at Gabriella! She's all grown up now into a beautiful young woman!)

“Hi, Mama Corleone,” you giggle back, giving her a hug. “It’s so good to see you again.”

“And you as well, honey—mwah,” Carmela kisses both of your cheeks again, “she’s grown up to be such a beauty, hasn’t she?”

“Very much so,” your mother happily agrees. “And I’m excited for her to meet your girls!”

“As am I!” Carmela gestures excitedly, “come on in, ladies. All the men are already inside seeing Vito, I doubt they’ll even bother to come step out but in any case—that doesn’t matter. We’re all very excited for Theresa expecting her little one soon!”

“How far along is she?” You ask, walking into the Corleone estate grounds with your mother and Carmela.

“She’s about seven months pregnant now,” Carmela answers. “I can’t wait to introduce you to her. I know all you lovely ladies will get along just fine!”

Before you can say anything else, you step into the Corleone estate’s courtyard with Carmela and your mother to be hit with awe from the beauty of the estate surrounding you.

A gazebo stands in the further end of the courtyard with the manor itself built in a classic American style but with small details to Italian architecture.

The courtyard in which you stand in is surrounded by a blossoming garden, spotless and filled with ample enough space to host over four hundred people comfortably.

“So beautiful,” you murmur in surprise; momentarily turning back to see your chauffer placing the carefully wrapped giftboxes filled with the presents your mother and you chose for the baby shower by the table with the other gifts.

For your baby shower gift to Tom and Theresa, you picked out an abundance of cotton diapers, two bibs, three different pacifiers and a baby mat.

As your mother and Mama Corleone are lost in conversation, you look up to see a heavily pregnant woman—Theresa—rise up from her seat at her table with her hand over her baby bump.

Petite frame, blonde with bright eyes and American, Theresa’s eyes land on you as another woman approaches her by her side—a Sicilian—who looks like a striking combination of Carmela and Vito combined.

You assume this must be Connie—the only daughter of the Corleone family that your mother and Mama Corleone lead you up to now for introductions.

“Here is our lovely Theresa!” Carmela gestures to the pregnant young woman. “Seven months in with her little one already. Theresa, this is the daughter of my best friend, Gabriella. Her family is from Sicily too.”

“Hello,” Theresa shyly reaches out her hand to you. “It’s nice to meet you, Gabriella.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Theresa,” you give her a polite smile, shaking her hand back. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you!” Theresa’s eyes light up.

“And this is my daughter, Connie,” Carmela introduces Connie to you next, and you immediately notice Connie is much less shyer than her sister-in-law Theresa with a sparkle of excitement in her eyes from being introduced to you.

“Hi Gabriella,” Connie grins, “are you the only daughter in your family too?”

“Not exactly,” you let out a laugh, “I have a twin sister but she’s studying abroad.”

“Ah, lucky you! I’m the only sister,” Connie gives your hand a warm squeeze.

“I know what it’s like to grow up with many brothers around you, trust me,” you giggle back, knowing from what your mother told you that the Corleone’s are almost just as big of a family as yours and with many sons.

“Tell me about it,” Connie holds back her laughter and it immediately strikes you that Connie appears to be type of woman you can easily get along with and make the best of friends with her.

Just as warm, loving and trusting as Connie seems, you also can’t push past or ignore how you pick up an explainable kind of yearning sadness behind Connie’s eyes too.

Just as you’re thinking, Connie’s yearning to make a friend with someone like you and knowing she can easily be able to do so considering how close your families are; both of you around the same age and with familiar backgrounds.

Back inside Don Corleone’s office, greetings, congratulations and humble gift giving to Vito Corleone for Tom and Theresa’s baby shower has come to an end as Tom smiles to himself and keeps the stack of guests in the corner of Vito’s office and takes his seat again near his father.

A glass of richly aged bourbon is served for all of the men and Vito’s office door remains slightly ajar to help keep the air from getting stuffy from cigarette smoke.

“But the war,” Sonny begins, unamused, “it doesn’t mean too much for us, anyway.”

“Not at all,” your father says, shaking his head. “It’s a shame with all the bloodshed going on in Europe right now, but our interests remain the same and our assets here are protected.”

“We expect a prosperous new decade of us nonetheless,” Don Barzini adds.

“As do I,” Vito agrees. “One can only be concerned so much as to what strangers abroad are doing or how they risk their lives. We must work together so there’s no war between our families and only peace.”

“I have to say,” Tom speaks up, “to have no rivalry despite working with our families and their investments is impressive, Mr. Giordano.”

“I appreciate your praise, Tom,” Francesco gives Tom a polite smile. “In this line of work, I had to be a salesman and businessman. I hope our families can continue to be civil and work with one another. I know my wife enjoys the company of our family get-togethers and it would also be good for Gabriella as well, considering her sister is in Austria.”

“Ah, how is she?” Vito’s eyes light up in interest. “Enjoying her time abroad?”

“Indeed,” your father nods happily, “Bella is taking a varieties of courses on subjects in the arts, especially music and literature It’s good for her to broaden her horizons but I miss her, and I think Gabriella does too, of course.”

“Ah, very understandable,” Don Cuneo nods.

‘Gabriella?’ Sonny blinks, thinking to himself. ‘Who is she?’

“Michael is the same,” Vito gives his shoulders a shrug. “He is at Dartmouth now and I am proud of him for entering study in political science.”

“He doesn’t wish to follow in your footsteps, Vito?” Don Barzini smirks.

“He wants no involvement whatsoever,” Vito shakes his head. “Which is more than fine with me. Michael seeks a career in politics. I say sometimes American politics can be so foolish, but Michael can also be stubborn when he wants to. Nonetheless,” Vito places his hands down upon his desk, “I’m very proud of him.”

“Indecisive, perhaps?” Your father suggests.

“Nah,” Sonny interrupts, scoffing. “Michael wants to do everything and anything.”

“He is the youngest after all,” Tom chuckles quietly. “Then my sister Connie who is the youngest child of the family.”

“Ah, the lovely Connie,” Francesco smiles warmly, “of course. Michael is a bachelor, then?”

“All my sons are, except Tom,” Vito answers, somewhat unhappy about his answer. “Perhaps that will change, won’t it, Fredo?” Vito gives Fredo a gentle pat on the shoulder.

“Sure, Pop,” Fredo says back sheepishly.

“And Santino’s a different story,” Vito continues, gesturing to his eldest son.

“I dunno,” Sonny chuckles to himself, shrugging his shoulders. “Marriage isn’t really something on my mind just yet, you know.”

“Would you like to marry in the future, though?” Don Cuneo asks him.

“I do,” Sonny nods, “have some kids, a family—settle down, yeah. Why not? I just don’t think I got any opportunity to now but I’m not the kind of man who would push it all away.”

Vito nods, staring back down at his drink in hopes the conversation about Sonny being a bachelorette will change in the next few moments, for the sake of the Corleone family’s dignity.

Vito knows everyone else in the room is just as away of Sonny’s promiscuous behaviour and lifestyle as he is, after all.

Out in the courtyard with the ladies and you, most of the conversation continues with your mother, Theresa and Carmela, all giddy about Theresa’s pregnancy.

“Congratulations again, honey,” your mother tells Theresa, “how has it been for you so far? An easy pregnancy, I hope.”

“A little difficult, honestly,” Theresa admits, sheepishly. “It’s improving though.”

“It will for baby number two as well,” Carmela chimes in.

You turn back to Connie and smile, inviting a conversation of your own that she starts.

“Welcome, Gabriella,” Connie says to you, “it’s honestly nice to put a name to a face at last. Mama has told me a bit about you and your sister but we surprisingly never had the chance to meet.”

“I know,” you pout, “I wish we could have met one another much sooner. My twin sister is in Austria right now, actually, so she has no chance at all yet. You know, touring Western Europe when she feels up to an adventure. I’m not so lucky or adventurous though,” you laugh.

“Neither am I,” Connie admits, “it’s refreshing to meet someone like you. What’s Bella in Austria for?”

“Art school,” you reply, smoothening out your shirtwaist dress. “Art has always been a passion for Bella, mostly music, literature and art history.”

“Must run in the family then,” Connie beams at you, “mama told me both you and your mother are artists too.”

Flattered, you nod eagerly with a smile. “We’d like to say so! It runs within the ladies of the family. I adore fine art like sculpture and art history, but personally, it’s not my passion.”

“Applied arts then, maybe?” Connie offers, growing further interested in the conversation at hand.

“Something like that,” you ponder for a moment, “I prefer painting, like mama. I’ve always loved doing so.”

“Wow,” Connie murmurs to herself, “do you have any inspirations for making art?”

“Maybe not the answer you’re looking for—” you chuckle sheepishly, “but I’d honestly have to say emotions inspire me, and my environment. Even the weather—small things like that. Artists like Van Gogh and Monet also inspire me.”

“That’s amazing,” Connie brushes back a curtain of her dark hair behind her ear. “Mama had actually been telling me earlier about the private art school your mother teaches at and…I was honestly thinking about enrolling to get a feel for myself but I wasn’t entirely too sure.”

“Definitely go for it,” you can scarcely hide the enthusiasm in your tone. “Mama would be more than happy to guide you along the way too. I still attend when I have the time and you could too for passion or for credentials. There’s something for everyone.”

“Absolutely,” your mother chimes into the conversation. “I would love to show you around the school as well, Constanzia. Someday, Gabriella will have to show you her paintings.”

“I would like that very much,” Connie smiles back politely. “I can tell she’s very talented.”

“Thank you,” you blush.

“She’s a nurse by trade, did you know that?” Mama Corleone adds, causing both Theresa and Connie’s eyes to widen in surprise.

“I am,” you admit, noticing how proud your mother looks next to you. “Practice and passion versus hobbies and passion.”

“Wow,” Theresa breathes, “that’s wonderful. How do you like nursing, Gabriella?”

“So far, so good,” you giggle quietly. “I’m fairly new to the practice but I’ve been tending to some injured soldiers lately. It’s practical, and I’m excited to see where the career takes me.”

“A nurse at a baby shower, how nice!” Theresa gushes.

With business conversation endlessly continuing in Vito’s office, Sonny remains to be the only one itching to get out of his seat and at least take cigarette break from the stuffy talk he has no need to contribute too.

Then again, Sonny’s more obligated to listen and consider every word coming out of Vito’s mouth wisely due to being his father’s successor and having to expect the same business talks directed towards him someday.

“You can tell Luca,” Vito gestures to Sonny, grabbing his attention. “Give him a call and let him know, since he won’t listen to Tom anyway.”

Chuckles fill the room as Sonny gives a nod, sighing in relief under his breath and beginning to rise from his seat.

You’ve just stepped into the Corleone manor for a quick bathroom break after getting some much needed directions from Connie on how to navigate the estate; unable to stop yourself from gazing and admiring the furniture and fixtures of the stunning foyer.

Remembering Connie’s words on reaching the first bathroom, you begin to head down the hallway when you momentarily stop in your tracks to sneeze.

Covering your nose, you sneeze quietly and sniffle—instantly feeling a momentary sharp prickle in your nostrils.

Blinking, you continue walking forward—albeit slowly—due to being distracted by the small throbbing pain beginning to start in your nose.

“Ugh…” You rub your nose tenderly, eyes widening in surprise to see droplets of blood over your fingers.

A split second passes before you sneeze again, realizing the culprit is the stuffy and somewhat dust filled air in the hallway getting to you.

It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve experienced something similar, but it annoys you to no avail nonetheless.

You cover your nose and continue heading towards where you assume the nearest bathroom is, being careful so as not to spill any blood on the mahogany floorboards or onto your dress.

“Found it yet?!” You hear Connie’s voice echo down from the foyer as she peaks her head inside the estate.

“Yes, don’t worry!” You let out a half muffled call back, spotting the bathroom at the end of the hallway.

“Alright, I’ll wait for you back outside!” Connie shouts, shutting the front door behind her.

The “yes, don’t worry!” you proclaimed out catches Sonny’s interest instantly; the sound of an unfamiliar, yet sweet voice he’s never heard before.

Stunned, Sonny’s unable to focus on anything else and drowns out the chatter and noise from Vito’s office before he exits out into the hallway and shuts the door of Vito’s office behind him.

You sneeze again, whimpering out of annoyance as you feel blood beginning to trickle from your nose.

Following every sound you make, Sonny furrows his brows and walks downstairs and towards the hallway cautiously—both hands in the pockets of his dress trousers.

Only a split second later does Sonny spot you; an unfamiliar woman with your back facing him, wearing a burgundy swing dress with white kitten heels, your hair curled over your shoulders and more peculiarly, how you clutch your hand over your nose.

“Are you alright?” Sonny speaks out to you, coming closer to step into your line of view.

You blink, assuming one of the Corleone family’s bodyguards or security must have heard you sneezing and walking around the manor by now, but when you turn around you can tell just by the posture and amused expression over the stranger’s face that he’s neither.

Sonny and you don’t know one another nor have you seen each other before. You’re not even aware of what the Corleone men’s names are besides Tom and Vito, and you just learned Tom’s today through Theresa.

Blush instantly hits your cheeks as you feel your skin warm at the sight of Sonny. This man is tall with a slim but lean, fit build; sharp shoulders giving Sonny a firm build, his hair in brunette curls and his jawline chiselled with a smirk over his face.

There’s an air of confidence over Sonny and you can already tell with just a glance that he’s someone important.

You assume just by Sonny’s body language across from you that aggressiveness isn’t unheard of from him, but he seems intrigued and even friendly towards you.

“Oh, fine, thank you,” you answer back, still covering your nose. “I didn’t imagine it to be so stuffy down here.”

Sonny chuckles, stepping closer to you before taking one hand out of his pocket to gesture around to the walls. “The walls in this place are older than you and be combined. Don’t mind that.”

You gaze up at Sonny, unable to stop yourself from blushing as he gets closer to you.

You lower your hand away from your face without even realizing it, revealing your bloody nose to Sonny.

Sonny barely reacts to the sight of blood over your face but the look upon his face that he gives you doesn’t appear the way one would gaze at a stranger or someone they’ve met for the first time; the look in Sonny’s eyes may as well tell him he’s known you his whole life.

Sonny wants to ask you if he’s seen you somewhere or if the two of you know each other from some time ago, but something urges him to keep quiet, knowing the answer must be no.

Sonny’s muscles tense from a rush of arousal hitting him at the sight of you, already wildly attracted to you with no intention of denying it.

“Here,” Sonny reaches into the breast pocket of his suit jacket, pulling out a neatly folded, silk handkerchief before handing it to you. “Don’t let it bleed all over you now.”

You hesitate for a moment, not at Sonny’s kindness but the expensive cloth he’s just handed you to wipe your nose with.

A warm, playful smile crosses Sonny’s lips as he reads through your hesitancy. “You’re Gabriella, aren’t you?”

Sonny knows better. An unfamiliar woman in his house with Mr. Giordano visiting? He’s already beginning to figure you out. Luckily, he didn’t assume you’re Bella.

“I am,” blushing, you answer a little out of breath and take the silk handkerchief from Sonny. “Thank you so much…” Your voice trails off as you realize you don’t know this man’s name.

“Santino Corleone,” Sonny introduces himself t you. “But everyone calls me Sonny.”

‘So he IS a Corleone…’

“Sonny,” you repeat, feeling your cheeks stinging with blush. “Thank you.”

Sonny grins, extending out a hand to shake yours as you wipe your nose with your free one. “It’s nice to meet you at last, Miss Giordano.”

As you shake Sonny’s hand back, you feel the same current of arousal rushing through him go through you.

“We haven’t met before, have we?” Sonny finally asks, unable to shake off the belief that he’s more than just familiar with you.

“This would be the first time,” you shake your head, “it’s nice to meet you as well. I’ve yet to meet your whole family yet, but,” you smile shyly, “thank you for having us to celebrate Tom and Theresa.”

“Thanks for coming,” Sonny smirks, “you’ve probably met Theresa already but Tom will be out in a moment and then you can see him too.”

You don’t notice Sonny’s eager eyes gazing up and down at your figure a split second after.

“Were you looking for someone or something?” Sonny asks you.

“Just the bathroom,” you admit, sheepishly. “I…” Your nose has fortunately stopped bleeding, but you look at the silk handkerchief in your hand to see the crimson mess staining through it.

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” Sonny scoffs; he couldn’t care less about the damn handkerchief.

“If you insist,” you begin to carefully fold the handkerchief in the palm of your hand. “It’s just about the whole reason why I came in.”

“Fair enough,” Sonny forces his eyes off of yours, gesturing further down the hallway. “Unless the whole baby shower is waiting for you to get back, I’ll help you out here. Give you a tour of the estate and every bathroom you can find in here.”

“Oh, Mr—” you correct yourself immediately, “Sonny—I would like that very much but I don’t want to interrupt what you’re doing for something like that—”

“Believe me, I insist,” Sonny interrupts, smiling at you. “Guests come first. It’s really no problem. Let me give you a proper tour around here.”

“Alright then,” you accept, smiling back at him. “If it’s no trouble with you, I’d love to.”

“Alright then, Miss Gabriella,” Sonny moves next to you, leading the way out of the hall. “Stay close to me, alright?”

Blushing furiously, you nod back at Sonny who looks over at you behind his shoulder. “I’m with you.”

There’s no doubt about it; had you refused to go along with Santino and returned back to the baby shower or simply didn’t choose to communicate or see Sonny again after today, of course your life would be different. Either way, it would have changed.

What would you know now in this fleeting moment that couldn’t possibly mean anything else to you, trusting in this influential man son to a powerful Don that you just met, feeling as if he’s suddenly wanted to treat you as someone else in his home other than a guest?

If anyone asked years from now, you would tell them the truth. Yes, you would follow Santino Corleone to the ends of the earth, to hell if you had to and beyond that to meet him in whatever life awaited you next.

This is just the beginning of what destiny has spelled out for you side to side with a man like Santino Corleone.

But for now, you follow Sonny in hopes you’ll get to know this kind stranger and the Corleone family better, because your heart is bound to give in sooner rather than later.

#the godfather #james caan #sonny corleone x reader #sonnycorleone x oc #sonny corleone fanfic #godfather au #sonny corleone smut #sonny corleone x reader smut #sonny corleone #the godfather x reader #godfather x reader #santino corleone x reader #santino corleone x oc #santino corleone fanfic #santino corleone smut #santino corleone x reader smut #santino corleone #mafia wife fic #mafia wife fanfic

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h-harleybaby · 1 year

Note

HEY POOK!!

I found your page this morning and OH MAH LAWRD 😻 WOOF WOOF WOOF, ya know? 😔

Take your time with this request, because I don’t want you to get stressed..

But remember those Eric and Kyle oneshots? Where you are Kyle’s bf but they have their way with you? 😳 (wowzers)

WHAT ABOUT THAT WITH ERIC AND BUTTERS??? LIKE PLS ERICS GF AND BUTTERS JUST SO HAPPENS TO- AHH😩

keep me in ur thoughts 😏

- 🍒

OHHHHHH???????

I’VE BEEN LIKE- TRYING TO WRITE ANOTHER KYLE AND CARTMAN ONE BUT I SUCK AT WRITING KYLE- Cartman and Butters on the other hand???? OOOOOH MAMA (says this as I write whatever comes to mind while I’m at lunch and feeling really embarrassed about it)!! Also I’m like half sure you meant Butters x Cartmans gf reader right??? Sorry if I’m wronggg

Also dw I always think about my anons /hj I love y’all sm

Anyways, thanks to @tiniedemon and @hand-writxen for the ideas while writing. I was stuck on this for the LONGEST time and felt super bad about it. As per usual, I’M NOT SHIPPING THEM IN ANY WAY!!

HAS NSFW CONTENT

Butters x Cartmans gf reader

• Let’s be honest, Cartmans a bit of an voyeur- so when Butters came up to him real apologetic about having a lil crush on his gf it gave him the best idea

• That’s how it started, all of y’all expected it to be a one and done thing BUT NOPE

• But who tf knew that Butters was super fucking horny??? Not you-

• Anyways, the both of them take turns on you ALL THE TIME! It’s mainly because they don’t hate each other so that makes it a hell of a lot easier

• Y’all ever heard of double penetration??? YEAH THATS THEM- JUST HEAR ME OUT ON IT

• They’re both kinda impatient (difference is although Butters might get antsy he can wait, Cartman refuses to) so like, double penetration does happen quite a bit

• Butters has like, no chill tho. He’s super obvious about his crush on you and how he feels about you, dudes ALL over you and it’s kinda cute ngl. It annoys Cartman tho so it usually ends in him making Butters watch y’all fuck or something and not letting him touch you to remind him who’s gf you are

• Butters gets so whiny too, he’s desperate to touch you and he’d do literally anything Cartman tells him just for the chance of a bj or something

• Cartmans a sadist so he usually makes Butters get on his knees and beg or something. That part’s not even sexual he just likes feeling the power 👀

• Tbh Butters is a really sweet, passionate guy so most of the time he puts your pleasure before his own. In his eyes, you come first so ofc he’s gonna make you cum first even if he has to edge himself

• But omg those few times where he really lets go and he’s really rough and uses you 😩

• Anyways so enough of that, ngl Cartman really likes watching Butters eat you out. Sometimes after he jerks off to y’all he has post nut clarity and thinks he’s a lil creepy but that’s like, immediately gone because he realizes he doesn’t care enough

• Honestly, I can see Butters fucking you but Cartman being completely in control the entire time

• He says he wants Butters to edge you? It’s done. He wants you guys to overstim yourselves, DONE

• He loves seeing Butters edge you and himself. Definitely likes seeing the tears of frustration and taunting you about it, calling you his crybaby

• Butters definitely whimpers while edging himself and gets really caught up in how good you feel, hehe Cartman edges himself a couple times too while y’all do 🤭

• Hear me out, he’s super mean about cumming. Literally will not let either of you cum until he does from you sucking him off

• I dunno, orgasm denial is just a huge thing here ya know? Like in his eyes (at the moment) y’all are just fuck toys entertaining him 💅

• Cartman is such a control freak but it’s honestly kinda hot to both of y’all. Butters is definitely more on the sub side a lot of the time so it works out for you guys

• NOW YOU GOTTA HEAR ME OUT AGAIN ‼️ the both of them like watching you get yourself off using toys. Also mutual masturbation ngl. They jerk each other off while watching you <33

• Like I said, orgasm denial is a huge thing so Cartman probably makes you get off on some sort of vibrator but doesn’t let you cum for the longest time because he wants you to beg. He starts rubbing off on Butters at some point and he starts doing similar things

• Would not be surprised if Cartman makes you get off on his shoe (def a new pair he only uses for that purpose because ew, germs) while the two jerk each other off

• EHEHEHE imagine Cartman makes you fuck yourself on a dildo and watches because he says you’re not ready or even worth him and Butters dicks yet

• Definitely says you have to work for it and likes watching you do it. I swear no amount of preparation prepares you for the both of them at the same time. FUCKING ANIMALS

• Anyways, Butters is probably secretly into pegging. Just hear me out ok???

• He really really wants you to peg him while Cartman fucks you (in Cas’ words, a lil train)

• Omg so like, jerking him off while you peg him and Cartman just jerking off the whole time because damn who knew you looked super hot while pegging someone

• I feel like Cartman really likes seeing his cum on your face and at the end of y’all’s… session the two of them usually jerk off on your face and tits

• Butters definitely thinks you look super pretty with cum on you while Cartman kinda sees it as a hot degrading thing

• Sometimes this kinda stuff happens in public where they’re both horny and they literally fight over who gets a blowjob from you because they don’t have much time or privacy

• Anyways, both literally love a good creampie so you best believe that both of them do creampie you. CONSTANTLY

• Round after round man, Cartman just really likes seeing it drip out of you. Probably smacks your pussy (somewhat lightly) just to giggle as you whimper before fingering it back in

• All that is just an instant boner for both of them. THEY’RE INSATIABLE I TELL YOU, INSATIABLE

• Before y’all go out sometimes they both cum in your underwear and make you wear it out after rubbing it in, this definitely isn’t something I saw on an NSFW twitter acc that made me giggle and kick my feet

• They’ve both ruined and owe you SO MANY panties because they keep using them to jerk off or they cum in them. FOR SOME REASON IT STAINS AND JUST RUINS THE PANTIES and both of them feel so proud of doing that

HERE YOU NASTY PEOPLE I’VE FED YOU WITH THIS DECENTLY LONG DICK HCS THING

All jokes aside I really liked writing this so ty for the request babes <33

#h harleybaby needs help #harley’s anons <33 #harley won’t shut her mouth #mom come get harley she’s rambling #south park x reader #south park x reader headcanons #south park x reader smut #south park x y/n #eric cartman x reader #cartman x reader #eric cartman smut #eric cartman x y/n #butters stotch x y/n #butters stotch x reader #butters x reader #Butters x reader smut #harley’s fav posts #harley’s requests!

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saintmurd0ck · 2 years

Note

congrats rhi!!! well deserved 👏🏼💖

🗽 - matt and frank are on the brain. what if you tried going on a date with them?? and they're making each other jealous, which eventually leads to all three of you breaking the bed in matt's apartment 👀

nik baby, thank you so much for this ask. i am so sorry it took so long, BUT i needed it to be absolutely perfect, and i think ive done it. it was absolute perfection, a joy to work on, and clearly you know me so well because this is one of my favourite things to write EVER and i will die on this hill!!!! i love you and thank you for your incredible request <3

winner's streak | frank castle x f!reader x matt murdock

masterlist

summary: you've had a little thing for your neighbours for the longest time. what's the worst that can happen when you ask them both on a date and turn it into a little friendly competition?

warnings: matt & frank roommate au, voyeurism/public exhibition, couple blind jokes, fingering, oral m and f receiving, unprotected p in v, spanking, choking, etc bruh there's so many i cant

THIS IS A LONG ASS FIC (9K WORDS DONT KILL ME) BUT PLEASE ENJOY AND REBLOGS ARE MUCH APPRECIATED

Your groan reverberates against the iron door, echoing into the empty space of the stairwell.

ROOFTOP CLOSED, the paper sign reads, FOR SCHEDULED MAINTENANCE.

It’s impossible for your eyes to roll any further back. Of all days this rooftop is closed, why does it have to be today?

The notice scrunches in your hand as you pull it free from the door, shoving it down into your bag. You’re already annoyed about making the trek up to the rooftop, but thankfully it’s a quick trip back downstairs, and you’re outside on the fire escape in no time. The balmy afternoon wind flushes hot against your face, thin metal railing digging into your forearms as you lean forward, but your chest falls gracefully with the deep exhale that carries with it any negativity.

You’re grateful for the quiet. Besides the occasional siren, you’re high enough that you can barely hear the commotion of the streets – a rarity in this city – and apart from your noisy neighbours to the left, it’s pretty tranquil here.

Keeping an ear out for anyone disturbing your peace, you scout the apartments to either side of you, listening to the ambient sounds and whatever the street below has to offer. Nothing today; nothing except for the brush of wind rustling the trees and dislodging those clumsily pinned flyers you hate. Good.

With no one home around you, and weather almost too perfect for tanning, your hand snakes up your spine to where the strings of your bikini top lay, tied in a careless knot that comes undone in one tug. The summer heat hits your bare chest with a ferocity that surprises you, but you close your eyes and tip your head back, allowing the sun’s warmth to wash over your face and cascade down your body.

But then, it shoots straight at you; a whistling arrow that lodges itself into the centre of your chest. It’s the sound of a breath catching; an inhale so sharp you might mistake it for a hiss. Your head whips to the side.

“Frank,” you seethe, hands flying up to where you’re exposed.

He croaks out your name as your eyes level into his, bewildered stare parting his mouth in an ‘o’. He doesn’t know where to look as you muster a fake smile, tilting your head to the side so saccharinely you feel him cave inwards.

Frank’s body is still square to yours as he looks up to the sky. “Nice uh… sunny day, right?”

You scoff, arms tightening around your chest. “Cut the shit, Frank. Were you spying on me?”

His nostrils flare as he grips his coffee mug, knuckles turning white to the point where you think it’s going to break.

“Well?” you deadpan, a muscle twitching in your jaw.

He sputters at your question, and then it dawns on you.

He’s lost for words.

Your lips curl into a smile. First of all, you’re not really mad per se, you just like seeing him squirm. Secondly, Frank fucking Castle, your utterly menacing, 6 foot, ‘women call me daddy and I benchpress 400 lbs’ neighbour is lost for words. He’s stumbling over every syllable, and it’s like you have him by the balls.

Then again, maybe you just did.

You’ve seen the way he looks at you, not-so-slick with the little half-glances he shoots your way, or how his lips purse when he sees you in the hallway, the vein in his neck popping as an existing string of unholy thoughts undeniably course through his head. He’s always rushing to help you with something, whether it’s to carry your groceries, or to repair anything broken in your apartment.

You never complain, of course. With the way he treats you like a queen, and gets away looking like that? Yeah, you can’t fault his behaviour.

And that was just Frank’s side of things. His polar opposite, puppy-eyed roommate Matt has it just as bad for you, but Matt… oh, Matt… he makes you throb in ways you don’t understand. You’re the kind of girl who will never let a man tell you what to do, but Matt? He makes you want to get on your knees, submit yourself to him, devote yourself whole.

Matt’s not a grand gesture kind of guy as much as Frank is; he’s more of a smooth talker, knowing exactly when and how to lay on the charm. In fact, it’s not just that; he intrigues you. You’re observant – more than you give yourself credit for – and you notice the unexplainable, the somewhat impossible. It’s the bruised knuckles that so often leave his hands stained crimson, the cane that’s nowhere to be seen, the hushed phone calls and (to your displeasure), kiss-bitten lips.

You know a body as cut as his doesn’t come from walking to the office every day.

If you go out on your fire escape at just the right time, and tip your head in just the right direction, you can hear them talking about you. You’ve never admitted it out loud, but your heart flutters with the way Frank describes you to Matt, in what you’re wearing that day, or when he says those mundane things like, ‘she bought the same toothpaste as us!’

Alright, fine. You’ll admit it.

You think about them. A lot.

And in more ways than one.

You’ve indulged in their words, in their actions, in the little things they do that makes your skin hot and your back arch. It’s always variations of the same forbidden fantasy that creep into your mind, images that become more visceral as your fingers slip beyond the thin material of your soaked panties.

And in this fantasy, there's both of them, working you, stuffing you… until you can’t handle anymore, until you cry out both their names as you fall apart.

The worst bit? With time, your desire for them — or, whatever the hell you want to call it — has only grown stronger. It used to be that you’d run into them in the corridor, exchange a few ordinary greetings, maybe flash a pearly smile, and leave as they melt into man-sized puddles. Now if you run into each other, you all leave flustered, fumbling for the locks on your paint-chipped doors, desperately trying to conceal whatever indulgent thoughts you all harbour in your minds.

“You okay?” Frank’s gruff voice snaps you back down to earth.

You shake your head as you snap awake, your doe-eyes meeting his. “Hmm?”

He blushes, fingers straining against his coffee mug. “You just started starin’ off in the distance…”

You offer him a tight-lipped smile as your chest rises with a rapid breath, doing your best to ignore the second pulse that’s appeared in between your legs.

You really had to daydream at the right time, huh?

“Look,” he coughs, diverting his gaze, again, “M’sorry for uh… interruptin’ your–”

The graphic image of his body in yours while Matt’s underneath clouds your vision, and it turns your knees to jelly. “I-it’s fine.”

You spin on your heels, intent on dropping one of your arms to reach for the side door, but you conceive an idea.

“Hey Frank?”

“Yeah?”

You turn to face him. “Let’s go out tonight. You know that wine bar between 10th and 11th?”

He musses a hand through his hair, eyebrows raising as he nods. “Really?”

“What,” you pout, “you don’t wanna?”

A wry smile creeps across your face as he straightens his spine, the intensity of your stare a little too much for him as his eyes flick away, throat bobbing as he shifts in his stance, almost uncomfortably.

Oh.

You stifle a gasp, zoning in on the faint outline of him, straining against his jeans.

Pupils blown and lips pursed, he catches you staring, watching intently as your tongue snakes out to wet your lips. The vein in his neck is as prominent as ever as his eyes wander over your body, at your bikini bottoms that leave almost nothing to the imagination, at your half-naked self standing there in his presence.

An idea crosses your mind. An insanely, obscene, insane idea, but oh, you’re devious. Frank squeezes his coffee mug tighter, eyes pulsating as the corners of your mouth upturn into a cheeky grin…

And your hands drop from your chest.

All you hear is the soft murmur of a holy shit, the ceramic mug shattering apart in his hands, and the sound of your laugh echoing in the wind, carrying itself across the rooftops.

“I’ll see you tonight at 7, Frank.”

Matt catches you in the hallway later that day as you’re running errands, heartbeat thundering in your ears as he walks himself into your shoulder. He murmurs a quick ‘sorry’, straightening his suit jacket, preparing to continue his walk ahead.

“It’s me, Matt!” you call out, biting your lips he turns, his composure cracking with an infectious chuckle and a smile that crinkles his eyes.

He motions to his cane, shrugging his shoulders. “Whoops.”

Rolling your eyes, you push off your heels, inching closer to him, his voice smooth in your ears. “How was your day?”

You focus on a small piece of white lint sitting awkwardly on Matt’s lapel as he shifts his weight onto one foot, running your tongue over your teeth as you contemplate whether or not to flick it off.

“Actually,” you start, heat singeing the back of your neck as Frank pops into your mind, “you know what? It wasn’t that bad. How was yours?”

Matt chuckles half-heartedly, nodding. “That’s uh, that’s great to hear. Mine was… well, we received a hundred rhubarb pies as payment today. S’for a client we helped a while back.”

He leans his head in towards your giggle, hand flying up to loosen his tie. “Alright, I’m exaggerating,” – he tips his head to the side – “I’m told there were… four, at best, but Foggy’s acting like we have that many.”

A moment of silence passes between you, nothing but a gust of warm wind filling the negative space. Your breath picks up as your mind races. Say something. Anything.

A look of uncertainty flashes across Matt’s face as he purses his lips, hand coming up to brush against his stubble. “Look, I’ve– I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while, but–”

“For a while?” you interject, raising your eyebrows.

“Yeah, a while,” – he rounds his shoulders, both hands gripping his cane – “d’ya wanna get a drink somewhere?”

“Are you asking me on a date, Matthew?”

He laughs, cheeks reddening at your question. “Only if that’s fine with you.”

“Hang on a second, how long exactly have you been thinking about this?”

Flustered, Matt pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, dimples showing as he tries to hide his sheepish smile. “A while.”

“Stop me when I get close.”

He grins from ear-to-ear.

“One month?” you ask.

“No.”

You feign surprise. “Three months?”

“Nope.”

Matt laughs as you gasp, loudly. Too loudly. “A year.”

“Longer than that, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

The nickname pools in your thighs, heating the tips of your ears, forcing you to bite back a moan.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” Matt asks, nudging your foot with his cane.

What about Frank?

The memory of the obvious tent in Frank’s jeans tugs on the knot building behind your stomach.

“I– well, I have the apartment to myself tonight, so I could cook. For you,” Matt says, voice lined with anticipation.

“Huh,” you look up, swallowing a laugh. “Frank isn’t home tonight?”

Matt scrunches his face. “Uh… no. He said he had something on. I figured I might as well take advantage of the quiet.”

In an instant, a thought blossoms in your mind. It’s devious, it is so goddamn devious, but oh…

So are you.

You step forwards, breath coming out a little shaky as the heat from his body reflects onto yours. Reaching a hand up to his lapel, you brush off the lint you were eyeing earlier, indulging in the earnest grunt that falls from Matt’s lips.

“7 PM,” you whisper in his ear. “Meet me at the wine bar between 10th and 11th.”

He presses your hand against his collarbone, holding it steady as he tilts his head downwards. You’re shuddering at his touch, at the warmth and tingles it shoots through your veins, at the unexpected coarseness of his hands.

“It’s a date,” he confirms, letting go of your hand, the dimples in his grin remaining as he unlocks the door to his apartment.

The wine bar is intimate; only the sounds of hushed whispers and the clinking of glasses keeping you company. You tap your fingers against the lacquered wooden table, sucking in your cheeks as you look at the time. 7.15 PM. You’re a little annoyed, not just at the fact that they’re late, but at the straps of your sundress, thin and finicky things sliding off your shoulders with even the tiniest of movements. A sigh escapes your lips, condensation blooming across the wineglass in front of your face. Maybe they figured you’d double booked them, asked them to the same venue and on the same date without saying much more. So much for your devious little plan, huh?

You pick at your nails, wine crisp on your tastebuds, each subsequent sip making you dizzy, but slowly taking the edge off. Who cares if they don’t show up? You need a night out anyway.

As if on cue, the door opens, catching on the little silver doorbell, and Frank steps inside, a bouquet of flowers in hand. Your breath hitches in your throat as you take him in. He’s somehow even more ruggedly handsome tonight, sharp jawline perfectly illuminated by the warm lighting.

He apologises to you profusely, pulling you in for a tight hug, the contact from the muscles flexing under his thin shirt heating your skin. He motions to the bartender for a glass of whatever you’re having, setting the flowers down beside you.

He rests his forearms on the table, dark eyes peering into yours. “Will you excuse my tardiness, pretty girl?”

Oh, my fuck. What the hell is it with you and nicknames?

‘Pretty girl’ jolts you upright with a throb, and it takes every single ounce of strength you possess not to just uproot him by the collar and have him right then and there. Unfortunately, your reaction is poorly masked, and you’re forced to watch as Frank’s knowing smile grows, stretching larger as the bartender brings him his drink.

“Cheers,” he says, lifting his glass to yours, tongue peeking out to wet his lips, eyes moving lazily up and down your torso.

Frank leans back in the booth as he takes a sip, his shirt riding up to expose the smallest sliver of skin. “So, uh, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the reason for,” – he waves his hands around – “all this?”

You swallow what’s left of your wine, pressing your lips together. What were you supposed to say, that you were sick of the sexual tension and all you wanted was to have fun with Frank and his equally sexy roommate?

You say something else instead. “I like being spontaneous, Frank.”

He cocks his head to the side, raising his eyebrows. “S’that so?”

You let out a sharp laugh. “I’m sick of doing the same thing all the time, and I need a little change in scenery.”

Frank shuffles towards you, muscles rippling under his long-sleeved shirt. “And you think I can do that for ‘ya?”

A half-smirk tugs on the corners of your lips as your fingers start to dance to where his hands are resting on the table…

But you jerk your hand back, ears pricking up at the sound of the door swinging open and slamming against the wooden frame, followed by a loud ‘sorry’ offered to whoever’s tending the bar.

Your stomach turns as the bartender guides Matt to your table at your signal.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Still think this is a good idea?

You’re not sure where to look as Frank’s sour expression shoots daggers straight at you, moving over hesitantly to make room for Matt in the booth.

Matt’s cold shoulder towards Frank is way too obvious as he sits down, setting his neatly folded cane on the table.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he swallows, “I had something I had to… take care of. But I came here as soon as I could.”

You glance down, flinching at the scabs across his knuckles, at the deep purple bruise on his cheek marring his features. There it is again, that thing about him you can’t quite figure out.

“Yeah, okay, the fuck is this?” Frank turns to you, quizzical look bordering on anger.

“I’m sorry, I thought this was a date,” – Matt chimes in, wagging his finger at you – “between the two of us”.

“She asked me here, Red,” Frank whips his head around, shoulders tensing.

Matt scoffs, throwing his head back. “You? She asked you.”

Frank grits his teeth, fists clenching tightly together. “Shut the hell up. At least I had the decency to get the lady flowers.”

Matt laughs scornfully. “Oh yeah Castle, that’s so original of you.”

“We needa take this outside, Red?”

The clink of three whiskey glasses being set down on your table is loud enough to collapse their argument.

The server clears their throat. “Excuse me. Courtesy of that man over there,” — they pause, pointing — “if you keep it down.”

You thank the server, flashing an apologetic smile at the man in the corner, and pull a glass towards you, tipping it straight into your mouth. Frank does the same, waving at the bar for three more, while Matt sips his furtively, licking his lips before he swallows.

“I can explain,” you start, grateful for the warmth of the whiskey spreading through your veins.

Your face grows hot as Matt and Frank sit back in the booth, training their attention on you. With your heart thundering in your chest, the alcohol rushes to your head, hitting you with that little bit of confidence you need.

You lean forwards on the table, cocking your head to the side. “Let’s not sugarcoat this, alright?”

Frank shoots a sideways glance at Matt.

“You two think you’re so slick with your looks, and comments and… sink fixing,” you say, fingers curling into fists, “but the truth is, you don’t hide it well. At all.”

Matt presses his lips together as he slides his glasses up the bridge of his nose, while Frank takes a shallow breath.

Your forearms are now completely on the wood as you inch closer. “If you want me, you can just say so.”

The space between the three of you suddenly goes dead quiet; so quiet it’s as if time has fallen away, leaving you in your own little bubble.

“It’s lucky,” you pause, “that I have an affinity for you both. And I thought maybe… just maybe, we could have a little fun together.” You turn your head, making sure Frank catches the mischievous glint in your eyes.

You’re so far forwards now that your head is in between theirs, and you bring your hands up to their cheeks, pushing them closer to you. With their heads almost touching, and your lips one breath away from their ears, you feel the shudder running through their spines reverberate into your body. “Maybe we can make it a little interesting, hmm? Only if you’re up for it,” you wink.

Matt’s smirk peaks your nipples, spurring you to lower your voice, words dripping like honey. “Let’s just say the person who makes me cum the most tonight can take me on a real date.”

To his credit, Matt keeps his cool, merely interlacing his hands together on the table, sucking his cheeks in. Frank curses under his breath, gaze narrowing as he studies you, contemplating your proposition.

Matt is the first to speak, his voice dipping an octave. “Let’s go.”

Frank jerks his head in Matt’s direction, eyes wide. “Huh?”

Matt’s tone is insistent now. “Let’s get outta here.”

“Fuck, Red,” Frank whispers, hand coming up to stroke his chin, as the server sets three more whiskeys down on the table.

You exchange a glance with Frank before you throw back the liquid, head shaking as it burns the back of your throat. They follow suit, wasting no time at all, and while Frank leaves a generous tip at the table, you make a beeline for the door.

The cab is way too small for the three of you, but you squeeze into the middle seat anyway, biting back a wicked grin as Matt leans forward to give the driver his address.

There’s not a lot of space – well, not when you’re caught between two individuals with the muscle mass of an entire Planet Fitness combined – but you try to relax, heart racing as your body presses up against theirs. Something clenches in your jaw as you shuffle in the seat, the paper-wrapped bouquet of flowers crinkling by your feet. You’re not sure where to put your hands, but they come to settle at the edge of your sundress, where it’s ridden up almost beyond the point of modesty.

A thick finger sweeps against the back of your neck, catching you off-guard. The half-gasp half-cough you let out is louder than intended, and it draws the attention of the cab driver, who looks at you from his rearview mirror.

“Everything okay, miss?” he asks, concerned.

You will yourself to snap out of it, out of that lust-filled daze, squeezing your legs together as the throbbing in between your thighs intensifies.

“Yes,” you gulp. “Everything’s fine, thank you.”

Frank waits until the driver flicks his gaze back to the road ahead. “Didn’t mean to scare ‘ya, sweetheart. You want me to stop?”

You purse your lips. “No.”

He takes his hand away from your neck and hovers over the patch of skin your sundress did cover. He drags the tips of his fingers up your thigh, stopping just high enough to hear the tremble in your breath, shooting you a half-smirk as you suck your cheeks in.

“Frank.” Matt’s tone is stern as he tilts his chin upwards, nostrils flaring with his rising temper. “I thought we agreed to wait.”

Frank’s laugh is mirthlessly low. “Who said that, Red?”

You stare at your knee, at the big hand that’s found its mark. You’ve never noticed how gorgeous Frank’s hands are, the way he keeps his fingernails neatly trimmed, forked veins on the topside pulsating as he grips tighter, the light pink striations of healed scars running over his knuckles. And those fingers… God, if his fingers are that thick already, what would his–

You bite down on your lip, hard, as Frank pulls your knee towards him, spreading you apart in the seat. Fuck. Every nerve in your body is on fire as he lifts your hand up to his mouth, static electricity buzzing as his lips graze over your knuckles.

While Frank’s other hand slides under your dress, up to where the thin waistband of your panties sit, Matt leans over, as if to fix his seatbelt. Your eyes lull back in your head as he creeps forward instead, fingers skimming the inside of your thigh, their combined actions threatening to elicit a moan from your lips.

You’re not in control anymore.

Actually, you haven’t been in control for ages. It takes all of your willpower – well, what’s left of it – to not cry out, to not sit as far back as possible and let them…

“That’ll be $29.30,” the driver announces, brakes screeching as he pulls up outside your apartment building.

“Fuck!” you curse under your breath, reaching for your purse as you pull down your dress.

Matt grabs your wrist, locking it in place as he takes out his wallet, gliding one finger along the top of the bills.

“I think this is a 50… Frank, a little help please?” Frank grunts in agreement as Matt hands the bill to the driver. “Keep the change.”

You don’t care that you flash Frank a little as he helps you out, smirking as you watch his chest tighten at the little scrap of fabric barely covering you, clenching the bouquet of flowers in his other hand. You yelp as he pulls you out towards him, flush against the hard muscle of his chest.

His gaze is piercing as he tips your chin upwards, irises paper thin around blown pupils. “You sure you know what you’re gettin’ into, pretty girl?”

You swat his hand away. “Oh Frank, I’m not quite sure you’re ready for me.”

“What, you think I can’t handle you or somethin’?”

He trains his eyes on your mouth as it shifts into a wry smile, your tongue darting out to lick your lips in one smooth motion. Frank opens his mouth to retort, to say something with the intention of buckling your knees, but Matt walks up to you with perfect timing, offering you his arm.

“Walk with me?”

Frank groans, throwing his head back. “How many times do I have to tell ‘ya, Red? You can’t keep using that trick. What happens the day someone says no, huh? Can’t walk by yourself?”

A hearty laugh bubbles from Matt’s chest. “First of all, go to hell. Secondly,” – his voice drops to a whisper – “no one’s gonna say no to a blind man.”

He turns to you, arm still on offer. “Right, sweetheart?”

You savour the priceless look on Frank’s face as you take Matt’s arm, linking it in yours. “Absolutely, Matthew.”

The walk upstairs to their apartment is excruciatingly slow; every step laced with the type of tension that sits thickly in the air. Arm still in tow with Matt’s, Frank trails behind the two of you, the thud of his boots against the wood echoing loudly in the stairway. You can feel him staring at you, at the way your dress flutters with each step upwards, the little glimpses of your ass making his mouth go dry.

Matt stops on the next landing, jerking your arm to do the same. Wordlessly, he drops his cane to the ground, unlinking his arm, tilting his chin upwards as if to settle his phantom gaze on you.

His lips are on yours before you can say anything, hands dropping to your waist, inching you towards the wall until he has you pinned. You mewl as he slips the straps of your dress off your shoulders, trailing his kisses down your neck, pressing himself into you.

“If there’s anything you’re uncomfortable with,” – he rasps, nipping a sensitive spot on your neck – “you tell us, okay?”

He smirks against your mouth as you tell him ‘yes’, dragging the tips of his fingers from your collarbone down your arm.

But the kiss is over as quickly as it started.

“Hey, hey, hey, what the fuck, Red?” Frank spits, yanking Matt back by the collar.

“Fuck you, Frank,” Matt retorts, stepping forward as his hands tighten into fists.

You stifle a giggle, trying your best not to show your amusement at the flowers that undercut Frank’s tone.

Frank looks at you, nostrils flaring at the way Matt’s messed up your hair. “Darlin’, it’s a fair competition, yeah?”

Matt interjects as you start to agree. “Alright, Castle, then tell me how much fun you had before I got there. You had a head start.”

Frank throws his hands up in the air, shaking his head. “For God’s sake Red, I didn’t ask for you to be late–”

Matt presses his lips together, cupping his hands over his face, the exasperation in his voice imminent. “I had things to do, Frank, I–”

You clear your throat. “Why don’t you two save this for when we’re upstairs, huh?”

They turn their heads in your direction, nodding.

The two remaining flights of stairs disappear under your feet in a matter of seconds.

You swear you hear a crack as Frank bursts into the apartment, ushering you in as he scrambles to kick the front door closed. Matt lets out a little laugh as you drag him inside, stomach twisting as he yanks your hand, spinning you towards him. His lips find yours in an instant as he shrugs his suit jacket off, hands coming up to cup your jaw.

Bouquet of flowers still in hand, Frank rushes to find a vase, faucet creaking as he waits for it to fill up.

“Hey!” he yells out, “Better not start anything without me!”

Matt breaks away from your kiss to undo his tie, whipping his head towards Frank in the kitchen. “Like you waited in the cab?”

He groans into your mouth as your tongue swipes along his bottom lip, teeth gently clashing together as he steadies his hands on your face.

“Frank?!” Matt calls, pulling off his glasses.

“Yeah?”

“Here.” Matt throws his glasses at Frank, who catches them in one hand, setting them onto the counter with a soft click.

As his mouth meets yours again, Matt’s hands begin to wander. As his thumbs brush over your nipples, he dances his fingers upwards, lingering for a moment on the hollow of your throat, coaxing a soft gasp from you as he uses a knuckle to trace its outline.

His lips skirt your collarbone as he lifts your dress up, grunting as he kneads your ass, grinding his hard cock into your leg. He continues moving his hands up to where your panties sit on your hips, picking at the waistband, listening intently for the snap of the elastic against your skin as he lets go.

There it is again, that fucking smirk.

“Matt,” you exhale sharply, nipping at his earlobe as he snaps your waistband once again. “Matt…”

“God, I love it when you say my name like that,” he groans, tugging your panties down your thighs.

He presses closer to you, wedging his hand under your dress, tracing a finger up your slick folds. You’re squirming in place, chest heaving as he puts pressure on your clit, circling it in a way that pulls on the knot building behind your stomach.

You make a sound you’ve never heard before as Frank comes up behind you, thick hands gripping your waist, holding you in place, steadying you for something you’ve only ever fantasised about.

Matt sinks his fingers into you, thumb still moving over your clit, brushing up against that spot that makes you see stars.

“Attagirl,” Frank whispers, as you tip your head back into his shoulder, vision going blurry at the way Matt curls his fingers inside you.

You’re a mess, dripping all over his hand, keening into his touch.

Frank’s voice is husky in your ear. “Look up at – that’s right, baby, look up at me.”

You stare into Frank’s eyes, mouth parted in a perfect ‘o’ as Matt growls, thumb so slick with your arousal that he glides over your clit with ease. All you manage to get out is ‘mmhm’ before Frank brings his fingers to your lips, commanding you to ‘suck’.

Frank purses his lips, throat bobbing as you seal your mouth around his fingers, bucking against Matt’s touch, eyes rolling back as he hits the back of your throat, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“That’s right, darlin’,” Frank rasps, watching the uneven rise and fall of your chest, the telltale sign of your impending release.

Your cry is muffled as your orgasm rips through your body, flooding Matt’s hand, his own slacks staining with his leaking precum. There’s a string of spit clinging to Frank as he slides his fingers out from your mouth with a pop, but it doesn’t phase him; not one bit. In fact, he tips his head down to look at you like a trophy, something like a mix of awe and desire manifesting in his darkened gaze.

You wobble as Matt and Frank step away from you, slipping your dress off as you right your balance on the couch behind, bracing your wrists on the soft leather.

But there’s no rest for the wicked, and Frank beckons you towards him as he pulls his shirt off, leaving it in a heap on the floor. He sweeps you in for a kiss, full lips insistent against yours. He’s a little rougher than Matt, but somehow, his mouth is more forgiving, warm and soft as it melds to yours. You break the kiss, stepping back for a second to look him up and down, taking in as much detail as possible.

“Holy hell,” you say, Frank’s responding expression evidence that you actually said that out loud, and not in your head.

He looks at the floor, shyly messing a hand through his hair. “S’there uh… something you like?”

“Something I like?!” you exclaim, ogling him.

“Shut up, Frank. How the– Oh my God, Matt, get over here,” you command, motioning Frank to come up behind you.

You waste no time in unbuttoning Matt’s shirt, working your way from top to bottom. Unlike Frank and his efforts to woo you by walking around shirtless, you’ve never seen Matt without clothes on. He’s always in something, to your disdain…

Until now.

A gasp escapes your lips – partly from the way Frank’s leaving marks all over your neck – at Matt’s tanned skin underneath, at what he’s been hiding this entire time. You run your hand over the vast expanse of him, jaw dropping as he flexes underneath your hand, rigid muscle sending heat to your core. Your heart stills at the scars flecking his torso, some well healed, some angry and red as if they’re new.

Frank skirts his fingers over your nipples, pulling from you the tiniest whimper.

“Uh…” Matt starts, vacant eyes flicking upwards. “I can explain–”

Your voice hushes to a whisper. “Don’t worry about it, Matty, j-just… just c’mere, okay?”

The sound of Frank’s belt being unbuckled makes your breath catch in your throat, the clinking of metal ringing faintly in your ears as your fingers graze the deep vee lines on Matt’s hips. You watch as Matt sucks his cheeks in, cock twitching against the fabric of his slacks as you hook yourself into his waistband, pulling him closer to you by his belt.

Your mouth melts against his before you turn to Frank, who you know is desperate for attention from the way his arousal presses hard into your back. His tongue slips against yours, hand curving your jaw, tracing the contours of your face before it settles on your breast, drawing out a stifled moan as he rolls your nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

“Alright Red,” Frank pants into your mouth, “I’m done being nice.”

Matt laughs scornfully as he kisses your neck hungrily, reaching around to your aching cunt once more.

Frank grunts as you palm him over his underwear, throwing his head back at the sensitivity of your touch. “Baby, did he make you cum good?”

You gulp, nodding as Frank smacks Matt’s hand away, rough fingers taking residence on your clit. “Yeah, Frank.”

He flashes you a cheeky grin. “Really? ‘Cause that was altar boy’s first time touchin’ a pussy.”

Matt puffs his chest out, striding forward. “Oh, you–”

Frank offers Matt nothing but a smug laugh as he picks you up over his shoulder, fingers digging into your waist as he carries you to the couch like you weigh nothing. Goosebumps erupt all over you as the cool leather makes contact with your skin, then as Frank knocks your knees apart with the push of a hand. A chill runs down your spine as you bare yourself to them, and although you know Matt can’t see you spread out like you want him to, you get the idea he knows exactly what’s going on; maybe the scent of your heightened arousal is easier for him to pick up.

“I haven’t let you off the hook, Castle,” Matt snarls. “You and me? After this we’re gonna settle it our way, yeah?”

“If it makes you sleep better at night, then yeah,” Frank retorts, head settling in between your legs.

Matt curses under his breath, fists coming up to press against his forehead. “Okay– just, fine. Just describe her to me Frank? Can you do that, then we’re even?”

“For now.”

“Fine, for now.”

You wiggle up on the couch, propping yourself up by your elbows as Frank flares his nostrils, inhaling you before him. “Fuck Red… the way she’s lyin’ on her back, spread out like this…”

Matt shudders as he palms himself, nodding.

You feel yourself heating up as you continue listening. “And she’s– she’s fucking drippin’, God, fuck.”

“Yeah?” Matt pants, shrugging off his slacks, hand closing around his cock as it springs free, tip leaking with precum. “Keep going.”

“And now, I’m gonna lick her pretty little clit.” Frank looks into your eyes, lips pressed together in a hard line. “You want me to do that for you, baby?”

The way your breath shakes as you say ‘yes’ makes the both of them smirk.

Then, Frank’s tongue flattens against your clit, drawing from you a sound you’ve only ever made while fantasising about them, only in the privacy of your bedroom, of your shower, and wherever else you’ve thought about them. Your back arches as he licks wet circles into you, pressure feeling like velvet on the most sensitive part of your body.

Matt finds a spot next to you as he strokes himself, eyes squeezed shut as the sounds you make travel through his body. You reach out, wrapping your hand around his cock as he leans over to play with your tits, marvelling at the thick length before you, at the way it looks like it was made for your pleasure.

‘Come here, Matt. You’re begging to be sucked’ are all the words you can manage in between moans, but he comes up right next to you, slapping his tip on your tongue. He groans as you lick along the underside of him, along the prominent vein that pulsates with every touch. He lets out a half-cry as you seal your mouth over him, taking him in so deep that he hits the back of your throat.

You start to bob your head, hand coming up to work his shaft in tandem, but Frank’s tongue slipping itself into the warmest, wettest part of you breaks you wholly, head tipping back as your peak sails through you.

Mouth and chin glistening with your cum, Frank looks up at you smugly, watching your erratic breathing as you come down from your high. He wipes his mouth before pushing off the couch to take his underwear off, cock so hard it slaps against his stomach. Your mouth goes dry at the girth, legs crossing over from the thought of him stretching you out; the pain that’ll give way to pleasure.

You get off the couch to kneel between them both, rug under your knees semi-cushioning you from the hardwood floor. A shudder runs through your body as you look up at them, standing tall over you, every hard contour of muscle illuminated in the dim light of the apartment. Pupils dilated and mind buzzing with the thought of every single thing you’d like to do to their bodies, you reach upwards, hands closing around their cocks, throbbing and warm under your touch. Your strokes are languid as you relish in the sounds that tumble from their mouths, string of curses music to your ears.

As your pace quickens, Matt tangles a hand in your hair. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this for,” he says, jerking your head back ever-so-slightly at the jolt of pleasure that runs through his body.

“Hmm,” you chuckle, flattening your tongue on his head, the half-howl half-cry he gives you making your legs shake. “And what about you, Frank?” You look up at him with innocent eyes as you shift to his cock, coating him in your saliva as he fucks the back of your throat.

He ruts into your mouth, grunting the words out. “Ever since I first laid eyes on you, darlin’.”

You move back to Matt, hand gliding easier along Frank’s length with the help of your spit, licking the underside of him before you take him all into your mouth. “Did you ever think this was gonna happen?”

Frank laughs as you push them together closer to you, taking turns to blow them. “You should see Red, jerkin’ himself to the thought of you.”

Frank jabs Matt in the chest lightly. “He’s not quiet about it.”

Matt turns red in the darkness, pursing his lips as his cock hits a spot at the back of your throat, making you gag. “Oh and what about you, Castle?”

Frank’s voice is gruff as he reaches down to play with your nipples. “Oh shut it, Red.”

You render them speechless for a second as you stuff them both into your mouth, stretching your lips to fit them in as much as possible. They’re big, bigger than you’ve ever had, so they barely fit, but God, you’re so good, trying to please them both at the same time.

“Fuck,” they curse, voices dropping an octave, Matt’s hand coiling tighter in your hair. Tears spill down your cheeks as you get sloppier, strings of saliva following you from one cock to the other.

“I can hear you,” – Matt pants – “saying her name in the shower.”

“Yeah, so? Maybe I did, once or twice.”

“No, no, no,” Matt laughs, “Not once or twice. All the damn time.”

Frank growls as Matt opens his mouth, fake moaning your name brazenly. “Cum for me darlin’, cum for m–”

A well placed kick to Matt’s ankle shuts him up, making him stumble backwards. “Yeah, okay, now I’m gonna say that to her for real.”

Frank shuffles behind you, bending you over the coffee table, pinning your outstretched arms at the wrists. The rug burn on your knees makes you hiss, but the resounding smack on your ass distracts you from the pain. It’s soothed by Frank’s wet cock slapping gently against his handprint, and then the trail of kisses he leaves from the welt to your pussy. He licks a broad stripe up your folds before plunging his fingers inside you, tongue exploring every part of you to see what sounds you make, what you like… what’s gonna get you to your next orgasm.

You let out a sharp exhale as you feel Frank being shoved away, the night air cold on your bare pussy, but you’re sent straight back to heaven as Matt’s mouth meets your core, tongue slipping inside your entrance as he spreads you apart with his hands. You recognise him by the way he eats you; he’s so much more gentler than Frank, taking his time with you as he worships your body.

But you’re not ready for the sensation of Frank lapping at your clit while Matt tongue-fucks your hole, the mewls and whimpers falling from your lips spurring them on to lick faster, prod deeper. You feel the pressure behind your stomach building to a crescendo, one that’s broken apart as you hear the sound of scuffling behind you, turning to see that Frank’s put Matt in a headlock.

Your eyes roll backwards in annoyance, frustrated at the way they’ve left you high and dry, a mix of your cum and their saliva dripping down your thighs and no orgasm to match.

“Darlin’?” Frank calls, slamming his hands on Matt’s chest.

“Yes, Frank?” you mumble, stretching your back over the coffee table.

“You want my cock?”

“Yes.”

In a flurry, Frank gets Matt flat on the ground enough that he can’t rise up to retaliate, not quickly at least, before pushing himself right into you. The combination of his thick girth and length makes you sweat, makes your eyes lull back in your head; the burn of the stretch slowly giving way to pleasure as he grinds into you.

He pulls back, far enough that you feel only the tip of him remaining inside, before slamming his hips into yours. You fall apart instantly as he drives his cock into that spot inside you, walls clenching and back arching as you pulsate around him.

Matt gets up, feet poised into a stance that screams ‘I’m gonna fucking kill you, Frank.’

“Did you? Did you just make her –”

“You’re goddamn right I did.”

Matt lets out an angry sigh before he helps you up, leading you to the dining table. He hoists you up on the table, brushing your hair to the side before grinning in your ear, every word dripping with want. “Alright sweetheart, here’s what’s gonna happen okay? I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve. None of that bullshit Castle’s been giving to you this whole time.”

The quiver in your breath makes him chuckle. “Ready for me to fuck that pretty pussy of yours?”

He drags his teeth along your pulse as you murmur ‘yes’ in his ear, nipping at the bruises Frank’s already left on your neck. You dig your nails into his shoulder as he traces himself on your folds, teasing you until you squeeze him, desperate for the gratification you know his cock will provide.

Frank comes up beside you, bending down to swirl his tongue over your nipple, fingers featherlight on your clit as he rubs it in small circles. You bite down on your bottom lip as Matt guides himself inside you, pushing until he can’t go any deeper, Frank’s fingers still wedged in between you.

He grits his teeth as he fucks you, one hand on your waist and the other wrapped around your thigh, the wet squelches of his thrusts almost too much for him to bear. Matt isn’t as girthy as Frank, but he reaches the deepest parts of you effortlessly, pistoning himself at an angle that makes you cry out his name. The way he drills himself into you echoes throughout the room, the sound of his hips snapping against yours the only thing you can focus on before you throw your head back, exploding on him.

Matt’s cocky grin makes you weak as he pulls out, chin levelling into Frank’s glowering stare. He brandishes his hands in front of him, palms pointed to you as if to say, ‘your turn now’.

Frank huffs at Matt as he scoops his hands under your ass, pulling you closer to the edge of the table. He wastes no time in filling your body with his, bending his knees as he drives himself upwards. You’re cockdumb at this point, eyes half-lidded and utterly glazed over, dopey smile the only thing you can muster as Matt tilts your chin up to his, kissing you hungrily as you moan into his mouth. Every thrust pulls from you a little mumble of unintelligible words, every nerve of yours firing at rates you didn’t think possible.

“Who’s winning, baby? Me or Frank?” Matt purrs, tongue scraping along your bottom lip.

“You’re b– fuck! Fuck, Frank!” – you say, in between his ruthless thrusts and the wicked gleam from his smile – “You’re both so good.”

You clench so tightly that Frank pops out of you for a second, but he doesn’t wait a beat to stuff himself back into you, continuing the relentless pace you know will have you ripped apart within minutes.

“That’s not good enough for us, darlin’,” Frank grits his teeth, hands digging into your ass.

“Sweetheart, I can’t even see and I know he’s not fucking you right.”

Frank snarls at Matt, swatting him out of the way as he lifts you onto his cock, off the table. Gripping your lower back, he pumps into you harder, the new angle making you want to tip your head back and howl. Ecstasy shoots through your veins as he carries you to the bedroom, cock still buried deep inside you.

He rakes his nails up your back as he uses your waist as leverage, moving you up and down on his cock with almost no effort at all.

“Yeah darlin’,” he groans, “You feel so fuckin’ good for me, you know that?”

You whimper in response, kissing him to muffle the cry that builds up from within… and your peak sails through your body, every muscle going taut, toes curling, fingernails leaving marks on his shoulders as your overstimulated body responds to his pleasure.

He lowers you on the bed, bracketing your head with his forearms, languid kisses matching the pace of his hips. You can feel every inch of him as he thrusts into you, body expanding to accommodate him as he stills inside.

“You’re fucking infuriating, Castle,” Matt barks, standing over the two of you as he strokes himself.

“Yeah, well, if you ain’t strong enough to fuck her standing, just say so,” Frank chuckles mirthlessly, coaxing you over the edge once more.

“You didn’t give me the goddamn chance!”

“Chance?” Frank spits, squeezing one of your tits, mattress dipping as he gets off the bed. “Oh by all means Red, be my guest.”

You’re caught between a gasp and a sharp exhale as fury embeds itself in Matt’s face, lips contorting into a snarl. You’ve never seen this side of him before; this dark edge simultaneously scaring you and turning you on more than you already are.

Something snaps in Matt.

He moves so quickly you almost miss it, akin to lightning flashing in a thunderstorm, pile-driving Frank into the bed so hard it’s a tangle of limbs and testosterone. Frank hits the bed, hard, hissing as Matt’s fist makes contact with his jaw, and then…

The soft splintering of wood, pricking Matt’s ears, sending him on high alert.

And the bed breaks. Two out of four legs collapsing in on themselves, the entire bed sinking on one side, catching all three of you off guard.

“Oops,” Matt grimaces, sheepish smile adorning his face.

Frank clicks his tongue, shaking his head at the broken bed as he gets up to his feet. “Goddamn it, Red. Really had to let your anger get the better of ‘ya, huh?”

You don’t care that your words are slurring a little. You’re cockdazed, and they better learn how to deal with it real fast. “Oh my God. You know what? I’m so sick of– I should’ve never made this bet if it was gonna get you two riled up like this–”

You wobble as you stand up, scowl scrunching your nose as you bare your teeth. “I’m so–”

Matt shuts you up with a kiss, not caring that your teeth clash a little, pulling you close to him by the ass. The feeling of his hard cock pressed up against your stomach melts you from within, drawing out a moan you can’t bite back.

“You’re right, sweetheart. We’re sorry,” Matt murmurs, tangling his fingers in the back of your head.

“Yeah darlin’, he’s right. We can get uh… a little competitive,” Frank lowers his voice, coming up behind you to press his kisses into your neck.

You scoff, but it’s quickly replaced by a soft sound, one that indicates you’re far from being done.

“I dunno, Red, you think she still wants us?” Frank grits, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Oh yeah,” Matt smirks, rubbing his cock on your clit, “I think she does.”

“I promise we’re gonna make it up to you, alright?” Frank teases, running his finger over the curve of your jaw. “Whatcha say, Red, wanna stuff her and make her scream for us?”

Matt’s devious smirk grows larger. “Only if she’s fine with it.”

He tips your chin upwards, the action exposing your neck enough so Frank can close his hand around it. “Are you fine with that?”

“You got some making up to do, gentlemen.”

“S’that a yes?” they say together.

“Yes.”

“Well, the bed is broken,” Matt sniffs the air, “but, we have all night and the entire apartment to explore, right?”

Matt’s grin is different now. Devilish.

And more so when Frank reciprocates it, eyes glinting with a feral hunger. “You’re damn right.”

#matt murdock #matt murdock smut #frank castle #frank castle smut #frank castle x reader smut #the punisher #matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle x matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader x matt murdock #matt murdock x reader x frank castle #rhi's mutuals 💗#daredevil #rhi responds 💌#saintmurd0ck 200 milestone celebration #rhi writes 💻#x reader

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nightmarerodent · 1 month

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I really enjoy reading your headcannons!

Tell me, do you have like... Very sad once? About mk kids? 👀

I m sorry if my question sounds too cruel or rude--

Oh no worries, Honey. I love torturing my kiddos. 😁

Cassie has massive imposter syndrome and anxiety around her position as a leader.

When she was a kid, both her parents didn’t have a lot of time for her and she’d find herself alone or forgotten. Now she makes a big show of herself and constantly butts into her friend’s lives so they don’t get the opportunity to forget her. She’s lost several friendships/relationships because of this in the past.

Jacqui constantly strives for perfection trying to win her dad’s approval. She idolizes him and the fact that he doesn’t approve of any of her interests or career choices hurts like hell.

Jacqui and her father fight constantly about Takeda and the two love birds had actually split up a few times in the early days of their relationship because of it. None of these break ups ever lasted long but they hurt like hell when they were separated. After it became clear Jax was never going to change his mind she just stopped bringing the topic of Takeda up altogether.

If there was a contest for who on Earth has the most abandonment issues Takeda would win by a landslide. It makes him very clingy in his relationships. After being dropped off at the Shirai Ryu by his father, a man he’s only known for all of three days, and then never hearing from him ever again, Takeda’s tiny little 8 year old mind internalized that as there being something wrong with him and that no one wanted him. He closed himself off and it took years for Hanzo to get him to open back up again. Now he clings to his relationship with the Grandmaster and for the longest time refused to acknowledge that he was anything other than Hanzo’s son since he was the only person that never walked away from him.

This is also why he tries to be liked by everyone in the room. He doesn’t want anyone to leave him. He’ll joke, he’ll smile, he’ll mediate, anything to keep the peace and keep people happy. He’ll bury his anger until it’s safe to use it in a fight, and there’s a lot of it. The little voice in his head that wants to burn everything to the ground, friends and family be damned. They’re all going to leave eventually anyway. All they’re ever going to do is hurt you. Why not hurt them back? Why not hurt them first? It’s only fair. It might even be fun. He ignores this voice as best he can.

Jin has massive trust issues. He can never take anything at face value because the last time he did he was kicked to the streets for something he couldn’t control and had no say in. You can’t trust people and can only rely on yourself. People slow you down, it’s better to go it alone. Safer.

His pride is another thing. He’s been doing things his way for this long, clearly something is working. He doesn’t need to be told what to do because he knows how to handle things himself. These people don’t know what they’re talking about and they sure as hell don’t know him. If anything they should be following his lead. He knows what he’s doing. Otherwise they should just get out of his way.

Frost has nightmares. Nightmares about her mother. Nightmares about the fighting pits. About cold nights sleeping on the streets. About beatings and screaming and hateful words. Every time she wakes up in tears. Every time she feels so weak and small and helpless. She hates it. She has to be stronger. She has to be better. She has to prove to herself, to the world, that she is stronger. Better. She’s not helpless. She’s not weak. She’s better. Better than all of them combined.

#all of these kids need so much therapy #just so much therapy #mortal kombat #mkx #mk10 #kombat kids #cassie cage #jacqui briggs #takeda takahashi #kung jin #frost mk

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moshieee · 2 months

Note

Hello it is I, random anon who does not know you and has never interacted with you before, what is your opinion of your mutuals?

Oh hi @bixell-pixell I'll include you even if we're not mutuals I think you're pretty chill all things considered

That's kinda it idk you that well

Anyways

You didn't specify so I'm going to list all my mutuals in the order of oldest to newest on my following page that I remember sorry of I missed anyone and for the @ s

*inhales*

@e-the-village-cryptid (I don't have a tag for e yet but it would probably just be E)

Not only the first person who I became friends with here but also the first one I ever started sharing my stories with, even if we don't talk too much I'm glad Every time we do and I see them on my dash, (they bring some of my favorite posts and when I do send posts sometimes I mix up and send them their own reblogs) I'm so glad we're still friends, thanks for letting me ramble about stuff for 6 hours hehe

@jaqofallgenders (no tag for jaq yet either)

my in person friend and the longest friendship I've ever had with someone, love you 🫶. I'll be more specific on Monday if our ADHD doesn't kick in and make us both forget

@strawberry-seal77 (seal-berry!!!)

Hi hi hi yellows my friend 👋 the person I consider to be the second ever friend I made on here, a lovely person as well and wait waaa and an amazing artist too 👀??? Love you silly goofball and the amazing posts and jokes you have we should chat more often I thinkith.

@rabid-mercenary16 (Rabid jumpscare)

Hey hey hey .... BWAMP! Hope you feel better soon

I probably have the most to say about Rabid but all try to make it a bit shorter. besides being the first artist to do art jokes and include me, with we also became mutuals and interacting around a time when my life started to get a lot better. Even if she's not the only factor in that I definitely associate her with stuff improving, and she did play a big factor in it (I already explained a lot on my Valentine's Day gift to her and the others). Also she's just an awesome person to spend time with and be goofy, amazing sense of humor and I just love being friends with such an awesome person and artist.

@dia-smthidk (Dia fren)

I'm assuming you don't want a bowl of soup

I also said a lot about them in my Valentine's Day gift, but we've become closer friends sense then even if we don't get to chat as much as I'd like to. I relate a lot and am surprised how we have so much in common. Amazing artist and person as well and I wish we could hang out more, idc if they think they're bringing down the mood when/if they bring stuff up about irl, and maybe I won't figure out their timezone but oh well, please take care of yourself gender sibling.

@bunnybunnsowo (BUN BUN BROTHER!!)

little brother 🫶🫶💝💞🫶✨👋❤️!!!

(I could have sworn we became mutuals before Dia?)

another person I shared a lot about with the Valentine's Day gift, I love you my little brother! Seriously one of the kindest people I've met and I'm so glad they have bug in his life. Bun deserves the world and they keep sending me opposum images!!! Gona die from cuteness and his kindness one of these days istg

@spookykittyzzz (greaah why don't I have a tag for you???)

A very kind person and artist I don't know too much sense we're not that close yet but love the few chats we have had so far. Hope we get to hang out more even if I'm awful at reaching out to others and saying hi.

@glitchyk (goop buddies)!!

Nooo the parallels

One of the first people who was interested to deep dive into my creations and ask about my stories and worlds They're probably competing with Rabid with how much I have to say about her/silly. Seriously it's incredible how much we have in common and now I get to share and collaborate our sonas stories together it's amazing. And as someone once said "you can yap for hours". I love how creative and clever they are, I just wish they would be kinder to herself. One day I'll make glichy see how awesome she is.

@unfunnyaceartist (Floridian disadvantage) I feel like I should change that

When I say I was shookith when ace asked to be friends I mean I was shookith first person so show up and ask that (the others kinda just happened). Amazing artist and don't believe her lies she is funny. I'm so heckn glad we're friends., love the goofy and silly idc if she's a bit of a simp they've helped me a lot start to understand slang and references I'm supposed to understand shhshsh (such is the curse of how I grew up) we need to make our mafia sonas interact at some point I can already imagine the chaos /silly

@neptunestoast (plushy slime)

Hugs hugs hugs*

Trying my best not to baby talk I swear. amazing person first person to show up and be like "hey I Wana do something for you and your friends". Love their humor and another gender sibling!!! Hugs for ever for as long as they're ok with it. I love their creativity as well and Noodle is so adorable. I just want to pick them up in a hug so much. Kibbity/silly

@ner5y (no tag woops ill figure something out)

What are you doing here??? How are we friends???

I was absolutely confused and startled when they followed me especially since it was during a spoons argument . Amazing artist like holy heck I wish I was allowed to curse on this blog. Their humor also took me by surprise when I got invited to the discord, and even if they doubt how well they're running it I think they're doing amazing. And I love our silly interactions like this one

@vexation-816 (chaotic ADHD buddy!!!)

Why did it take me so long to follow you istg

ADHD ADHD ADHD my buddy oh pal we both got that and it's driving us insane/silly. Love how creative he is and the ideas for his sona and character lore. Also one of the first people who shared a character they added to my nightlight au. This is getting twords the end and I'm tired of whiting so much and am on a timer oh no. But your amazing dude don't ever forget thag

@butlerbugbunny (anxiety bunny buddy)

This is why I didn't respond to the DM yet hshsh

New friend who I feel anxious talking to sometimes but a wonderful kind bunny who I'm also incredibly happy to be friends with. Love his art so much it's amazing (shoot shoot timer is going off) I'm glad he's their for bun and wish them the best I possibly can 🫶.

@lilithloves-you (lillith my be-loathed?) need to change that

Don't you dare bring up grilled cheese

Glitchys friendo who I'm also friends with now. We don't interact too much but I've sent her on missions to go hug glitchy (to help both of them feel better but shhh). I hope we become closer friends in the future.

#god this is a lot anyways im off to the store now #mutuals #E #seal-berry #Rabid jumpscare #bun bun brother #dia fren #goop buddies #Floridian disadvantage #plushy slime #anxiety bunny buddy #Lilith my be-loathed?

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x-0ophelia0-x · 8 months

Note

What if…. Ezra x fem reader, where at first during the “ghost crew” days Reader was best friends with Sabene, but also had a massive crush on her… then Ezra came along, she got a good look at this sassy Cutie with dreamy eyes~ 👀

And immediately clocked that he also probably had a crush on Sabene, reader went “NoPe! I am NOT loosing to this blue eyed babe!” 😤 (and completely missed that she’s also attracted to him..)

After awhile she realized she’s already fallen inlove with Ezra, and she’s known she no longer has a crush on her best friend Sabene for at least a year..in fact she and Sabene now have a more close Sisterly relationship… but it’s too late to say anything, because the day she finally realizes her true feelings is the day they lost Ezra.. and he left her a com recording confessing his feelings to reader.. but now she has no way to tell him that she feels the same.

She’s broken.. rarely speaks to anyone other then her family in the Ghost crew.. and even then it’s not much, and barely above a whisper, but she and Sabene never give up, practically obsessed with bringing Ezra back home.. Sabene to bring back her adopted brother, and reader to give Ezra a slap upside the head for having done such a dangerous stunt.. and then to tackle him in a kiss, till his whole face is as blue as his beautiful eyes.. just to make sure he knows how she feels..

And because they’re basically sisters, Sabene tells Ezra how reader has brutally rejected everyone who’s been interested in her since his absence.. no dick left un-kicked or face left un-punched if they tried to flirt with her past an obvious rejection..

You can’t imagine how much I love this. Like fr. I have school today and it’s nearly 3 AM-. It took some time though since I wanted to get the beginning as perfectly as I could, even rewatched the first episodes of Rebels for this one haha

anywayyy, I hope you like this! Turned out to be my longest ff I‘ve ever written-

a heartfelt confession.

pairings: Fem!Reader x Ezra Bridger

warnings: hurt to comfort

word count: 5,5K

summary: You had a massive crush on Sabine. One day, a guy named Ezra appeares in your life’s, joining the Ghost crew and also taking interest in Sabine. You wouldn’t loose to him though. There’s just something that you fail to notice, your newly developed feelings for him. When you finally realize them and much later even feel ready to confess to him, your paths get separated for what feels like forever. Chopper then shows you a hologram of him, confessing to you. You’re broken but you and Sabine eventually find him.

authors note: I already said some things above but I once again wanted to thank you for your request, had a lot of fun writing it!! Here’s another ff to our beloved blueberry’s collection!

enjoy <33

Time was something you just assumed that you’d always have. It made you numb to the things you already had, not appreciating them enough.

And it was too late for you when you finally realized it.

That time wasn’t always by your side.

„Where are we headed to today?“

You asked Hera as you and Sabine entered the room and sat down right behind her in the Ghost‘s cockpit.

She typed in some coordinates in the system, ready to jump into hyperspace while chopper started ranting about something he disliked again.

„We‘re going to Lothal. Visago sent us an message about some crates with weapons inside. We can’t let the empire have them.“

„Alright then“

Sabine said, fixing up her helmet while you watched her.

You couldn’t help but feel the warmth starting to rise inside you again.

Since the day you joined the ghost crew you started to develop a crush for her.

And the fact that you both shared the same cabin didn’t help.

„Ready to kick some bucketheads butts y/n?“

Sabine then asked, shifting her gaze to yours and you nodded, feeling excited about this mission. You didn‘t tell her about your crush on her, you didn’t have the guts and you didn’t even know if she’d be attracted to you anyway.

„Readier then ever“

Let’s say that your mission didn’t really go as you all planned. Some blue haired idiot decided to interfere and you, Zeb and Kanan spent your already stressed out afternoon by chasing him since he stole some crates.

Kanan however decided to help him and bring him on the Ghost when they where spotted by TIE-Pilots.

When you opened the crates, revealing the weapons inside them, his eyes widened in shock

„Do you know how much they’re worth on the black market??“

He asked with hints of excitement in his voice.

„Don’t get stupid ideas brat“

Zeb then said, shoving the boy to the side.

„Why is he here anyway?“

You could feel Zeb‘s disinterest in having the boy onboard. Not knowing the answer to his question too, you just shrugged.

„Guess that Kanan saw something in him“

Sabine spoke up.

„He managed to steal the crate after all“

She added, leaning herself against the wall while she looked at your direction. Smirking because some random brat managed to trick you.

„hey! I didn’t expect some random guy to interfere, alright?“

„Of corse you didn’t“

Sabine teased, enjoying the reaction she got from you.

„Who are you guys anyway?“

The boy then asked, his gaze shifting from yours to Sabines and to Zeb‘s.

You kind of got distracted by his eyes. The blue was so vibrant, almost as if it wasn‘t from this galaxy. Your gazes stayed locked for a moment until Zeb spoke up.

„We are the ghost crew“

He said, starting to make his way closer to the boy. When he was close enough, he tripped. The TIE fighters managed to land a hit on the Ghost, leading to Zeb falling down, landing on the boy.

„Get.. up..! I can’t breathe!“

He whisper yelled, struggling to breathe.

„Hey, I‘m not that heavy under normal conditions“

Zeb said, standing up while the boy took a deep breath.

„I didn’t mean your weight.. I meant your smell“

He said, holding his nose shut while he shoved the air away from him.

That seemed to pull a string in Zeb‘s temper.

„You don’t like the air quality here huh?“

He asked, looking down at the boy before him.

„Let me bring you to your own room!“

Zeb then added, grabbing the boys leg and shoving him into a small container like metallic box.

„No.. no no!“

He was cut short when Zeb closed the door.

„Stupid brat“

Sabine and you then started laughing. The fact that Zeb, a grown Lasat lost his temper to some boy‘s comment on his smell was hilarious to you.

„He really didn’t twice about telling you this“

Sabine said between her laughs.

„Straight to your face“

You added, needing to catch your breath since this was the funnies thing you ever saw after Chopper and Zeb‘s rivalry.

„Let’s go, the fight is not over yet“

Sabine then said, gesturing you to follow her and you did.

Unbeknownst to you, the boy you all just met managed to escape from his ‚room‘ by opening the vent and using the small room to enter another part of the ship.

He soon noticed that it was part of the defense system when he saw the big blasters. And this was the moment when he realized that he wasn’t on Lothal anymore.

„I‘m in.. space…“

He said in awe, looking up to the stars, a sight he didn’t expect to see in his life.

He was excited but it didn’t last long when he noticed the TIE Fighters flying towards them, shooting at them.

„and I‘m going to die!“

He kind of yelled, his excitement turning into fear.

It didn’t last long though, shortly after he heard another round of blaster followed by the sight of one TIE Fighter getting destroyed.

„wow..“

He didn’t know them for long, in fact, he just met them after he stole from them, but they seemed to be strong. He was deep in his thoughts, not noticing you and Sabine entering the small room and dragging him away from the seat.

Sabine then took off her helmet, staring down at him before she sat down, shooting at the remaining TIE fighters. The boy went speechless after seeing her, looking at her with wide eyes. You noticed that, not blaming him since you felt the same way. But he of corse couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

„My name is Ezra, and what is yours..?“

He asked or better, tried to flirt.

You still stood behind him, trying your best not to laugh.

But you failed. Seconds later Zeb entered the small room too, grabbing Ezra by his shoulders and turning him to his direction, looking straight into his eyes.

„I‘m Zeb, you loath rat!“

Sabine and you once again started to laugh your asses off, the change in Ezra’s face was way too funny. He went from ‚hey babe, wanna watch the stars together‘ to ‚no! please don’t kill me‘ very fast.

But something with him worried you. He seemed to take a interest in Sabine too and you were sure that you wouldn’t loose to this blue eyed idiot.

There was another thing though.. his eyes… they somehow always seemed to find a way to impress you. You didn’t think too much into that at first, but you started to notice a new feeling building up inside you whenever he was close.

Some time passed since Ezra joined your crew.

It was a struggle at first but you all soon grew close together. Ezra was sharing a cabin with Zeb, something you still found hilarious considering their first conversation being about Zeb’s smell.

Ezra and you even became very close friends. The first thing you do after every mission now being to meet up at the small room where he firstly ever tried to flirt with Sabine, talking about how the mission went for each one.

„I even managed to steal a helmet! This guy‘s aim was so embarrassing“

He said, looking proudly at his ‚trophy‘ , his voice laced with an excitement you now couldn’t imagine to live without.

But you couldn’t help but feel worried for him. Todays mission left scars behind, physical and emotional.

„There was also this Inquisitor.. I really thought that I‘d die the moment his blade flew past my face“

His tone now was more serious compared to his excitement from before.

„Kanan thought that I died..“

He looked down, recalling todays events. You noticed his struggle and you wanted to help him, but you didn’t really know how.

„Hey.. Ezra look at me“

You said, lifting your hand to Cup his cheek with the scars. Gently turning his head to you again, locking gazes with him.

„It’s not your fault.. I‘m just happy that you‘re well. Safe and sound and most importantly, right here with us“

Something in his eyes then changed while hearing your words. They seemed to relax, be more at ease then the stressed ones from before.

He leaned into your touch, letting your words sink in.

„Thank you..“

He then said, looking up to you again. You couldn’t help but notice the same feeling you felt for some time now. Whenever he was around you or you both shared your moments, talking about the missions, a strange feeling managed to make it‘s way up to you.

„You don’t have to thank me you idiot“

You then chuckled, taking your hand away from his face and then opening your arms.

„Does lil Ezra need a hug?“

A teasing tone made its way to your question, accompanied by a smirk.

„You’re just one week older“

He then said, crossing his arms.

„I know, you’re still younger then me though“

You said, chuckling again as you took a step closer.

„Now, do you want that hug or should I just give it to Zeb“

Ezra didn’t wait any longer and opened up his arms, letting you to take him into your embrace.

„You know.. it’s dangerous to hug that Lasat in your fragile age. His smell would’ve permanently destroy your nose“

It was his turn now to tease you.

„Hey! I‘m not that much older!“

You faked an hurt undertone, failing to hold your laugh back.

„You decided to call me lil Ezra, prepare to live with the consequences“

He said, shrugging while he also failed to hold his laugh back.

Moments like these made you two grow closer and soon enough you didn’t even care anymore about him liking Sabine.

You even started to notice that your crush on her wasn’t as intense as it was before you met Ezra.

And if you weren’t completely delusional right now, you noticed that Ezra stopped his attempts of flirting with her.

You didn‘t understand it back then. How could you? Everything was so simple and you basically had everything you needed. But things never stay the way they are, this was the most important thing you learned throughout your life.

And there was something you failed to notice, the true meaning behind that mysterious new feeling you always had around him.

Some years passed by by now.

You no longer had a crush on Sabine, that was something you knew for over a year now. Instead you realized the fact that you not only had a crush on Ezra, no, but you also fell in love with your blue eyed idiot.

Your meetings with him after every mission became something like a routine, something you both couldn’t live without.

Even if you didn’t have missions on some days, you always managed to find some free time in order to spend it together. Exchanging stories, eating your rations together, sharing embarrassing moments of your lives and just spend time together.

His eyes became something you wanted to fight for. Something you knew that you needed. They resembled the peace you all fought for and they also made your heart skip a beat a few times whenever they looked at you.

And the same goes for him. His crush on Sabine back then didn’t last long.

He infact had a crush on you. From the moment you both continued to lock your gazes, whenever you two meet up to talk about your day, he realized that he developed feelings for you.

And when you offered him your comfort after his encounter with the Grand Inquisitor, he was sure of what he felt towards you.

His only problem was that he didn’t know how to confess his feelings to you.

Ezra was scared that you didn’t like him back and that your friendship would be ruined by his confession. So he decided to stay silent, to continue talking to you, hiding his emotions while he deeply wished to find the courage he needed.

Years later, just moments after Kanan died, he once again found himself in your embrace. Crying into your shoulder while he was at his lowest he ever found himself in since the Ghost crew took him in.

You held him close, trying to give him some comfort while you struggled with it yourself.

And as if this wasn’t enough for him, there was also something, a feeling of unease, telling him that something bad would happen.

Visions of him loosing everyone he cared for. Visions of him loosing you.

So he did what he thought was the best. He called for chopper, brought him to his cabin while everyone was distracted by their tasks, recording himself, reassuring the crew that he was alright, just in case that something bad would really happen.

And it did.

You all were on Lothal. Planning to save the city from the empires clutches. It even worked out pretty well, but hey, everyone’s luck eventually runs out right?

Ezra was now on the Chimaera, Thrawns flagship. Purrgils entered Lothals atmosphere, flying towards the Chimaera, holding the ship tight with their tentacles.

Everything went by so fast. The last thing you remembered being Ezra standing right next to you, reassuring you that he’d be safe.

„I have to tell you something.. when this is over“

„Me too..“

„Ezra.. please… please stay safe“

You couldn’t help but fail to hold back your tear any longer.

He noticed that, placing his hand to your cheek, swiping away the single tear that managed to escape.

„I will.. I promise“

He said, knowing that he wouldn’t see you again.

His gaze being concentrated on you. Taking in every feature of your face, your body, your scent and especially your eyes.

You did the same, something deep within you warning you that you’d regret it if you didn’t take in every detail of him.

„Come back“

„I can’t promise that..“

„Then try it.. at least“

„I can’t promise that either..“

„.. I know“

When you two were ready, you helped Sabine distracting Hera and the others while Ezra made his way up to the vent.

„One last time“

Was everything you heard from him before he jumped.

And now?

„Ezra get away from there!“

You heard Hera yell at her comm link. Stressed since you all knew what the blue lights on the purrgils meant.

„I can’t.. I have to see this through“

Ezra told her, sounding scared himself.

„Ezra! I‘m begging you! Please!“

You cried out, not wanting to loose him. Not after everything you all went through. Not after you were finally ready to confess your feelings to him.

The purrgils then started to take off. Which made you panic even more.

„… remember, the force will be with you.. always“

And he was gone, just like that.

„No!!!“

You screamed from the top of your lungs, falling down to your knees while your tears started to roam down your face freely.

Sabine rushed to you side, pulling you close to her as you continued to cry.

„Chopper! I want you to calculate the Chimaeras course! We need to find him!“

Hera yelled, hoping that they’d find him in time, but Chopper didn’t really know how to help.

„What do you mean..“

She asked him after he gave her a series of beeps, sounding very concerned.

„What do you mean by telling me that it’s impossible..?“

She asked again, this time in disbelief.

He then tried to explain that the purrgils course wasn’t something he could calculate since they didn’t travel with their systems. The space whales had their own, and this was the reason why Chopper and nobody else would ever be able to trace the Chimaeras course down.

You all then met at the ghosts crews cockpit. Hera, Sabine, Zeb and you, after Chopper told you that he had to show you something.

It was a hologram of Ezra. Telling you that he knew that this day would come.

How he felt that unease taking the upper hand from him, how he knew that he had to stop Thrawn, even if it meant to risk his own life too.

Ezra told his goodbyes, he left a message for everyone, except for you.

„wait.. it’s over..? already?“

You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sabine was confused too. He didn’t mention you in this hologram, why?

Chopper then again beeped something, this time to you. He used his small metallic ‚hands‘ to take yours and slowly walk with you towards your cabin, where you would be alone.

„Chopper.. what do you want to tell me?“

You asked, defeated and still trying to process everything that happened today.

Instead of beeping again he just put on another hologram, it was Ezra.

„Hey y/n..“

He said, his voice causing you to again form tears at your eyes.

„if you see this that’d mean that I really went on with that silly plan..“

He continued, holding his hand to his neck, seeming nervous about something.

„I hope that it worked.. that you’re safe from Thrawns threat and that I somehow survived what I am planning to do“

His gaze now shifted to you, his blue eyes still had the same effect on you that they always had.

„There’s another recording, one that is meant for everyone to see and I‘m sorry that I didn’t mention you there.. I just thought that you deserved your own recording.. and I didn’t want to put it on the same one I made for the others.. you know?“

Ezra now stopped talking, looking around, not knowing how to confess to you, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to confess to you in person. He then took a deep sigh.

„I fell in love with you y/n“

He said, causing your heart to skip a beat.

„I realized it for some time now.. you know… it started with a crush just before that thing with the Grand Inquisitor happened“

He trailed off, chuckling at his thoughts.

„Maker it’s already been this long..“

„However… I was scared of how you’d react.. didn’t really want to destroy our friendship.. loosing my best friend, risking you thinking that I was a creep or something. So I decided to stay silent.. not my best decision though“

You saw how he swiped away a tear that rolled down his face.

„I’ll regret it.. not confessing to you in person because you deserve it.

You showed me the light when I wasn’t able to see it, helped me through my lowest moments and I may be delusional.. but I think.. that you… maybe… feel the same?“

„You think?“

Was all you could say before you broke down, not wanting to hold your tears back any longer.

„I really want to confess to you in person.. it’s kinda strange after all.. I‘m literally telling Chopper the words ‚I love you‘ right now… geeez I‘d really give everything to see your reaction.. to know if you actually liked me back“

„I don’t like you.. you idiot“

You managed to say in between your sobs.

„I love you“

Your voice shivered and you couldn’t help but cry even more.

„I want you to know that I will always think of you.. I‘ll make sure to never forget the warm sound of your voice.. your eyes and and the way how you look in general.

I don’t know if we’ll ever see each other again.. I don’t even know if I’ll survive this plan.. but if I do… if you have any reason to believe that I‘m still alive.. please come and find me“

You then heard your muffled voice trough the hologram, calling out for him.

„Seems like you already found me“

He chuckled, walking closer to chopper, ready to end the recording.

„I love you y/n. I always have and I always will.. may the force be with you..“

He looked down, starting to laugh at what he was about to say.

„lil Ezra out“

The recording now stopped. Showing you the option to replay it.

Chopper then beeped something again, it sounded like as if he was asking you if you were alright. You just sat there, crying, letting Ezra’s words sink in.

He loved you for all this time and you didn’t notice. You still were too scared to confess and now you may never see him again.

You’ll never have the chance of letting him know that you returned his feelings. That you loved him too. It was too late.

He‘ll never know that he was loved.

„I love you too Ezra..“

You managed to whisper, each wort hurting like hell.

Realizing that you also started to develop your feelings for him around the same time as he did. You needed years to realize what that feeling was, was it was trying to tell you.

„I fucking love you you idiot!“

You cried even harder. Chopper rushed to your side to give you as much comfort as he could. And you wrapped your arms around him. Crying against bis cold metal. Holding onto him as if he was the last thing that kept your sanity together.

„I‘ll find you.. even if it’s the last thing that I’ll do“

Ten years passed and there was still no news about Ezra’s whereabouts or his well being. The Senators of the new republic already gave up their hopes of finding Ezra alive. Not wanting to waste more resources on this topic.

The lack of support only deepened the worry that took control over you.

You weren’t the same person anymore.

Nobody heard the sound of your laugh since Ezra disappeared.

You didn’t talk anymore, not as much as you did and when you did, it’s sound was barely above a whisper.

You were broken, broken beyond repair.

Your best friend.. your lover, may be in danger or dead by now, and all you could do was to hide yourself in your cabin, hoping that he’d somehow return to you again.

You were still living in the ghost. The ghost crew was your only family, you had nowhere else to go. Everyone managed to somehow move on.

Zeb trained some newcomers, Hera got the highest rank and Sabine was Ahsokas Padawan, well part time at least.

They stopped training and Sabine continued to search for Ezra, but without any luck.

They were the only persons you ever talked to after everything that happened.

Sabine grew to be basically your sister, listening to you whenever you needed someone to talk to. Helping you through your nightmares, holding you close when his loving vibrant blue eyes hunted you in your nightmares.

Dreaming of losing him everyday.

You were a shell of your once so happy spirit.

You showed her the recording where he confessed to you, told her that you felt the same. Cried whenever you told her that you loved him. How much you missed him every passing day.

He just entered your life a decade ago. Someone who managed to trick you, someone who managed to grow important to you.

Someone who managed to steal your heart.

That very someone who was scared of confessing to you, but still did because he knew that he wouldn’t come back.

That very someone who disappeared long ago, leaving your heart shattered and broken.

„It hurts..!“

You whispered, losing control of your tears once again.

„I know… I know…“

Sabine Said, trying to sound as soft as possible.

„We’ll find him… I promise… you’ll see him again“

This is how most of your nights looked like, after waking up from another nightmare.

Your life had become one.

You couldn’t even go outside.

There was always some creep trying his luck on you.

„Hey little one.. you’re adorable..“

One of the many man said, stepping closer to you.

„Stay away“

You said, your voice once again just as loud as a whisper.

„Aw come on.. you seem to be pretty alone.. let me change this okay?“

He asked, placing his hand on your cheek.

The very one Ezra once held.

This was too much for you.

You raised your leg and kicked him straight into his dick, with all the force you could use in that moment.

The man backed down, holding on onto his member, screaming out in pain.

„You bitch!“

He continued, his scream now catching Sabines attention.

„Fuck off“

Was all you said before you left for the Ghost. Sabine was just fast enough to catch sight of the guy laying on the ground, holding his ‚best part‘ as tightly as he could do somehow lessen the pain.

„Again?“

She asked you, a concerned tone in her voice.

„Yeah..“

You replied.

It was just another idiot who tried out his luck with you.

He wasn’t the first and he for sure wasn’t the last.

But it didn’t matter to you when Ahsoka showed up on Lothal.

She had found a map that could lead you to Ezra’s location.

The only problem was that she wasn’t able to open it, therefore she needed Sabines and your help.

And for the first time in like forever they saw you to slightly smile again.

Sabine then even managed to activate the map.

A lot happened after that.

You lost the map but managed to find it, only to have to make a very hard decision.

Driven by your willpower to find your lover, your Ezra, you found yourself in a rather questionable agreement with Baylan Skoll.

Sabine too. Everything she wanted was to find her ‚adopted‘ brother and bring him back. To reunite him with his family. She counted on her and she knew that this was their only opportunity.

You both travelled as prisoners onboard of the „Eye of Sion“

Reached another galaxy and the planet where Ezra was stranded.

The last few hours where crazy to say the least, but everything that mattered was what was going to happen now.

Your howlers found some crab creatures who had Sabines firebird on them.

„Do you know Ezra Bridger?“

You asked. Noticing that you didn’t call him by his full name for years now.

The creatures seemed to recognize his name and happily nodded.

Gesturing for you two to follow them.

They brought you to their village. It seemed lovely and peaceful.

So this is where Ezra was living for the past decade.

Just when you and Sabine were left alone by the crab creature, your both heard someone chuckle from behind you.

„I knew that I could count on you two“

He said and you immediately recognized who it was.

Sabine and you both turned around, looking at him standing there, leaning himself against the wall of one of the small houses.

He had grown into a man. His hair was longer now, his curls a stark contrast to the buzz cut he once had.

He had grown a beard, grown some inches taller and he had a completely new outfit.

But his eyes stayed the same.

The vibrant blue hue they had, the hope and love they held were still there.

His smile also didn’t change, it was the same heartwarming smile that made her fall in love with him in the first place, the same smile that kept her going through those unimaginable ten years.

„Ezra..!“

You finally said, losing your fight against the tears as they streamed down freely, and the same went for him.

„y/n..“

You looked at Sabine who was nodding to you that you should be the first to go to him, and so you did.

You stepped closer to him, swiping away your tears as you took his new appearance in.

When you stood in front of him you didn’t exactly know what to do.

This was the moment you longed for for so many years now, so you decided to listen to your heart.

You raised your hand and slapped him, not too strong to actually hurt him but strong enough to be able to call it a slap.

He was surprised, not knowing how to act after this.

„This is because you had me worried sick after this stunt of yours“

Ezra’s eyes widened.

„y/n I.. I‘m so-„

You then stopped him by pulling his face closer to yours with your other hand. Placing it on his cheek while you moved your other one around his torso.

Your gazes locked for once again, before you closed your eyes, connecting your lips with his, sharing your first kiss with him.

He was dumbfounded by your sudden action at first but he didn’t want to waste any second, deepening the kiss when he also placed his hand on your cheek while he rested his other to your lower back.

You both stood there like this, deepening your kiss until you both had to pull apart to catch your breath.

Your heart was beating stronger then ever, if it wasn’t for the ever growing excitement you felt, you’d believe that it was going to explode at any moment now.

„wow..“

Was all that Ezra could say, not believing that he just shared his first kiss with the person he loved.

„I love you too Ezra“

You then decided to break the silence, still holding him close.

You now felt at peace after those words left your mouth.

After confessing your feelings to him, after all those years.

„You saw the recording?“

He chuckled, looking down to you.

„Yeah I did..“

„So Chopper really kept it.. I thought he deleted it.. that droid made me record it way too many times“

Ezra said, laughing a little bit after remembering his old struggles with the said droid.

„I missed you.. so much“

He then pulled you into a tight hug.

„I missed you too… and I love you… so so much..“

You both were interrupted by Sabine though.

„If you continue your lovely reunion I might even cry, damnit!“

She said, causing you two to laugh at her statement.

„Come here“

Ezra then said, opening his arms to welcome her to your embrace, and she came.

„I‘m so happy that you found me..“

He said.. looking at the both of you.

„I can’t wait to come home“

Some hours passed and you decided to walk around the village, trying to get to know the villagers a little bit better, since they were living with Ezra for so many years now.

Ezra and Sabine sat in front of his house like thing.

„So…“

Ezra began, not knowing of how to ask this.

„Did y/n… move on?“

Sabine was taken aback by his question and Ezra didn’t fail to notice this.

„I know that we didn’t confess before but.. did she fall in love with someone else while I was here…?“

His tone was sincere and it broke Sabine, knowing that it’s been a question he asked himself for a very long time here. Not knowing anything about your life after he left.

She then chuckled, recalling the many guys attempts of flirting with you and how you coldbloodedly rejected them.

„No she didn’t“

She began. You and Sabine grew to something like sisters. She knew everything that happened to you and you knew everything that happened to her. Sabine was more then excited to tell him about your actions.

„There were a lot of guys hitting at her you know.. trying to flirt with her, kiss her, some even tried to get under her panties“

Ezra’s gaze shifted into an concerned one, afraid about what she was going to say now.

„y/n rejected them all. She left no dick unkicked and no face unpunched. They at some point stopped to hit at her because there was a rumor about her breaking their jaws, those assholes got scared and never dared to approach her again!“

He couldn’t believe his ears, you really stayed loyal to him even if you both never got the chance to confess to each other back then.

A smile found it‘s way to his face, feeling kinda proud of you.

„Did she really break their jaws?“

„She didn’t just break their jaws Ezra..“

Sabines gaze also turned into a proud one.

„Some guys who took it too far won’t be able to ever have kids now“

#ezra bridger x reader #ezra bridger #star wars rebels #star wars #ahsoka series

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miamochi-writes · 1 year

Note

Heya, well first thing’s first I wanted to say how much I love daycare snacks story it’s absolutely amazing and probably one of my favorite au’s. However I wanted to ask and request something if it’s okey. And I thought about Eriks Vash, fluff where fem reader is playing,brushing and braiding his long hair, and when they hug, to feel his stubble against her cheek or other places and If we could apply some bit of spice?👉🏻👈🏻👀 Also if Erics Vash could be really affectionate as well

Feel free to decline though, if not for your liking.

Thank you for reading my Daycare Snacks series! It means a lot! (I will upload the next chapter sometime next week. Work has been a lot lately). Also my first Eriks Vash! This will mainly apply to Trigun Maximum Eriks. Although this can also apply to Trigun Stampede Eriks so I hope this is to your liking! As for spice...that can be arranged~

Everytime We Touch

It was another windy day in the this small town you called home. You worked at the saloon so you knew all the locals that came by for a drink or a place to beat the heat. Sadly, there weren't too many people that occupied the place. Anytime you saw a fresh face come inside, they never stayed for long. Mainly because of the bounty hunters and bandits that showed up. So imagine your surprise when Lina introduced you to Eriks one day.

Eriks was one of the tallest guys you've ever met. He dressed causally with a simple beige button up. He had beautiful long blonde hair that hid those glistening blue eyes of his. When Lina told you that he would be staying at her place, a part of you was happy. Finally, someone new to talk to! Except, you didn't talk to him for weeks. Apparently, Eriks was put to work running errands for the most part. Thus, you only caught glimpses of him whenever you worked the front counter. A part of you wondered what he was like. What was his story? Why stay in this town? Who were his friends? What did he like? Questions like those would constantly plague your mind whenever you had down time at work.

One night, a group of bounty hunters and rowdy men were having a party. Your hands were practically full from taking care of everyone's orders. Even your boss was trying to make sure no one waited too long on a drink. Once the party ended, you were left with a mess to clean up. As you were stacking the plates up, you tried your best to balance them before heading towards the kitchen. The sound of footsteps hitting the wooden floor were heard near the entrance.

"Hey there. If you can't tell from the mess here, we're closed," you called out. As you turned around, you caught a glimpse of a peculiar tall blonde standing inside.

"Hey Eriks, what brings you here?" you asked.

"I was heading home after finishing some errands. Then I saw you by yourself while I was passing by," he explained.

"Oh don't mind me. I'm just cleaning up here. We had a big party tonight. I gotta get this mess cleaned up before tomorrow morning," you replied as you lifted the stack of plates up. Halfway through, you heard the clanging and clinging of tableware from behind you. You turned around to see Eriks was cleaning up a table.

"Eriks, you don't have to worry about me. Go home and rest," you insisted.

"Let me help you. It'll be faster to clean up," Eriks offered as he carried the dirty silverware to the kitchen. As he put the items in the sink, you sighed at the man before you. Well, you were curious about him for the longest time and now he's here helping you clean up late at night. Both of you managed to clean the saloon in an hour. The dishes were spotless, tables were organized, and the chairs were set up.

"Wow! We actually finished before midnight!"

"I told you it would be faster if we cleaned up together," he replied.

Well I appreciate you stopping by and offering a helping hand. Since you went out of your way for me, I got something for you," you added. You brought out a platter of sandwiches that you made earlier for the party.

"For me? Are you sure Y/n?" he asked eyeing at the food.

"Of course! Consider it as my way of saying thanks," you explained as you gestured him to the front of the bar.

"Thanks, I shouldn't though," Eriks reasoned. Before anyone could get another word in, Eriks' stomach growled loud enough for you to hear. Eriks was taken aback as his body betrayed him.

"Eriks, sit down and eat before you pass out," you commanded as you gestured him to sit down next to you. He did what he was told as he sat down and started eating. You could tell he enjoyed the food as he smiled with every bite. Then you noticed Eriks would push away strands of his hair before taking another bite.

"Hold on a sec," you told him as you went into the kitchen and grabbed your bag. Eriks eyed at you as you held a hair tie and brush in your hands.

"Turn to your right for me," you spoke.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Keeping your hair out of your face," you answered. You gently grabbed part of his hair to start brushing through. Slowly and gently, you combed out any tangles from his hair that might have been ravaged by the desert winds. Surprisingly, his hair was silky soft as your fingers ran through his locks. Once you brushed all of his hair, you started tying his golden hair into a smooth ponytail.

"And done! What do you think?" you asked as you pulled up a mirror near by. Eriks looked in awe at his new look as you smiled at your work. You left most of the shorter parts of his hair alone to perfectly frame his face, while the rest was tied up to where it wouldn't bother him. Finally, you got a better look of Eriks' face and his pretty blue eyes.

"Wow! I look great! Thanks Y/n! I'll give you your hair tie back when I'm done eating!" he thanked you while feeling his new hairstyle.

"Nah you can keep it. I got tons of those back at my place. Besides, you need it more than I do," you insisted. It was then Eriks flashed you a cheeky smile to show you how much he appreciated the kind gesture. As he continued eating, you couldn't help but smile at the man before you. You were slowly finding out more about the kind of person Eriks was. From that night forward, Eriks would continue to see you.

The next morning, you woke up to the hot sun. You decided to tie your hair up to help cool you off. As you walked to the saloon, you saw someone waiting at the front entrance. Stepping closer, you recognized the long blonde hair swaying with the wind.

"Y/n! Glad I could catch you this morning!" Eriks waved.

"Hey Eriks! Nice seeing you too! Did you need something?" you asked. You already knew he was always busy with errands first thing in the morning. So seeing him at the saloon was a bit out of the blue. Not that you were complaining.

"Uh, if it's not too much to ask...could you tie my hair again? I tried to do it this morning but I can't seem to get it right. Plus, it would help if my hair wasn't in the way while I work," he asked. You could tell he was fidgeting when asking you this. He was rubbing the back of his neck and you found it cute that he waited for you.

"Oh not at all! Come on in and I can do your hair real quick," you motioned him inside as you unlocked the saloon. Eriks eyes gleamed as he followed you with excitement. You offered him a seat as you grabbed your brush and mirror. You combed through his lustrous hair piece by piece. As you brushed his hair, you noticed his ears were pink. You figured the heat was getting to him and would bring him a cold drink. Gently, you tied his hair into a ponytail like last night.

"And done! Let me know if it's too tight on you. I want to make sure the ponytail could hold all day while you're comfortable," you said as you handed him a mirror. You walked away briefly to grab some water as Eriks looked at himself in the mirror.

"No this is perfect! It feels great right now. My ponytail looked nothing like yours," he complimented you as you smiled at his answer.

"I'm glad you like it! Sometimes I tie my hair a little too tight since my shifts can get hectic," you explained. Then you handed him a glass of water.

"For me?" he asked as you nodded.

"Yeah, I noticed you were a bit red earlier. A little something to help cool you off," you replied as you put away your brush and mirror.

"Oh, I appreciate it Y/n. I owe you big time for today! I'll finish this before I take off," Eriks thanked you.

"Like I said, no big deal. Just know you're more than welcome to stop by the saloon anytime," you told him. Before he took a drink, you noticed his face was slightly red. Hopefully he can stay inside and avoid the brutal desert heat outside. Once he was done drinking, you took the empty glass as Eriks got up.

"Thanks again for today Y/n! I'll see you later!" Eriks waved as you waved back. Sure enough, he was true to his word.

~*~

For weeks, Eriks would wait for you by the Saloon each morning. He always asked that you do his hair. He insisted that you did a much better job compared to him and Lina. You found it hard to believe, especially since you showed Eriks how to tie his hair one day. Nonetheless, you could never say no to him. You loved his company and it was a great excuse to play with his beautiful hair. Any time you finished styling his hair, Eriks never failed to compliment your work. Hearing those compliments made your day.

Plus, he would pass by the saloon when he was doing errands. Some days he would wave at you while you were on the clock. Other times, you would catch glimpses of him talking to the locals. Whether it was the elderly or adults he always volunteered to help anyone out. When he was with children, he would entertain them to where they cheered with joy. It was these moments that you learned Eriks was a kind soul. He brought joy to those around him, and you enjoyed his company.

One night, Eriks visited you at the Saloon before closing time. Things were slow, so you were lounging next to him as he was eating. You were braiding your hair as you noticed you had a couple of stray hairs that bothered you. Once you were done, you noticed Eriks stopped eating and was staring at you. You gave him a questioning look as he lightly touched your braid.

"Can you do this to my hair too?" he asked. You were taken aback by his question. You looked at his hand holding a piece of your hair and then at him.

"Sure, can I ask why?" you asked.

"I think it's really pretty! Plus I want to match with you," he answered casually. That answer did a number on you. Your heart was pounding and a blush crept up to your cheeks. Eriks sure knew how to surprise you as you tried to compose yourself. Once you steadied your breathing, you nodded as you took out your brush and a smaller hair tie. The blonde's face was filled with pure joy as you motioned him to get closer. You grabbed small sections of his hair and started braiding away. Despite how much you were concentrating on braiding his hair, you could feel his eyes boring into yours. After a few minutes, you securely tied his braid with the hair tie on you. You handed him a mirror to see what he thought.

"Y/n, I don't know what to say," he started. Panic set in as he said those words. Did you mess up? You cursed at how shaky your hands were. Before you could say anything, he continued speaking.

"I love how this looks on me! Thank you so much Y/n! You're the best!" he cheered and pulled you into a hug. You never knew how built Eriks was until now. You could feel his biceps squeezing you as you felt his chest. Furthermore, you felt his stubble rub against your cheek. Eriks was warm to the touch as you slowly reciprocated the hug. As he let go of you, the warmth left you. Yet, the smile he gave you could give the sun a run for it's money. His smile was comforting and contagious as you smiled back at him. Afterwards, he offered to help clean up and walk you home.

~*~

Another week passed by where you practically saw Eriks every day. You always did his hair, wave at him from afar, eat at the salon, and walk you home. Not a day wen by where he wasn't on your mind. Even your boss and Lina commented about how much time you and Eriks spent together to where you both could pass as something more. You waved off their comments, as you didn't think he saw you that way. But a small part of you wished he thought the same of you.

One afternoon, you were running errands for your boss. The saloon was running low on a couple of items. On your way back, you stumbled upon a bounty hunter. You tried to avoid him, but the clanking from the beer and wine bottles gave you away.

"Hey what's a cutie like you doing out here?" the guy asked.

"Sorry, I'm running errands and I really need to head back," you answered trying to get past him.

"What's the rush? It wouldn't hurt to spend time with the toughest hunter in town," he insisted.

"I appreciate the offer, but if I don't hurry back my boss will yell at me," you explained trying to walk back.

"Hey, where do you think you're going sweetheart," he questioned. The man roughly grabbed your wrist. The man's grip was enough to send a sharp shooting pain. You could practically feel his nails digging into your skin as you tried to break free.

"Stop! You're hurting me!" you cried out.

"Maybe if you just followed what I said I wouldn't have hurt ya," he sneered as he squeezed your wrist.

"HEY LET HER GO!" someone yelled. As the man turned around, a rock hit his head. He briefly let you go, but you felt someone else pull you away.

"RUN AWAY! We'll hold him off for ya!" someone else called out. You looked to see it was Lina shouting as a few other kids were throwing rocks at the man.

"Come on! This way!" a familiar voice pleaded. You turned to the sound of the voice to see Eriks was pulling you along. You ran with him as he led you away from the bounty hunter. As you ran, you could hear yelling not too far away from you. Eventually, Eriks led you to a small building inside. He then pulled you inside a dark storage room that hardly had any space to move in. You felt Eriks pull you close as he held you protectively with one hand on your back and another on your shoulder.

"Don't make a sound until I say so," he whispered in your ear as you felt his breath tickle your neck. His stubble would rub on your cheek and close to your ear. Your face was right on his chest along with your hands. You tried to put distance, but failed miserably with the lack of space there was. Thankfully it was dark and he couldn't see how beet red your face was right now. You then heard heavy footsteps making their stride outside. Eriks held you closer as you stood frozen. Both of you strained your ears to hear what was happening outside.

"I know you ran through here somewhere!" a voice shouted. You heart raced as the footsteps grew closer. Suddenly, you heard something fall from a distance. The man yelled and then ran away as his footsteps sounded distant. One second became five seconds. Then ten seconds, until finally Eriks whispered to you.

"I think the coast is clear." He slowly opened the door and checked that no one was in the vicinity. He let out a deep breathe and led you out from the room. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears from the adrenaline and the situation you were just in. You were lost in your thoughts until Eriks put his hands on your shoulders.

"Are you okay Y/n? Did he hurt you?" he asked with worry. You looked at your wrist the bounty hunter grabbed you previously and saw how red it was. When Eriks followed your gaze, his eyes widened. He frantically looked for something to help your sore wrist. He found an ice pack and gently placed it on your wrist. The chilling feel helped reduced the pain as you let out a sigh of relief.

"I should have done something earlier. If I finished my job earlier, I could have prevented this," Eriks spoke. You could hear the regret in his voice as you furrowed your eyebrows.

"Eriks, you helped a whole lot! If you didn't intervene, he probably would have done something worse besides hurting my wrist. I can't thank you enough for helping me today and getting that bounty hunter away from me. Besides, I would rather take a sore wrist any day than getting taken by some guy like him." you emphasized as you tried to get him to look at you. You gave a reassuring smile as Eriks looked at your face with his blue eyes. You then felt his hand caress your cheek and brush his thumb slightly. He then pulled you to a hug as he held you delicately. Almost as if he was afraid you would break.

"Thanks, I'm just happy you're safe," he answered back as you smiled.

"If you really want to keep me safe, help me deal and explain this to my boss later. He's probably wondering why I'm taking too long," you added. That was enough to get Eriks to let out a hearty chuckle. You loved the sound of his laugh as he gave you a thumbs up.

"Leave it to me Y/n! You got nothing to fear when I talk to him. Whenever you're ready, I'll walk you back and make sure no one lays a finger on you," he grinned.

A/n: Hi! Thanks for reading this far! I hope you like it. I know I left this kinda out in the open, but if you want more spice I'd be happy to write a part 2 if there's enough demand :) I didn't want to write a whole lot past 3k words and make this a long read :')

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spenceralexdutton · 2 months

Text

Title: King of Hearts

Pairing: Spencer Dutton x Alexandra [Dutton]

Rating: M (this might change)

Setting: AU

Disclaimer: I do not own the Yellowstone characters!

The summary and plot are TBD, because this just came to me and I had to get it out of my head. I think you’ll get a good feel for what’s going on when you read but IF you need to be baited, which who doesn’t haha, Spencer is a bull rider (amongst other talents) and Alexandra is… well THAT I’m going to leave up to your imaginations for now! Likes, comments and reblogs not required but do help inspiration 💕I can already see them rolling around in the bed of his stock trailer living quarters but we have to get their first 👀

I do not currently have an alpha or beta reader so any typos are my own and I’ll do my best to catch them 🫡

Chapter 1

The paint horse stomped restlessly next to the cowboy. She knew her job and it was almost time. Her cowboy, on the other hand, was still brutishly nursing his shoulder from the fall he’d just taken off Silver King, the Charbray bull he couldn’t seem to stay on for more than five seconds.

The arena was packed, one of the more popular rodeos he’d ridden at. He was far from Montana, thankful for the four horse stock trailer he called home and the 1998 Dodge Ram dually that had gotten him here. He’d been following that bull since Wyoming. And he’d continue to, until he made those eight seconds count.

A group of giggling women made their way toward him and he sighed. Spencer Dutton didn’t have time for chatting or flirting - he had to get it together for calf roping, his mare telling him to hurry it up as she pranced in place. He was trying, Lord was he trying. But his fucking shoulder —

“I hear you’re the cowboy who has stayed on Silver King the longest.” A female English accent interrupted his thoughts. It was soft, airy and had a slight laughing arrogance to it.

“That so?” He replied gruffly, dropping the Biofreeze into his duffle before buttoning up his shirt, fighting the wince of pain. Spectators weren’t usually allowed back here. Maybe she was a VIP or owned one of the horses… he didn’t trouble himself with the thought too long.

“Yes,” she carried on, sidling up to him, hands behind her back. He gave her what was intended to be a brief glance but lasted a moment or two longer than it should have.

She had bouncing blonde curls that settled against her shoulders in a whimsical style. Her blue eyes danced before him, like she knew a secret he didn’t. “Rumor has it over 50 riders have tried and yet you’re leading in time.”

The mare stomped as he secured his worn leather gloves, regarding her wearily. “You write for a newspaper?”

“Sorry?” She cocked her head with question.

“Is this an interview or…?” He clarified, untying to mare from the pen rail.

“Oh! No, sir, it is not. Just had to come meet the cowboy who continues to try to beat the bull Rodeo Daily calls a maneater.”

That made him snort. He hadn’t heard Silver King called that yet.

“That’s what they’re calling him now huh?”

“It is. And you’re the hunter. Set out to bring him down.” She said it with such a way of excitement, like she’d read that off a movie title line.

He could feel his expression morph into some mix of amusement and boredom as he soothed Katy, the paint, with a gentle hand to her neck. “You believe everything you hear?”

“Only when I want it to be true.”

“And why would you want that to be true?”

“For the romance of it.”

“There’s no romance in this,” he replied, adjusting his hat out of discomfort. Who was she? Where did she come from? Why was she asking such… deep questions? Maybe she’d had too many drinks…

Her steady, passionate eye contact told him otherwise.

“Then why do you do it? Why put yourself in such a dangerous position constantly?”

He held her gaze. “Because dying is the most alive you’ll ever feel.”

It was like he’d lit up something inside her soul, something she’d long hid. Her eyes widen, almost mischievously as she leaned in closer. His heart beat slightly faster as he searched her eyes for some understanding of this interaction. “You don’t see the romance in that?”

He felt something within shift. Something inside of him went toward her like a dowsing rod searching for water. It was in her gaze, in her expression… he was drawn to her. And her gaze matched his, setting his long destroyed soul ablaze.

Before he could say anymore, the group of women he had heard before were surrounding her, laughing and carrying on in the way spectators always did. But he didn’t see them.

Spencer only saw her.

“Come on Alexandra, Arthur is waiting for us in the box..” one of the women said, pulling at the blonde’s arm. She let herself be pulled, but it was reluctant.

Neither spoke as she was pulled away and he was only brought back to the present when Katy stepped sideways, pushing herself into his side. He let himself be pulled back to reality as he pushed her lightly back. “Yeah yeah, I hear you, let’s go,” he pulled down one of the split reins to lead her toward the arena. His eyes lingered back toward the woman, Alexandra, though. She was gone, the sound of her friends only barely lingering in the air. But she stayed on his mind for moments longer, the question of who she was and what had just happened something that would stick with him for a while.

#spencer dutton #spencer x alex #1923 #brandon sklenar #julia schlaepfer #alexandra #alex #spencer x alexandra #alex dutton #yellowstone #spalex au #rodeo story #king of hearts

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sammy-is-not-smiley · 2 years

Note

ok since you were looking for fic requests i have one for a robin x reader!!

reader is hoppers daughter. she dated jonathan for the entirety of freshman year. they broke up but it wasn’t bad. hopper keeps saying how good of a kid he was and how the reader should just get back with him. little does he know, she just wants to be with robin. so one day, she slips a confession note into robins trumpet case to meet her in the janitors closet after school. it goes well and they kiss a little ehe. maybe a part two or in the end she introduces robin as her girlfriend and hopper being confused but supportive 👀

Salty, Then Sweet

Robin Buckley x fem!reader

S4 SPOILER FREE

Summary: After going through the summer of 85' with Steve and Robin, you've had feelings develop for Robin. Now, after a sleepover with her, you suddenly felt the strong urge to confess your feelings. Could she love you too?

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings/tags: Underage drinking, language, PTSD, nightmares, nightmare scene, hurt/comfort, love confessions, Hopper is still in Hawkins after season 3, reader is hoppers daughter, gay kissy, timeline might feel off idk

A/N: I FINALLY FINISHED IT! The longest fic I've finished yet. This one was a lot of fun to write, I hope it's what you were imagining. I went a little off the request and then back to it lol

Butter sizzled in the frying pan, making you jump slightly out of your sleepy stupor. Your father had the heat up way too high on the stove again. He would tell you he liked how the burnt butter tasted, but you knew his pride was just a pill too big to swallow. You sighed heavily and rubbed your eyes, trying to listen to what your father was griping at you about this time.

“I'm just saying, he was a good kid to ya.”

Oh. Right. This again.

He sloppily cracked an egg on the stove and thumbed at the shell. “When you two dated he helped you keep a schedule. You were never too out too late, always got enough sleep,” He finally dumped the egg onto the hot skillet, “And your grades definitely saw better days with him.”

“Dad,” You groaned, resisting the urge to let your head drop to the table. “I’m pretty sure you liked Jonathan more than I did, but can we not talk about him now?... Not this early,” You finished under your breath. You hadn’t dated Jonathan Byers since freshman year. The end of junior year was just around the corner and somehow your father still pressured you any chance he got to get back with Jonathan. Your family had a past with his, sure, from small interactions to dealing with the supernatural. But your father's obsession with you getting back with Jonathan was starting to get annoying. You wouldn’t tell anyone this, but deep down you had never felt any attraction to Jonathan.

Your father sighed irritably, “Fine, fine. My point is you’re staying up way too late. You never used to come in here half asleep like this.” He gestured with his spatula and flipped the already overcooked egg. "I get you're young but sleep is important"

"I know."

"I don't even know what you would be staying up doing."

"Mm-hm."

"If this keeps up, though, I might have to take your radio or something-"

“You ever think maybe it’s because I have nightmares?” You suddenly snapped, startling you both.

His spatula froze a moment as if he was taking a second to buffer. His shoulders then sagged and he continued his cooking. You watched as he put fresh bacon, eggs, and toast on your plate then walked over and slid it in front of you. You stared intently at him, trying to gauge his feelings through his expression. It was no use, he rarely wore his emotions on his face. He put his own plate down across from you and allowed himself to fall into the chair. Neither of you touched your food.

After a bit, your father finally broke the silence. “I didn’t mean for you to get involved in my work,” He muttered, guilt present in his tone. “.... What kind of nightmares?"

You shrugged, gazing down at your eggs. The edges looked burnt, dripping with brown butter. “Those stupid monsters… and the Russians… Having to run for my life, watching Jonathan or Robin die in front of me even though they're still here… Stupid stuff.”

“Don’t call them stupid, they’re normal. You went through a lot… we all did.”

You nodded, thinking back to the events of the past summer.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You gave a weak shrug, flicking your bacon with your finger.

“How long?”

“Since I first saw one of those things in Jonathan’s house.”

You had been with Nancy and Jonathan when they discovered what they would later call the Demogorgon. You were right there when it somehow entered their house and attempted an attack. Lights flashing and heart beating out of your chest. Ever since then, your nights had never been the same.

“Shit… (y/n) Hopper, you need to tell me these damn things,” Your father chastised sternly, however, you knew this was just how he got when he cared. “I need to know when things aren’t good.”

You smiled bitterly, grabbing your fork. “If I did, I’d start sounding like the boy who cried wolf.” With that, you shoved your breakfast into your mouth. Things hadn’t felt good for a long while.

Your father leaned back in his chair with a heavy, unsatisfied dad sigh, then began going at his breakfast as well.

As you both ate in silence, your mind still lingered on just a few months earlier. You wished things could have stayed the way they were. Working with Steve and Robin at the mall was one of the best things to happen to you… until it quickly descended into madness once again. Yes, you all managed to stay together despite being kidnapped by the Russian government, but that didn’t make the situation okay. Far from it actually. To add to your trauma from interdimensional monsters, you ended up facing federal agent-level torture. It was the first time you ever felt true terror from the presence of other human beings. It was the first time you ever got beat up and bloodied. But towards the end of it all… It was also the first time you realized exactly what it was you felt for Robin.

While you wanted anything but for Rob to get involved and be put at risk, you felt better knowing she knew the chaos you knew was lurking in Hawkins. You felt better knowing you could go to her about your nightmares, which you did. Quite often in fact. Before your father, she was the only one you ever told. She was the only one you ever called at 3 am. She was the only one you felt like would ever answer.

As soon as you were finished eating, you got up and got ready for school. It didn’t take you long, the sleepless nights slowly forced you to make your self-maintenance routine shorter and shorter.

School hadn’t felt the same since all of this had started either. Ever since Will had first gone missing, tasks that should have felt normal… didn’t anymore. The feeling always hit you at unexpected times too. While walking down the hallway at school, during dodgeball, while shopping for groceries. You hated how that was no longer your normal and how fighting monsters was. You knew nothing would be the same and a sense of mourning for the past would come over you every time you remembered that.

---------

Lazily you stared at the blank chalkboard, mind empty, waiting for class to start. Somehow you managed to get to first period on time today, probably because your father had drug you out of bed for the ‘proper breakfast’. You could still taste the burnt butter on your lips.

“Hey, hey,” An chipper voice pulled you from your gaze. Robin sat next to you, a pile of textbooks thumping on her desk. “You got here before me! You slept better I’m guessing? I mean you didn’t call like usual last night. I hoped that meant you were doing better.”

The night before had been rough. It was one of those nights where you couldn’t close your eyes without seeing one of those monsters blooming their face of teeth at you. You could have sworn you heard one gurgling outside your window at one point. Guilt had kept you from grabbing the phone and calling Robin though.

“Yep, slept through the night," You swiftly lied.

She beamed, but it faltered as she leaned in and inspected your face more closely. “You got something on your face,” Her hand came up and wiped at the corner of your mouth, then she wiped it on her pants. “All good. Guess it was some breakfast I hope?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, fighting a smile, “Dad made us both breakfast this morning.”

She beamed once again, this time remaining that way. “Nice! Slept through the night and got breakfast. Look at you, a babe, and with your life together.” She nudged you on the arm, both the compliment and her touch making butterflies rage in your stomach. All you could do is smile in return, even if it was founded on a lie. “Hey, tell you what,” She continued, “Why don’t you come to my house tonight for a sleepover? My parents will be out late on a date so we can have a movie night! We have popcorn and fuzzy blankets-- Oh there's this one blanket I’ve had since I was little that's SO SOFT. No matter how much we've washed it, it somehow stays that way. I'm pretty sure if I ever go to college I would take it with me-” And from there she rambled on, happy as ever. You loved the way her eyes lit up and how her hands went crazy when talking about the things she loved. You were pretty sure you didn’t even get to tell her 'yes' to the invitation to her house.

By the end of class, she gave you a time to be at her house, offering to have Steve pick you up for her. You agreed considering he was the only person out of the three of you with their own car. With plans solidified for that night, you parted ways down the hall, to your dismay. You wished you had more classes with her.

The rest of the day was a blur and suddenly you were zapped full of energy as if her touch gave you just enough power up to make it until the end of the school day. Another failed quiz didn’t even bring you down like it normally would. Before you knew it, you were getting off the school bus and running down your driveway to hurry up and pack your things.

----------

Steve was in a rush to get you to Robins as he was already late for his shift at yet another job. You knew his boss would give him shit about it, but bless him for still pulling through for you and Rob.

You had scrambled out of his car at your arrival, just as eager to get to Robin as he was to get to work.

Your heart jumped in your throat at the sight of her when she opened the front door. Rob was wearing the shortest pair of bottoms you had ever seen on her. You'd go as far as to say they were boy shorts a size too small. It was compensated with a large baggy t-shirt from band, hand cut into a short crop top and exposing her belly.

"Hey!" She paused a second and leaned out the door. "The whore didn't bother to walk you to the porch?"

You scoffed, using it as an excuse to pull your gaze and instead look to Steve's car turning out of the driveway. "Nah, he's too anxious to get to his new flirting grounds." You felt a tingle in your stomach when Robin smirked at your remark.

Although snickering with her, you were deflecting the situation with humor. You liked Steve, he was sweet and a big dummy, but deep down… you were jealous of him. Jealous of how close he and Robin seemed to be. They always emphasized their 'relationship' wasn't a relationship at all, they were just friends. Strictly and forever platonic. It didn't change the fact you wanted that same kind of closeness with Robin though…. And maybe even closer.

"Figures," Robin rolled her eyes. "Get in here, make yourself at home."

You did so, kicking your shoes off and dropping your overnight bag at the door. As soon as you were unencumbered, she jolted and tossed her hands up in excitement. "Oh!! Did I tell you what Steve was able to get for us?"

"No," You shook your head plainly, smiling at her animation. You loved when she did that, even if it was mentioning Steve.

She grabbed hold of your wrist and drug you to the kitchen. Getting into the fridge, she reached to the back and proudly held up a bottle of tequila.

"Robin…" You whined, "We still have school in the morning, you know."

"I know, I know," She put her hands up in defense, "We won't get drunk or anything, okay? Just a few shots to relax."

You shook your head in disbelief, taking the chilled bottle from her. "Never thought you, the band kid, would peer pressure me into drinking. I think you're spending too much time with Steve," You jested, inspecting the bottle. Although once again, there was truth in your statement, you would admit spending the night watching a movie and drinking felt like a good plan.

"What can I say, he's clingy," She shrugged and took the bottle from you to set on the counter.. "Also I didn't know what movie to get so I think we'll just have Breakfast Club on in the background again while we drink and snack and whatever the fuck else we want to."

You nodded fervently, convinced she had somehow read your mind. "Let me change first though, I need to be comfy."

"Sure, you know where the bathroom is."

Walking past the front door, you grabbed your bag and locked yourself in the bathroom out of habit.

Once you were changed, you couldn't help but stare at your choice of pajamas in the mirror, comparing them to hers. Should you have tried wearing something more revealing? Could you have worn a shirt that figured you better? You about slapped yourself for getting insecure over something as dumb as your pajamas. Quickly, you gathered your things and yanked open the door, the only thing on your mind being shots.

When you got back to the kitchen, Robin already had the limes cut and ready in a bowl.

"Let's get wasted… but not," She elbowed you teasingly and began to pop open the bottle. You stared at her hands as she worked the cork off, slender and calculated with a dash of clumsiness thrown in. Her nails were painted but scuffed and her rings gleamed slightly in the fluorescent light. It felt like forever before she got the bottle open.

Right as she was about to pour the liquid into shot glasses, you stopped her. "Can you… just give me the bottle?"

She froze, wide-eyed at you. "... You sure?"

You nodded. Although surprised at yourself, you were ready for the anxiety in the pit of your stomach to drown in alcohol.

Hesitantly, she handed you the bottle. As soon as your hand connected with the cold glass, you tossed it back in two swift swigs, treating it as if it were water. Your regret was prompt as soon as you swallowed, your eyes going wide and coughs bursting out uncontrollably.

"Take a lime, take a lime!" Robin laughed, shoving the bowl of limes at you.

You quickly brought one to your mouth, although you were pretty sure it was too late, the desperation on your face evident.

"Damn, (y/l/n), never took you for the type…" She gawked at you, mouth slightly agape. It wasn't often you left her genuinely in awe of your actions.

You wearily tried to smile, but it caused your face to twist into a lopsided grimace, making both of you split your sides in laughter.

"Alright, fair is fair," She mumbled, swiping the bottle from you and copying your actions. The result was entirely the same, just reversed. You were now the one laughing at her as you pushed the limes to her.

The night went on like this. Against your better judgment, you kept gulping straight from the bottle. In between swigs, you tucked the bowl of limes and the bottle in some pillows between you both on the living room floor along with the snacks. The mixture of alcohol, popcorn, and candy sat uncomfortably in your stomach, but it didn't matter. The way Robin laughed when she drank was priceless. It made the butterflies numb the slurry in your stomach. You wanted to hold on to these moments forever. By the time Robin finally took the bottle away from you and back to the kitchen, you both weren't quite drunk, but you definitely weren't sober.

Before you knew it the movie credits were rolling and Robin was checking her watch. "Damn, mom and dad are probably on their way home." She stood from the nest of pillows and blankets on the floor and lifted her arms to stretch. The movement revealed more of her torso, her sports bra peeking out ever so teasingly. You quickly looked away before she caught you staring up at her like a freak. Little did you know, she already had and smirked to herself, cheeks heating slightly.

"We gotta be in bed by the time they get here or they'll be pissed. Ya know, school night and all," She mocked goofily.

You cleaned the living room and kitchen together and managed to finish up just as a pair of headlights appeared in the driveway. You both dashed up the stairs, racing to the bedroom together prudently. The front door opened just as you closed her bedroom door, making you both giggle like a couple of middle schoolers. In all honesty, her parents wouldn't have been all that upset if you two were still up. But it was still fun to make a harmless game out of it.

When the lights went out, you fell into a night of sleep faster than you had in months. Although you were sure the alcohol helped, you felt the safest sleeping next to Robin in the bed. Knowing she was right there made all your worries fade into the background, barely seen or noticed.

----------

It's so cold.

"Keep running!" A voice screamed at you from behind.

Something galloped behind you in hard impending steps. It was getting closer… And it felt like it had been for a while.

You sprinted through the woods, terror powering every stride you took. You couldn't bring yourself to glance back, for fear you'd catch sight of the creature pursuing you and the other person with you.

Your head throbbed, blood pulling through your veins at an alarming rate. You didn't know where you were, which filled you with even more dread.

Branches and bushes clawed at your skin like fingernails, leaving burning scratches in their wake.

The creature behind you roared, the sound rumbling deep into your gut. An approaching doom that was so close, yet somehow it hadn't arrived yet.

Suddenly a scream ripped through the air and reverberated down your spine.

Skidding to a stop, you looked behind you for the first time. A stiff body lay on the ground as a demodog feasted on the ripped-open belly. Blood. Blood was everywhere. On the leaves, the body, the demodog's face, your shoes, the trees… everything suddenly now sheened with fresh blood.

You watched helplessly as the limp body began to slowly turn its head to you and you fell to your knees in anguish.

Robin.

Robin was being eaten alive.

"Please…" She pleaded in a broken sob, however, her face showed no emotion as if she had already passed on.

You felt yourself breaking down on the inside, tears freely streaming down your face. Why didn't you reach for her behind you? Why did you leave her instead of running side by side? This was your fault. You were the reason for her suffering. You lost her because of your own selfishness.

"I'm sorry," You tried to cry out to her, but the words wouldn't form. Your throat felt like it was closing up. It stung and the breath was stolen from your lungs.

"Please…" She croaked again, blood beginning to leak from her eyes resembling the cruel form of tears. "(Y/n)..." Your name echoed from her in barely a whisper.

Your weeping was uncontrolled now and you attempted lamely to crawl to Robin’s aide.

The demodog suddenly stopped and trained its attention onto you. Although it had no eyes, you could have sworn it was looking into your very soul. Like it knew your guilt.

It gurgled and chittered menacingly, blood oozing from its odd lips in thick, viscous drips. It stepped over Robins's body, stopping and standing over her as if she were its property.

Its mouth blossomed wide in rows of teeth, Robins's flesh and blood splattering forward to the ground. A roar bellowed deep from within it, making the trees around you tremble in some sort of earthquake.

"(Y/n), please!!" Robin's voice screamed out at you. "Please, wake up!!"

The demodog lunged forward at you at terrifying speed.

"Wake up!!"

You awoke with a violent jolt, nearly tumbling off the side of the mattress you were on. Your eyes were suddenly no longer closed but wide open, darting around you for any sign of danger. Before you could get up from the bed and try to run, as was usually your first inclination after a nightmare, you felt the pressure of someone sitting on top of you at the waist. A pair of warm hands caressed your face at the sides, forcing you to look straight up at who had pinned you down.

Robins horrified but compassionate face looked down at you, her shoulders heaving in breaths as quick as yours.

"Oh thank God you're awake," She muttered, swiping your cheek with her thumb. It was cold and wet. Tears. "You started sobbing in your sleep."

The fear subsided slightly and the emotions came flooding in full force. It was all a nightmare… None of it had been real. "Oh god," You choked out, bringing your trembling hands up to her wrists. "Rob, th- that was… The worst one. That was the worst yet," You couldn't hold anything back, you couldn't stop the tears from flowing. She was okay. She wasn't dead because of you.

"Shit," She let out in a breath, then leaned down, pressing her body weight completely onto you in a type of hug.

You wrapped her in your arms and squeezed, both relieved she was okay and terrified of thinking of ever losing her. You tucked your nose into her shoulder, sobs racking your body in brutal tremors. She was so warm.

"I’m right here… I’m here…I thought they were getting better," She said nearly in a whisper. You felt her slide her hand to the back of your head and begin stroking it soothingly with her fingertips.

"They never were," You confessed in messy uneven breaths.

And that's where she left it. She didn't say another word to you that night, but you didn't need her to. The fact that she stayed there, pressing herself to you like a weighted blanket was enough. The pattern of her breathing was enough, the clean smell of her shirt was enough, the way her hair tickled your face was enough. Under her, you slowly could distance yourself from the images of the nightmare and you felt safer and safer. Only that way were you able to finally calm down and gradually let yourself fall into another slumber, tears still wet on your face.

----------

Beep beep beep beep

Robin's morning alarm… Right. You both still had school.

Your heavy eyes broke open to meet Robin's sleeping face mere inches from yours. Although no longer on top of you, she still had you pulled to her body by the waist, legs in a tangled mess.

You leaned over and hit snooze on her alarm clock, thankful Rob was one of the heaviest sleepers you had ever met.

The pillow cradled your head again and you lay there, staring at her lovingly. You watched her eyes lightly flutter in her sleep, her eyelashes thick and perfect. Her hair was an absolute bird's nest and it made you snicker to yourself. Then the events of the night before surfaced in your mind.

You had woken her up with your nightmare. God, it must have been really bad to have woken her up. Shame hollowed into a pit in your stomach and you pulled away from her touch.

You weren't sure how much longer you could take this. The nightmares weren't the only thing that had been eating you up inside for months. Every day your chest ached over Robin. Every day you wondered if today would be the day you would say something. It never was, but it was getting harder to keep it that way.

You loved her… and you wondered if maybe she could love you too.

After the night before, feeling her intimate touch when you were at your worst… hearing her lovely voice in your ear to ground you again… you knew you couldn't keep how you felt a secret anymore. Something had to be done. That felt like the breaking point.

You untangled your legs from hers and got up to begin getting ready for the school day. You were going to let Robin sleep a little longer, considering you kept her up the night before. The only thing keeping you going that morning was the fact that you could walk to first period together.

----------

Your bedroom door creaked open behind you and was paired with a quiet knock. "Hey, kid, how was Robins the other night?" Your father asked.

You paused your writing at your desk and didn't turn to look at him. "Good."

"Good, good… Sorry I had to work so late last night." It was quiet for a moment. "You… have any nightmares at her place?"

"No," You lied.

"Oh… really?"

“Really,” You nodded. Only then you turned to look at him. "She makes me feel safe, dad." You weren't going to try and hide everything from him…. Considering you were going to hide the note you were writing from him, you had to let some truth slip. Half-truths were going to have to be the compromise to keep your conscience quiet.

Your father simply nodded back at you, then told you he was heading out for work early that morning. You weren’t convinced he was fully appeased with your conversation with him, but you had other things on your mind to think about.

After his leave, you continued your writing.

Your hand ached as you wrote everything in a note. When the feelings started, the jealousy of Steve, the fear you had deep down that the feelings could ruin your friendship with her, her presence in the nightmares, your nightmare at her house, all of it. Nothing was held back. Once it was all written out and physically there in front of you… It scared you. But you weren't going to let that dampen the determination you felt to get this over with.

You asked her at the end to meet you in the alleyway next to the running track as soon as she was done with band practice. Once she knew everything, you needed to talk to her face to face. It felt like the final battle. The most telling moment.

After that, you let your pencil hover over the bottom line, hesitating to sign the note. In the end, you decided the leave it unsigned. All you could imagine was the worst-case scenario. The look of disgust Robin could have when she read it. You trusted she would know it was you based on the context and that she wouldn’t spread rumors. But if someone else were to find the note, you didn't want it to be traced back to you. This information had the potential to ruin the rest of high school for you both.

Tentatively, you folded the note and slid it into an envelope, sealing it with an ice cream cone sticker. It felt fitting.

Checking the time once you were done, you grabbed your things and went out to wait for the bus.

----------

At the end of the school day, you snuck into Robins's band practice in the gym, scouring for her trumpet case. You recognized it immediately and quickly slipped the note into it, heart beating loudly in your ears.

As quietly as you snuck in, you snuck out and made your way outside to the alleyway. You pressed your back to the cold brick and slid down, picking at your nails anxiously for her arrival.

You hoped the band director wouldn’t keep them long that day. The last thing you needed was to be sitting out there until dark or something. You missed the bus for this, so walking home in the cold at night was definitely a possibility. Sure, you could call your father, whether at the police station or at home depending on the time, but you knew he would drill you with questions as to why you were at school so late. You didn’t have the mental energy for an interrogation like that.

Before long, you heard the gravel crunching under the steps of someone approaching to your left. Too nervous to look, you kept your eyes trained on your hands in front of you. Behind them, a pair of beat-up red converse came to a stop. The person wearing them didn’t say anything, but you knew exactly who it was. Sheepishly, you raised your eyes up to meet Robin’s staring down at you. She offered a sympathetic smile and lifted the piece of paper with your handwriting on it. However, she didn’t say a word.

You raised your brow at her. “What do you want me to say?”

“Can you stand up?”

A sigh pushed out of you and begrudgingly you stood from the ground to face her. You hugged yourself, telling yourself it was because of the cold.

Robin shifted the paper in her hands and looked down at it, her expression unreadable. She was quiet, and that was out of the norm.

“I meant all of it,” You vacillated quietly, the silence between you both feeling too tense.

She nodded. “I know…” She looked up at you, eyes softening. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course-” You were cut off by her body crashing into yours, pushing you against the brick, and her lips meeting yours. For a moment you went wide-eyed, but it didn’t take long for you to close your eyes and melt into the kiss. You felt like you were spinning as her lips fitted perfectly to yours, dancing together in a choreography that only you two knew. Her hands snaked around your waist, the letter falling to your feet and your hands found themselves weaving into her hair, pulling her face to yours as if you two could get any closer.

She was the first to pull away, warm breaths tickling your cold face. If your cheeks hadn’t been rosy before, they definitely were now.

“Did that make sense?” She whispered after a moment, a worried smile growing on her face.

You smiled back and put your forehead to hers as you cradled her cheeks. “Absolutely,” You giggled. “And I loved every word.”

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