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kamaluhkhan · 4 months

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anti-curse

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of apollo!reader

summary: whether he knew it or not, percy jackson made the world a better, brighter place — and you intend to protect him, no matter what path the fates leads you down. fuck prophetic dreams. the future wasn't written in stone.

warnings/disclaimers: mentions of typical demigod things (battles, weapons, etc.); this is set during the heroes of olympus series so roughly follows that plot + features the seven demigods; mainly inspired by book!percy (dark hair, sea green eyes) bc that's the one i fell in love w growing up; characters are aged up from the book (reader + percy are meant to be 21-22 y/o) bc i imagine there was more time between prophecies/series....anyways, please enjoy <3

when you first met percy jackson, he almost shot you through the chest with an arrow.

given that apollo is your godly parent, you often found yourself at the archery field, which happened to be one of the first stops on percy’s tour of camp half-blood. after that first mishap, your other half-siblings were, understandably, too scared to let percy try again — frankly chiron seemed a bit hesitant as well — and you could sense that percy felt disheartened. so, you flashed the boy a reassuring smile before giving him a few pointers and a second chance. when he smiled back at you, you felt a fluttering in your stomach that told you percy jackson would be more than a little important in your life.

archery still wasn't percy's strong suit, but your gut feeling turned out to be true. you and percy had dealt with a lot since then — a handful of quests, several prophecies, more than a few near-death experiences, a titan war, and, maybe worst of all, high school. you couldn't imagine getting through any of it without him by your side, and you knew the feeling was mutual.

so, you were entirely anticipating that percy would be hurt by your announcement during dinner.

“no way that’s happening.” percy laughs, as if he can’t believe you’d suggest something as ridiculous as not having him accompany you on your quest. he remains unfazed, takes a sip of his electric blue coke before gesturing to the empty seat next to him. “come on, sunshine. have something to eat.”

the nickname sends your heart into a frenzy as you sit next to him. you and percy had never been anything other than friends, but sometimes....sometimes you look at his dangerous ocean eyes and wind-swept dark hair and it makes you blush. sometimes you consider the way his laughter fills you with warmth and his smile holds a thousand memories, the way he teases and winks at you and you decide that he makes your world so much brighter. sometimes you remember how sarcastic and thoughtful and loyal and reckless he is, his heart of gold and unpredictability of the sea. and you start to think that maybe possibly you'd fallen in love with your best friend.

that was not the issue at hand, though. you summon your favourite food and drink, but don't particularly feel like having either. percy returns to his conversation with hazel about how the two of you would drive up to montauk after you finally got your license, any time either of you needed to escape your reality, even just for a night. you'd sit on the beach, stargazing and roasting stale marshmallows and wishing to stay there forever. hazel seems to think that sounds like a nice escape, and percy promises that once the eight of you fulfill this prophecy, you'll all go to the beach house together, which makes hazel break out into a grin.

you can't help but smile at percy who loves his friends, who has loved you for so long. that feeling is quickly replaced by a pang in your chest that reminds you what's at stake. from the corner of your eye, you notice annabeth across from you, who looks at you like you’re a puzzle she can’t quite solve. you're trying to hide it, but if anyone can read you better than percy, it's annabeth. she knows something is weighing on your mind. you briefly lock eyes with jason, who you had gone to earlier for help, from the other side of the room, where he sits between piper and frank.

if you weren’t so distracted, you would have been able to enjoy dinner. the eight of you — all demigods of the current great prophecy — hadn’t been all together in a while, and it was nice to share a meal aboard the argo ii despite the reality of why you’d all been traveling together. leo had equipped the ship with magic plates and cups, and with the lively jokes and stories filling the air, you could almost imagine it was an ordinary summer evening at camp. you could almost forget that tomorrow, you had to go on a quest to rescue apollo and artemis from python, a monster so powerful your father barely defeated him thousands of years ago. you could almost ignore the impending war with gaea and the giants, and the doomed fate of the world if you were to fail. the one thing you could no longer ignore, however, is the gut feeling you have about the fate of the boy sitting next to you if your quest is to unfold the way you had first planned it.

you clear your throat, an attempt to interrupt the group's conversations.

“i was serious earlier,” you declare. “you’re not coming with me, percy. jason is.”

the smile percy had on his face fades. his eyes are filled with concern and disbelief, as he glances at you. “i – i don’t understand.”

"percy,” jason jumps in carefully, aware that he’s treading through dangerous waters like you had warned him. “y/n and i were strategizing earlier and it seems to make the most sense, given our powers combined."

percy shakes his head. “but — but you can’t just make last minute changes. we’ve already got everything set. right, valdez?”

leo shrugs, swallowing a mouthful of chicken before responding. “i don’t know, man. i’m no expert in quests, but it seems like i’m not the one who should be deciding this.” leo looks at you, and you nod gratefully.

you've been on edge since last night, and to calm your nerves you fiddle with the gold chain around your neck. it was a gift from your father: a necklace with a music note charm that can transform into an electric guitar or a bow and quiver. thankfully, you hadn't had to need both at the same time.

“it's up to me. and i want leo and jason to come with me.”

“then i’ll come too,” percy's voice remains calm, but insistant.

“isn’t there that thing about quests usually being done in threes?”

“that is true, piper,” percy agrees. he tilts his head towards you, like he's calling on you to remember. "exceptions have been made, though. like that one time with zoe." that had been years ago, when demigods from camp half-blood and hunters of artemis joined forces. five had been sent out on a quest, but only three came back. you shiver at the thought.

"or my quest through the labyrinth," annabeth recalls.

"but won't that also change our other plans, though?" hazel asks.

"not necessarily," you pipe in, your voice more assertive. "if jason and percy just switch. no harm done."

"we're not interchangeable," percy grumbles.

"hera sure seemed to think so!" leo searches the room for positive responses to his joke, but the most he gets is a half-hearted laugh from frank. "too soon?"

you take a deep breath. "it's not a big deal, really."

"it kind of is," percy counters. "you've never gone on a quest without me."

"you've gone on quests without me," you point out.

"that's...that's different."

"why? because i'm so weak that i need the son of the sea god to protect me at all times?"

you're giving percy the coldest stare you ever have. he hesitates to hold your gaze.

"you know that's not what i meant," he sighs.

"then what did you mean?"

percy looks at you, his eyes and tone softer. “look, sunshine, let's just stick with the plan, alright? we can just —”

“gods, you never listen, do you?" you finally snap. "you're not coming! i don’t want you there, percy!”

percy stares at you, stunned. you look around the table, and everyone looks back at you, wide-eyed. they weren’t used to this side of you, your sudden outburst not fitting in with your usually sunny disposition.

“well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” leo jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood, with less than ideal results.

“you saw something in your dreams, didn’t you?” annabeth realizes.

her conclusion makes you freeze.

demigod dreams are always significant, carrying vivid images of monsters, messages from friends or enemies. some children of apollo like you had visions of the future — pseudo prophecies that are supposedly set to unfold given the path you’re on. technically, you weren’t supposed to share your visions, something about messing with fate or destiny, but that didn’t mean you had to accept the way things were.

what you saw in your dreams last night, what might happen to percy, made your blood run cold.

you would defy all the laws of the universe and divine rules if it meant you could protect him. so fuck the path the fates are attempting to lead you down, and fuck prophetic dreams. you refuse to let percy die. no matter how frustrated you’re acting towards him in this moment, you know he would still do the same for you.

you figure that the future isn't written in stone, right?

either way, you're willing to challenge destiny for percy jackson.

without answering annabeth, you get up from the table and take a deep breath, carefully avoiding percy’s gaze.

“i go with leo and jason, or i go alone.” your voice is steady, fighting the heavy beating of your heart and tears caught in your throat. “either way, i leave in the morning.” you exit the mess hall before anyone — before percy — can protest.

#Spotify #when i was younger i didn't think people would want to read all the stories i'd make up in my head about this series #so im glad the percy jackson renaissance is here #there's something so healing about writing + sharing this blurb even if i'm still nervous #might fuck around and write another part because i have so many ideas of where this could go #percy jackson #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #pjo hoo toa #hoo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #pjo #saf writes #riordanverse

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feninina · 8 months

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𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷

therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓

𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁

It was awkward, to say the least.

You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.

This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.

He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.

Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.

And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.

"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"

Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.

You were landing right in the palm of his hand.

Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.

Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.

You have everything. That was bullshit.

Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.

You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.

It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.

And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.

Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.

It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.

Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.

But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.

You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.

Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.

So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.

It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.

He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.

After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.

One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.

"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"

You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.

You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.

"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"

You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.

That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.

He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.

After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.

You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.

After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.

You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.

It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.

But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.

You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.

At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.

He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.

"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".

You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.

You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.

Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.

Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.

"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"

He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.

He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.

"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"

The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.

But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.

"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"

That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.

"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"

He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.

You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.

He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.

"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.

It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"

You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.

Bingo.

"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"

It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.

Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.

"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"

Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.

"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"

You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.

A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.

"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.

Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.

"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"

"To be fucked stupid"

It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.

A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.

"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"

He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.

But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.

It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.

His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.

But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.

You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.

“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”

You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.

“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”

You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.

“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”

And maybe he was.

Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.

Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.

You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.

“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.

You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.

He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.

“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”

“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.

“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.

Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.

He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.

You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.

He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.

“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.

“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”

You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.

“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”

You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.

With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.

“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”

A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.

“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.

You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.

You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.

“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”

He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.

“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”

You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.

Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.

“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”

Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.

“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”

“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.

You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.

“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.

It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.

“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.

You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.

The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.

He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.

But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.

He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.

“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.

You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.

“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”

You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.

“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”

“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?

“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”

You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”

“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”

His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.

But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.

He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.

He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.

“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”

You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.

“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.

In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.

You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.

“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”

“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”

He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.

Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.

“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.

“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”

You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.

“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”

“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”

Then you realized it.

When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.

That was your cure.

His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.

You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.

He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.

He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.

When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.

“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”

You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.

When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.

You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.

thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)

taglist: @lovesickxcherries @genini @ilunapb @ostricx @devotedlyshadowytheorist

if you want to be added let me know, it’ll be my pleasure🫶🏻

#cillian x fem!reader #jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x reader #cillian smut #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #jonathan crane fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #jonathan crane x you #cillian one shot #cillian fic #peaky blinder imagine #batman fanfiction #scarecrow x reader

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hellyeahsickaf · 6 months

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The way addicts and chronically ill people are dehumanized is so exhausting

The normalization of this shit in medical and casual settings is genuinely mind boggling. Addicts and disabled people go through so much bullshit. I've dealt with many fucked up doctors when I just needed help

I had a kidney infection, some months back. This is always extremely medically urgent, and I was likely only hours from sepsis. I went to the hospital reporting my pain to be a 9/10. 9 because my 10 was gallstones. I experienced severe malpractice at the hospital and the doctor reported exams that never occured and false information while making me wait with nothing more than tylenol to hold me over (didn't touch the pain) and bring my fever down but that's a whole other story

They did however, deny me the pain medication I needed until it was time to go home. I'm deathly allergic to NSAIDS, but that's something an addict might say so they witheld pain relief because they'd rather me suffer just in case I'm a different kind of sick. An entire night, maybe 6 hours in the ER and they couldn't give me anything, not a small dose of morphine or one norco even a few hours prior to take the edge off of the pain while I was curled up shaking and crying. Just in case I was an addict looking for my fix, and my suffering was just withdrawals and good acting. In that case maybe I deserved it and should be denied my humanity. God forbid in that case I'm so desperate to alleviate unbearable withdrawals that I spend all night in the ER crying. Not the first time I've experienced red tape just to get relief from excruciating pain

But whatever. As per protocol I was asked to follow up with my pcp. So a few days later I called to set an appointment, but I'd also run out of norco and desperate to relieve the pain I asked if I could be filled even enough for a few days, until the pain was bearable. I had difficulty walking, laying down, and I again, can't take most pain relievers. The receptionist was nice and understanding, actually got me in touch with the doctor because she wanted me to be able to get my refill. Probably heard the pain in my voice even. She believed me

She transfers me over to the doctor and I tell him I'd like a follow up and ask if he could fill my painkillers. I would've acceped a no from him, I just needed my follow up. He asked about my condition, I told him my diagnosis and how much pain I was in

And he laughed.

Got a real hoot out of it, like he had me all figured out. Like he caught me trying to cheat the system. I must be trying to get high or make some money with a few days worth of norco as i'm nearly in tears from the pain even while calling

He tells me through his laughter "I don't prescribe painkillers for 'kidney infections'" saying it with a mocking emphasis on those words, as if I'd said "stubbed toe". Follows with "Yeah haha, bye." and hangs up on me. No follow up like I called for. Needless to say I no longer have a pcp but truly if he thought I was an addict trying to take advantage of him he should have still treated me professionally. Maybe not cackled when I said my pain was excruciating for a start

I just don't understand why the hell so many doctors can be so apathetic to people's suffering. Addicts deserve better and so do disabled people- whether you think they're addicts or not. The assumption that we're lying, trying to trick them and are feigning pain to do it is disgusting, listening to your patients is so important. And if that were the case they could have some sympathy and ask themselves what it would take for someone to go those lengths, take such drastic measures and go through that trouble to obtain those substances.

Addiction is not a moral failing. Many disabled and chronically ill people unfortunately rely on medications that have addictive properties. About 80% of heroin addicts first misused prescription drugs. However only about 4-6% of those addicted to prescription drugs switch to things like heroin. And instead of help or compassion for people who just need help (addicts or not), they just figure we're one in the same and treat us like subhuman degenerates, leeches on society. And I think people need to change how they view addiction. Doctors need to change how they view addiction

#cfs #chronic pain #chronic fаtiguе ѕуndrоmе #chronic illness #fibromyalgia #disability #actually disabled #spoonie #me/cfs #cfs/me #ableism #ableism tw #medical ableism #addiction #ok to reblog #medical stuff #tw drugs

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strawberries-and-summer-days · 1 month

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"Midnight troubles"

Pairing: Show!Luke Castellan x apollo!fem!reader!

Summary: an awkward moment, night patrol and a shitty girl later....

Contains: swearing, fluff (i guess?) angst, mentions to the giggidy (nothing actually happens), derogatory terms/names used

Word Count: 2108

A/N: i was sleep deprived and cluelesss when writing this so enjoy :)

You've been friends with Luke Castellan since the day you showed up at camp drenched in water and he showed you around. You've been inseparable since then - y/n and Luke. Luke and y/n, you were a package deal, wherever one went the other followed.

On this particular day you had seated yourself down on a sunny patch of grass to sing. Luke had settled himself a few feet away from you pretending not to listen as your lips parted and sound sweeter than any strawberry escaped your mouth.

His eyes shut peacefully as your song washes over him. He's always loved your singing, everyone does, your song can seem to stop time for a few moments. But Luke likes to think he loves it the most - he's your best friend, of course he gets that right.

Once you finish singing you open your eyes and Luke is staring at you with pure amazement and... something else you can't quite place. Whatever it is, it's gone in a blink. "That was beautiful, y/n," he smiles.

"Like you," you tease standing up and reaching up to ruffle his hair. "You do know you don't have to sit with me and listen every time I sing don't you?"

"Yeah, I know. But I want to," Luke says, standing up with you and pulling you into a side hug. "You've got a really beautiful voice y/n."

You brush it off and wrap your arm around his waist walking along with him. "Oh but its not as beautiful as yours," you joke and Luke's laugh vibrates through you sending a jolt of tingles and a wave of repressed feelings.

You watch as Luke laughs and can't help but smile yourself. You and Luke have been deemed the camp's Mom and Dad. If anything was wrong and you didn't want to take it to Mr D or Chiron the campers would go to you two, Apollo and Hermes cabin counsellors. That's when the rumours started. Luke and y/n are dating. Although you've both denied it several times the campers never listened and you were dubbed Mom and Dad.

Even though you denied it, a small- a medium- okay a pretty huge part of you wants it to be true. I mean who wouldn't want Luke Castellan to be their boyfriend? He has offers piling up every day from girls. You're pretty sure you've even seen someone offer him a fucking apple with the words 'will you go out with me' carved into it. Luke said no of course - she was a frigging psycho - but even then he never said yes to any of the offers, the ones that you knew about anyway.

"I got patrol tonight after the campfire," you sigh and break away from Luke to give a younger boy from Aphrodite a hug when he showed you his result from arts and crafts. Not noticing how Luke tenses beside you until the boy runs off to tell his friends you hugged him.

"I'll come with you, there's bound to be some shit heads sneaking off to go hook up," he rolls his eyes looking directly at some Ares camper who you've both caught several times. "And besides, gods know you couldn't handle the dark without me."

You scowl at Luke smacking him. "Haha very funny, a daughter of the sun god is afraid of the dark, it's hilarious." Luke just grins and catches your hand against his chest, holding it there, when you go to hit him again. Your laughter fades and you both just stare at each other for a moment neither of you wanting to break it but also wanting to admit to the other that there was something happening.

Luke clears his throat and drops your hand gently. "Whatever loser, you're the one stuck with me," you tease and kiss his cheek. Walking away before you lose your nerve. Holy shit why'd you do that? you scream inside your head. What the fuck? Why? Why? You couldn't have walked away normally, but noooo you had to kiss his fucking cheek.

You press the palm of your hands into your eyes and accidentally slam into someone. "Shit sorry!" you cry out looking down to see the poor camper you practically ran over.

"It's okay! It's okay!" Percy says looking up at you and then over at Luke who hasn't moved since you walked away. "Did you break him or something?"

"Or something," you mutter, helping Percy up. "Sorry again, Percy." You force a smile onto your face and sigh as you look at Luke.

"Yeaaah, you messed him up damn." Percy drawls. "Like really messed him up. Damn what did you do? Did you like, kick him in the balls or something?"

"Percy!" you shout shutting him up. He doesn't even have the decency to look apologetic when he says sorry and then scurries off when Grover calls out to him.

Sighing, you shake your head and grumble to yourself about its going to be hella awkward tonight.

~~~

Something was wrong with Luke's heart. It hadn't stopped beating wildly since y/n had kissed him on the cheek and he was trying to control his erratic pulse when he rises up the steps to your cabin.

He knocks twice on the door and takes a deep breath when you open the door and look up at him. The deep breath is cut short when he notices you're wearing his hoodie. You smile up at him and ask, "you ready to go catch some horny teens?"

He nods and lets you lead the way. "Sure, yep, let's go Sunflower." You both walk in silence for the first two minutes before Luke works up the courage to say, "nice hoodie, there by the way, it matches your flashlight."

You twist around and grin ignoring his dig at your flashlight - it's white with a bunch of sunflowers hand painted on. "Yeah, some super, cool, really annoying guy gave it to me." Luke's eyebrow arches and you roll your eyes. "Fine, I stole it from the guy, cause it's soft and smells nice," you mumble that last part and Luke tilts his head at you in question.

"What was that last part?"

"It's soft?"

"No, the other part?"

You're quiet for a moment before mumbling, "it smells..... nice."

Luke practically stops breathing, but covers it up with a smirk. "You think I smell nice?"

You internally slap yourself. "Yes," you quietly answer. Well you know what? When you thought it was going to be awkward earlier? That's nothing compared to the tension right now.

A loud moan comes from up ahead behind the trees and you sigh tugging the hoodie closer before running up ahead to break up whatever situation is happening.

"Hey!" you yell out to the two campers whose clothes are dishevelled and hair all mussed up. "Get back to your cabins! And when I say cabins I mean your own cabin." The two kids scramble away back to their cabins swearing.

"Fuckers," Luke mutters from behind you. "I swear they always choose the same spot."

You spin around and smile, "they'll be back don't worry, you can bust them next time."

After you both make your rounds, catching three other couples, you end up in a secluded spot near the lake.

"So," you start looking out to the water, smiling softly. "What do you wanna talk about?" You shove the flashlight in the front pocket just soaking in the moonlight - and besides Luke's here, he protects you from the dark.

Luke looks over at you and steps closer wrapping a hand around each of your - well technically his - hoodie's drawstrings. "I don't really know..." he trails off and then looks down at you, your eyes shining in the moonlight. And then something must've possessed him because he leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on your forehead.

You look up at him in surprise. "What was that for?" You ask, noticing how Luke's eyes shine with affection.

"Just paying you back for earlier."

You both freeze then - not tensing up but just not moving. Staying in the small bubble that you two have created for yourselves. The comfort of the silence that surrounds you both covers you like a blanket.

Your faces inch closer, your breaths mingling as your eyes meet and you swear you can hear your heartbeat. Can Luke hear how loud your heart is beating? Like seriously? It's so loud.

Everything seems perfect before a loud laugh erupts in the distance. You sigh and pull away from him and start walking over to where the noise came from. Were you going to kiss just then? Holy shit. Was that actually happening?

Luke's presence at your side sends you into a tailspin. Does he like you? Or was he only doing that out of pity. You reach into the hoodie to pull out your flashlight but a hand wraps around your own and you skid to a stop, looking down at Luke's hand intertwined with yours.

Luke doesn't stop though, he just keeps walking, hopefully not noticing how red your cheeks are right now.

You both round the path and find a girl sitting on a fallen log hidden in the trees, she's wrapped in nothing but a blanket she must've brought from her cabin. When the girl sees you - well more like see's Luke - her eyes brighten up.

"Oh Luke! You're finally here! I was waiting for you." A frown instantly replaces the soft smile you have on your face.

"What?" Your voice is quiet and confused.

The girl shoots you a smug look. "What? Did you actually think Luke wanted to spend time with you tonight?" She smirks. "He was only killing time to spend it with me."

What?

You know what the girl is saying is wrong but when you look at Luke you almost start crying. He's quiet at your side staring harshly at the girl. He's not denying it. He's not denying it!

"Lukey and I have plans now bitch-girl, leave." Your teeth clench so tightly you're afraid you're gonna break your jaw. Why isn't Luke SAYING ANYTHING??

You stare frigidly at the girl. "Look, I wanna say Gina..?" she asks purposely misnaming you.

"It's y/n."

"Right that's what I said," she smirks. "Now unless you want to watch me and Luke roll around on the ground here I suggest you leave."

You stay put fighting your ground. Why is Luke not saying anything??

"Ooh we've got a bit of a slut on our hands do we? Damn Gina, I didn't know you were into kinky shit."

"I don't-"

She cuts you off. "It's fine I don't mind you watching like the whore you are."

WHY ISN'T LUKE SAYING ANYTHING?

The girl turns her eyes on Luke again. "I'm waiting for you Luke. Tell her to piss off. Or better yet, tell her that we've been sleeping together."

Luke stays quiet, his eyes locked on the girl.

What. The. Fuck?

The girl opens her mouth to start again but you turn around before she can say anything else.

"Y'know what? I'll leave you two to it," you spit, forcing the tears that spring to your eyes to stop.

"Wait y/n!" Luke calls out suddenly, but you've already launched into a sprint not caring what he has to say now. He didn't deny it. He didn't deny it. He didn't deny it.

Tears blur your eyes and you struggle to pull out your flashlight, tripping over a tree root and stumbling to the ground. You face plant onto the ground and even though you're wearing long pants you can feel your skin being torn.

It's dark and cold

You have scratches along your face and arms - where the hoodie pushed up - everything burns your skin, your face, your eyes, your heart.

He didn't deny it.

You pat around looking for your flashlight. No, no, no, no, no. It can't be lost, no! Luke painted it for you, when you first came to camp and when he found out you were afraid of the dark.

Luke made that. Your Luke made tha-

Your face crumples.

Luke.

He didn't deny it. He didn't say anything. He didn't stop her.

Your heart heavy as you do so, you stand up, fighting the new wave of tears that threaten to overcome you.

A chill hits you and you pull the dirty hoodie closer. It still smells like Luke.

And...

And its dark...

Shit.

Anger pools deep in your gut. She called you a slut and a whore.

That bitch better watch it.....

©strawberries-and-summer-days

a/n: lemme know if you want a part two!!

#luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #fanfiction #fanfic #percy jackson fic #percy jackson fanfic #emma writes ₊˚⊹⋆

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kiame-sama · 3 months

Text

Drag Me to Hell- (Yandere!Alastor x Chubby!Reader) pt 4

Warnings; Several spoilers for EP 8, violence warning, mention of blood warning, injury, stick with it I promise, kind of cliffhanger, Nifty is a wild little thing,

~~~~~~~~

"Ah, the celebratory night before a courageous last stand. It's been a surprising thrill to witness these wayward souls find connection. Almost makes one sentimental, eh Ladies?"

"I really like them, Alastor. They let me put on roach puppet shows without booing!"

"Ah, an enjoyable collective to be around. I admit, one could get accustomed. What do you think, my precious Doe?"

You stood with Alastor and Nifty, watching the sinners you lived with for months drink and enjoy their evening. Part of you was honestly sad you may not see them ever again after that night. Who knew what heaven had in store for everyone or if anyone would even make it through the onslaught.

"I... hope everyone makes it through this. I don't know how much help I can be to them, but I truly want to help them however I can."

It was then Alastor laughed, almost seeming hysterical in his laughter and that put you on edge. Something about his laugh made you feel like you had said something that set him off and that was a concerning feeling for you.

"My adorably naïve Doe, what in Hell makes you think you're going to be anywhere on that battlefield? No, no. You'll be safe where you belong in your microphone home and far from Heaven's table scraps. Enjoy this night, Dear. This may be the last time you see our wayward pals again."

You were both unsurprised and horrified at Alastor's words. Part of you honestly thought you would be fighting the angels with the others and to hear Alastor so casually state his plans to lock you away upset you. There was no fighting or arguing with Alastor, but you also felt compelled to at least try and convince the cannibal demon to allow you to stand with the souls you befriended.

Before you had the chance to speak, there was a sudden weight added to your head and you saw Nifty putting an oddly woven crown with several dead roaches on Alastor as well.

"I dub thee King and Queen Roach."

"Oh, to understand your twisted little mind."

Both Alastor and Nifty laughed, but you struggled to find the same humor in the moment when the reality of all you could lose loomed over you.

~~~~~~~~

Everything was dark spare for the glowing neon lights outside of the broken radio tower. So vastly different from what it had been seemingly moments before. The arms that wrapped around you and held you snugly only served to ground you from the absolute terror you had been in.

"Please..."

Your voice was a whisper that only seemed to echo among the rubble around you. His arms tightened in response for just a moment, his body tense. The broken microphone you had been contained in was clenched in one of his fists and almost felt cold against your body.

"Quiet, sweet Doe... Do not speak now..."

A part of you was terrified to remind Alastor that your deal had been broken and you didn't need to follow his orders anymore, but an even stronger part of you hesitated to think back on how it all fell apart.

It came from seemingly nowhere. You were safe within the microphone when the blast of heavenly light pierced into you. What neither you nor Alastor realized was that when a deal created item like the microphone breaks, the deal and the soul bound to it break as well. That was really all you remembered before your own mind blocked the rest out to protect you.

You winced at the memory despite your now healed stomach. When you awoke after being swallowed by Alastor's darkness, your body was healed almost completely. The only thing left of the splitting injury was a freshly healed scar around your midsection and an oddly empty feeling within.

Alastor couldn't stop himself from replaying the memory over and over in his mind and he hated what it meant for him and the soul he had found himself so fond of. Mostly he hated how he had reacted to it and the truth he now knew in himself. He couldn't deny now that he needed you and losing you was enough to show him that.

The sound of your choked and gasping cries made agony rip through Alastor's damned and tainted soul far more than he realized it would. Both pieces of the microphone in his hands and your soft body laying beneath Adam's axe as the angel grinned maliciously down at you. Your deal with Alastor to keep you safe and alive had been broken.

"Well, ain't that cute. Looks like I got your little fucking sinner bitch instead of you, she- this is one of heaven's souls. Where the fuck did shit like you get a soul from heaven? Damn it! They'll lose their shit if I kill one of our souls!"

He couldn't deny it, but he would never admit to it. Alastor would never admit to being afraid and desperate to not lose you because his own ego couldn't take it. Though he could no longer delude himself, he could still delude everyone else. Everyone except for you.

"Make another deal with me, my innocent lost Doe of heaven. Keep my eternal secrets for me. Broadcast for me with your pure radio waves and soul. I will keep hell from tainting you, and you keep your heaven touched soul reserved for me. Strengthen my radio station and be my trusted pet once more..."

Alastor hummed against your shoulder in a soft tone, knowing that he needed to get you back on his leash. He wasn't the only one in hell aware of your pure soul anymore. A heaven touched and claimed soul so untainted and pure was a very rare thing. Whatever angelic pride resulted in you being wrongfully cast out allowed Alastor a fantastic trophy of a soul. Despite still being considered the quarry of heaven, you wound up in Hell and you would remain there if he had anything to say about it.

A sinner's soul was one thing. One of heaven's souls was another entirely.

"Refuse... Well, we both know the broadcast can keep your sweet voice and soul protected for another half a decade. At least I don't make you scream for it."

~~~~~~~~

Vox watched the video over and over again of the soft woman Alastor supposedly kept within his microphone. What that stupid first human said peaked his interest in this Hell-bound heavenly soul. If he could get his hands on that soul there were certain to be some grand abilities paired with it, not to mention the value of such a soul in Hell's market.

All Vox had to do was convince Valentino and Velvet to put value in the same soul and it would be akin to a one-way ticket to the strongest overlords Hell has known. Well, that and wresting the pure soul from Alastor's control. It shouldn't be too hard given the fact that their deal was broken, but Alastor was likely to try and make another deal just to keep that sweet soul to himself.

On top of just the heavenly soul, the soul of the little maid Nifty was certainly a hot commodity given just what she did at the end of the extermination battle. With both souls in hand, Vox might not even need the other Vees in time. He could rise above the two Vees he had teamed up with and become more powerful than even Zestial.

No doubt the other Vees won't be too difficult to convince when it comes to the idea of collecting the two high value souls. Once Vox has his hands on those souls and can use them to taunt that old-timey prick, he will finally have everything he wants within his reach.

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel

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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 6 months

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K follow me Astarion just sees tav like loving on children wherever they go and hes like?????

And tavs like ive always wanted my own child but i didn't wabt to ask you with every

This sends poor starion into a crisis does he was children how many

I think I have followed you. Let's see!

So for this one we got a lil time jump, ambiguous and vague setting and timelines with game spoilers present. M/F pairing because that is my go to and pregnancy is mentioned. Vampiric pregnancy also so there is some weirdness there (i made it up no idea if it's dnd accurate). Vague Tav backstory of a wonderful mother and going off to become a cleric.

Astarion was well used to your antics by this point. You had a severe lack of instincts linked to self-preservation, which led to a consistent pattern of doing, frankly, stupid shit. Stupid, but kind. Nothing that Astarion hadn't adapted to, after nearly two years of being attached at the hip you became pretty attuned to your lover's personality.

He could even go as far as to say that he had grown to love your annoying predilection for pious morality. Perhaps he loved talking you out of certain virtuous dangers more, but still. He appreciated who you were, he adored who you were. But Astarion was no saint, despite his insistence on attaching himself to one.

Which is exactly why he was far from amused when you signed him up to babysit a couple of brats. All for acquittances he barely cared about.

But you at least had the good grace to look guilty, "I didn't mean to! But she looked so tired and she said their anniversary was coming up and it's not like we got anything for their wedding-"

That was a nice try, one that Astarion wasn't falling for, "We didn't know of their existence when they got married darling. Just because I can't remember their names doesn't mean you can trick me."

"I'm not trying to trick you!" You whined, arms crossed as you pouted. It sure felt like a trick, especially when Astarion knew that you were well-aware how easily he fell for your sulking. Adorable little monster that you were, "It's only three kids and a baby for one night, it won't be that bad! You don't even have to help-"

Astarion rolled his eyes as he sat next to you on the bed, "I didn't say I wouldn't help."

That seemed to do the trick to get the pout off of your face. You perked up immediately, looking at him like you couldn't quite believe it, "Really?"

"Yes, really," Astarion sighed as you tugged you closer. Sure he liked to bitch, but he really would do anything for you. Even extremely annoying things like this, "I'm not going to sit back and feed you to the wolves."

"They're not wolves! The oldest is barely five," You laughed as you let him manhandle you, settling you into his lap, "And I am sorry, I really wasn't thinking. I promise it won't happen again."

Astarion doubted that, not when he was well-versed of your weak spot for children. No matter where you went you couldn't help but fawn over them, not to mention the insane lengths you would go to keep any child safe. It was a complete and utter blind spot, your kindness extending to them all, even the little scam artists and hellions.

It was sweet, if not extremely worrying at first. Astarion had been terrified of you finding out his past. The things that he had been forced to do, the innocents whose lives he had destroyed. But not only did you find out, you were forced to see it. Both of you were, and it had been worse than anything Astarion could have imagined. He had always found a slight comfort knowing that those he captured would at least die quickly, that at the very least they wouldn't suffer the same agonizing fate as he, just an agonizing death. But no, even that small comfort had been a lie. The horror of finding them all down there has yet to be matched. He had never felt more self-loathing, more pure disgust than the moment he had found those children, tortured and pale, all because of him.

How you didn't see him for the wretched thing he was after all that, Astarion wasn't sure. But he was grateful. You were too good for him. A fact that he was devastatingly aware of, but that wasn't going to stop him from keeping you.

He still thinks about it on occasion, despite the fact that he had done all he could to right his wrongs. They all at least had a chance now to have a life worth living, Astarion could only hope that it would be used. Their future was out of his hands now, a small comfort.

But despite his complicated feelings towards children, he was more than capable of handling them for one evening. And in all honesty, he truly didn't have to do much. He was on self-mandated baby duty, because of course you had to help out the infant that would scream bloody murder unless it was being held. Keeping her tucked against him was a move of self-preservation, if he ever wanted to retain his hearing.

Most of the night was spent amused as he watched you entertain a gaggle of toddlers. You were so... creative with the ways you could defuse their antics. It came to you so naturally, nearly like you were a born mother yourself. It wasn't exactly surprising that you were fantastic with children, he had seen it time and time again. Arabella, Mol, Yenna, all of which still wrote you letters, visited occasionally. Staying forever attached, even from a distance.

Now that Astarion thought about it, it was odd that you weren't a mother. Odder still that you hadn't never even brought up the possibility of having children together. You were usually so open with your wants and always encouraging the same from him. Just one more thing he loved about you. But... why hadn't it been mentioned? Astarion had always assumed it was because you didn't truly want any of your own, that you enjoyed their fun innocence while avoiding the more laborious responsibility of raising them.

Though watching you take care of them all, changing diapers and negotiating silly arguments with a soft smile of your face had him rethinking his assumption.

"You're good with them," Astarion said eventually after you had successfully set the older three down for the night, the baby still stubbornly clinging to him, "I don't think there's a child we've met that doesn't adore you."

You laughed quietly, walking over to kiss him softly on the cheek. Your eyes wandered to the sleeping infant in his arms, still holding a piece of his shirt in it's little fist, "You don't seem to be too bad with them either."

"Newborns don't know any better," Astarion dismissed as he tried to put her down in their borrowed crib. Tried and failed, considering how the thing immediately started to whine the second he attempted to pry it's little hand away.

Oh for fuck's sake. Astarion wasn't even going to try and argue. Instead he unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall into the crib with her, seemingly doing the trick of stopping her from waking completely.

When he turned back you were staring at him with soft eyes, looking lovestruck at the simple act of him laying a child down, "Looks like she has pretty good taste to me."

"I don't think your judgment should be trusted," Astarion huffed as he walked over to you, grabbing your hand to drag you to the bedroom. He glanced back at you, his heart nearly skipping a beat from the sweet way you kept looking at him. It had his mind wandering again, those questions still nagging him.

Questions that he didn't have the courage to ask until dead of night, when he had you half asleep against his bare chest, "Have you ever thought of having children?"

He hadn't meant to blurt that out in the middle of the night, but Astarion apparently had a knack for starting important conversations at inconvenient times. Not that you minded.

You just cuddled into him closer, nodding against him with a sigh, "I've always wanted my own children. My own mother, Gods bless her soul, made it all sound so magical. Pregnancy, the early years, puberty, all of it. She loved it all. And I guess it rubbed off on me. It used to be all I could think about, before real life got in the way."

Astarion listened, a little annoyed at himself for not putting the pieces together sooner. You had talked so lovingly about your late parents, how you always wanted to be like your mother. Of course you would want children. How had he not connected the dots?

"But then I went off to the temple," You continued, "I completed my training, went off into the world to do good, blah, blah, blah. You know the story."

"So you grew out of the idea?" Astarion asked.

"Not exactly," You admitted, sounding a little guilty, "But I would never ask that of you love, it's not something you have to worry about."

That-what?

Astarion stared down at you, brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"

"I mean I know that the topic of children is... difficult for you. Considering everything you've been through-"

"I think you mean to say everything I've inflicted on others," Astarion interrupted, unwilling to allow himself grace. Especially when it came to the children of the Gur, "It was much worse for them than me."

You nodded, knowing better than to try and fight him on that particular topic, "I understand, but my point is that I can live without them. You're all I need."

It was comforting to hear, an immediate balm to a brand new set of insecurities that Astarion hadn't been prepared for. But even so... he hated the idea of you sacrificing even more for him. It felt wrong, "But-"

"But nothing," You interrupted softly, setting a quick kiss to his mouth, I'm serious Astarion, you don't need to worry. I'm happy, I love you, and everything is fine."

"I love you too," Astarion murmured, at a loss to say anything else. But the conversation didn't end there.

Astarion couldn't stop thinking about it, even long after the temporary children were sent back home. ou seemed so... sure that he didn't want children, and a week ago he probably would have agreed. But that was back before he knew that he was actively keeping you away from something you wanted. Something you had dreamed about since you were a child. And it felt wrong to be the reason for that, so, so wrong.

He didn't even know if his true feelings on the matter were real. He didn't want children for many of the same reasons he never wanted a partner. The attachment to another was dangerous, he was beyond unequipped to deal with others, let alone care for them, and the entire ideology behind love was ripe for manipulation and heart break. But then he met you and everything changed. Suddenly, caring for another didn't feel like a weakness, it felt like the strongest aspect of his entire self. Taking care of you wasn't an unwanted duty, it was intimacy. Something that he now craved. If all of those steadfast ideals could fall apart simply through meeting you, whose to say he could even trust himself when it came the thoughts around having a child?

Would having one truly be so bad? A little piece of the two of you, alive in the world? And perhaps children were annoying but... Astarion would be lying if he said he didn't have a soft spot for them. He had kept his distance before, but now he was fully confident that he wasn't a danger, no with Cazador burned to nothing bus ash and his own bloodlust well controlled. And it's not as if he was incapable of being a father, worse men than him did it everyday.

It was a confusing place to be, this tightwire of indecisiveness. Confusing enough for him to start a bit of research. He was vaguely aware that it was possible for his kind to breed, but finding out the details was disheartening, to say the least. First he had to parse out the different horror stories of babes eating their way out of their mother's wombs with actual facts, which wasn't exactly pleasant. But the truth was that it was more than possible for the two of you to have child together. It had the potential to either be as noneventful as any pregnancy, with the cavate that the babe coming out looking slightly... dead wouldn't be a permanent state of being. Or it could be as risky as carrying a child could be, with pains and complications galore, even legitimate worries of internal bleeding from the wretched thing prematurely growing claws. Not to mention the occasional, intense blood lust that could occur, an experience that Astarion would prefer you didn't have to go to.

Looking into the reality of the choice didn't help as much as he had assumed it would. If anything it just made the whole situation more real. Even if he wasn't a vampiric spawn, childbirth was risky. Maybe not as risky for you considering how Astarion would move the heavens and hells to get you the best care possible, but still. The thought of you passing, leaving him alone with the child you wanted and would never see, would destroy him. Completely and utterly.

But then again... there was the magical alternative of everything working out just fine. The two of you were both beyond lucky in that regard, considering how you'd overcome mind flayer parasites and fought and won against a near god. It was more than possible that everything would be fine, that you would have a beautiful pregnancy that would end in an even more amazing child. Then two would become three, a family of his very own.

That... didn't sound too bad. Astarion was torn. On one hand, he was almost certain that he was willing to go through with it. Not just because he loved you and wanted you to be happy, though it was the main reason. But also because... he could be a part in making something good. A child that would never suffer the way he did, the way countless others had. One who would be loved, who would have the help they needed for their inevitable unholy hungers. Someone precious for the two of you to fret over, to adore and care for. He... wanted that. Or at least he would if you still did. Now if he could just figure out how to bring it up, maybe something could actually happen.

But luckily enough for him, you did the job for him. He had been pouring over another book dedicated to recording the births of Dhampirs in the area, only to be distracted by you loudly sighing behind him.

"What's wrong love?" Astarion asked, his eyes still scanning the page in front of him.

"Oh I don't know," You sighed, rounding the corner to sit on the edge of his desk, "I just can't help but wonder when you're going to explain why you've suddenly become obsessed with parenting books. And..."

You trailed off, ignoring his surprised expression to read the cover of what was in front of him, "'Vampiric and Mortal Love & The Spawn They Create'. It's not exactly your usual reading material."

Part of Astarion wanted to be surprised that you had already figured him out. He had at least been trying to hide things from you slightly, not that it mattered when you could read him like a book. And he supposed that blatantly reading things like this in front of you would eventually have an effect, even if he tried to obscure the titles.

But that didn't stop him from stuttering through a response, "Well-I, okay. I've just been thinking about options lately. Which you can't really do if you don't understand what they are. Hence the books."

You frowned at him, one leg crossed over the other, "Star, I already told you that you don't need to worry-"

"But I want to worry," Astarion interrupted, deciding that ripping the band-aid off would be the best course of action, "And if there is something I can be doing to make you happier than I should at least consider it."

"I'm not going to force you into this for that," You said softly, reaching out to twine his fingers against yours, "This isn't the kind of thing you do just for someone else."

Astarion was aware of that, there was an important truth to your words. But... "What if it wasn't just for you?"

You paused, your brow furrowed as you stared at him, "What do you mean?"

"I mean what if, and consider this purely hypothetical, what if I wanted one as well. What then?" It was as far from hypothetical as Astarion could get, but by the look on your face it didn't seemed like that needed to be clarified.

You swallowed, looking just shy of hopeful as you played with his hand, "I... well. I guess in that case we would have a lot to talk about."

That wasn't quite the answer he was looking for. He pressed on, "So if in theory, I did want one. Would... you still be interested in having one?"

With me?

He left that part unsaid as he waited for an answer, uncharacteristically nervous as you mulled it over. But you were smiling, bright and wide, giving his hand a little squeeze as you spoke, "I think that would be the only scenario where I would want it. If that's something you wanted."

"I think it is," Astarion answered honestly, done with being coy, "I don't know how, I... I'm not quite sure how I feel about you carrying something that could be dangerous. But... in general yes. I think I want this. I do want this. With you and only you. Whenever your ready."

The next part Astarion did see coming, his arms already open by the time you launched yourself at him. You straddled his lap, kissing every part of his face as you babbled, "We can wait! It doesn't need to be now but-I just-yes! Adoption, childbirth, I don't care. All I need is to have them with you. That's all I want."

"And that I can give," Astarion laughed, delighted at your reaction. He still had concerns, plenty of them in fact, but they were hard to consider when the woman he adored was so ecstatic.

He gripped your chin, chuckling at the whine you let out for him interrupting your onslaught of affection. You didn't have to wait long, not when he directed your mouth against his, kissing you deeply as a new wave of exciting, and slightly nauseating feelings worked through him.

He didn't know exactly what was going to happen in the future. He had no idea if he would be a good father, but he knew that he would try his damndest. He didn't know how the two of you would even procure a child, but he did no one thing.

With you by his side, it would work out. All of it, no matter how hard the road turned out to be. And that was all that mattered.

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #asks #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #spoilers #pregnancy mention #should i do a part 2 of this?#dhampir baby part two?#fun fact im actually so scared of pregnancy it sounds like hell to me #so pregnancy/child fics are very interesting to write #personally #i'm getting through these asks slowly but surely #nine more to go!

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spdrvyn · 10 months

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full stomachs, fuller hearts — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: miguel has gotten used to eating dinner by himself so you decide to change his nightly routine.

THIS FIC CONTAINS: literally nothing but pure unaldulterated fluff. gender neutral terms mostly but querido is used once.

NOTES: OKAY so this was actually a request for someone but i was a dumbass and accidentally POSTED the draft when i meant to save it for later, i panicked and deleted the post so now i lost the request from my inbox forever 💔 whoever that dude was i hope you find this and i hope you enjoy

Lonely dinners were always a common occurence for Miguel.

That was just how things are. After a long and drawn out day of protecting the multiverse, protecting the city, protecting everything that he's built up and coming home to a desolate penthouse.

It was the norm for him, he had grown accustomed to it. Being isolated in general wasn't a foreign concept to him, but you brought more change to his life that he thought he would hate.

He loves you a lot. You two had been in a committed relationship for a few months now but haven't moved in yet. The every few hours during a day that you would get to visit him or perhaps he could swing by to your apartment were the only times he felt some sense of warmth in his cold, silent life.

It's not like he didn't want to ask you to move in, he does. Oh, so badly. It's just that the constant fear that he's going too fast or getting too excited over this newfound love. He doesn't want to scare you away.

There was also just a small part of him that was getting too used to being around you. It's gone to the fact that whenever he ate dinner, he'd always imagine you on the other side of that table, laughing and sharing stories about how you're day went.

When he snapped out of it, the sight of the empty chair across him brought his spirits down even more.

You were aware of this too.

Which was why you were up at the wee hours of the night, trying to watch an online video recipe for making empanadas. You knew how to cook enough meals to get by but you wanted to try something different for Miguel.

The bar was set a little bit higher this time. You've been over at Miguel's place before and he has cooked for you and every single time you've tried his dishes they were utterly delectable.

You didn't only want to make all of this food for him just because he's constantly eating alone but because he's really expanded your tastebuds ever since you two developed a much more intimate relationship. You could at least owe him one homecooked dinner.

Reminders to yourself, thank Lyla for letting you in and don't blow up Miguel's penthouse.

As you followed the tutorial step-by-step, you couldn't help but let your mind wander a little further. You wondered how Miguel was doing right now.

Yes, he's strong and agile in an almost inhuman way but at the same time you still worried for him. If only he could be here right now, you'd love to have the opportunity to cook with him.

He was grateful that you weren't in the present moment with him right now, his stomach growl in anticipation for it's next meal as he was running and swinging from rooftop to rooftop to get back to his penthouse.

There were many obstacles that he encountered on the way back. The classic old lady getting her purse snatched which gave him severe déjà vu, a bank robbery, and a cat stuck in a tree.

He grew progressively exhausted with each stop, not forgetting that he had his actual duties at the headquarters that he just left from. Sore muscles and a throbbing head, a painful combo for Miguel.

Maybe he should just skip dinner altogether and opt to immediately pass out on his bed, showering in the morning and having a very heavy breakfast. Yeah, that would work...

He glares into the window of his penthouse, not because he was hesitant to make the jump but because the lights were open. He was sure that he left all of his rooms in complete darkness before leaving.

With one final jump, his claws dig into the edge of his window as he pulls himself up. His eyes narrow, in attempts of getting a good peek of what exactly was going on.

An intruder, a home invasion, Lyla having a party without telling him were all of his possible theories.

What he didn't expect was to see you setting up his plate on his kitchen island, plates of delicious smelling food prepared as well.

There was an intrusion, that's for sure. The intrusion of blush on his cheeks, which he quickly had to shake as he took his mask off.

However, as quickly as it disappeared, it came back once he saw the look on your face the moment you noticed his presence.

Pure glee and warmth is how he'd describe it. It's also how he'd describe the embrace that you immediately pull him into, throwing the silverware that you were readying.

It's not like he hesitated to touch you either, he wrapped his arms around you. So glad that he gets to bask in your existence again, bask in you.

"What's all this, querido?"

You separate from Miguel for a brief moment before walking over to the kitchen counter, proudly showing off your creations. "Empanadas and menudo!"

It was like stars clouded Miguel's vision as it all goes through his mind. You came to his house, fixed up a whole meal for him, and for what? He doesn't remember getting you any gifts recently.

So why?

"Are you just going to stare or are you going to try one?" chuckled you, at least it got Miguel to snap out of his daze. His hands reaches out to one of the empanadas and he takes a bite.

Okay, if he was being honest, he's tasted much better before.

But you put so much thought, so much time, and so much care into making this for him. All of those qualities overshadowed the taste and dryness of it, filling his stomach with something else entirely.

This was probably one of the best empanadas he's ever tasted.

"It's really good." He says, swallowing the last of his food, "Best that one I've ever tasted, mi cielo." Then leaning in to press a small kiss to your forehead, warm hand cupping your cheek.

"You're just saying that, Miguel. I tasted them before you got here and they're really dry."

"Still the best I've ever tasted."

He continues to plant kisses on you, trailing from your forehead to the bridge of your nose to your cheek then boarding at your lips, you giggle into the kiss but before it progresses any further, he stops and pulls away.

"Do you want to move in with me?"

request rules here, masterlist here

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #gender neutral reader #gn reader #reader insert #x reader #fluff #romance #cute #domestic

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dcllzai · 14 days

Text

"You got me a puppy?!"

Nakahara Chuuya x gn!reader. SFW. Fluff / Your boyfriend Chuuya has been begging you for a puppy for years now, one day you decide to cave and while he's asleep you adopt a fluffy golden retriever and place it on his sleeping body for him to wake up to a fluffy surprise. CHUUYA LOVES DOGS OKAY?

For years, Chuuya had been the master of puppy-eyed begs, his pleas for a furry companion echoing through your shared home like a broken record. Whether over breakfast or during cozy movie nights, especially if the movie was about puppies, Chuuya never missed an opportunity to remind you of his dream of having a puppy. His arguments ranged from the practical "They make great companions, you know!" to the downright adorable "Just imagine us taking long walks together in the park!"Despite your love for Chuuya and his undeniable charm, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt every time you had to gently decline his requests, citing reasons like busy schedules or lack of space. But deep down, you knew that one day, you'd find a way to make his puppy dreams come true. As the morning sunlight gently filtered through the curtains, illuminating the room with a soft glow, you carefully carried the fluffy golden retriever into the bedroom. With a mischievous grin, you gently placed the puppy on the bed next to Chuuya, still deep in slumber. The puppy, sensing the new environment, sniffed around curiously before settling down beside Chuuya, its warm breath creating small puffs of air against his cheek. You couldn't help but smile as you watched Chuuya sleep peacefully, unaware of the furry surprise awaiting him. With a quiet chuckle, you tiptoed out of the room, eagerly anticipating his reaction when he woke up. Several minutes later, you heard a soft stir from the bedroom followed by a yawn. Slowly, Chuuya blinked his eyes open, greeted by the sight of the adorable golden retriever nestled beside him. His eyes widened in surprise, a mixture of confusion and delight dancing in their depths. As Chuuya's gaze met the golden retriever's warm, trusting eyes, a wave of disbelief washed over him. Was this real? Had his persistent pleas finally paid off? He couldn't believe his luck as he reached out to gently stroke the puppy's soft fur, feeling the warmth of its little body against his own.

"Surprise!" you exclaimed, poking your head back into the room, unable to contain your excitement.

Chuuya's heart swelled with emotion at the sight of you standing there, a beaming smile lighting up your face. It was a moment he'd dreamed of for years, and now it was finally here.

With a joyful laugh, he pulled you into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead before turning his attention back to the puppy. "You got me a puppy?! I..I don't know what to say..."

"You don't have to say anything," you replied, your own eyes shimmering with happiness. "Just enjoy this moment."

And so, as the morning unfolded with laughter, cuddles, and endless puppy kisses, Chuuya couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude. In the soft light of dawn, surrounded by love and warmth, he knew that this was the start of a beautiful new chapter—one filled with wagging tails, sloppy kisses, and a lifetime of unforgettable memories.

As he looked down at the golden retriever snuggled against him, Chuuya made a silent promise to cherish this precious gift and the one who had given it to him, for the rest of his days.

#★﹐Alice writes．﹗﹑#bsd #bsd writing #bungou stray dogs #bsd fluff #chuuya nakahara #nakahara chūya #chuuya x reader #chuuya bsd #bsd chuuya #chuuya fluff

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delulu-hours · 7 months

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Dog tags

Pairing: Jake Seresin x F!reader

Summary: Where reading a book has you fantasying about Jake and his dog tags as he has his way with you.

Waring: 18+ smut, unprotected, biting

A/n: Thank you @agentorange9595 for the request and the lovely idea! On a side not, I am not good at writing smut, but I hope you like it.

You couldn't help but bite your lip as you read the book in hand, fighting back a smile and the urge to giggle. Jake had been out for training, and you knew he would be back late, so you decided to finish the book you were reading. It was about a grumpy special op who fell in love with this badass sunshine girl. You had cried with the female lead when she learned about the terrible past the male lead had and the torture he went through during his ops. The romance was there, and it was hot. And there were several instances where they had hot, rough, and steamy sex. You had never felt jealous over the sex in the books until now. And it wasn't how the male lead was fucking her nice and slow, taking his time but being rough. No. It was for a simple reason.

That reason was that he was fucking her with his dog tags on.

Yep, the dog tags.

As you finished the sex scene, you let out a small groan. You rubbed your thighs together for some relief before placing the book down. "Pure thoughts." You told yourself, trying to help remove the image of Jake hovering over you, his dog tags hanging from his neck. The way his skin would glisten and how you would just be able to pull him closer by the tags. Another groan left your lips as you pulled the pillow to your face, and a muffled scream left your lips. This was torture. You had never known how deprived you were from the sight of seeing this man fuck you with his dog tags. The need for it. The only issue now was asking this from Jake. Asking him to rail you like no tomorrow so you could still feel him in you for days, and your legs couldn't handle walking. To the point where he would leave bruises on your hips from how hard he'd grip you. Your face flushed at the thought, and you wanted to curse your best friend for ever introducing you to a new world of smut. You pulled out your phone and shot her a quick text.

I hate you so much, but at the same time, I love you for recommending this book to me

10:47

You're welcome, and don't come at me with the innocent act cuz we both know it's just a mask.

10:52

You are anything but innocent, you're just too shy to ask.

10:53

You rolled your eyes at the message but placed your phone on the nightstand. You were almost done with the book and knew you could finish it tonight; however, you were ready to be done with it, so you just placed it on your nightstand. You turned off the lights and got ready for bed. Jake had told you not to wait for him, as you both knew you'd try to stay up until he came home. As you got comfortable, snuggling close to Jake's side, you drifted off and fell asleep quickly.

______

Several days passed, and now where you were, holding your drink in your hand. You could see the chain peek out from Jake's naval uniform from where you sat next to Bob and Nat. Lately, your eyes have been drifting to it, and you couldn't help the images that filled your mind as you bit your lip." You okay there?" Nat's voice broke your concentration as you looked at her. A smirk on her lips as she raised an eyebrow. "You look ready to jump him and rip his clothes off." The heat flushed against your skin as you let out a guilty laugh.

"Is it that obvious?" You pressed the back of your hand against your cheek. Nat just laughed and nudged you with her arm as you drank the rest of your drink in one go.

"So much so, but don't worry about any of these meat heads noticing except one." You looked up only to see Jake giving you an amused look, the pool stick in his hands as he took a drink of his beer.

"Oh my gosh," You mumbled. "I think I need another drink." You quickly got up, and Nat followed you.

"Want to tell me what that's all about?" She asked as she hooked her arm with yours as you went to the bar. "Usually, Jake's the one who looks at you like a meal he's ready to devour, not the other way around." This makes your face heat up even more, and the heat between your legs grows.

"Promise not to laugh." You gave her a pleading look as you found two open stools at the bar. She gave you a slight nod as Penny approached you guys.

"What can I get you girls?" She asked with a smile.

"I'm gonna need two shots of tequila." She gave you a look before going to get the shots. Nat had gotten her usual. "I've been reading this book, and it's steamy, Nat." You looked over at her, and a small sigh left your lips. "And when I mean steamy, I mean the girl is bent over while the guy fucks her like he's on heat, leaving marks everywhere. Claiming her and praising her." She raised an eyebrow. "And by no means is that the part that has me like this. Sex with Jake is amazing, but there's one detail in the book that has me running these images in my head, and I can't help it."

"Oh god, please don't talk about sex with him." She scrunched her nose, and you shook her head. Penny came back and placed the drinks in front of you.

"Y/n talking sex?" She joined in the conversation, surprised as well. You weren't one to be open about these conversations.

"No." You shook your head. Taking one of the shots and taking it down in one go. There was a slight burn in the back of your throat as you placed the glass down. "No, I'm not talking about my sex life. All I'm saying is that I wish Jake would keep his dog tags on. The book I'm reading has plagued my mind with the thought of it, and I need it now." You looked at both women, who seemed amused about your confession. "I'm serious here, guys."

"Oh, we know that, honey," Penny patted your hand. "And I think that is why it's entertaining for us." You rolled your eyes and took the next shot; this time, no burning sensation followed.

"It also sounds like you've been deprived of sex for a while." You shot Nat a glare as she snorted. "Like a beast has awoken." You groaned and placed your forehead on the counter.

"I hate you so much." She just laughed, and Pen gave you another shot. You looked at the small shot glass that lay beside you. You rubbed your thighs with a slight whine that left your lips. "I hate ever reading that book even though it's so good! I even saved my favorite parts on it." You pushed yourself up and took the third shot for the night.

Little did you know Jake's eyes had been watching you the entire time. Since the moment he started playing pool with Coyote, he had felt the way you had been looking at him. He felt your eyes burning into him– undressing him– and if he was honest with himself, he enjoyed it. It was rare when you were filled with so much lust and need that you didn't even realize yourself that you were showing it. He knew you weren't as innocent as you looked; however, you would never voice out what you liked. And he didn't mind it one bit. In fact, he loved it whenever he would discover something new about you. Just like at this moment, he had a vague idea of why you were acting the way you were. He accidentally stumbled across a book he had seen you read recently. He got curious about what it was about whenever he saw you, as your reactions were entertaining. So when his curiosity got the better side of him, and he opened it on a marked page, he wasn't expecting what he read. It was a lot to take in that he had to stop himself before getting worked up, but also because it hadn't been something he expected. The details were so vividly written. Just thinking about doing what was written to you made him hot as he pulled at the collar of his naval shirt. He could see the flush that dusted your cheeks even from where he stood. Coyote called out his name; Jake ignored him, passing the pool stick to Bob as he stalked toward you. He could hear Phoenix teasing you and Penny laughing, but he didn't care what they said. You had him worked up, and now he needed you, preferably in the comfort of your home. "What you ladies goin' on about?" He drawled, his hand touched your lower back, and he felt you flinch. He rubbed his thumb on your back and felt how you leaned into him. Reacting to his touch like you usually would.

"Nothin', Y/n was telling us a funny story." Nat had an amused look on her face, and you glared at her.

"You don't mind if I steal her from you then?" Jake asked, already knowing the answer as he moved his hand to your waist, pulling you up. You stumbled a bit due to being caught off guard and the alcohol running through your veins. Nat shook her head, and that was all he needed before drawing you out of Hard Deck.

"Jake," You whined when you were out the doors. "I was still drinking." He moved you towards the truck.

"I think you've had enough for the night, Darlin'." You shivered at the sound of his southern accent sounding heavier than usual. "Wanna tell me what has been goin' in that pretty little head of yours?" When you reached his truck, he turned you to face him. His green eyes looked darker, and you didn't know if it was from the night or from the lust that dilated his pupils. His hands were firmly on your waist as he looked down at you. You bit your lower lip as you took him in. He looked beautiful, but the silver chain that caught your attention was sending you overboard. You pushed your hands up his chest as your fingers grazed the chain. He watched you curiously as you pulled his dog tags, freeing them from his shirt. Your fingers play with the chain before they move to the tags. "Is it that book you've been reading?" He asked, and you looked at him with wide eyes. He would see the needy look on your face, the way a pout sat on your lips. He watched the conflict in your eyes before you made up your mind. He felt the pull on his dog tags as he was forced to lower his face to you. His eyes widened, not used to the sudden dominance you were showing.

"I need you to fuck me, Jake." He felt your lips move against his. He felt how his blood seemed to rush through his body and straight to his groin. "I want you to use me, baby." He felt the tightness in his pants. "Fuck me rough. Mark me up." You pressed a soft kiss on his lips. "Please," You begged, looking up at him through your lashes. A growl ripped out of Jake's lips, and he gripped your hips tighter. A small whimper left your lips as you felt his fingers dig into your waist. And then it all happened too quickly. He got you in the truck and drove back home.

_____

You barely made it through the doors when his hands were all over you. He pushed you up against the wall and pressed up against you. You could feel him. How hard he was. A small moan left your lips as he groped your boobs through your shirt. "You did this to yourself." His lips moved against your neck before his teeth sunk into your skin. You let out a small gasp as you gripped his arm, your nails dug into his skin. His name left your lips with a needy cry. He grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it off you before moving to your bra. His fingers traced the lace fabric over your skin, taking in the black color. "Fuck you're so pretty, sunshine." He was tempted to rip your bra. Rip the rest of your clothes, blocking his view of your beautiful body.

"Jake," You gave him a warning tone, already knowing what he was thinking. "You rip my lingerie, and I will cut your dick off." You threatened. He raised an eyebrow as if the temptation was there. He knew you didn't mean it; however, he had ruined a few of your favorite sets.

"Yes, ma'am." He smiled as he lowered himself, placing kisses and allowing his teeth to scrape your skin as he lightly bit you. The goosebumps rose on your skin, and you gripped his hair. Just as he got to the waistband of your jeans, he unbuttoned it. Light feathered kisses on your skin as you threw your head back. He observed you as he slowly pulled your pants down. Your eyes dilated as you looked down at him. He kissed my thighs, and you brought them up, stepping out of your pants. "Look at you," His fingers grazed the front of your black laced underwear. He could feel how wet you were. "All wet for me, and I barely even touched you." He watched as you rocked your hips against his fingers. His other hand gripped your thigh.

"Jake," You whined, needing more. He moved his hands to the back of your knee. Pushing you over his shoulder, he picked you up and marched to your room. A smack echoed in the room, and you felt the burning sensation on your ass. You pushed yourself back up, surprised by his action, while he had a satisfying grin on his lips. He kicked the door open to your room. He didn't even say anything as you dropped him on the bed. You bounced a couple of times as you watched him unbutton his shirt. That look in his eyes made the pit in your stomach flare up. He looked at you like a predator, and you were his prey. He took his shirt off like he was ready to pounce on you, and your eyes racked down his chest. The dog tags hung around his neck and down his chest. You bit your lip as you looked at him, taking in his beauty and how the tags seemed to decorate him. It added to the fuel you had racing through your mind. You moved to your knees, your fingers touching his skin about his waistband as you looked up at him. The doe-eyed look you gave him made Jake groan as he fought the urge to ravage you like the animal he felt. He watched as your fingers undid his pants, your nails scraped his pelvic skin as you pulled his boxers down. He let out a hiss as his cock sprung up and smacked his stomach. You licked your lips as you reached out to grab his throbbing cock. Your thumb ran along the head, rubbing the precum across before you stroked down slowly.

"Fuck," Jake moaned, and you looked at him through your lashes. He looked down at you with hooded eyes as you pumped back up. His face twisted with pleasure before he grabbed your wrist. "Baby, if you keep touching and looking at me like that, I won't last." He pushed the words out, his tumble rubbing the inside of my wrist. "Tonight, it's going to be about you." He pushed you down, hovering over you as he removed your hands. He used his free hand to move your thigh so he could settle in between your legs. He was slightly rocking himself against you before he pulled back. A frown settled on your lips from the lack of contact. He just had a smirk on his lips. "Take it off, or else they're gonna get ripped." He claimed, motioning to your body. He slipped his pants and boxer off completely, and you wasted no time taking off your underwear and bra. You laid back, watching as his hands wrapped around himself and giving himself a few pumps. His eyes looked at you with such hunger it caused the arousal to gather between your thighs. His hands over the head of his cock as you spread your legs open, showcasing your glistening folds. His nostrils flared as he clenched his jaw. He didn't even bother grabbing a condom as he settled between your thighs. He guided the head of his cock, coating it with your arousal. His left hand rested by your hips as he held himself up. Each time his head rubbed against your clothes, you whimpered. Desperately trying to get him in you, you shifted your hips and gripped his wrist.

"Jake, please. I need you." You begged, needing him now. He didn't even deny you as he guided himself to your entrance. He didn't even bother prying your hand off his wrist as he held your hip down. He used his hold on you to slip himself in with a full-force thrust. You gasped, back arched as you felt him stretch you open. He forced himself not to close his eyes from the pleasure as he watched the pleasure on your face. Using both hands on your waist, he pulled out all the way, causing a cry to leave your lips before slamming back in. He did that a couple of times, and each time; your reaction drove him crazy. Your nails dug into his skin as you gripped his arm. He moved down to capture your lips, using his right arm to steady himself. The cool metal touched your skin, and you brought his lower lip between your teeth, biting it lightly. Your teeth dragged against his lower lip as he pulled back, and you felt his left hand grip tightly around your waist; you wouldn't be surprised if he didn't leave bruises. He began to move himself in and out of you; the noise of your skins coming into contact echoed in the room. Moaned curses left your lips as your ankles locked behind him. "Jake- fuck- don't," You squeezed your eyes feeling him hit your sweet spot. "Don't stop, please." He groaned, loving to hear your sweet pleas.

You opened your eyes, and a hazy look of pleasure filled your eyes as your gaze lingered on the dog tags that hung between the both of you. You brought your hand up and lightly tugged on it. Jake felt the way you clenched around him. He slowed down, and you looked up at him, ready to complain. "Is this what has been driving you up the walls, princess?" He raised an eyebrow. When you bit your lip and didn't answer, he rocked his hips before pulling out so the tip of his cock rested in your pussy. "Words. Have you been all needy little thing because you've wanted me to fuck you crazy with my tags?" You whined as he pushed himself in a bit. Even if not being in you was torture, Jake needed to hear you say it. You clenched your walls, trying to get him in you. "What did I say? Use your words." The tone in his voice was demanding. You closed your eyes, lip quivering from the lack of him.

"Jake," You tried to push your hips down, but he held you in place. You knew he wouldn't give you what you needed until you answered him. "Yes," You finally gave in. "I've been wanting you to fuck me with your tags." You looked up at him with hooded lids, and your lashes fluttered against your cheeks.

"See," He trusted himself in you, and you felt full again with him in you. "That's my good girl. It wasn't hard, was it?" You watched as he spun the tags so they would hang on his back, and he felt you clenched down on him hard. "Fuck," He groaned, using his strength to steady himself. "I'm gonna ruin you tonight so this naughty pussy remembers whose it belongs to." He promised, and you felt yourself tense up, knowing that quote a little too well. He licked his lower lip, a smirk dancing on them. You were in for a long night, and you were screwed. He had read your book, specifically the part you had marked.

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

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unreliablesnake · 1 year

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Stay (Vincent de Gramont x reader)

Summary: Vincent would go to great lenghts to keep you by his side.

Note: Previously on... / I can't get enough of this dude. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button. I don't have a taglist.

You gave Vincent the silent treatment for the rest of the day, even refusing to breathe the same air as him. You locked yourself in your room, although all you could do was lie in bed and stare at the ceiling since he had taken away your phone back in New York. It was hard to be all alone here, especially knowing that your friends were in the very same city at the moment.

He tried to come in. He kept his manners in check and knocked instead of barging in, but since you refused to answer, he eventually gave up and left. Then later there was a soft knock again, one which was followed by a letter being slipped into the room under the door.

With a sigh, you picked it up and sat on the edge of the bed to read it. He invited you for dinner, and he wanted you to wear a dress he had left in front of your room. It wasn't a long letter, but you could feel his adoration through every single handwritten word. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. Why did he have to do this? Why did he have to be so nice to you?

After opening the door a little to make sure no one was nearby, you brought in the box with the dress to take a closer look at it. You hated to admit it, but Vincent's taste was impeccable. This was the perfect color for you, the perfect silhouette, the perfect fabric. And the matching nude shoes were heavenly too. Everything was great, and you hated that you loved it.

Two hours later you walked down to the hall where Vincent was waiting for you, wearing another phenomenal suit and looking as dashing as always. And when his eyes landed on you, you could tell his breath caught in his throat. He opened his mouth to say something, probably a compliment, but when you shot a warning look at him, he changed his mind.

He took you to a fancy restaurant, but instead of going to a table far from the rest of the guests, they led you to a private room in the back. Well, what were you expecting, really? That he would spend the evening among ordinary people? Vincent talked to a waiter in French once you settled down across from each other, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from smiling.

Silence ruled the room when you were finally left alone, but you didn't feel like breaking it. You wanted him to suffer. You wanted him to understand that he couldn't always get what he wanted. And he got the message. As those beautiful green eyes were glued to you, you noticed the change in his expression.

“Marry me,” he said out of nowhere while he pulled out a ring from his pocket.

You almost fell off your chair. This must have been a mistake. Something was definitely wrong with your hearing. “I'm sorry?” you asked hesitantly, even though you saw the ring that proved it was way too real.

Vincent flashed a charming smile at you. “You heard me.” He stood up and walked around the table to stop right in front of you. “Marry me.”

“No,” you gave him the only reasonable answer.

“Why?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused. “I would give you everything your heart desires.”

You couldn't help but laugh at him. Did he just try to buy your love? “I don't want to stay here, I already told you.”

“You would seriously leave me for your life in New York?” he asked, a hand finding its way to your cheek as he spoke.

“Yes.”

Suddenly he crouched down and steadied himself by putting his hands on your thighs. “Wouldn't you miss me? Be honest with yourself. Wouldn't you wish I was there with you whenever you felt lonely?”

“Don't,” you warned him.

“You want me, mon amour, why are you trying to deny it?”

“Stop projecting.”

His fingers dug into your skin through the fabric of your dress, moving towards your core painfully slowly. “You kissed me several times on your own free will. You slept with me because you wanted to. Why are you acting like you didn't feel anything?” he asked.

It was terrible and wrong and damn it, he was right. You had given in too many times for your liking in the past few days. Winston was right, he knew how to charm a woman. When his hands reached your inner thigh, you put your hand on his to stop him.

But he didn't react the way you expected, because he was quick to lace his fingers with yours, raising your hand to his lips. “Stay with me,” he whispered against your skin.

“John will win, and when he does, I'm going home,” you told him plainly, hoping he would finally accept it.

Vincent let out a sigh, clearly trying hard to keep his composure, and stood up. He didn't say anything, instead he sat down and pushed a button on the little device the waiter had given him. Soon the wine and the food began to arrive, and the two of you focused on that instead of talking about his ridiculous idea.

The next day you were livid. This son of a bitch appointed Caine to be his representative in the duel because he didn't even care enough to do it himself. Or he was just sure John would easily kill him so he chose a way that ensured he would stay alive.

“You're nothing more but a spineless cockroach, Vincent,” you growled at him when you returned to his home.

For a moment he looked surprised to hear you talk to him like that, but it didn't seem to bother him. If anything, he looked calm and sure of himself, as if he had made the right decision by getting someone to do the job for him. “Darling, you don't seem to understand,” was all he said.

But before he could give you a speech to defend himself, you raised your hand to stop him. “I don't care. I don't want to hear your excuses. I'll be in my room,” you told him before turning on your heels and marching in that direction.

Before you could leave the room, you felt his arm sneak around your waist and pull you against his chest. “Don't go,” he whispered into your ear. “Stay with me until the end.”

Inhaling and exhaling slowly to calm yourself, you thought about what to say. You didn't want to be near him, yet you wanted to be by his side. Your brain and your heart wanted entirely different things, and it confused you. Feeling his body heat made you melt into his arms, but your brain kept reminding you that he was a monster.

“Let go of me,” you told him threateningly, expecting to feel him move away from you. But his grip only tightened, and he rested his chin on top of your head. “Vincent, don't do this. Please,” you said, trying a different approach.

“Stay,” he asked you quietly.

Gulping, you put your hand on his and stayed like that for a minute or two. It was nice to feel this way, knowing he cared so much about you, but this feeling didn't last long because you soon pried his arm off of yourself.

When you turned around to look at him, you were met by his disappointed gaze. “Don't give me this look,” you told him as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

Vincent only watched you in silence, clearly trying to come up with a plan to convince you. But then he nodded and walked away with his phone already in his hand, giving you space as you wished. A part of you, a small, quiet part of you felt disappointed that he left, but once you shook your head and went in the other direction to your room, you felt a lot better.

Just a few more hours and you will be free. You will go back to New York with Winston and John, continuing your life as if this didn't even happen. Sure, Charon's death would always remind you of it, but the pain will fade away with time.

As the day passed by, you eventually crawled out of your room, but Vincent was nowhere to be found. One of his men said he was working, and when he led you to him, you found him standing by a table with an angry look on his face.

“Is everything okay?” you asked cautiously.

He finally noticed you when you spoke up, but he didn't say anything at first. Just when you thought he would shut you out, he reached out to signal you to come closer. With a sigh, you did as he wanted, and once you stopped next to him, he leaned down to kiss you.

You weren't expecting this. It took you by surprise and you wrapped your arms around his neck without realizing you were doing it. “No. No, no, no, stop,” you mumbled once you came to your senses and pushed him away. “What's going on?”

He told you everything. He told you about his plan to get John killed before sunrise. You shouted, you pushed him, you told him what you thought of this stupid idea. It wasn't fair, and you thought he was better than this. He wasn't a good person, but you believed he had standards.

This time he didn't even try to make you stay. He let you leave so he could focus on the ongoing manhunt.

Hours later you went to the location of the duel, patiently waiting for John and Caine to arrive. You and Winston exchanged worried looks when you heard gunfire nearby, only minutes before the deadline. If he didn't make it, you would have to stay here. This wasn't good. No. This was nerve-racking.

But he arrived and you felt like you could finally breathe again. That's until John ended up on the ground, slowly bleeding out. You glanced over at your boss, but the corners of his lips curled into a barely visible smile. Before you could understand what was happening, Vincent jumped up and took the gun from Caine.

Did he really wait until John was vulnerable? This was a low you weren't expecting, but apparently he felt like ending the duel himself. But there was a catch, as Winston was quick to inform him–John hadn't shot in the last round yet.

“I'm giving you a chance here,” John suddenly said. “I let you go if you give us everything we want and promise never to come after us.”

“John,” Winston warned him.

You couldn't decide whether or not it would be a good idea to let him go. After everything he had done, it wasn't guaranteed that he wouldn't go after John anyway.

Vincent looked over at you, and you could see that he was still shocked. “Will you stay with me?” he asked you quietly. “Or at least will you visit me?”

John didn't seem to understand, and even Winston raised an eyebrow. But by now you were quite used to him asking you to stay with him, although this was different. This time it felt like he would rather choose death if you said you wouldn't meet again.

“I won't stay here. But,” you added before he could say anything, “I like this place, so I might come back for a few days. That is if you keep your word.”

He nodded. “All right. Anything you want, my love.”

#vincent de gramont x reader #marquis vincent de gramont x reader #vincent de gramont #marquis vincent de gramont #marquis de gramont x reader #marquis de gramont #john wick chapter 4 #john wick 4

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fatecantstopme · 1 year

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Fake It Til You Make It

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Summary: You’d just broken up with your boyfriend of 2 years after he cheated on you. Chris Evans, your best friend since childhood, suggests pretending to be your boyfriend to get back at your ex. You execute the plan flawlessly, but it has unintended consequences that threaten to change everything.

Warnings: RPF. Cursing. Fluff, angst, SMUT! Oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), dirty talk, over-stimulation.

"There is absolutely no way I'm going to this damn party."

"Aw, come on, (Y/N/N)," Chris chided. "It's Saturday night. What else are you gonna do?"

You sighed. "Sit in my pjs on the couch, watching a serial killer documentary, obviously."

Chris laughed and threw a dish towel at you. "As fantastic as that sounds, you're single now! You have to actually go outside and meet people."

You tossed the towel into the washer and grumbled, "What if I don't want to meet people?"

He rolled his eyes. "If you don't come, then I'll have no one to gossip with."

"As if I'm your only friend."

"You're my best friend, and as such, you have a very special role to fill. It's required."

You groaned, back leaning against the front of the washer. "Chris, I have nothing to wear." He was about to respond, but you continued. "Besides, he'll be there."

Chris's expression changed, anger darkening his features. "Who cares about him? He was never good enough for you anyway."

You crossed your arms over your chest. "You literally introduced us."

He threw up his hands. "Mistakes were made."

"I know it's been a couple months, but it's just...I don't know. I don't wanna see him. Especially if he's with one of the girls he cheated on me with."

"Even if he's there with an entire brothel, you can't let it bother you. You deserve so much more than that."

You sighed. "I know, I know. I just don't wanna go alone."

"You'll be with me!" he insisted.

You laughed. "Not exactly what I meant, Chris."

"Oh. So you'd rather go with some lesser man?" he teased.

"Oh stop," you said with a chuckle. "But seriously, he's gonna be there with a girl and I just don't wanna be the loser ex who shows up without a man on her arm."

"Since when do you care what other people think?"

"I don't...I just--" you sigh. "I wanna make him jealous."

Chris raised his eyebrows. "Well then...I have the perfect plan."

"Oh?"

"We go together."

"Yes, you already said that."

"No, you misunderstand," he said with a quick shake of his head. "You and I go together...make everyone believe we're dating. He'll be out of his mind with jealousy."

Normally you wouldn't have considered his suggestion...the deception just wasn't your style. But your ex had really fucked you over and you couldn't deny that getting back at him was very appealing. Especially using Chris...your ex always thought you and Chris were too close, that something was actually going on between the two of you.

"So we just pretend to be dating to piss him off?" you asked.

Chris nodded.

"Okay," you say. "Against my better judgment, I'm in."

He grinned ear to ear. "I'm brilliant, aren't I?"

You rolled your eyes. "Shut up and help me find something to wear."

He laughed and followed you to your bedroom closet. "There's gotta be something in here you can wear."

Your closet was packed with clothing, but you didn't really see anything that appealed to you. "Nothing looks good."

He rolled his eyes and grabbed a dress off the rack. "How 'bout this one?"

"Too trampy."

"This one?" he asked, pulling out a different dress.

"Too formal."

"Maybe this?"

"Doesn't fit right."

He groaned. "Then why do you have it?"

"Because it's cute and I'll get it altered at some point."

"Women are so weird," he grumbled as he dug through several more dresses before pulling out what he deemed to be the perfect one. "This has to be it."

You cocked your head to the side as you looked at the dress. It was cut just above the knee, jet black, form-fitting, and all around beautiful. Plus it did accentuate all of your assets. "Hmm. That might actually work," you said thoughtfully. "I'll throw it on, you go find shoes that'll go with it."

You walked back into your bedroom to change as Chris dug through your massive shoe collection in an attempt to find the perfect pair.

"Heels, right?" he called.

"Obviously," you yelled back.

"Black?"

"Just pick something sexy, Christopher! We're trying to make someone jealous here."

You heard him laugh and mumble something you couldn't quite make out. You shook your head as you started changing. Chris had been your best friend since you were little kids...you'd known each other so long neither of you actually remembered meeting. Even after he became a famous actor, who he was never changed. He never pulled away from you or made you feel inferior. He never stopped being the person you loved, your best friend in the world, your solid rock. You were more thankful for him than you would ever admit to his face...mostly because he would tease you relentlessly for it for the rest of your lives.

You'd managed to get the dress on, but you needed help with the zipper, so you called for Chris to come help you.

"Whatcha need?"

"Zip this for me?" you asked, turning your back to him.

He froze for a moment, but recovered quickly, thankful you hadn't seen his reaction. He quickly crossed the room and slowly zipped your dress up, trying very hard to not linger against your skin.

"Thanks," you said warmly, completely oblivious to the change in his demeanor. "Did you find a pair of shoes?"

The question brought him back to the present, eyes shifting back towards the closet. "I found two that could work."

You picked one of the pairs of shoes and finished getting ready. Chris needed to change his clothes before heading to the party, so he drove both of you back to his place so you could arrive together. He was quick to change into a laidback black suit with a white button up, top buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up. Even you had to admit he looked damn good.

"Ready, buttercup?" he asked teasingly.

"Oh god, please come up with a different pet name."

He slipped his arm through yours and dragged you towards the door. "How 'bout 'snookums'?"

The look on your face told him exactly what you thought about that particular name.

"Okay, okay. Maybe 'peach'?"

"I'm not a fruit, Christopher."

"Oh come on, that one's sweet!"

"Was that a pun?" you teased.

"Wait, I've got it. Sweets?"

You paused for a moment, mulling it over. "That one can stay."

"Brilliant. But fair warning, I'm totally gonna squeeze a "googely bear" in there at least once."

"Isn't that from Monster's Inc.?"

He grinned. "Yup and I have no shame, smoochie poo."

You groaned. "God, you're the worst."

He gave you the biggest shit-eating-grin you'd ever seen. "You love me and you know it."

You laughed. "Yeah, yeah."

Chris opened the car door for you and helped you into the vehicle. As he was walking around to the other side, you thought about what you were about to do. You knew this could end very badly in more ways than one, but for some reason, you were positive it was worth it.

**********

When you arrived at the party, people immediately took notice that the two of you arrived together. Most people made the obvious assumption: you were best friends and both single...so why not just go together?

But some people's gazes lingered longer, whispers passed amongst each other, the gossip mill already flowing.

"Damn they move quickly," you mumbled.

Chris chuckled. "Welcome to Hollywood."

You knew he wasn't wrong. While you weren't famous, you'd been dating a celebrity for the past two years. Plus, Chris was always dragging you to movie premieres and red carpet events, so people knew who you were by association. As such, you were no stranger to the rumors and the gossipmongers.

Chris spoke softly, leaning into you so only you could hear. "How far do you wanna take this?"

"What do you mean?" you whispered back.

"Do I make out with you in a corner or just hold your hand like high schoolers?"

You laughed lightly. "Let's just play it by ear, you weirdo."

He grinned. "So that's a yes to the make out?"

You smacked his arm affectionately.

"I think that's considered domestic abuse."

You were about to respond to his joke, but a deep voice from behind you sent a chill down your spine, silencing you instantly.

"(Y/N), Evans. Surprised to see you here."

You turned around slowly, Chris directly beside you. "Andrew," you said, trying desperately to sound normal.

"Why so surprised?" Chris asked in his best 'fuck off' voice.

"Well, (Y/N) hasn't exactly been a socialite in the last few months. I assumed she wouldn't want to show up to a party like this."

"I'm literally right here, Andrew," you said, annoyed.

"Yes, I see you, (Y/N)," he replied, turning his attention back to Chris. "How'd she coerce you into bringing her?"

Chris looked surprised, but his expression quickly changed to anger. "She's my best friend. She'd never have to coerce me." He turned to you with a smile. "Besides, we're together now, so you'll see us out together a lot more often."

You returned his smile and stood on your tip toes to place a soft kiss to his lips, which he returned in kind.

You could feel the annoyance and anger rolling off your ex in thick waves. "You were fucking him behind my back weren't you? I fucking knew it, you slut," he hissed.

You felt Chris's body tense and knew he was about to take a swing, so you grabbed his arm and did your best to cut the fight off before it started. "No, Andrew. Unlike you, I know how to keep it in my pants."

A couple people had gathered close to the three of you to eavesdrop on your conversation. Several "Ooo"s and an "oh damn" came from the group.

Andrew's jaw tightened and he clearly wanted to say more, but thought better of it when he noticed the group of onlookers quickly enlarging.

Chris, however, wasn't quite finished with the conversation. He leaned forward, face a mask of unreadable emotion, and said firmly, "If you ever call my girl a slut again, I promise you'll regret it."

Even if you hadn't known the man your entire life, you would have known he was deadly serious. Every single one of his words dripped with animosity and his eyes burned with an intensity you had rarely seen. To your surprise, the way he called you his girl had your body reacting in a way you didn't expect.

You gently pulled on Chris's arm, dragging him with you and away from the conversation, no longer wanting to talk to the man you used to love. "Let it go, Chris," you said softly. "He's not worth it."

"You're right," he murmured, eyes still burning like the sun.

You managed to get him to follow you into another room before turning to him to inspect his expression. He was fiercely protective by nature, but you didn't want him to feel like he needed to protect you. You could still feel the remnants of his temper festering beneath his skin, so you gently pressed your hand to his chest, bringing his attention back to you.

"As much as I appreciate you defending my honor, you don't have to," you said gently.

"Of course I do."

You smiled softly. "You and I both know that's not true, but I appreciate it nonetheless. There's no need to hold onto your anger, though."

He realized you were right, your hand pressed firmly against his chest somehow grounding him. He took a deep breath and placed his hand on top of yours, giving it a little squeeze. "You're right," he admitted. "Thanks for keeping me from punching him right in his smug face."

You chuckled. "As much as I would have loved to see that, I figured it wouldn't be good with so many witnesses."

"Smart," he said with a wink. "Now that we've made it clear we're together, I think we'll need to up our acting a bit...ensure he knows how badly he fucked up by losing you."

"And how exactly do you propose we do that?"

He grinned. "I've got some ideas." He grabbed your hand and started to pull you towards the main room of the party. "Step one, we dance."

You groaned as he dragged you onto the dance floor. "You know I can't dance."

"That's not true. You have excellent rhythm. You just need to get out of your head for a second and let the music guide you."

You stared at him in silence, but finally succumbed to his silent pleas. "Fine. You can put the puppy dog eyes away now," you teased.

He shot you another wink. "Works every time."

"I hate you," you grumbled as you allowed him to pull you closer.

"No you don't." He started to move to the music, hands traveling down to sit on your hips.

Your cheeks burned and your body reacted to his touch in a way it hadn't in a long time. You'd thought those feelings were long-since buried, but the way he was looking at you brought everything you'd ever felt for him back with a vengeance.

"You're right, I don't," you whispered.

"I know, baby girl," he said softly. "Now, dance with me."

You tried to ignore the feeling in your stomach when he called you 'baby girl', choosing instead to focus on the beat of the music. Your hips started to move, his hands helping to guide you in time with his own movements.

"See? I told you you could dance."

The song ended and switched to something a lot more sensual and your body immediately froze. "Not to this I can't," you insisted.

Chris laughed and quickly spun you around before pulling you against his chest. "I'll teach you," he murmured against the skin of your shoulder.

You didn't know if it was the song, his voice, or the way his arms wrapped around you, but your body responded to him instantly. Your breath caught in your chest and wetness pooled between your thighs as Chris moved behind you in a shockingly sexual manner. Your normally stiff body loosened up in his grasp, moving to the rhythm he set.

"Perfect," he whispered breathily.

You moved with him, body acting of its own accord. You looked up, gaze landing on Andrew, who stood fuming on the other side of the room.

Chris seemed to notice him at the same time. "You see how angry he is, sweets?" he said softly.

"Mhmm," you hummed.

"Keep staring directly at him, okay? Keep your eyes on him as you move."

You did as he said, eyes never leaving your ex's, even as Chris's hands began to wander, moving around your body in the way only a lover's would. His lips placed soft kisses to your shoulder, neck, and ear, hot breath leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

You couldn't help the reaction you had to his touch, it was as if your body was no longer your own. It was obvious to anyone who bothered to pay attention that you were aroused, and Andrew was definitely paying attention. You could see his anger from across the room, but more importantly, you could see jealousy in his eyes.

You'd gotten what you wanted. You'd made him jealous. For some reason, however, you couldn't find it in yourself to care. The plan had succeeded, but it had also had unintended consequences. You didn't give a shit about Andrew...all you wanted was Chris.

The only problem was, Chris was an actor. Every single tiny thing he was doing was an act designed specifically to elicit a reaction from Andrew. He didn't want you, he never had. You'd always known that, so you had always been careful to hide your feelings from him, pushing them down so deep inside of you that you'd almost forgotten they'd existed...almost.

With that painful realization, your brain overpowered your body, allowing you to pull away from Chris. You turned to him without making eye contact and mumbled a quick excuse about having to use the restroom before bolting from the dance floor.

Chris was very surprised by your sudden escape and he quickly chased after you, calling your name.

You found the nearest bathroom and rushed into it, slamming the door behind you with force. Your preoccupied mind neglected to remind you to lock the damn door, so Chris came barging through moments later. His brain, on the other hand, appeared to be functioning just fine as he locked the door behind him.

"Why'd you run off?" he asked gently.

You shook your head, eyes looking anywhere but at him. The bathroom was small...there was nowhere to go, no escape. You were trapped in this tiny room with the man you'd loved your entire life and you suddenly felt like you couldn't breathe. The walls began to move in, within moments they would crush you to death and this pain would be over.

In the same way you knew Chris like the back of your hand, he knew you, so he could see the distress you were in. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly, a reminder that he was there. "(Y/N), you need to breathe."

This wasn't the first panic attack he'd witnessed you have, but it had been several years since you'd had one this bad. "(Y/N/N), breathe for me. Come on," he said again, voice gentle but firm. "In, 2, 3, 4. Out, 2, 3, 4."

He continued breathing and counting as you began to breathe with him, heart rate slowly coming back down, body relaxing, his warm hands grounding you to him.

"That's it. Good." He took another deep breath. "I've got you, (Y/N/N). You're okay."

You took a shaky breath and closed your eyes, the panic subsiding. "I'm sorry," you whispered.

"Hey," he said softly, reaching up to tuck a hair behind your ear. "You don't have to apologize. I just wanna know what caused it."

You didn't want to tell him the truth, so you said the first lie you could think of, "Andrew."

He looked taken aback, almost hurt, by your statement. "Andrew?"

You realized that may have been a big mistake, but it was too late now. "Yeah, I just--it's hard to see him."

Chris looked crestfallen. "You still love him, don't you." It was a statement, not a question.

In truth, you didn't love him. Perhaps you never really had, but that didn't matter now. What mattered is whether or not you were going to choose to break your own heart. "Chris, I--"

"Never mind," he said, cutting you off. "I don't wanna know." He spun around and unlocked the door, storming out before you could say another word.

"Chris, wait," you called as you chased after him.

He moved through the crowd quickly, cutting through the throngs of people like he was parting the red sea. He moved so fast that you actually stopped and took off your heels so you could run to catch up with him.

He made it outside before you finally caught up. "Chris, wait! Please!"

He stopped and turned towards you. You caught a glimpse of a mixture of anger and pain etched onto his face for just a split second before an emotionless mask slid into place, his acting instincts taking over. "What, (Y/N)?"

The coldness in his voice stopped you in your tracks. It was almost enough to make you stay silent, maybe even walk away, but you'd made a decision in that bathroom and you'd be damned if you backed out now. "You didn't let me finish."

"Finish?"

"Answering your question."

He couldn't help the look of intrigue that crossed his face even if he'd wanted to. "Go on, then."

"When we were in high school, I--I made a decision--a choice--to protect myself."

"How is this an answer to my question?"

"Would you just shut up and listen to me?" you snapped.

Surprise lit up his handsome face, along with the ghost of a smirk. He always loved it when you stood up for yourself, even if it was against him. "Okay, I'll be quiet."

"Thank you," you exhaled slowly. "I wanted to protect myself from pain, or heartache, or whatever you wanna call it. I pushed every emotion, every feeling, so deep down inside of me that, for a time, I forgot they were there. It was safer that way. I could go on pretending, and we could go on being best friends. It was worth the pain."

You could see the confusion on his face, and realized you needed to be more straightforward. Before you could, he interjected again. "I don't understand. What were you pretending?"

You closed your eyes for a moment, picturing the girl you were at 16 when you realized you were in love with your best friend. You knew it had been the right choice for you at the time, but it hadn't been easy. You opened your eyes again, gaze falling on that same man, now all grown up. You couldn't help the tears that welled in your eyes nor the ache that blossomed in your chest, the years of bottling up your emotions finally taking its toll.

"I pretended I didn't love you, and I've been pretending ever since."

Whatever he thought you were going to say, it sure as hell wasn't that. His jaw went slack and his eyes widened, body completely frozen in place. He recovered quickly, but the shock of your words was still evident on his face. "You--you love me?"

You nodded. "Since I was old enough to understand the concept."

He ran his hand through his hair. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

You were surprised by the annoyance in his voice. "Well, I--I umm...I didn't want to lose you."

He looked exasperated. "(Y/N), you're telling me we could have been together for years, but you didn't want to tell me how you felt because you thought I would leave you?"

You were stunned silent, so he kept going.

"I've had to watch you date so many men that weren't good enough for you--for years--because I thought you didn't feel the way I do. You never once let on that you wanted more--not once."

"So..." you began, trying to find the right words. "Are you saying that you love me too?"

Chris seemed to realize what he'd essentially just admitted, and immediately calmed down, eyes softening significantly. "Yeah, sweets. I've loved you my entire life."

For a moment, the world stood still. The two of you stood there in silence, staring at each other, the shock of your admissions still sinking in.

Then, just as quickly, you both came alive, bodies coming together, lips colliding in a passionate, searing kiss that would live on in your memories forever.

When you separated, breathless, your brain finally caught up with what was happening. You held onto his neck, almost afraid to let go.

As if he sensed what you were thinking, he pulled you even closer. "I'm not going anywhere, baby."

You looked up at him, eyes swimming with emotion that matched his own. "Will you take me home?"

"That depends...whose home are we going to?"

"We?" you asked in a teasing tone. "Isn't that a little presumptuous of you?"

"We just admitted we've been in love with each other since we were kids. I'm pretty sure that means we have a solid 15 years of missed sex to make up for."

You laughed lightly. "As crass as that was, I actually agree with you." You pulled him down for another kiss. "Your place is nicer than mine."

He grinned. "You've got it sweets."

He practically dragged you back to his car, body in overdrive, the need for you so overwhelming he could barely think. Your own desire was so intense you were quite certain you were going to die if he didn't touch you immediately.

Your friendship had always been an open one...which meant both of you had shared your fantasies (most of them, anyway), as well as your sexual escapades. You both knew what the other person liked...so you were both confident the sex you were about to have was going to be mind-blowing...and boy, were you right.

**********

"Chris!" you gasped loudly.

The man in question simply moaned in response, not moving from his position between your thighs, tongue and fingers assaulting your pussy in the most pleasurable way possible.

Your fingers dug into his thick locks, tugging slightly as the pleasure continued to build within you. You weren't surprised by his skill, but you were surprised at how he played your body like an instrument he'd been playing all his life. Every touch, every movement, every sound, sent waves of passionate fire flying through your veins.

When you came for the second time, you tugged at his hair with more force, body squirming from sensitivity. "Too much," you whispered.

Chris finally relented, lifting his head up to look at you, grin etched on his handsome face. His beard was coated with your slick and he licked his lips with a moan. "Sorry, baby. You just taste so damn good."

You laughed lightly, breathing still heavy from the intensity of your orgasms. "If you're a good boy, I'll let you taste me again later," you teased.

Chris laughed and crawled up your body, pressing his lips to yours in an adoring kiss. Whether he intended to or not, as he leaned forward his cock pressed against the entrance to your core, eliciting a gasp from each of you.

"Fuck," Chris groaned. "Baby, I don't think I can wait much longer."

You reached up and pushed his hair back, the tousled locks having fallen onto his forehead. "Who said anything about waiting?"

His lips fell against your neck as he started to push into you. You gasped at the feeling, his large cock already stretching you more than you'd ever been stretched. Your nails dug into his shoulders and he groaned against your skin.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I know it hurts."

"It's fine," you murmured. "Please don't stop."

He raised his head to look into your eyes, worried that you didn't mean it. When he saw no reservations and nothing but lust, he continued to press into you, moving a little more quickly this time.

Once he was fully seated within you, he gave you a moment to acclimate to his size. You swore you could feel him everywhere, every part of your body was completely filled with him. The sensation quickly turned to a burning need and you begged him to fuck you.

"Anything for you, baby girl," he murmured as he began to move.

If his neighbors hadn't already been awoken by the sounds of your moans, they would be now. You'd never felt so good in your life, the way his body meshed with yours was as if they'd been created for this specific purpose.

"That's it, baby. Let me hear those pretty moans."

"Chris--it--it feels so good," you moaned loudly.

He moaned as your pussy clenched around him. "Fuck, sweets. This sweet little pussy was made for me. So tight and warm."

He leaned back, tilting your hips up to give himself a better angle. He began hitting your g-spot with each thrust, and you cried out in pleasure, fingers digging into his biceps. "Chris!"

He placed his hand on your lower belly and pressed gently. "You feel that baby? You feel how deep inside you I am?"

You whimpered in response, voice reduced to nothing but sounds.

"Aww, is my sweet girl too cock drunk to talk?" He began circling your clit with his thumb as he taunted you. "Pretty little thing turned dumb by a big cock."

"Please," you begged, not sure what you were begging for exactly.

Chris smiled, movements never faltering. "Yeah baby? What you begging for?"

You didn't respond--couldn't--whimpering moans and heavy pants all you could manage.

"I know what you need, sweets," he whispered, thumb speeding up against your clit, keeping time with the rhythm of his hips. "You need to come, don't you?"

You nodded vigorously and you dug your nails more deeply into his biceps.

He groaned at the sensation, his own orgasm mere moments away. "Then come for me, pretty girl. Soak my cock."

As if all your body was waiting for was his command, you came with a cry of his name. Your hips jerked up, body spasming beneath him as he helped you ride out your high.

Your pussy was pulsating, clenching and releasing his cock rapidly, quickly pulling him towards the edge. "Fuck, baby, I'm close," he gasped.

He was thrusting more quickly now, chasing his high. He wanted to fill you up, needed it more than he'd ever needed anything.

You knew him better than you knew yourself, so you knew exactly what he needed to get him over the edge. "Chris," you murmured. "I need you to fill me up." You clenched your pussy as tightly as you could to punctuate your words.

Chris came with a shout, hips jerking wildly as he spilled inside of you. "(Y/N)," he gasped, hips faltering, and slowly coming to a stop as he pulled out of you, collapsing beside you with a groan.

"Holy shit," he whispered.

You laughed loudly. "My thoughts exactly."

He grinned. "I always could read your mind."

You turned your head to look at him, taking in his love drunk appearance. Somehow, he was even sexier like this, completely fucked out and satiated. You could have stared at him for hours.

"You're staring. It's kinda creepy," he teased.

You laughed. "Oh shut up. It's not my fault you're so pretty."

He groaned. "Did you just call me pretty?"

"I did and I will not take it back."

He rolled on top of you, covering your body with his. "You better take it back," he warned.

"Or what?" you challenged.

He didn't say a word, choosing instead to kiss your neck, mouth sucking and biting at your most sensitive spot. He knew exactly what it would do to you and he wasn't disappointed.

"Chris," you whispered.

He grinned against your skin, ignoring your warning tone. "Are you gonna take it back?"

"Nope."

He moved with the speed and agility of a panther, settling between your legs before you could even register what was happening. His lips were mere inches from your core, his hot breath making your body shiver.

"What are you doing?"

"Giving you one last chance to take it back."

"And if I don't?"

He grinned like a Cheshire cat. "If you don't, then I'll make you come until you cry. The choice is yours."

Your eyes widened in surprise, and maybe a little bit of desire. You weighed your options, but you were too damn stubborn to take it back. "Try me," you challenged again.

"Oh, baby...you're gonna regret that."

He dove into your pussy with the hunger of a wild animal, completely unleashed, unable to stop himself from enjoying your delicious taste. He didn't stop until he saw tears sliding down your pretty face, and even then, he made you give him one more orgasm.

Once he was done with your 'punishment', he carried you to the shower where he gently washed you before taking you back to his bed and laying you down beneath the covers.

He crawled in beside you and pulled you close, lips pressing soft kisses to any skin he could see.

"Thanks for tonight," you said softly.

"For what?"

"Ya know...for everything."

He understood what you were trying to say, a small smile playing on his lips. "I love you, (Y/N)," he whispered.

Those four words said so much more than just 'I love you'. There were promises, hopes, and dreams all wrapped up in a beautiful bow. There were years of things left unsaid, feelings and emotions hidden beneath the surface. And of course, there was the true meaning of the word 'love', a word neither of you had really understood before this moment.

"I love you too, Chris," you whispered back, your own words laced with the promise of tomorrow and forever.

#chris evans x reader #chris evans x reader smut #chris evans smut #rpf fic #chris evans fic #chris evans x best friend!reader #chris evans RPF

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meowhara · 6 months

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Halloween Special🔮

Mafia!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Bunny Hybrid!Reader

cw : none! cry baby reader ig 😌

author's note : Tbh I almost delete this draft because of how boring it is (at least in my opinion). I got a better story idea midway of writing this but I don't have any time to redo so here you go. Sorry if it's too boring to read :)

"What is Halloween?" You asked as you laid on your stomach on a red fluffy sofa and scrolls through your pink phone (that he just bought for you) in his office.

"Halloween? Oh it's a celebration where you go around the neighborhood wearing stupid costumes and trick or treating people in order to collect candies." He said with a snarl. He couldn't even remember when was the last time he went trick or treating. But he does remember a childhood memory of him and Gabriel, walking in the middle of the night dressing up as Mario and Luigi. The memory of them laughing with mouthful of candies in their mouth.

You gasp, interrupting his train of thought. "I want to wear costumes! I never got to wear one before!" You said as you start skipping excitedly towards his working desk where he is sitting right now. "You? Want to wear costumes?" He look up at you through his lashes as if you just said an utterly stupid idea, not taking his reading glasses off before he continue working on some business paper on his desk.

You nodded, "Please... Pretty please?" Miguel ignores you and continue signing tons of paperworks that he needs to work on. "Is that a yes?" You asked again, hoping that he'll let you dress up for the up coming Halloween which is today. He stood up suddenly and starts walking towards the exit of his office. "Aww Miguel? Please??" You said as you follow behind him.

He kept ignoring you and kept walking towards the front door. "Miguel... Pleaseee? Just let me dress up this one time for Halloween." You kept begging and tugging on his sleeve while looking up at him with the biggest puppy eyes he has ever seen. He stopped in front of the door to put his coat and black frame red lens sunglasses on. Before looking down at you with an annoyed expression, "Lyla, help and make her whatever costume she wants." He said while looking at Lyla who's busy typing on her phone with her back leaning onto the nearest wall.

She rolled her eyes before standing up back straight. "Why me? I'm busy too you know?" She sneered as he looks at Miguel and crossing her arms in front of her chest. But he didn't say anything before walking out the door and driving away with some of his men.

You let out an exited squeak and your small fluffy bunny tail starts to wag in excitement before you turned to look at Lyla with a wide happy smile on your face. She let out a frustrated sigh and rubs her face with her palm before she looks at you, feeling defeated. "Come on you little ball of fur." You happily follows behind her towards the living room.

Miguel is sitting on the back seat of his car as his second man in command drives him to a meeting he needed to attend. "Cancel all the plans I have for this evening." He said while he lit up his cigarette. "Sir, but your schedule are packed today. You have several important meetings to attend to." The man behind the wheel said. "I don't care. I don't want to be interrupted for the rest of my evening." Miguel said after he puffed a cloud full of smoke from his mouth. "Is it because of Y/N?" The driver raised one of his eyebrows at Miguel and looked at him through the rear view mirror. Miguel was caught off guard from the question, he let out an offended scoff. "No. One more word out from your mouth and I'll cut your tongue off." He growls before the driver let out a satisfied chuckle and focus back on the road.

"So what do you want to dress up as, Y/N?" Lyla asked you as she tried to look up for costume references online with her phone. "I want to be umm what's the name of the little girl with red cloak?"

"Red cloak— Little red riding hood?" She said with an eyebrow raised at you. "Yes her! I want to dress up as her. I thought it would fit me." You said with a bright smile. "Why don't you just dress up as a bunny? You have the ears already right? Wouldn't that be easier?" She obviously doesn't want to make anything too complicated since this is not the part of her job, babysitting her boss's little girlfriend? Yeah right.

"But I want to be the little red riding hood..." You pouts, hoping that will make her change her mind. "Ugh fine. You're lucky you're so cute." She pinch your cheek softly before standing up. "Where are you going, Lyla?" You asked, wondering why she stood up suddenly. "You want a costume right? Don't you need some fabric for that?" She said as she walks to the front door and put her black leather jacket and her black motorcycle helmet on. "Right... Can I come with you?" She just sigh, "Y/N, Miguel will chop my head off if I let you out without his supervision. Just stay at home and wait okay?" Your bunny ears fall backwards from disappointment but you nodded anyway.

After she went out to buy some fabric and other things to help you make a costume she then came back to Miguel's masion. You spend the whole day with her making your costume using an old sewing machine she somehow found in Miguel's basement. Lyla made the red cloak and a matching little red riding hood inspired dress. She even bought a small brown basket to match your costume.

Miguel came back home right after you finished making the costumes you wanted. He entered the living room just to find it messy with fabrics everywhere. Lyla rests her head against the sofa's back pillows with her eyes closed. "You need to pay me extra for this you know?" She said still with her eyes closed. "Where is Y/N?" He asked, ignoring what she just said to him. But she just replied back with a shrug.

"Lyla—" He raised his voice before you hugged him from the back. "Miguel! You're back." He turned to look at you and his expression softens instantly. "What are you dressing up as?" He asked as an amused smile appeared across his face. You gave him a quick 360° spin to show your costume off to him. "Little red riding hood! Do you like it?"

The way your red cloak's hood covers your head, leaving your beautiful mostly adorable face for him to look at and the way your bunny ears are hidden by the hood. And how the matching dress Lyla made for you makes you look even more adorable to look at, it does suit you perfectly. His little red riding hood, he thought to himself. Deep down he's in love with how you look but he's too embarrassed to say it. "It looks okay."

You tilt your head to the side and took the hood off, exposing you bunny ears as it straightened back up like usual. "You... Don't like it?" You said with a sad tone which made Miguel regret his answer right away. "No— no. I do like it. You look... Good." Your face lit up right away, "You think so?" He just nodded, worried that another stupid word out of his mouth will make you upset.

You giggles and hug him tight. He got surprised by your sudden hug but he hugs you back any way, as gentle as possible. You then look up at him with the brightest smile that stole his heart every single time he looks at you smiling at him. You pull away before you jump a little to gave him a little kiss on the cheek. His face turned into a redder shade right away from your kiss which makes you giggle even more. Lyla rolled her eyes as she watches her boss getting flustered from a kiss that you just gave him. She cleared her throat to catch your attention, "Don't you have a surprise for Miguel, Y/N?"

"Right! I do have a surprise for you." You said before taking a small pile of clothing that you neatly folded from the living room table. "What is this?" He said before taking it from you. "A costume for you. I thought it might be even better if you dress up with me." He unfolded the clothing, trying to figure out what kind of costume it is. It looks like a pretty long black cape with red fabric in the inner side of the cape. "You want me to wear this?" He asked, unsure whether he wanted to accept your request or not. At the same time he doesn't want to hurt your feelings.

"Yes, it's a vampire costume— I mean cloak. I mean you just need to put that over your suit since your outfit is already kind of... Vampirey enough." You said sheepishly. "No. That's not going to happen." He fold the cloak and offers it back to you. "B— but I worked hard to make that cape for you... Please just wear it." You begs, trying to make him change his mind.

"Don't be such an asshole boss. She made it for you, at least wear it for her." Lyla jumped into the conversation because she feels bad if Miguel just turned down your hard work just like that. He look at you for a while before letting out a long and tired exhale, "Fine. I'll wear it. But just for today." Your face lit up once again as he wears the cape. "You know what will make the costume look better, Y/N? Fake fangs." She teased.

Instead, you took her teasing seriously and starts dragging Miguel with you towards his bedroom where you make him sat down in front of the mirror to put fake fangs on him. "Is this really necessary?" He pouts likes a child. "Mhm it is. It's Halloween after all." You said while you put the fangs on him without him complaining at all, different from usual. "I regret telling you anything about Halloween." He mumbles before checking himself on the mirror and taking a look at the fake fangs.

"So, what do you think?" Your eyes are focused on his reflection on the mirror. But he didn't answer, he just stares at you from the mirror. "Miguel, are you okay? Are you mad at me?" He starts walking towards you slowly with his brows knitted together, angry. "M— Miguel? What's wrong?" You backs away from him, you can feel fear surging through you veins from how different he acts all of the sudden.

The back of your legs are now pressed against the bed, leaving you no more room to escape. His eyes are looking down at you like a predator looking at it's prey. Now you know how much fear the little red riding hood must felt when she met the wolf in disguise. You can hear your own heartbeat in your ears from how scared you felt at the moment. Your bunny ears fall backwards when you're feeling scared or nervous and you can feel your legs shaking in fear.

Miguel pounce at you, tackled you off your feet before your back landed on the bed. You screamed and put your hands in front of your face for protection. But to your surprise Miguel let out a laugh, "Can't believe you fall for that, little one." He said before smothering your face with kisses. "W—what?" You look up at him with fear, tears blurring your vision. "I was just messing with you. No need to get so worked up over it." He teased as he starts kissing your neck and nibbles on it gently.

"Why would you do that for?" You can't stop yourself from crying, some tears fell from your eyes before you wiped it all away. "Aww don't cry. Why are you crying?" He teases even more and move aside so you can get back up on your feet. You know how much of a tease he is when you two are in private, especially when he's in a very good mood. "You scared me." You said as you sat back up angrily before looking away from him.

He smirked and gave you a soft kiss on the forehead, "My bad, little one. Come on don't be mad, I was just toying with you." You look away from him with your hands crossed in front of your chest to show that you're mad at his joke. "Little one? Please talk to me. I'm sorry okay? I mean it." He motions your head to face him with his hand before caressing your chin with his thumb while looking at you with an apologetic expression. An idea came up in your head before your face softens a little, "I'll forgive you if you let me go trick or treating tonight." You said with a smirk, challenging him.

"Oh getting smarter aren't you. I like that. But no trick or treating. You know how dangerous it is at this hour, little one."

"Why? Everybody went outside already! I don't want to miss anything." You said with a small pout. "By me letting you dress up and even let myself dress up because you asked me to is a miracle itself, trust me."

"You're lame." You grumbled under your breath. "Care to repeat that? I don't think you're loud enough the first time you said it."

You ignore him and it's getting on his nerves but he's trying to keep himself calm for your sake. "It's getting late. Let's go downstairs and eat dinner."

Throughout the dinner you're awfully quiet and kept playing with your food, not eating any of it. He understood by now how pissed you are just because he didn't let you to go out. He didn't allowed you to do one thing that everybody does on Halloween and it's pissing you off, horribly. "Y/N, please just eat your food. I got you your favorite carrot, the freshest even. I know you're upset but you can't starve yourself like this." He said, trying to make you understand the situation better. "Look I know how pissed off you are by how I'm being overprotective. But you need to understand that this is for your own good." He kept trying to persuade you with his words. But you're too angry to listen. "You're just being selfish." You hissed at him, making his heart break.

He tried to think of a way to make you at least a little bit happier. He called one of his men to prepare something for you in order to make it up to you. "Look I know I can't let you out to go trick or treating. But I prepared a batch of candies outside my door so kids can take those. So, you won't missed out anything since you can still watch people coming by from inside the house. You can even greet them yourself if you want." He said with so much warmth in his voice. You stood up quicker than the speed of light, "Really? I can do that?!" He nods before you jumped at him to give him a big hug. "Thank you thank you thank you!"

"In one condition. You need to finish your dinner first." You nodded before eating your dinner as fast as you can before you rush towards the front door and sat by the window, waiting for anyone to come up to take candies from the big container full of candies.

Miguel just smiled as he watches you from the living room, your bunny tail waging in excitement. He's happy that you're happy and that's what matters the most for him. Paperworks waited for him upstairs so he went back inside his office to work while you're still sitting near the window with his sidekicks watching over you for him.

Hours has passed and he's still up in his office, busy until he heard a knock on his door. "Come in." Eyes still glued to his work, one of his sidekick enters his office. "Sir, it's Y/N. She's umm how do I explain this? She's been very quiet for the past hour and her ears— it's not standing up. You know what I mean?" He sigh before looking up from his paperwork to his sidekick. "Is she asleep?" He asked, tiredness filled his voice. "No I think she's crying..." Miguel rubs his eyes with his palms before rushing out from his office, "Oh for fuck's sake."

"Sir, don't you want to take that ridiculous costume off." His sidekick complaints, tugging on his vampire cloak that you made just for him. "Touch it one more time and I'll break your hands myself." He growls before his sidekick raised his hands up, off of the cape. "Sorry."

Miguel saw you weeping on the floor, still with your little red riding hood costume on. "Hey, little one. What's wrong?" He crouched down beside you just to find your face wet from tears. "I waited and waited for hours but nobody came... Why didn't they show up?"

Miguel didn't think about the fact that his mansion is just too scary for any kids— anyone to walk to his door and take some candies. "Look, maybe they didn't know there are candies there. We can try again next year okay?" He patted your back as an attempt to calm you down. "Is it my outfit? Did they not like my outfit?" You asked in between sobs, you couldn't believe all that hardwork you spend on making costumes are wasted just like that. "Of course not. You look gorgeous! Next year I promise we'll go out together on Halloween okay? So you can go trick or treating." You wipe your tears away and look up at him, "Promise?"

"Promise." He said before he pulls you into a hug. The hug lasted for quite a while before you let out a loud yawn. He laughs before pulling away from the hug, "Let's go to bed, little one. You look sleepy." He helps you to get back on your feet. "Don't people watch scary movies on Halloween? I haven't done that yet." You mumbles as you rub your eyes with the back of your hands. Miguel look up at his watch, the time is currently showing 11 PM. "It's past your bedtime and besides you wouldn't even last a second watching a horror movie."

"Just one movie... I promise I'll go to sleep right away." He never wanted you to stay too long after your bedtime but he let it slide this time. "One movie okay? Then you'll go to bed right away." You smile happily before you two made your way towards the living room then sat down on the sofa.

He turn the TV on, "What do you want to watch?" He asked as he sat down beside you, you're sitting down comfortably leaning over his massive build. "I want to watch horror movies!" He can tell just by how exited you are that you never watched any horror movie before. He shook his head with a smile before he picked any random movie for you to watch. His arms found it's way around your shoulder, pulling your body closer to his.

Five minutes into the movie and you're fast asleep, snoring softly with your ears falling to the side. He smiles to himself again before carrying you upstairs like a baby. He then put you down on his bed, he doesn't even bother to take your costume off since he know how much you like wearing it.

He planted a light kiss on your forehead, "Good night, my little red riding hood."

#hybrid reader #mafia fanfic #yandere miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #yandere mafia #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #mafia au #halloween #halloween special #yandere #yandere miguel x reader

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winterarmyy · 9 months

Text

Promise Me | Part I

When he was sent out for war, Bucky made a promise to his lover that might just last through several lifetimes.

Summary: Y/N kept being reincarnated into the world for seemingly endless of lifetimes with the lasting, vivid memories of her past lover during the 40's, Sargent James B. Barnes. While she thought this was a 'punishment' for her sins, she was also unknowingly oblivious to the fact that James was still alive somewhere, almost forever frozen in the time.

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)

Words: 6.5k++ (hella long bc lots to cover in the story building part)

Pairing: 40s!bucky / eventually tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: just slow induced angst for your daily consumption (i guess?) It has a hopeful ending so don't let the first warning chase you away. reincarnation concept. an attempt to follow exact mcu timeline (forgive if i'm wrong at certain parts). slight religious contents. grief & loss. graphic violence. deaths. mention of suicide. a lot of reader's pov, story building > dialogs (sorry guys).

P/S: Another impulsive writing from me y'all. I hope you don't get bored of this tendency of mine lol. I just need to let the fantasies out before it consumes me. So... anyway, it's gonna be another 3 parts fic cause for the love of god, I cannot commit for more :') Also, my first attempt of writing 40's bucky!!! I'm honestly scared. I hope you like it!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Italy, 1943 – His return

If it was one thing that Bucky should expect when he decided to be in a relationship with Y/N was that he had to accept her for who she was; stubborn, clumsy, bold, clever, sweet and most certainly the prettiest dame he ever met.

He might have unknowingly signed up for it the moment he quite literally fell for her at one of those Stark's science expo. Bucky had been stealing glances at this one pretty lady in the crowd, adored in soft mint dress that falls right below her knees.

It wasn't even a scandalous dress to wear in public but somehow Bucky was more than ecstatic to marvel at her beauty. There was no such thing as a too long of a stare, especially when she laughed like that; throwing her head in amusement, the loose strands of her curls fall back across her shoulders as they slightly shook to the rhythm of her laughter.

A careless misstep, that Bucky could see from a mile away, had caused her to stagger backwards and twisted her ankle into an inevitable fall. Somehow, Bucky managed to slither his way through the crowd towards her, almost jumping forward to catch her before she landed on the ground.

Not only that he was the one who fell first, but he also fell hard.

So, it was expected that Bucky knew what he had got himself into. At least, that was what Y/N had been repeating in her head to convince herself for what she had done. Now that she was sitting at the back of the wobbly military truck, the fear had slowly started to seep into her, causing shivers to crawl all over her nerves.

Y/N just knew it in her guts that Bucky would be absolutely furious when he sees her but what does he expect her to do when she hadn't receive any letters from him for months now. So, when she heard that they needed more medical helpers at the Italy base, she signed up without thinking twice about it.

"There has been a recent attack on the 107th. Too many casualties and much more whose heavily injured. You might have your hands full the moment you arrive to the base. There are few rules..." The lieutenant's voice was rigid just as his demenour when he continued to inform the situation to the troops of medical staff.

No matter how much she wanted to pay attention to his words, Y/N couldn't help but to tune in only at his first few sentences. Casualties, heavily injured. Her hands moved to search for the cross pendent hanging from the necklace around her collarbone, gripping it tight as she prayed that her lover was not categorized under any of those dire circumstances.

What the lieutenant said in that truck could never be more true as the moment they stepped into the medic tent, Y/N and the others were quickly pulled to assist the fallen men. It was truly heartbreaking and horrid to witness the dreading truth behind what the public posed as the "heros of the country'.

Surely they were proud to fight for the nation but then again no human being should ever had to suffer the consequences of war; not the civilians and certainly not the soldiers.

After seemingly hours of continuous stitching, wrapping and patching up; surrounded sound of groaning pain and the endless cycle of inhaling the distinct scent of fresh blood, burned flesh and the bitter of anticeptic odor; the injured soldiers were finally taken care of and had been put to rest.

Y/N looked around the tent, noting the unorganized mess around the patients; the result of the panic and chaos of the whole situation. A thought came to her mind, she might need to do some cleaning up before writing down medical record for each one of the patients.

That was when the lieutenant entered into the tent, and his stern gaze swiftly analyzed the much calmer scene, "Thank you for your service, everybody. I assume the soldiers are stabilized?"

"Yes, sir." One of the battalion doctor replied as he approached, while the rest of the team watched from where they stood.

The lieutenant simply nodded, "Good." He paused for awhile and looked around, "Now, have any of you met Captain America before?"

There were bunch of no's murmured around the medical staff, some of them just shook their head as an answer and the lieutenant nodded again as he informed, "Well, I guess you are all just darn lucky cause he's here to perform. You are invited to come and join the others to watch, if you want to."

"Steve's here?" She thought to herself.

As the lieutenant continued to explain some things about accommodation, food and medical supplies, Y/N's head were filled with thought that her dear friend, Steve was there too.

"I wonder if he gotten any words from James."

"Maybe he got letters from him?"

"Or could it be that he was here to find James too?

There were so many questions kept circulating in her head that by the time she snapped out of them, the lieutenant was already long gone and some of the medic staff went out to untangle themselves from the hours of stressful tension.

As a nurse herself, she felt the need to take care of her patients and finish her job before anything else. So, she started to clean up the shredded clothes, bloodied guazes and the other medical tools that needed to be sterilized and put away.

By the time she finished, it finally dawned to her that there was no trace of Bucky in the medic tent. Which means he didn't fall into the heavily injured category. So, there was two left; the one she prayed for and the other that dreaded her to even think about.

Y/N quickly made her way towards the tent where she can find the soldier in charge. However, if she was focused during one of the lieutenant's speech in the truck, she would've heard that she and the others were not authorized to enter certain parts of the base, which include the higher ups' tents.

When she was turned down by the soldiers, she sadly walked away towards the main area where Steve was supposed to perform. The drag of her feet across the dusty sand was heavy but no more heavier than the burden in her heart.

She watched as her black pump shoes gradually covered with light sand. Finding it odd that a few weeks ago she was standing on the shiny tile of a hospital in Brooklyn and now she was halfway across the world in the middle of the chaos of a war.

The things she'd do for love.

Soon enough, the dry ground was wet from the sudden down pour, turning it into a murky soggy path. Y/N quickly ran towards the main area where apparently the show was long over. "Did I missed Steve?" She thought as she stepped into the tent where the performers supposed to be.

The tent turned out to be empty and only the sound of drizzling raindrops above it was left behind. She looked around the area and saw the costumes for the performers were still there; the pleated white and red skirt hanging on the rack, white gloves clipped with them, the captain's shield with notes sticking at the back of it and the iconic blue helmet-mask thingy plastered with the obvious letter.

She peeked a little to the right only to see Steve hunched down on the floor, curling into himself just as he always did back when he was left beaten up in the alleyway somewhere in Brooklyn. She guessed that the upgrade of his size doesn't really change his habits.

Y/N walked closer to see him holding his sketchbook on one hand and another was a pencil pressing across the paper, lining the drawing of a monkey on a unicycle. "I guess the serum does not amplify your art skills huh Steve?" she teased as she approached the blonde man.

Steve lifted up his head as he turned towards the familiar voice, "y/n?" His face lit up as he recognized her face. He stood on his feet and pulled her into a tight hug, "It's so good to see you." He sighed, he haven't seen her since his departure when she insisted for him to stay.

But alas, Steve was also as stubborn as her.

It took awhile for him to process it but when it came to him, he gently pushed her away, "Wait.. what are you doing here?" His brows creased into a worried frown.

Y/N simply smiled as she responded, "They needed help, so I volueentered."

Steve shook his head in disbelief, "Bucky made me promise not to let you do stuff like this." In which Y/N countered, "And he also remind you not to do anything stupid until he get back so..." she purposely trailed her words for him to draw the conclusion on his own.

He let out a long sighed before concluding, "Bucky's gonna kill us."

Since, Bucky was in the topic, Y/N took the oppurtunity to asked Steve about him, "About that, have you heard--"

A woman's voice came from her back, cutting in between her words, "Steve?"

Steve nervously untangled himself from Y/N as he shyly greeted the woman, "Hi."

The woman continued to stare at Y/N trying to figure out her role and relationship with Steve but before she could get any strange idea, he quickly introduced her, "This is y/n. She's my good friend from home."

A spark of realization glint through her eyes "I see. I'm Peggy. Nice to meet you." She extended her hand towards Y/N, in which Y/N gladly shook it in hers as she reintroduced herself, "You too. I'm y/n."

After the brief exchange of smile between the two ladies, Steve continued to asked Peggy, "What are you doing here?"

Peggy sighed as she explained, "Officially, I'm not here at all." She paused as she picked her words, "I just came by to oversee the situation after the recent attack."

Although Y/N knew what Peggy meant, she was one of the medic staff that had been stitching up the aftermath of that attack after all. However, Steve on the other hand seemed to be lost.

Peggy further explained, "Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano, more than 200 men went up against him and less than 50 returned." She paused, "Your audience contained what's left of the 107th."

Steve's blues widen in realization that almost looked much like panic, "The 107th?"

"What?" Peggy prompt quickly.

Steve then turned his head to Y/N, "Bucky?" He questioned shortly.

But even she was hoping that he'll know something about Bucky, apparently she was wrong, "I tried to ask but I'm not authorized to enter the tent. I was hoping you heard from him."

Seeing the panic in Steve's eyes, she knew that her lover was no where near the safety that she prayed for. But before fear could set in, Steve sprinted out of the tent, "Come on!" he shouted as Y/N and Peggy ran closely behind him.

When they arrived to the tent, fortunately they had the permission to enter with the help of Peggy. "Well, if it isn't the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan. What is your plan today?" Colonel Philips greeted in a teasing manner.

Steve didn't even bother to greet the colonel as he demanded, "I need the casualty list from Azzano." In which the Philips responded, "You don't get to give me orders, son."

Knowing that arguments won't help the situation, he control his tone of voice and spoke, "I just need one name, Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th." He took a short breath and insisted, "Please tell me if he's alive, sir. B-A-R-"

Colonel Phillips stood on his feet as he walked towards a table behind him, "I can spell. I have signed more of these condolence letters today than I would care to count." He paused before turning around to eye on Steve and briefly on the very worried looking nurse next to him.

"But the name does sound familiar. I'm sorry." There was a flash of sincerity in his eyes when he looked towards Y/N.

The optimistic Steve continued to insist more about other possibilities than casualties, "What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?" They went back and forth about the what is the 'right' thing to do, "Yes, it's called 'winning the war'. "

And suddenly sound of the heavy rain fall was all Y/N could hear, then comes the booming of her heartbeat as the panic started to deprive her of any optimism, clouding her judgment to think of anything near to positive outcomes such as Steve.

It was getting harder to breath and the anxitey slowly choked her, forcing tears to pool in her eyes. Peggy swiftly took a hold on Y/N, before her knees managed to fall to the ground. The muffled sound of Peggy's voice managed to come through but not enough to wake her from the despair.

Before she knew it, Steve was already gone for an unauthorized rescue mission with the help from Peggy. And ever since, Y/N had spend every waking moment digging her knees into the uneven ground. Her elbows bruised from how hard she propped them on the steel edge of the army green cot. Her palms almost dented to shape of the silver cross as she desperately squeeze it between her hold.

She prayed and prayed for his return. For both of her dearest to be safe, to find their way home.

And for a moment Y/N thought her prayers were graciously granted by God, as the crowd was getter louder and the circle of soldiers were geting thicker when the survivors joined the rest of them. There were chantings of "Captain America" that echoed throughout the base and that gave her relief to know that Steve was safe.

But it was not enough to tame her anxiousness. Y/N's focus has never been sharper when her eyes scanned the crowd, she slithered her way between the jumping joy of the soldiers, grabbing onto some men who she mistook as Bucky until she saw him.

Her heartbeat ramped increasingly as she pushed through the soldiers, finding strength from the blood pumping excitement when she recognize those steel blues and that cheeky smile. Not long before she managed to grab onto his hand and pulled his attention to her.

It was brief but he knew that face anywhere; and suddenly his whole body was engulf into a familiar tight hug that he thought he could never be able to feel again. "James." her voice still stuttered even if it was just one word that came out of her lips.

"y/n?" Bucky called her name, almost in disbelief.

God, she never knew that she was able to miss his voice this much.

"Doll, what you doing here?" He gently lead her away, which she reluctantly followed, "I'm here for you." There was no need of lies now that Bucky was here in her arms.

His gaze soften with a mix of concern and joy, "What do you mean you're here for me?" Bucky couldn't help but to let out a short laugh, "Sweetheart, you do realized that you're in the middle of a war?" His brows quirked as he reminded.

Y/N rolled her eyes. Of course, she realized that. The moment she saw that form for enlistment, she knew. But, it didn't stop her to sign up, does it?

She laced her fingers into his, "I didn't come all the way here to fight with you, James." she whispered as she leaned closer, "So, please just shut up and kiss me."

Bucky might have just realized it now; what a stubborn, demanding, crazy little lover got himself. Though at the same time, she had never charmed him more.

Bucky sighed in defeat before running his tongue on his lower lip, "Well then, come here you little minx" he took her by the head and gave her the most desperate yet sweetest kiss she could never forget.

Brooklyn, 1944 – Promises, promises

It was the day that Steve, Bucky and the rest of the Howling Commandos were depolying to the Austrian Alps for one of the biggest mission since Captain's impulsive rescue mission in Italy last year.

Apparently, Zola was on the move and predicted to be passing though the location while travelling on a train.

This wasn't the first time she had sent Bucky away, but the fear of each always felt like it was her first; especially when she thought about the promise of death that's chained to a soldier's fate.

The closer the time of departure, the stronger her grip on Bucky's uniform becomes. And Bucky didn't need to say anything because he knows her too well; she won't take any of his sweet words as a cure for her distress.

Bucky slowly swayed her from side to side as their embrace tightens with need; her face hidden in the crook of his neck while his arms secured around her waist. He had to smile as it reminded him of their late night dance, barefoot on the kitchen floor of his apartment.

He could feel the teasing gaze coming from his back as well as the whistles of the Howling Commandos playfully making fun of him. Bucky was also well aware of the fact that everyone had made theirs bets on when will the Sargent James B. Barnes finally get down on his knees for his little nightingale of a nurse.

Unsurprisingly, Steve might just win the bet afterall. That punk just had know everything about him.

Y/N closer snuggled into him one last time, "Come home to me, James." She whispered against his skin before pulling away. Teary eyes threatened to spill its salty liquid as she looked up at him, "Promise me."

Bucky's charming smile lighten his features as he leaned to press a kiss in her forehead, "I promise."

Brooklyn, 1945 – Loved and lost

Months gone by, entered the new year, and it always felt like eternity for Y/N. She spent nights kneeling next to her bed and days on the church's floor; practically begging to God for the life of her lover, for keeping him away from death.

And the letters from Bucky also come and goes within those few months' time, with his promises of coming home that's laced in the words of his longing and love for her.

But, little did she knew, that promise met it's end of the bargain when the dreaded letter came to her hands. It came from the man she met back in Italy base, Colonel Phillips, sending the words of condolences for the death Sargent James B. Barnes during his honourable mission at the Austrian Alps.

But the first time she read to words, it didn't even register in her head. It was as if her brain failed to translate the message for her to understand. Y/N had been re-reading the same lines over and over and over until it finally clicked.

The usually bright eyes of hers were now slowly filled with tears, she was in the state of shock; that even if her brain knew exactly what had happened but her heart wasn't ready for it.

The tears started to fall down onto the letter. Drip by drip. And all of the sudden she lost every word that she could ever think of. Her silent scream; suffocating her with each breath she took desperately gripping onto the fragile piece of paper, holding it to her chest hold as if that would help to ease the pain in her heart.

Y/N could feel it in her ripping guts. How all the threads of every joyful memories she could ever once recall; they unraveled in a way that broke her to pieces until they were all but a rumpled of strings scattered about her feet.

A sharp fall had forced Y/N down to her knees, skin digging into the hard floor as her hands trembled silently, clutching onto the letter.

At first when she opened her mouth, there was not a single sound came out as her breath ripped from her lungs. Each left her with scars of loss and every waking minute in this reality was just pure pain.

Her body bend forward until her forehead meets the floor, that was when she wailed; an agonizing scream that left a haunting memory to the neighbours around her apartment.

She cried like there was too much raw pain inside that she could never contained. She cried like her soul needed to break loose from her skin, desperate to release a loathful rage on the world.

But it was more than just crying, it was the sobbing of a woman that drained of all hope. She sank on floor, willing herself to be swallowed by the dread and loss. Just screaming out the agonies that been dancing across her vulnerable veins.

Her chest violently quivered as she was desperately trying to catch the air. She collected every last energy that she had to call out the name of the lover she had loss, "James.." Her gasping breath whispered against the floor, "You promised."

A month later the nation celebrate to the announcement to the end of a war, but to Y/N it was just another wave of mourning grief to a loss of another precious person in her life; Steve.

Amidst the loud sound of cheering and laughter, she rushed away from the crowd to the place that she had put all her faith into. Stumbling through the empty church and falling at the feet of Jesus' statue, Y/N looked up at the face if God with loath, rage, despair, and tears.

The night was brighten to the flashing light from the firework but all she could think of was how similar the sound of it to a firing canon in the war. And the thought of Bucky and Steve run through her mind.

She had been nothing but faithful to the lord, religiously prayed for no more than saving the life of people she held dear to her heart.

But, God thought it would be merciful to let them die.

Y/N harshly ripped the cross necklace from her neck, tearing her skin apart in the process. She gripped on the cross in her hands, much like she would few month back but for completely different reason.

The crimson of her blood tainted her white collar of her nurse uniform as she she cursed the all mighty God for what he had done. Ever since, she swore to herself to never be naive to the illusion of God's mercy ever again.

Washington D.C., 2014 – An old friend

Fate is full with irony and God has his way of twisting them for his own pleasure.

When Y/N died in the 60's, old and unmarried, even if she doesn't believe in God anymore, her dying wish was to be able to meet her lover and friend again.

At least one more time.

But lo and be hold, God had different plans for her. Y/N's body did die that night on the hospital bed but her soul never did. It was as if she was woken up from sleep in another body with the same face as her, that's when she realized she has been reincarnated.

Apparently, she was only born in the same family lineage as her original life; whether coming from her younger brother or cousin or anyone related back to her bloodline. And sharing even the tiniest amount of blood of her own, triggers every single memory from her previous life.

This wasn't what she wanted.

She didn't want to live knowing she cannot be with Bucky.

So on the 2nd life, she did the unthinkable. She took her own life, thinking that she would finally leave the world behind but she didn't.

It happened again.

And again.

So, when she reached her 6th life, she realized that she will never able to meet James and Steve ever again; that was when she went rogue.

Her 6th life was filled with rage and vengeance that she took the idea of life very lightly. So, instead of living until the old days, she searched for revenge and got herself tragically killed in the process.

Now, the 18 year old Y/N was in her 7th life, with a new name that was given by her 7th parents, "Evelyn" , and the spitting image of her 1st life. From her dark raven hair to the light brown of her eyes. This time, she decided to try to accept the cruel fate; the cursed that God had placed on her for the sin that she made decades ago.

Y/N walked around the Smithsomian Museum, specifically at the American history section where they put up Captain America's exhibit. It's been how many lifetimes since she surround herself with knowledge of a past that she once lived.

This was the first time, since her first life. And most probably the last time since she was going overseas in a week to continue her studies in Asia.

She walked along the line up display of the Howling Commandos suits, remembering the living flesh of them as she took steps forward to each, stopping in front of Bucky's.

Flashes of him appeared to where the figure stood; the memories was so vivid that she could still feel fabric of his suit against her, the electrifying feeling on his skin on her own.

She ripped her gaze away just to be greeted by the portrait of Bucky, plastered so hugely on the memorial of one of the Howling Commandos section. Despite the cracking of her heart, her body move on its own; as they knew that deep down, Y/N's heart will always be yearning for her lover.

Her gaze soften with longing and nostalgic as she slowly blink at his features. His considerably messy hair, that little frown that he does to act mysterious for the ladies, and the thin layer of beard that she loved to leave her lipstick marks on.

Y/N's daydream were cut short when someone pulled her by the arm, startling her into a defensive mode. Her 6th life's habit almost broke through when she nearly flipped the man on the floor but thankfully she stopped herself as she recognized those blue eyes.

The man's face looked pale like he had seen a ghost, as he uttered a name that she haven't heard for decades, "y/n?"

"Steve..." she called his name wordlessly.

She knew he was alive. Everybody does, when the news came out in 2011, she was merely a 15 year old kid back then. Apparently, the super soldier serum helped him to survive the ice.

She remembered how her parents rushed to her room when they heard the sudden cluttering sounds of panic upstairs, only to find their daughter on the floor looking pale while her cup of iced coffee spilling in all over her study desk as the viral youtube video of Captain America running through New York city barefoot.

She remembered the feeling of both disbelief and joy that rushed through body as her parents helped her to sit up on her bed. The moment that it sunk into her head, she began to cry. Streams of joyful tears broke from her shaky body, each drop washed the painful burden in her heart as her parents lulled her to sleep.

Y/N never made an effort to meet him after knowing truth because who would've believe her words?

She wasn't Steve. There wasn't any super soldier serum in her blood. There wasn't any tank of chemical that drown her with power.

She was cursed and now she had to live with it.

Meanwhile, Steve seemed to be trapped in a spiralling confusion of his own. He examined each of her features and he had not a single doubt that she has the same face to an old friend in the 40's.

The same friend that he knew died of old age in the 60's.

But, how come the person managed to have the exact same face to hers. Now that he looked closer, she was younger than the last time he saw Y/N. She looked like she was in her teens, "Are you really y/n?" His voice was soft as he muttered.

Y/N bit the insides of her cheeks, holding back the urge of telling him the truth, "Sorry, I think you got the wrong person." she tried to untangle his grasp around the thin of her arm.

Even her voice was similar to Y/N, and she was looking at Bucky's photo like she knew him.

How could she say that she's was not Y/N?

Steve reluctantly let go of her arms and took a step away after seeing the distress on her face, "I-I'm sorry. You remind me of someone I know." He couldn't take his eyes off her.

She was just too similar looking to someone precious that he left behind.

"It's okay, sir." She smiled gently, like the way she usually does when Steve apologizes for his impulsiveness of picking a fight in alleyways. She looked up to the taller man as she continued, "Thank you for being alive..." she hesitated to call him by his name so instead she called for his other name, "...Captain."

She thanked him sincerely before walking away, leaving Steve to reminisce the memories of his life with Y/N and Bucky as he stared at Bucky's memorial.

The next week, she left the United States for Asia where she planned to spend 4 years studying at the National University of Singapore, leaving her past behind in hopes of moving forward with her life, refusing to care about the avengers shenanigans anymore, including her dear friend, Steve.

New York, 2018 – New norms

When half of the population was wiped out from the earth, two of them was Y/N's parents. And like every other people who had lost their loved ones during the blip, her parents sudden absence truly take a toll on her, especially when she was planning to live a long life with them.

After graduating and getting a decent job in Singapore, she was forced to go back to New York when it happened. Y/N couldn't just let her childhood house left abandoned, she simply can't let that happen.

You would thought a person who had multiple lifetimes would be used to losing someone they love but no. It only gets worst as the years go by.

The more Y/N tried to fit into the new norms, the more that she could feel herself slipping into old habits of her 6th life.

Until that one drunken night when she visited the Smithsomian Museum again after years of forcing herself to forget about him; it took her one look at the potrait of Bucky, she knew what she had to do.

Germany, 2023 – An old nemesis

Nearly 5 years into the blip and Y/N was already becoming a legend in the underground scene. They called her the Deathstalker. She never really knew the origin of it but nevertheless she chooses to stick with the newly founded identity.

With the skills she picked up on her 6th life, she easily became the most deadly assassin in the business, seemingly in a constant competition of reputation with the highly popular, black widow assassins.

Though she couldn't care less about who was winning the battle, she only cares about tracking anything or anyone related to Hydra.

After that fateful night at the museum, she couldn't to think that this must be her calling.

If the curse made her technically immortal, then why not became the hunter destined to slay the monster. They said that Hydra will never die, but so was she. And if anything good came out from this curse, then she might as well use it to avenge Bucky.

And bring the old nemesis to the ground.

Her 6th life was similar to this but she wasn't going to make the same mistake. The flaming greed to have her revenge was too strong back then, it lead her to be hasty and clumsy, which then let her to an early death.

But, she's grown out of those immaturity.

Nowadays, she takes her time and still get the job done flawlessly. Just like she is now, when the soft but dark sound of her chuckle, interrupted the silence that had claimed the room.

The poor man was sitting limp on the chair with his body tied with it. He had been like this for seemingly hours with a knife in one of his thighs, which trembled with the vibrations of his body.

More so, when Y/N twisted them, causing a keen of pain to clawed up his throat and spilled out a hoarse groan.

"Where is it?" Her fingers wrapped around the handle, as she watched the man tossed his head, more with fear than trying to answer.

"I don't like to repeat myself." Y/N slid the blade free, causing a noise he would not forget. The man sagged against his bonds, panting as he watched the blood surged and dribbled out of the wound.

But then he felt the prick against his other leg, wide eyes turning to watch as the knife was held above his skin, Y/N's hand flat against the top, ready to push in. "Where the fuck is it?" her tone was eerie as the voice changer in her mask produced an emotionless robotic effect on it.

"I don't know what you're talking about." The thick german accent seethed through his voice as he grunted in pain.

There was only boredom in Y/N's eyes as she gazes straight into his. A stab of the knife went through his thigh without a warning, until the tip of it almost met the flat surface of the chair beneath it.

The whole room echoed with the sound of the whimpering and cries of his struggle, "Please, I swear to God I don't know what you're talking about." He pleaded as fast as he can, when he felt the shortage of breaths in his lungs due to dealing with the excruciating pain.

"Playing dumb isn't going to help you, mutt." She twisted the knife, pulled out and stabbed it again causing him to fall into an almost delirious state, "Please, please please, I swear I don't know anything about the serum." He blurted out of misery.

There it was.

The thing she wanted to hear.

Y/N's eyebrow quirked in interest, "I never mentioned the serum in our conversation, no?"

He fucked up.

He knew that he fucked up.

But, does it matter when his body was searing in pain?

By the end of the intense interrogation, Y/N finally got the intel she needed to find and destroy whatever was left behind by Wilfred Nagel, who was recruited by the CIA to recreate the super soldier serum.

Those greedy fuckers just cannot stay away from things that shouldn't be meddled with. Even Y/N could see the potential threats of a successful recreation the super soldier serum; they were practically asking for Hydra to revive to its glory days.

And she would not allow that to happen.

She needed to destroy it before its finished.

A loud wail left the man's lips, almost sounded a little strained as he had been screaming in pain for hours. Y/N mercilessly grabbed him by his sweaty chin as she pried his mouth open. Knowing exactly what was coming, the man begged, "Oh lord, please please help me please."

Leaning closer she coldly spoke, "The gods doesn't care about you. Trust me I've been there." With a swift strike, she forced her knife down his throat, and a splash of red tainted her mask, nearly got into her eyes but she managed to blink before it does.

She stood still as she watched him gurgle on his own blood as death collected his soul. Wiping the blood away from her eyelid, she walked out of the abandoned building with a mission to finish; all the while blissfully oblivious to the war that the avengers were fighting to their death on the other side of the world.

Madripoor, 2024 – The most prized asset

The returned of her parents were as sudden as the lost. Though she was glad that they were back, however she had to live a double life now that they kept asking about her job and personal life as they wanted to catch up for the lost of time in 5 years.

Y/N felt bad for lying to her parents but it was for their own good. Now, that she had sent them to a honeymoon to travel all over Europe, she felt better in pursuing her mission without concerns.

Besides the joyful return there was also the awful ones.

Now, that Wilfred Nagel was back from the blip. The serum was perfected to its finest version. And was stolen by bunch of kids protesting for equal rights.

What a fucking mess that was.

But, she would deal with that later. The main focus right now was to find the man itself. There would be no more serums if the source is eradicated.

That was her priority.

With her face hidden behind her signature mask, Y/N walked through the messy crowd as she searches for Shelby's men. This should be a short meeting, since Shelby and her had history together; or more to a favour that she owns to Y/N.

However, when she tried to tune in into the hushed conversations in the crowd, she noticed that the murmurs seemed to be divided into two hot topics; one about the sudden appreance of the Deathstalker, which was herself, and second was surprisingly about the return of another notorious assassin.

Then when the conversations died down, a fight suddenly broke out. Y/N hold on the handle of her blades from the side of her thighs, as she stiffed into a defensive mode.

While on the other hand, the crowd seemed to be more interested in recording the fight, than avoiding it.

She seemlessly weaved her way through the people, only to see that the action ended with a man choked onto the table of bar. The attacker's face turned away from her where she could only see his figure from the back.

Then, a gleam of gold caught her attention, Y/N squinted her eyes as she analyzed the man's left arm.

It was not the pattern of the sleeve from his suit.

It was his arm.

A black bionic arm.

Which reminded of her of someone she came across in her 6th life; but his was a tin foil silver with a red star on his upper arm. At the time, he was Hydra's most prized asset, they called him the Winter Soldier.

Part II >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: yes, I am well aware that left y'all hanging but I still hope you enjoy this one. Tell me what you think so far, I'm curious if y'all cry at the part where she received the letter or maybe you can comment of something else, I'd still love to hear them ♡

#winterarmyyfics #promise me au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #40s!bucky #1940s!bucky #tfatws!bucky

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libbyfandom · 1 month

Text

Mizu's Little Shadow

You finish sewing the tear in your daughter's small kimono, tugging the end into a knot and snipping off the excess. You hold up the piece of clothing to your eye level and shake it out. "Little moon, come here," you call for her as you inspect it. It looks well, but you want her to try it on to see if your stitch will hold up to her energetic movements.

When you don't hear the patter of you six year old's little feet you call her again. No answer. Standing up from the chair, you stretch your back with a soft grimace as you walk to the bedroom where she last was. You do not find her.

You search the small house before quickly turning to set the kimono down and head outside to look for her. Maybe Mizu had spotted her running around while she's training.

As soon as you slide open the back door your hear your daughter's voice. She's making little grunts and huffs like she's straining herself, and you worry she's trying to climb the tree next to the house again. Bunching the bottom of your kimono in hand, you follow her voice and hurry from the south end of the house back around to the front.

But when you round the corner of the house, you're surprised to find she's not failing to scramble up the base of the trunk. She's several meters past it, stumbling around and kicking out as her eyes follow Mizu a way's away from the house near the tree line.

Her tiny green haori is dirtied, dirt clumped in patches at her shoulder and sides where she's fallen on the ground several times already. Before you can call out to her, she trips and falls into the dirty hands first. With the childish grunt of irritation and determination, she pushes herself back up. She sets her eyes on Mizu again, settling her feet in the same way your lover has hers and mirrors the rhythm of her steps. She holds her tiny hand out like she's grasping at a heavy sword.

She's copying Mizu's training movements.

A soft laugh of surprise quietly slips from under your breath as your eyes warm from this new discovery. You lean against the tree trunk and tilt your head at her to soak in this new development of your child.

Your little girl's mirroring of Mizu's slow, methodical twists and parries with her sword are adorably wobbly. Compared to Mizu's balanced, fluid motions that showcase her mastery of each movement, your little moon's dance is closer to flailing. Your hand covers your repressed giggle as your eyes brighten at her stumbling feet.

Your fingertips gently rest against your lips as your eyes follow the line from her to Mizu. The way she's moving taps at your mind, causing a soft furrow between your eyebrows. Isn't that her warm up exercises?

Mizu's never done those this late into the afternoon. She would be focused on slicing through trees during this time on any other day. And you know how long she's been out. She can't possibly still be focused on her balance and fine-tuning the flow of movement. So why...?

On the next turn, from farther away, Mizu rotates on her heel and ends up facing you as she mimics a block. Her blue eyes catch yours, and she quirks her eyebrows up at you with a knowing smile.

When your daughter's foot slides a little on the dirt, and she hops on one foot to get back into position, that's when Mizu just so happens to pause her movements. Her slowed motions only resume when your daughter finds her footing again.

Oh...

Your heart sings, unable to help the pure expression of love and adoration for the both of them from flowing from your face.

Later in the night, after you both put your little moon to bed, you press yourself up tight against Mizu in the candlelight, sealing your lips to hers as you cup her face.

"I really did give birth to your clone."

Mizu chuckles quietly, pressing her lips back into yours. "She really thought I couldn't spot her in the middle of a clearing."

She brushes her lips along your cheekbone. "I can train her, if you wish."

You chuckle. "Maybe further down the line. If she's anything like you, she wants to think she's being sneaky and doing something she shouldn't be." You push her away playfully, before you're snatched around the waist. The room tilts as you're pinned down to the bed with a squeal by a beautiful swordsman grinning devilishly.

#mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #blueeyesamurai #blue eye samurai x reader

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sunny44 · 2 months

Text

Secret love

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Leclerc!reader

Warnings: Charles is a jerk, Carlos surgery and other things.

Summary: Carlos and Y/n are dating and Charles is not aware about it, unless he knows.

Continuation “Stubborn”

We were lying in his bedroom on his house in Monaco, naked, and I had my head on his chest while he traced imaginary circles on my back.

"You know we can't hide forever, right?" He says, and I grunted in frustration.

"Don't ruin the moment," I say, burying my face in his neck and he laughs.

"I'm serious."

"Who says we can't?"

"I did."

"But you were also the one who said that hiding made the sex even hotter."

"And it does, but we can't keep your family in the dark about this."

"And why not?"

"Because I don't want to keep mine in the dark either," he says, and I sigh. "I know your brother probably won't approve or he'll freak out, but I don't want to have to restrain myself from kissing you just because we're in public."

"I know, but I'm sure he'll freak out and I'm not in the mood to deal with him."

"Okay," he says, getting up and putting on his underwear.

"Carlos," I sit up in bed, covering myself with the sheet.

"I'm going to take a shower," he says, heading to the bathroom but stopping before entering and looking at me. "I respect your decision, and I always will, but that doesn't mean I won't be hurt or disagree with what you want."

I sighed, lying back down as he entered the bathroom. I grabbed my phone and saw messages from Charles, but I ignored them.

Carlos and I always got along well, but initially, there was nothing special about our relationship. Until something changed, and I couldn't help but notice how attractive he is. So we started getting involved, and it's been 5 months now, and a week ago he asked me to be his girlfriend.

I understand that he wants to introduce me to his family, and I want to meet them, but the moment that happens, I know soon my family will also find out and I'm not ready to deal with Charles.

I got up and went to the bathroom, and he was still in the shower. I entered with him and hugged him from behind, feeling him hold my hands.

"I want whatever you want. If you want me to meet your parents, if you want me to stay with you in Madrid or anywhere else." he turned to face me. "I want anything as long as it's with you."

"I know your brother is difficult and super protective when it comes to you, and I'm pretty sure he won't like me dating you at all, but I'm tired of hiding around when all I want is to hold your hand in public, kiss you when I got a podium, or hug you when I have a bad race."

"And I want all of that with you too." he smiles and kisses me.

"We can go to Spain and have dinner with my parents and my sisters." He strokes my face. "Charles won't know, and then we can decide how to tell him."

"Sounds like we have a plan."

...

I got home and took off my shoes, putting them by the door, and took off my coat.

I heard footsteps coming towards me, and Charles came over.

"Where have you been? I called you several times, and Mom said you've been out since yesterday."

"I went out."

"And where did you sleep?"

"Why were you looking for me?"

"I wanted to know if you're up for skiing together this weekend?"

"No, thanks." I started walking to the kitchen, and he followed me.

"Why not? You love skiing."

"Because I don't feel like being a third wheel for you, Lorenzo, and Arthur."

"Oh, come on, you always hang out with us."

"Yeah, that's why I know it won't be fun."

"Okay then. But anyway, what did you do last night?"

"Why are you so curious, just leave me alone."

"I need to know if you went out with someone."

"I did go out with someone."

"And who is he? I want to know if he's good for you."

"He is, and you don't need to know anything."

"Just tell me it's not Pierre."

"Ew, no. He's like a brother to me, and isn't he dating someone?"

"Oh right, I forgot." I sat on my bed, and he was still following me. "But anyway, who is it?"

"Ugh, you're so annoying, leave me alone."

"I need to know if he's right for you."

"You don't need to know anything, and you don't need to approve anything."

"Of course I do."

"I never evaluated any of your girlfriends, so you won't do it to me."

"But I'm your older brother, and you give your opinion about my girlfriends either way."

"It's because you're a jerk."

"Hey, why am I a jerk?"

"Because you use the same stupid excuse about focusing on your career and Ferrari and then you show up dating your ex's friend."

"Alex wasn't even Charlotte's friend, you're only saying that because you don't like her."

"Good thing you know." I said, getting up. "And Arthur is another jerk, the only one who's decent is Enzo."

"Okay, seriously, let's not argue about my relationships again."

We had argued before, not speaking for about two weeks. I have nothing against Alex; she's kind, but Charlotte was like a sister to me, and the way Alex entered our lives shortly after he and Charlotte broke up, I hated it. Not to mention the fact that she pushed in the beginning to be my friend, which ended up making me not like her.

My brother's relationships are none of my business, but as a woman, I think it's ridiculous that he gives these same excuses about Ferrari only to show up with someone else shortly afterward.

"Well, I'll go back home and see you at the next race then."

"See you later, and have a good trip."

...

I was at the airport in Spain, and I told him he didn't need to pick me up since he's well known here, and picking up his teammate's sister at an airport where people know him is a bad idea.

So he came to pick me up, but he was in a car with tinted windows so dark that I couldn't see it was him, and I was also covered enough so no one could see me.

"Hi, love." I got into the car and kissed him.

It had been a few weeks since we last saw each other.

"Hi, love.”m he replied and kissed me again. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too." I rubbed our noses together, and he laughed.

"I missed this too."

"That's good because there will be a lot of it in the next few days."

We're going to Mallorca, where his family spends their holidays, but since there's a race next week, we'll only spend the weekend before heading to Austria.

"My parents are excited to meet you."

"That's great, it makes me less nervous."

"Don't be nervous, they'll love you. And my sisters too."

The rest of the way was silent, but a comfortable silence. Carlos spent the whole way with his hand on my thigh, making me feel my heart race even more when he parked the car at their house.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just nervous."

"Everything will be fine," he looked at me, and I gave him a quick kiss. "I love you, you know that, right?"

"I love you too," I gave him another quick kiss and we got out of the car.

We grabbed our bags and went into the house, and I could hear several people talking at once, and I didn't understand anything, so they were probably speaking Spanish.

"Good morning, everyone," he says, and everyone stands up to greet us. "This is my girlfriend Y/n."

"You're beautiful," his mother smiled and hugged me. "Carlos spoke very highly of you."

"Thank you," I smiled.

“You remind of me of someone.” She says.

“I’ll guess that I remind you Carlos teammate.”

“Actually yes, you looks like Charles.”

“I’m his younger sister.” She looks surprised. “I’m basically his feminine version, we look a lot.”

“Wow, that’s surprising.” I smiled.

“A good surprising I hope.”

“Of course.”

“She showed me a photo of them when they were younger and they were basically twins.”

“What’s the age gap between you two?”

“Charles is 26, I’m 24 and Arthur my young brother is 23.”

“You all grew up very close.”

“Yes, and I also have a older brother, his name is Lorenzo. He’s 35.”

“You must missed having girls around.”

“Yeah, it was just me and my mom surrounded by boys.”

After chatting a lot, Carlos and I decided to go to our room.

"My brother knows I have someone." I said, sitting on the bed, and he turned to look at me.

"Does he know about us?"

"No, he just knows I have someone."

"Okay, do you want to tell him?"

"I don't know," I sighed. "At the same time that I want my family to know, I also don't want him to know."

"Well, let's enjoy our weekend and worry about that when it happens."

"Okay," he came towards the bed and climbed on top of me.

"Now I just want to enjoy the company of my girlfriend alone until I have to share you with the others."

"Hmm, I like the sound of that," he smiled and kissed me.

…

The weekend went by extremely fast and we were on a plane now heading to Austria. My brothers were there, and Carlos and I were going together.

When we arrived at the hotel, my brothers were coming out to the exit and saw us together.

"What are you two doing together?" Charles asked.

"We came on the same flight." Carlos replied.

"I thought you were in Spain and would come from there to here."

"I had to go to Monaco first."

"Ah, okay," I sighed in relief. "Come on, you're going to share the room with me."

"Did you come alone?"

"Yeah."

"Alright." He picked up my suitcase. "Bye, Carlos, thanks for the help."

"You're welcome," he smiled and followed Charles to the room we were in.

"There's only one bed, so..."

"No problem." I said, putting my bags in a corner.

"Were you and Carlos sitting together on the flight?"

"Not technically, but I convinced a guy to switch seats with me."

"Do you like him?" If I hadn't controlled myself, it would have been obvious how shocked I was when he asked.

"He's nice."

"That's good that you have a boyfriend; I wouldn't want you and him to have something."

"And why not?"

"We're on the same team, even though we're friends, we're always competing, and Carlos isn't the best boyfriend in the world."

"And why do you say that?"

"Because he ended a long-term relationship just to be with some model." I sighed.

"You're the last person who should be talking about being a good boyfriend."

"Why are you defending him?"

"It's not about defending; it's about saying that you can't judge someone by their relationship choices when you yourself don't know how to make them." He went silent. "And you know that's true."

"Whatever, let's all go out to dinner."

"I'm tired."

"That wasn't a question."

"Ugh, fine." I said, going into the bathroom to take a shower.

I got ready and we met up with my other brothers. When we arrived downstairs, I saw Carlos dressed up, and obviously, I had to disguise my reaction.

"I invited him; he was alone," Charles said to me.

"Oh, that's great."

"Why are you suddenly excited?" He asked after noticing my change in mood.

"Because I'm hungry and happy that you're going to pay."

"Who said I'm going to pay?"

"I did. You earn way more than I do."

"Haha."

I managed to sit next to Carlos without making it obvious that I wanted it to happen. We ordered dinner, and while we waited, I felt his warm hand on my leg.

"So, how are you guys feeling about this weekend?" Lorenzo asked the two Ferrari drivers.

"I think it all depends on how the car performs on the track, but I'm trying to be optimistic." he said, and I put my hand on top of his.

"Yeah, let's see if we can get on the podium." At that moment, our food arrived.

...

After dinner, we talked for a while longer until we went back to the hotel. Obviously, I wouldn't be able to sneak away to Carlos's room since I was sharing a room with Charles.

After I removed my makeup and put on comfortable clothes, I texted Carlos to meet me in the pool area.

"I'm going for a walk; are you going to sleep?" I asked Charles, who was already lying down.

"Where are you going?"

"Just walking around a bit, exploring the hotel. I won't be able to do this once we start going to the Paddock."

"Oh, okay, I'm going to sleep. Take the room key."

"I got it, call me if you need anything." He agreed, and I left the room and went to where we had arranged to meet.

"Hi.” He whispered, hugging me around the waist.

"Hi." He kissed me, and I smiled in the middle of the kiss.

"You have no idea how hard it was to see you in that dress and not kiss you."

"You also looked very handsome in that outfit." He smiled. "It's always nice to see you in clothes that aren't Ferrari, I think Charles is the only one worse than you."

"Oh, come on."

"Seriously, you guys have no sense of style."

"Okay then, I'll leave it up to you from now on what I'm going to wear."

"If it's up to me, you won't wear anything from now on." He laughed.

“Whatever you say.”

"I can't stay too long." I said to him, who grunted.

"Alright, we'll see each other tomorrow then." I agreed. "Are you going to wear my shirt?"

"Your dream." He smiled. "Do you have a spare one?"

"Seriously?" He asked surprised.

"Seriously."

"I do. Let's go get it." We went to his room, and he grabbed a shirt from his suitcase and handed it to me. "Thank you."

"Are you sure you want to wear it? I know I want everyone to know about us, but I don't want you to feel pressured into it."

"I know, but I realized just now that we've been meeting in secret like two teenagers in a forbidden relationship. We hold hands under the table at dinner and all because I'm afraid of my brother's reaction." He looked at me. "I don't want to hide my love for you; it's not something I'm afraid or ashamed of."

"Whatever you want, I'll be happy." He cupped my face and kissed me.

"I love you." His eyes sparkled. "I love you so much, and I want you to always know that."

"I love you too, my love." I rubbed our noses together, and he laughed.

"Well, we have to sleep now because tomorrow is going to be very busy."

We said goodbye and went to our rooms to sleep. I took off my clothes, brushed my teeth, put on my pajamas, and lay down.

"Are you okay?" He asked sleepily.

"I am, you can go back to sleep." He gave me a kiss on the forehead and fell asleep again.

...

The next day, I woke up alone and saw a message on my phone from Charles saying he had already left and others from Carlos.

Carlitos 🌶️

Good morning, Hermosa

I’m already heading to the track, and I’ll see you later

Don’t feel pressured to wear the shirt; if you don’t feel comfortable, wear something else

Love you

Good morning, my love

I'm still thinking about the shirt

But don't worry, if I wear it, it's because I want to

Love you more and see you soon

In the end, I decided not to wear the shirt today but on race day, and since today was just practice 1, I decided to do that.

When I arrived at the paddock, people were taking photos, but they seemed more focused on me than usual, and when I got to the garage, I could see the anger in my brother's eyes.

"Is this serious?" He asked me angrily . "Carlos, seriously? And you even had the nerve to lie to my face all this time."

"Charles, calm down," Lorenzo held his arm.

"What's going on?"

"What's going on is that you're sleeping with him," he said loudly, and some people looked.

"Hey, lower your voice," Lorenzo once again reprimanded him.

"Seriously, I don't understand your problem, judging me all this time for my relationships while you were doing this."

"I don't understand what's happening?"

"You're dating Carlos?"

"Yes," I said loudly what I had been afraid to say for a long time.

"Then he was the guy you were talking about that day?" Before I could answer, Carlos showed up.

"What's going on?"

"You son of a bitch." Charles tries to lunge at him, but some mechanicsll and my brothers hold him back. "You were here all this time pretending to be my friend, and behind my back, you were sleeping with my sister, seriously?"

"I'm not just sleeping with your sister, I like her. Actually, no, let me correct myself, I love her."

"Yeah, sure, your ex heard the same thing for 8 years until you dumped her."

"Can you stop?" He looked at me. "Just stop."

Everyone went silent, and I just shook my head and left there, I went straight back to the hotel and cried the rest of the day curled up in bed until I fell asleep.

I woke up to noises in the room, and it was Charles pacing back and forth, and I could see the anger in his eyes when he saw that I was awake.

"What are you doing?"

"Packing my things, I'm not going to stay in the same room as you."

"You don't need to, I'm going back home." I said getting up.

"You're not going to stay to watch your boyfriend's race?"

"Can you stop?"

"And why should I? You're a liar, you and him."

“I decided not to tell you, not him.”

"It doesn't matter to me who decided or not; he shouldn't even be with you in the first place." He looked at me. "You're only 24, and he's turning 30, you're at different points in your life, do you really think he's going to want to be with you for long?"

"Why wouldn't he?"

"Because we're always traveling, meeting new people. Do you really think that when he's alone, there won't be thousands of women chasing after him?" I held back my tears. "Do you really think that when he's drunk after a race and some model comes onto him, he'll resist? Do you really think he won't end up sleeping with her, and you'll be the pathetic girlfriend who was cheated on by a Formula 1 driver?"

"Tell your girlfriend what you just said to me, Formula 1 driver." I stepped closer to him. "Soon your girlfriend will have such big horns that she won't even fit through the door."

"You have no right to talk.” He says angrily.

"I'm a much better boyfriend than him, and I don't date my teammates' sisters."

“Stop making things about you Charles.”

“I’m not making things about me.”

"Yes you are. Do you know how hard it is to be related to you? How hard Enzo, Arthur, and I had to fight for some attention in this family?”

"That has nothing to do with the situation."

"Yes, it does. You always find a way to make things about you. Why can’t you just see that I’m happy with him? Is it so hard for you to let me be happy?" He doesn't say anything. "Things always were and always are going to be about you, how you wanted to do go-karting, how dad was always helping you and never had time for me, how your career affected Arthur’s career, how mom didn’t go to my college graduation because it was your F1 debut. Do you see how it is? You're always in the spotlight in the family. Enzo is the first child, so he is special, Arthur is the youngest, so he gets a lot of attention, and you are the superstar. And what am I? I'm the one who always is put to the side, and for the first time in years, I'm happy and you’re still making about you"

"Then why are you here fighting with me instead of just ignoring what I think is best for you and going after him?"

"Because you're my brother. I’ll always put our family above my happiness and even though you're an idiot, I still love you, and I still care about what you think of me." I wiped the tears from my face, and he fell silent. "And I shouldn’t care since I’m no one to you."

"Y/n…"

"No. You made it very clear that I'm just a slut for Carlos to sleep with until he finds someone better." I shouted in his face. "I never treated you disrespectfully, regardless of the stupid decisions you make daily, and at the first opportunity you had, you treated me like a nobody instead of your little sister."

I grabbed my suitcase and left. I wasn't really going to Monaco because there were no flights and I didn't want to be alone at this moment, so I went to the only place where I would really feel safe.

"Hey, don't cry." It was the first thing he said when he opened the door. "It's going to be okay."

"I'm sorry." My voice came out low and faltering.

"You didn't do anything wrong to apologize to me for." He hugged me tightly.

"I need to because my brother shouldn't have said those things to you." He grabbed my face and made me look at him.

"I don't care about anything he said to me, and I don't care at all about what he thinks of me. What I care about is that he hurt you over something that's none of his business."

"Can we not talk about him anymore, please?" And once again, I was crying.

"I'll prepare a bathtub for you, okay?" I agreed and sat on the edge of the bed while he went to the bathroom.

We stayed silent the whole time; he prepared the bathtub, tied my hair up in a bun, helped me with my clothes, and my body relaxed as soon as it touched the water.

"Do you mind keeping me company?" He smiled and took off his clothes, sitting behind me.

"You know I love you, right?"

"I know, and I love you too." He kissed my forehead, and we returned to silence.

I think we stayed for about 20 minutes until the water cooled and then we got out, got dressed, and went to bed to lie down.

"Everything will be okay if you're willing to continue, your brother will accept it over time." I agreed with him.

"I hope so because I don't know how it will be if he hates me forever."

"He doesn't hate you, he's just upset."

"How do you feel about this weekend?" I changed the subject.

"I think it’s okay."

"Is there any problem with the car?"

"It's not that, it's just that I've been feeling a bit strange." I got up quickly.

"What do you mean strange? You’re sick and here I am lamenting over my idiot brother." I put my hand on his forehead and saw that he was a little warm.

"I'm fine, I’m just a little warm.”

"Okay, but if you feel anything different, let me know." He agreed, and I lay down again for us to sleep.

...

Carlos woke up unwell today; his fever was high, and he didn't seem very well, but he was insisting on going to practice.

"You have to stay and rest."

"I'm fine; it's just a fever."

"It's not just a fever; this could get much worse later."

"Hermosa." He held my hands on his face. "I'm fine; everything will be okay."

"Just promise me you'll take care of yourself and not push beyond what your body can handle."

"I promise." He gave me a peck on the lips and smiled. "Are you sure you'll be okay here alone?"

"I'm more worried about you than me, okay."

"I promise to come back as soon as possible and not to overdo it."

"Okay, I love you."

"I love you too." With that, he left.

A few hours passed, and I saw that a strange number was calling me, and for some reason, I decided to answer.

"Hello?"

"Is this Y/n?"

"Yes."

"This is Roberto Merhi."

"Oh, hi, is everything okay?"

"I'm here to talk about Carlos; his fever got worse and he was taken to the hospital to do some tests, and in the end, he'll have to undergo emergency surgery to remove his appendix, and before he went, he told me you were his girlfriend and asked me to call you."

"My God, which hospital?" I asked, already putting on my sneakers.

"I'm parking in front of your hotel and we'll go together."

"I'm coming down."

The trip to the hospital was horrible; I only knew that he had to have surgery, but I didn't know if he was already having it, if he had already done it, or whatever was happening at the moment. The only thing I knew was that I needed to see him.

"Hi, you have a patient here named Carlos Sainz, and I'm his girlfriend."

"Your name, please?"

"Y/n Leclerc." She agreed.

"He entered surgery 10 minutes ago, but it's a simple procedure, so if there are no complications, he should be out in at most an hour."

"Thank you."

"You can wait in the waiting room."

The waiting time was agonizing ; Roberto and I stayed there waiting for news.

"How did you two meet?"

"Well, it was at the Paddock; we always got along well, and I often come to see Charles race, so we got closer, and here we are."

"I bet your brother doesn't know or doesn't like it." I laughed.

"He didn't know until yesterday, and he doesn't like it today." He laughed too. "It's complicated."

"I can imagine."

"Miss Sainz." I stood up as the doctor arrived.

"Yes?"

"He's doing well, the surgery was a success, and he was asking for you."

"Thank you." I went to the room, and he was lying there, smiling when he saw me.

"Hi, love.”

"Hi." I went to him, and he took my hand. "You promised you wouldn't strain yourself."

"Don't make me laugh." He said, already laughing.

"Sorry."

"It's okay."

"How do you feel?"

"Like I've been opened up and closed again."

"Stop joking."

"I'm fine, obviously, it still hurts, but the doctor said I'll be fine."

"I was so worried when Roberto called me."

"I didn't mean to worry you."

"I know you didn't, but I worry anyway."

"Come here." He shifted to the side, and I lay down with him.

"I love you." I felt him smile since his face was against my head.

"I love you more."

"Excuse me." We looked at the door and saw Charles there with a balloon. "Can I come in?"

"Come in." Carlos said, and I got up from the bed.

"How are you feeling?"

"I could be better, obviously, but I'm okay."

"I brought a balloon." He handed him a helium balloon.

"Congratulations on motherhood?" I asked.

"It was the only one available." Carlos laughed.

"Thanks."

"Can I talk to you?" Now he asked me.

"Depends, will we be civilized?"

"Yes."

"I'll be right back, okay?"

"Can you bring me some water later?"

"Of course." I smiled and left the room.

"I'm really sorry for everything, I was an idiot, and I shouldn't have meddled in your relationships, and I also shouldn't have talked to you like that." He said. "It's just that you're my little sister and I can't stand the fact of someone having access to your heart to the point of being able to break it."

"Charlie, I love you for wanting to protect me, and I know your intentions are good, but the way you handled the situation hurt me." I wiped a tear. "I know you don't like the idea of me dating your teammate, but I love him, and we're not just fooling around, it's serious, and I don't need you to like it, just to respect my decision."

"And I do respect it." I agreed. "I love you, you know that, right?"

"I know, and I love you too, Charlie." He hugged me tight. "I'll go bring the water."

"Okay."

"Are you staying longer, or are you leaving now?"

"I'm leaving now; I just came to see you guys. I still have to race tomorrow."

"Oh, right. I would go and watch, but..."

"It's okay; you have many races to watch. Don't worry about me, just take care of him."

"Bye, Charlie."

"Goodbye, Y/n." He leaves, and I go back to the room.

"Is everything okay?" He asks, drinking the water.

"Now it is." He smiles, and I turn on the TV and lie back down on the bed with him.

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