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myfictionaldreams · 1 year

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Winter Soup // Mafia!Stucky x F!Reader

Summary: There was no better feeling than a bowl of hot soup when you're feeling unwell and, what's even better is when it's delivered to your door every day by your new guard. It tasted amazing and you could always trust everyone in the Mafia... right?

Requested by: @senjoritanana thank you so much, I hope you enjoy all the angst!

A/N: PSA I don't know the specifics of how poisons work and didn't want to risk it on my google history lmao so please ignore any inaccuracies. Please read the tags if you're affected by near death experiences, please proceed with caution and if I've missed any tags/warnings, please let me know!

Warnings/Tags: 18+ readers only, hints of smut, angst (LOTS BUCKLE UP), fluff, polyamory relationship, poisoning, blood and injury, anxiety, crying, begging, near death expierences, reader is injured, pain, emotional hurt/comfort, hospitalization, protective Steve Bucky and Sam, everyone needs a hug tbh

Words: 7.7k

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The warmer months were slowly starting to shift into winter and for some reason this year, the weather change was beginning to affect your health. You’d heard of the phrase ‘seasonal depression’ but you were convinced that it was due to the cooler weather that was making you feel this rubbish.

It had been happening for a week now, and some days you’d feel fine, normal in fact but then others your chest felt so tight as if an elephant was sitting on top of you, nausea, vertigo and heart palpations that would have you clutching your chest with fear you might explode. With each passing day, you would be praying for the summer months to return, especially as the snow and ice increased with intensity outside of your home.

You were fine for the most part, good days and bad; yes you might be getting worse with each passing day but you were adamant that the seasonal illness would pass. However, the frosty weather was also a minor blessing because it was your excuse to stay home and be a pretty housewife for Steve and Bucky. Being able to stay home made it easier to keep the illness to yourself as well, it was a busy time within the Rogers mafia and you didn’t need them wasting their time fretting over your wellness when they had a lot of other things to do. They had many international deals that were so close to being signed for and contracted that every waking hour was spent at the office, on phone calls, and emails, trying to talk to locals across the world to attend meetings on their behalf so the boys were thoroughly busy.

There were a few occasions you’d attended with them to the office if you were feeling particularly needy or lonely but it unnerved you to drive on the snow and ice so when you suggested that you might stay at home, Steve and Bucky offered no complaints.

At home at least you were able to mop about, trying to perk yourself up with movies, pyjamas and your favourite bowl of warm soup. Over the last few months, you’d been trying to improve your cooking skills, especially to impress Steve who usually cooked for three of you. This became more interesting as the colder months drew in over Brooklyn as this meant you could cook more homely, hearty foods such as soups and stews, especially as you had recipe suggestions from the newly hired grounds guard Rafael.

He’d been recommended by a friend of a friend for Steve to hire which was perfect timing because the last grounds guard had retired. There were a few occasions when he was the guard to bring the post to the front door from the front gate and you soon found he was enthusiastic and easy to talk to, even though he was a little bit older, which was how you found out he had previously been a chef and offered to give you recipe ideas. As winter drew in, Rafael began turning up when he knew you were by yourself to deliver some of his momma’s family recipe soups, hoping that the meal would perk you up which it did, they tasted so delicious that you were secretly hoping he would keep bringing them to you, especially as you continued to feel unwell.

“What is it today?”, you asked voice full of hope and trying to sound as upbeat as possible. Even though you were desperately holding onto the door handle as your head was spinning and scared you’d fall over.

“Potato and leek soup and they’re all grown in my back yard so hopefully you’ll love it even more than usual”, Rafael smiled as he handed over the container, his smile broad and causing the aged creases at the corner of his eyes to deepen.

Gleefully you accepted the soup, opening the lid slightly to smell the delicious meal, your stomach grumbling with hunger. Your appetite had reduced significantly over the last few days due to always feeling nauseous however it seemed the only thing that you could stomach was his delicious meals and therefore his arrival was always welcomed.

“Thank you so much! Please will you let me pay you this time? You’re being way too kind to me, always giving me free meals, you’re going above and beyond a usual guard”, you pleaded whilst also having to return holding onto the door handle as it felt like the ground was moving with your dizziness.

Rafael held up his hands and shook his head, taking a step back, “Absolutely not! Just wanted to give you something to make you feel better and make the fairies go away”.

The guard halted, a look of embarrassment passing out his features as he realised what he just said, especially as you asked, “Fairies?”

He awkwardly looked down at his shoes, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to explain, “Yeah it’s just something my momma use to say. If we were feeling unwell, it’s because the fairies had crept into our stomachs and were being naughty and making us ill and now I’ve said it out loud to another person I’ve realised how insane that sounds so I’m going to stop talking”.

You squeezed your lips together to try and contain your laughter but that lasted a moment before you were both laughing which only turned into you losing your balance against the door and swaying to keep yourself upright. The laughter died in Rafael’s eyes as he reached out to you, “Woah, you ok, Ma’am?”

Quickly brushing him off, you took a step back into your home, trying to ask nonchalantly about the situation, “Yeah sorry, probably just the fairies pushing me over”. Your joke didn’t seem to comfort him in any way as he continued to look uneased by your appearance.

Thankfully Rafael didn’t push the situation any further, seeing that you wanted to escape back into the comfort of your home, he took his step back with a simple smile. “Get back inside before you catch another cold from this snow. Eat the soup whilst it’s still warm and I’ll be back tomorrow to hear the verdict on the taste.”

“Thank you Rafael! Enjoy the rest of your day!”. You waved him off and rushed to slam the door, sliding down to the floor against the wood, losing all energy that you’d built that morning just for that one conversation. Ok yes, you were feeling sorry for yourself as you tried to catch your breath, heart pounding violently in your chest that it also echoed in your ears and your vision was still seeing double of everything.

However your stomach continued to gurgle with hunger so without wasting any more energy, you opened the lid and ate the entire contents then and there. Releasing a satisfied sigh at the delicious meal, you took another couple of minutes to gather your senses before dragging yourself over to the living room, collapsing onto your back on the couch and letting sleep take you into a dreamless realm.

A violent shake of your shoulders by a hard grip on your shoulder was what startled you awake as Sam’s voice then surrounded you as he shouted, “Hey! Wake up!”.

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever been close to hating you Sam Wilson”, you croaked before coughs shattered your chest, rocking your body as you tried to sit up and suck in any air between the painful coughs. Finally, you calmed down enough to collapse back against the decorative cushions of the couch and open your eyes to look at the three Sam’s that hovered over you. After a couple more blinks, they merged into one, very distressed-looking bodyguard, eyebrows knitted together and jaw muscle clenched harshly.

Sam reached towards your face, pressing against your cheek in concern, “Why didn’t you tell me you were ill?”

“What? I’m not ill, I’m just tired, can’t a girl nap around here?” you questioned with a raised eyebrow, trying to look as relaxed as possible.

The man didn’t look convinced as he sat on the edge of the couch next to you. Releasing a heavy sigh which only twinged something in your chest that made you want to cough but you refrained from doing so as you emphasised, “Sam seriously, I’m fine”.

Sam gave you another serious glance, eyes hardening as he explained, “You didn’t sound fine, you were wheezing so hard in your sleep I thought you were going to stop breathing”.

There was no denying the panic that filled your heart and would explain the tightened feeling in your chest but you tried to not let the fear show on your face as you rolled your eyes, reaching for his hand and squeezing it.

“I appreciate your concern Sam, but I feel ok, I’m just tired, I was probably just sleeping in a weird position and look, no wheeze now!” Taking a deep breath to show there was no more noise coming from your chest, however, it didn’t seem to comfort him in any way.

“Yeah well you’re still looking peaky and why are you so tired all the time recently, you’re never usually like this”.

“It’s probably just the cold weather or something. If I start to feel unwell, you know I’d tell you. I’m a big baby when I’m ill, you’ll be the first to know”. Sam looked to be contemplating believing you and all you were silently begging for was that he didn’t call Steve and Bucky, they just didn’t need this stress right now. Even though it was in his contract to call them at any sign of injury or illness but as Sam looked at you, other than looking tired, you seemed to be fine and still joking with him. Finally, he gave you a simple nod and you couldn't hold back the thankful sigh. “Do you mind if I go back to sleep for a little while longer or do you need me for anything?”

“You’ve been sleeping a lot recently”, he stated his earlier point again.

“What, so I’m not allowed to nap now?” you teased him with a subtle smile, hoping to crack his worried exterior. It only half worked as he shook his head to himself, standing up and pulling the fluffy blanket that had been left behind you on the couch and throwing it over your body. Before you could even thank him though, sleep had stolen you back into its resting state.

Sleeping for a few more hours, Sam was nowhere to be seen but he usually liked to check the perimeter ever so often and speak to the other guards so you weren’t worried about his whereabouts. As you shuffled to the kitchen, you couldn’t tell if you felt any worse or better after all the sleeping, haven’t wasted another day feeling sorry for yourself, you tried to snap out of it by glancing through the refrigerator and cupboards and deciding to ssurpriseSteve and Bucky with a romantic meal.

The house was soon filled with delicious scents of sweet and savoury as you’d baked and were in the process of cooking their dinner. You were in your own little world and had only stumbled a handful of times with dizziness and the headache that was building was currently mild in comparison to others you had, it was fine you determined to yourself

Still lost in your own thoughts, you hadn’t even heard the front door open as you were suddenly enveloped by a muscular chest and arms, a smile aching your cheeks as you nuzzled back into Steve’s body. His lips danced over your cheek and down your neck as he held you close, the roughness of his beard comforting. “I didn’t hear you come in”, you commented, turning your head slightly to chase after his lips, sighing deeply in your chest as he held you tighter for a second, hands dipping beneath your shirt at your waist so that he could feel the warmth of your skin.

“I did shout”, he revealed whilst moving back to neck, not to kiss but just to smell you in, his body almost melting into the floor as he felt at home with the familiar scents. “I’ve missed you”, he whispered against your skin.

Goosebumps instantly flooded over your body as you shivered, turning in his arms to hug him properly, your fingers scratching through his hair that was beginning to curl at the ends where he’d allowed it to grow out over the winter months. “I’ve missed you too”, you whispered against his lips, lazily kissing and breathing each other in.

“Come with us tomorrow, I want you to be near me”, he admits with words that were making you cling to him harder.

You wanted to say yes and the word was on the tip of your tongue but then your thoughts drifted to the soup coming. “I’ve got a delivery coming that I can’t miss, I’m sorry”.

“The guards can get the delivery”, he counters.

“It’s fresh soup I want it whilst it’s hot”, an embarrassed smile finds its way to your lips as he leans his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he just enjoyed the moment of the two of you being together.

“Soup? But we could order that to the office if you wanted it, you know that’s no issue”.

You pout dramatically, hanging off his neck as you whisper with a childish tone, “But it won’t be the soup that I’ve ordered and want”.

Steve rolls his eyes but you know he's being playful, he could never find a reason to be upset with you. Rolling back his shoulders, he stands back to his full height, opening his eyes to cup your cheek with his massive hand but this was when he took you in and a frown dawned on his face just like it had on Sam’s. “Are you feeling ok?” The hand on your cheek moved towards your forehead, expecting to feel a temperature but it felt normal.

“I feel great”, you say with as much cheer in your tone as possible, still holding onto his neck but mostly because another wave of dizziness had rushed through you and you needed some support to stay standing.

Steve didn’t seem convinced, “You just … look a little off”.

You playfully rolled your eyes, similar to how he had just done, “Wow thanks Steve”.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that”.

“I know, I’m joking, I’m fine - really, it's nothing to worry about”. He eyes you and doesn’t fall for your grin so you tried your next trick up your sleeve. Leaning on your tip toes whilst pulling his face closer, you whispered against his lips, “I love you, Stevie”.

The tension momentarily eased from his shoulders as his grip around you tightened, “I love you too”.

“Sorry to interrupt your love fest but I want my own loving”, Bucky broadly announced from the entrance of the kitchen where he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a twinkle of mischief in his blue eyes however as you pulled back from Steve and he could finally see your face, the happiness seeped from his face. “Woah, what happened? Are you ok?”

You gave a frustrated huff, finally releasing Steve’s neck as you pointed in the direction of the decorated table. “Right, both of you go and sit down before I decide you don’t deserve any food for being mean”.

Steve shuffled away first as you continued to cook the food, Bucky looking ashamed as he came over and kissed your cheek but before he could pull away, you quickly captured his lips in a kiss to show you’d been playing before and weren’t upset.

“Why are there only two plates on the table?” Steve questioned as he took a seat.

Without looking over your shoulder at him, you casually answered, “I’ve already had mine, I wasn’t sure when you were both going to be home and I didn’t want to wait”. They both seemed to accept your lie and you happily sat with them as they ate, asking about how the deals were going. They both seemed to be agreed that they were sure to have contracts signed tomorrow and had even been able to pay off some of the international police so that shipping of the goods could occur. In truth, after the soup, you were not feeling at all remotely hungry and even the smell of the cooked food had turned your stomach over.

A couple of hours later, the three of you were preparing for bed. Steve is in the middle and you are to his right and Bucky is to his left. You and the mafia boss had been kissing deeply for a couple of minutes, his hands beneath your shirt, brushing against your breasts, rough fingertips peaking your nipples as you ground down on his thigh. You were soaked and he could feel the evidence of it as you weren’t wearing any underwear but the longer the touches and kisses went on for, the more you were feeling unwell.

As his teeth tugged on your bottom lip and he began to trail open-mouthed kisses over your jaw and down your throat, you noticed Bucky was doing the same thing but to Steve’s neck from behind. However, there were two Bucky’s instead of one as your vision swayed and it felt as if you were on a water bed with how unsteady you felt. The headache was close to a full-blown migraine as well now which only continued to make you feel nauseous so even though there was nothing more you wanted than to continue where this intimacy was leading but, for once, you had to stop it.

“Wait, just- just one moment”, you pushed against Steve's shoulders at the same time. The blonde's hold on you loosened as he moved his face back to look into your eyes but you’d closed them, trying to hide your face from him and Bucky who had also sat up further to check on you. “I just- sorry I’m tired and I… I’m not sure- sorry.. I don’t think-”.

Steve’s fingers tipped your chin up to look at him as he smiled softly down at you, “If you don’t want to do anything, we don’t have to. If you’re tired then I’ll just hold you close, ok? Please don’t apologise for not wanting any of this”.

You relaxed in his arms, feeling grateful for him but also bad that you could feel how aroused he was against your stomach. “Thank you. I’m just feeling so tired today. Please don’t let me stop you both, continue without me, I just want to go to sleep”.

“You don’t have to give us reasons why you don’t want to do it, baby, we’ll do whatever you want to do. Me and Buck don’t have to fuck if you want to be held, I don’t want you thinking we’re neglecting you”.

Affection and love warmed your heart as you kissed Steve’s lips and then reached over his shoulder to kiss Bucky. “I love you both but seriously please continue, I like watching you both anyway so that’ll satisfy me enough if I’m not asleep by that point anyway”.

They both gave their love back to you with praises and pecks to your face before rolling away from you and beginning their exploration of each other's bodies. You watched with a smile on your face for a couple of moments and your core ached with need but as a burst of pain pounded through your temple, your eyes shut automatically to help ease the pain and from there, they never opened again as sleep took you soon after.

The next morning, your migraine had gone but your entire body felt weak and drained of any energy. Steve and Bucky took one look at you and determined that they’d be working from home, wishing to remain near you but they still needed the comfort of their home office upstairs whereas you remained downstairs, pretending to watch TV.

Somehow, you had continued to hide your seasonal illness, they just thought you still looked peaky. Today was the worst you’d felt so far, even having to use the wall as support whilst walking around the home, silently coughing into cushions so that the boys wouldn’t hear upstairs and this only increased the sharp pain shooting through your chest.

At lunchtime, Sam came over to visit and found you at the table in the kitchen, head lying against the table top as you dipped in and out of sleep. You were too tired to even pretend to joke and thankfully for once he didn’t pester you with being unwell, especially knowing Steve and Bucky were home, he assumed they had seen how bad you were so he just sat next to you at the table, easing his hand under your head so you had some comfort against the hard surface.

Soon after, Rafael knocked on the front door with your soup delivery. Usually h,e would stay at the door, never coming into your home but Sam insisted that he come out of the cold and deliver the soup to you in person.

“Yay!” you croaked, reaching out for the warm container, seeing the soup within and seeing that it was a deep red colour today, possibly tomato.

“I didn’t know you cooked, Rafael”, Sam noted, taking his seat next to yours once more as the new guard stayed standing at the head of the table. Other than Natasha, Sam was the lead of the security and guards and technically Rafael’s boss.

“Oh yeah, he used to be a chef”, you explained to Sam, whilst opening the lid of the container, smelling the delicious food and confirming your theory that it was tomato soup.

“Chef? I didn’t know you worked as a chef”, Sam remarked with a frown, eyeing Rafael with confusion as he’d been the one to complete the job interview and didn’t remember seeing chef on his CV.

Rafael casually shrugged his shoulders, looking somewhat tense at the questioning but still forced a smile to his face to please his boss. “I didn’t think it was relevant to the job, to be honest”.

“We’ll have to get you on the bbq when the weather perks up, maybe that’ll stop the arguments between Steve and Bucky”, Sam mused over the thought.

You tried to chuckle but the exhaustion had you slumping against the table as you mumbled, “I feel like shit”.

Sam tensed next to you, “Maybe we should call a doctor. You know, I’m surprised Steve and Bucky aren’t down here right now looking after you, do they even know how bad you’re feeling today?”

“Wait, they’re both here?” Rafael asked Sam but he ignored him, his focus solely on you.

Once again you’re too tired to think of an answer and shrug your shoulders, turning your head to look up at Rafael, “I think the fairies like me too much”.

“Fairies?”, Sam questions thinking that you’d become delirious.

You smile genuinely to Sam, reaching to tap his shoulder, “Inside joke Sam, keep up”.

There was no further discussion of fairies as more hacking coughs ripped through you. It took a couple of moments and Sam rushed to get you a glass of water before you slumped back against the table in exhaustion.

“Why don’t you have the soup and then see how you’re feeling later? Maybe the rest is all you need”, Rafael suggested, filling the silence with his voice.

You couldn’t see it but Sam gave his employee a scathing look, “Rest is all she’s been doing. I’m calling the doc and then I’m going upstairs to tell Steve and Bucky”.

“Aren’t they busy?” Rafael continued to question Sam. “I’ve heard they’ve got that deal coming up from Italy and France, they might appreciate it if you wait a little bit before calling Doctors”.

Sam’s voice was quiet and stern but you were too tired to notice. “That’s not common knowledge, how do you know that?”.

Massaging your temples with the pounding thuds that hadn’t stopped since your coughing fit, you decided that Rafael was right, usually sleep made you feel better. Reaching for the soup one more, you opened the container as you addressed your bodyguard, “he’s right Sam. I just need today for all the work stuff to be over and then I’ll call the doctor. The boys don’t need any distractions, especially today, one more day isn’t going to kill me”.

Sam didn’t look happy as you began to idly sip on the thick, delicious soup. As you thanked Rafael for the meal, Sam finally looked back to him, his frown deep and unmoving as he asked, “Don’t you have work to do?”

Rafael’s spine straightened, “Oh yeah, right. Sorry, sir” and with that, he left to return to work.

“You don’t have to be so bossy you know, he’s just trying to help”, you tried to reason with Sam.

However, your friend ignored you and moved to hold your hand to pull your attention away from the meal and towards him. “I’m giving you until the evening, wait no- if you get any worse before the evening, I am calling the Doc, no arguments, understand?”

“Yes sir”, you say with a little salute.

Finishing your soup, your boyfriends finally came downstairs and you attempted to straighten your posture and plaster a fake smile on your face. Bucky paused in the entryway, sniffing the air and asking, “What’s that smell, I know it's from somewhere but can’t put my finger on it”.

“Is it my soup?” you say, trying to stand up and act like the floor was spinning beneath you.

“No, it’s not that”, he pondered, still looking around and trying to smell whatever he recognised but couldn’t pick it up again. Steve and Bucky both walked past you, kissing the back of your head as you casually explained that you were going to lie down for a little bit. “Wait, let me come with you-”, Bucky started but you held out your hand to stop him.

“You’ve got a busy time at work and I’ve got Sammy boy here anyway so you two continue with your work and we’ll have a nice evening in, Ok?”

“Yes Ma’am”, he mutters before continuing to make his lunch. It wasn’t often that he listened to your instructions but both men were so busy and overwhelmed with work and the consequences that could come from it all that they were all over the place.

The next hour passed by slowly and you didn’t manage to sleep even for a moment because your symptoms were making you feel so awful. You were wheezing so bad that each breath felt like you were suffocating, your eyes began to roll with how much the room was spinning and a violent tremble rocked through your entire body, you didn’t feel right, something was wrong and it was beginning to scare you.

“Sam?” your voice was nothing more than a rasping whisper but he still was able to hear you from where he had been on the phone with the doctor from across the room, having noticed your deterioration in health. He was kneeling by your side in a couple of broad steps, the phone balancing between his cheek and shoulder as he rested a hand on your temple, feeling your spiked temperature. “I don’t feel good”, you admitted, voice full of terror before more coughs ruptured through your chest, leaving you struggling to breathe.

“Steve! Bucky get down here right now!”

“No… no, I just need to sleep”, the fear had disappeared from your voice as you wished for the exhaustion to take you completely, hoping that in sleep you wouldn't feel the pain destroying your insides.

“Hey! No! Don’t go t sleep, need you to stay awake for me, Doctor Banner is on his way but you can’t go to sleep”, Sam urgently tapped your face, rousing you from the sleep as Bucky had all but jumped down the entire flight of stairs at the shouting.

“What’s going on- What the fuck? Doll?” he replaced where Sam was so that he could continue to explain to the doctor what was happening.

“I’m just not feeling ok, it’s fine Bucky go back to work”, you were somewhat delirious, still not really opening your eyes but leaning into the coldness from Bucky’s hand as he cupped your face. Bucky looked to Sam for answers, his eyes bright and alert with fury and worry.

When Sam shrugged his shoulders, not having any answer as to why you were suddenly so unwell, Bucky quickly turned back to you and assessed your deteriorating health and noticed just how laboured your breathing had become. As he spoke, it was with surprising gentleness but still held authority, “I need you to take a deep breath for me, honey, I want you to try and fill your lungs with air”.

“I’m trying, it’s just seasonal illness, it’ll be ok”.

“What are you talking about?” Bucky asks, not letting go of your face but just moving in closer.

“It’s just seasonal”, your words began to slur as you became incoherent.

Steve finally descended the stairs with just as much purpose as Bucky as he demanded to know what was going on but Bucky couldn’t answer him as he continued to talk to you and keep you awake. “It’s not seasonal, you’re not breathing properly, it’s not-”. Bucky was leaning so close that he was able to smell your breath and he froze, it looked like he now wasn’t even breathing.

“What is it Bucky?” Steve demanded, kneeling next to him and reaching over to take your hand but also feel your pulse, which only made his own increase with worry.

Bucky leans closer and smells your mouth again, so close that you tried to move away as his nose nudged your lips. “What did you eat?” Bucky asked in a tone that forced your eyes to open with concern.

“Huh? Um just my soup”, you say whilst blinking quickly as he still wouldn’t come into focus.

“Soup? Where is it? Where’s the container?” before you could answer, he was on his feet and running into the kitchen as Steve continued to demand answers from his boyfriend, his hand now moving from your wrist to directly over your heart, continuing to count the beats.

Bucky cursed so violently that it actually made you shrink into the cushions but the movement only made you cough more and chest tighten as you struggled to breathe. He returned to the room, his face a deathly white and green shade as he uttered just one word: “Hemlock”.

There was just one brief second where not a body in the room breathed or even moved, one single second to process the poison that Bucky had spoken, the planet that he only knew about because of his time as the Winter Soldier and using it on his target. The poison that he could now smell on your breath, that originated from your container of soup.

It was Sam to speak first, Sam to snap the two men out of their frozen states as he gave the orders from Doctor Banner who had heard the word over the phone. “We need to get her to a hospital right now”.

Steve picked you up, and his entire body began to tremble with adrenaline and fear as no one even stopped to properly dress for the snow outside, only putting their shoes on before rushing to the car. Sam thankfully was able to use the adrenaline to remain headstrong as he climbed into the driver’s side of the car so that Steve and Bucky could both hold you in the back seats and try and keep you awake.

You were lying with your head in Steve’s lap with your body lying across Bucky’s as they clamped their arms around you as makeshift seatbelts. You had heard the word that Bucky had said and even though you knew what it was, you didn’t want to believe it, even as you continued to feel worse. “It’s not poison, it’s just soup”.

However, those words triggered something within your throat and once more you were coughing so hard that you thought you were going to vomit and cringed as metallic warmth filled your mouth and leaked out of the corner of your lips.

You slumped onto Steve and Bucky, head lulling back but Steve was quick to grab your face, tapping it and forcing you to stay awake, “Baby don’t go to sleep! Please stay awake for me! Stay with us, we’ll be at the hospital soon, I promise”.

You were scared, even though you were half-conscious, you were terrified now realising the severity of the situation, knowing that you were coughing up blood which was now soaking the front of Steve’s shirt and hearing how panicked your boyfriends were only made it worse. Through all the scary, dangerous times in your life, they always remained calm and in control but now they were both frantic and frightened.

As all three men continued to plead with you to stay awake, you forced yourself to open your eyes, only allowing yourself the luxury of blinking occasionally as you kept looking into Steve’s ocean-blue eyes. With his body and face so close to yours, you used him to ground you in the situation, trying to copy his breathing which had slowed since you’d opened your eyes; ignoring the pain from the breaths and resisting the urges to cough even though blood continued to fill your mouth.

“Am I going to die?” you whisper, not being able to ignore the questions now in the back of your mind anymore.

Steve’s breath hitched for a second before he tried to confidently whisper, “No, you’re not going to die”.

You didn’t believe him, especially as the trip to the hospital was delayed by the snow, every second feeling like it could be your worse, you didn’t want it to end like this.

“I love you.”

“You’re going to be ok, just keep looking at Steve, keep breathing”, Bucky pleaded, squeezing your freezing cold hand.

“Please, just say it back”, your voice was hardly audible anymore as your mouth was so full of blood.

“Stop talking and save your energy for when you’re feeling better”, Bucky tried to keep his composure but you knew he was close to snapping.

Your breaths were wet and laboured, wheezing so violently it rattled and echoed around the car but you still managed to plead, “Say it back-”.

“I love you, I love you so fucking much, please don’t leave me, baby”. Steve snapped first, his eyes were wide, fearful and yet beautiful with how stark the blue was as his eyes filled with tears, leaking down his cheek and into his beard.

You were thankful, for both of them, for everything and you wish you could have told them, wishing that you could have heard Bucky’s own declaration of love and adoration for you but the pounding of your heartbeat became so loud in your head that you couldn’t hear anything anymore.

But you continued to hold on, never once looking away from those pretty eyes of Steve’s as Sam finally screeched to a halt outside of the hospital. Once more, Steve carried you and there was a flurry of people in different coloured scrubs suddenly surrounding you as you were placed onto a cold bed.

One moment you were staring into Steve’s eyes and the next you were looking up at a stranger and the comfort you’d once felt, the thing that was grounding you to life was now gone and you couldn’t find him again, no matter how much you moved on the bed, even as the strangers poked and prodded at your body until you couldn’t deal with it anymore and finally closed your eyes.

Do you ever have those naps where you wake up and forget where you are, or what time or day it is? That was currently how you felt except the added sensation of floating encompassed your body as well. The only sort of normality felt throughout your body was a cool feminine hand stroking across your temple in a soothing, repetitive manner.

Your toes wiggled firstly and then your eyes behind your eyelids and even though you knew who was stroking your forehead, you still croakily asked, “Steve? Bucky?”

“It’s just me Sugar” Natasha sounded calm and peaceful as her fingers didn’t stop with their soothing motions. “The boys are going to be so pissed that you’re awake before they’ve got back”.

You huff and dared to open your eyes, grunting at the brightness of the room but thankfully your eyes adjusted and only one, still, Natasha smiled down at you. Seeing that you weren’t going to vomit or freak out, Natasha sat back in her chair, moving to hold onto your hand to give you some comfort. “You gave us a real scare”.

You thought back to everything that happened, some of it was a blur but most of it still played through your mind like a horror movie that you couldn’t look away from or escape. “Was I really poisoned?”

There was one thing that you appreciated about Natasha and that was her blunt honesty, not one to ever sugarcoat her words, “You were”.

“But… But how? I mean… the soup, Rafael, he wouldn’t-”. You stopped yourself talking, trying to envision all the interactions you’d had with him but only one thing repeated through your thoughts: Don’t trust anyone. That was one of the first rules Steve had taught you. “I don’t understand why? He seemed so nice to me, is his name even Rafael? Was everything a lie?”

“That’s what they’re just finding out. Apparently, the friend of a friend rouse was made up including his credentials, usually, our background checks are very thorough but he had some help to slip through the cracks”.

“Do you know what help he had? Who it was, I mean?”

Natasha for once seemed to think before she spoke which unnerved you, knowing that whoever’s name she spoke next wouldn’t be good news.

The monitor displaying your heartbeat began to beep as it increased with the dread that was settling through your body.

“All signs are currently pointing to Pierce”.

Your eyes closed as you tried to remember how to breathe. You knew about Alexander Pierce. Everyone did. He was ruthless and had plenty of finances and power to pay for his success but not only this, he had been one of the top employees of Hydra and usually in charge of the Winter Soldier. So yes, you all knew a lot about Alexander Pierce and his name was one to send fear through any of those involved in the Rogers mafia, even Steve.

As you opened your eyes again to look at Natasha, you could tell she wanted to tell you more but was holding the information to not panic you further but you needed to know. “Please just tell me whatever it is you’re not telling me”.

“We think he paid this guy to come and spy on Steve and Bbucky and it seems he put his sights on you. Specifically.. Because you’re their biggest weakness and it seemed like everyone knows that”.

Your face warmed with fear and anger, as fear prickled the corner of your eyes, “So what, now I’m not even safe in my own home?”

“That’s not-” Tasha began to lean forward in her seat but another voice cut her off.

“No, you weren’t safe in your own home”. Steve stood at your hospital room door, dressed casually in a black shirt and jeans, looking nothing out of the ordinary but his face was wrath of calm and anger. Your eyes snapped from him to Bucky who had looked just as serious but as your eyes connected with his, the hard lines of his face smoothed out into a weak smile.

The two of them step into the room as Natasha stands, informing everyone that she’d give us some space and guard the door.

You’re trying desperately to keep the tears at bay, to keep them from slipping and cascading down your cheeks, not wanting your boyfriends to feel any more guilt but as you took a deep breath in, a sob erupts through you and you can’t keep the emotions back anymore.

You attempted to hide your face with your hands, even with the added difficulty of having tubes and wires attached to the backs of your hands and the tips of your fingers. The realities of everything that had happened began to destroy any hope that you had. You’d nearly died, in your own home where you were supposed to be most safe.

Steve and Bucky sat on either side of your hospital bed, moving silently as they always did and with careful ease, gently took a hand each and pried them away from your face, stroking away any tears that continued to escape.

“I’m sorry, I just- I don’t know… It’s a lot”, you tried to give reason for your crying, even though it was unnecessary. Bucky tilted your face towards him, his voice was so soft and caring that it nearly made you sob with how careful he was being with you, “Don’t apologise for crying, I tell you this all the time, Doll”.

You offered him a wet giggle, taking a few deep breaths before rambling on with your anxiety, “I bet I look like a right mess right now, I don’t even know how long I’ve been asleep for”.

They let you calm yourself down before Steve praises with his low captivating voice, “You always look beautiful, no matter how much snot is on your face”. He smiles as he manages to make you laugh before he turned serious, “It’s been 5 days, baby”.

Your face drops, “5… I’ve been asleep for 5 days?!”

“You passed out when we arrived and when they could finally stop the bleeding you-”

“Bleeding?” you questioned, remembering you were bleeding from the mouth but it didn’t seem like that much.

“The poison you’d ingested that day was a higher dose and caused internal bleeding. After they were able to stabilise you, they needed to detox you from the poison and make sure your body was healing so it was safe to keep you asleep”.

You tried to process everything that Steve had told you, it felt confusing for you to have been through so much and yet feel such little pain in your body.

As if reading your mind, Bucky once again captivated your attention as he asked, “How are you feeling? Are you in pain?”

“No I’m not in any pain but I feel wrong like my body is floating in the water or something”.

“That might be due to the medications that they’ve got you on, they’re pretty strong Sweetheart”, his pet name helped to calm your disorientated mind, clinging on to the familiarity and focusing on the way both of their hands were holding yours and stroking tiny circles in your skin,

“Did you get the answers you wanted, from Rafael, or whatever his name is”.

Steve and Bucky shared a glance between each other but Steve decided to be the one to answer. “We got the answers, it was as Nat was explaining. Pierce wanted someone in the gang, spying and getting as close to us as possible and I guess they somehow managed to weasel their way in and tried to succeed with their plan to hit our weak spot”.

You took a deep breath to try and reduce the rising anxiety in the pit of your stomach before asking tentatively, “So what happens now? With Pierce I mean.”

“That’s a problem for another time, just need you to get better first”, Bucky interjected, lifting your hand to kiss the few fingers that were attached with clips or wires.

You tried to smile at him, wanting him to know how much you appreciate him but the feeling never met your eyes and this seemed to twist something in Steve and Bucky. Both of their demeanours changed, no longer were you looking at just your boyfriends but also the mafia boss and his second in command, mixing business with family.

Bucky began talking first, tone strong and husky, “This isn’t something we are taking likely. Sam’s already spent the last day and a half revisiting everyone’s past, making sure there are no other moles that have slipped through the cracks. No new faces are allowed anywhere near our home or you.”

As he spoke, you managed sure to nod your head and try to squeeze his hand in understanding. Steve shifted in his chair, capturing your attention as he continued the discussion. “You are safe and you should have been safe but we let you down, you were vulnerable when we weren’t there to protect you like we promised we would. We let you down, we broke our promise, we could understand if you didn’t want-”.

“Whatever you’re about to say you better forget about it right now”, you say sternly, heartbeat beginning to race on the monitor again as Steve’s mouth shut quickly with a snap. “The idea of being your weakness has always frightened me but, I could also be your greatest strength. I mean - Look at what you’ve been going just to protect the house, to protect me. I know you feel like you’ve let me down but I don’t feel let down in any way. Yes, of course, what’s happened is scary, especially in our home but I doubt it’ll ever happen again. They can try and tear us apart, they can try, but they won’t break us, they can’t break us. We have to remain on top ok? I always feel safe and trusted when I’,m with you both so please, don’t ever feel like I'm not because I am. I’ll always love you both, I’m not going anywhere”.

You sucked in air greedily after your short speech, the building emotions spilling freely everything you truly believed to the men beside you, not wishing for them to ever feel doubt for the relationship or how you felt.

Looking between them both, your heart sank as you noticed Bucky quickly wipe the corner of his eye. “I thought you said no more tears”, you spoke softly whilst trying to wipe away a stray tear.

“That’s before you decided to swoon me with your speech”, he quipped back, the light returning to his eyes once more as you laughed.

“I love you Bucky”.

“I love you, Doll”, standing from his chair, his metal hand stroked over the side of your face as he captured your lips with his, lingering for a few beautiful seconds before sitting back down.

Steve had lifted your hand during your speech and was kissing your palm and you reached out to stroke his beard, “I love you, Steve”.

He too stood, just as Bucky had but he kissed your forehead first, breathing you in for a moment before doing the same against your lips. “I love you too, so much baby”.

As Steve sat back down, your eyes began to feel heavy, all of the strong emotions exhausted you completely. “Will you both be here when I wake up? Not that I’m complaining about Natasha but she doesn’t spoon me like you both do”.

They both chuckle under their breath before Steve promises, “We aren’t going anywhere, sleep, Sweetheart”.

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

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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 8 months

Text

Spawn

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: y/n death & resurrection, Astarion being in his feels, smidge of angst but mostly just hurt comfort fluff

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You writhed in pain on your bedroll. Astarion and Shadowheart moved quickly, taking off your armor. Karlach kept her hand pressed firmly over the gushing wound on your thigh. Gale, Shadowheart, and Wyll all tried to muster their powers; you could see it in their eyes. The battle against the Murder Tribunal was as close as you’ve come to dying. You could feel your cracked ribs shift every time you tried to suck in a breath. The arrow hole in your thigh was pulsing. And the slash across your chest was the most concerning as it was rather deep. Nothing vital cut but your severed flesh needed to be reunited ASAP. Your head was spinning and everything felt fuzzy and overwhelming. You wanted to scream, it was all too much. You looked sickly, the blood loss becoming more apparent by the minute. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. You slowly turned your gaze to Astarion. He looked so scared, you had never seen that emotion across his face. You tilted his head up a bit with a weak hand.

You smiled the best you could as you studied him. Your vision was going in and out of focus, you felt so light. “So beautiful… little star…” you slurred as you watched his eyes water.

“Somebody fucking do something!” Astarion yelled. He heard your heart slowing down and it was the worst sound he’d heard in 200 years.

When your eyes fluttered closed and you stopped mumbling to him; when he heard your heart go still. Everyone stopped their movements, knowing you were gone. Eyes fell upon Astarion but his were glued to you.

“Darling… wake up, let’s go home… you’re so cold we need to get you warm.” He rubbed his frigid hands up and down your arms trying to warm your lifeless corpse. “Please my love… don’t leave… I don’t want to be alone again…” tears cascaded down his cheeks. He pulled you into him, rocking you both back and forth as he sobbed into your hair.

——————————-

Astarion sat in the tent with you, everyone leaving him to grieve. He wanted to pray to any gods who would listen but he knew what a waste of time that was. His throat was dry, it’s all he could feel physically. And he hated the fact that your bloodied corpse smelt delicious to him. He pulled you back into him. He kissed over your neck before begrudgingly sinking his teeth in. He knew this was wrong but he also knew he was weak and needed strength to bring you back. An idea settled in his mind as he sucked your frozen crimson into him. He pulled away abruptly. He bit into his wrist, wincing at the pain a bit. He let his blood, his poison drip into your mouth.

“Come on… work damn you…” he said, pleading with everything he had in him. You remained motionless. Astarion stood on shaky legs, he felt sick he couldn’t be in the same room as you right now. He failed you and it was devouring him. He walked out of the tent, leaving you.

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You awoke with a start, sitting upright. You weren’t breathing, your heart wasn’t beating. What was this? Every sense of yours felt dialed to eleven. It was difficult to think, your mind flitting everywhere. Above all you felt your throat and how it was constricting, dry as a desert. You felt compelled to hunt, your jaw ached. Your head felt cinched with pressure and you had no idea why.

“Come back to me.” A voice echoed in your head, it was a command and before you knew it your legs were taking you somewhere. Nobody saw you leave your tent as they had all turned in for the night. Astarion however was perched down near the lake. Gazing across it, soft sniffles and sobs escaped him as you creeped up behind him.

“Star…” you whispered.

He whipped around, legs fumbling for traction and he raced to you, pulling you into a hug. “Thank the gods you’re alright!” He said as he kissed your cheeks.

“Something’s wrong…” you said, voice cracking.

His eyebrows furrowed, “What’s wrong little love?” That’s when he saw it. Your eyes, dark yet with glowing irises. Just like that of a vampire spawn. You had defeated Cazador two days ago, Astarion had no master. He was a full vampire. His desperate plea was living before his eyes and he had no idea what to make of it.

“I’m a spawn…” you whispered looking up at him. He could hear the pain in your words.

“I didn’t think it would work! I just… I had to try and save you…” he defended.

You absorbed what he said before you spoke, “And what now? I belong to you? Obey you?” You spat the word “obey”.

Astarion laughed to himself ever so slightly before biting into his already healed wrist. You immediately reached for him, sucking down gulps of him, feeling powerful. Astarion had to practically rip you off of him.

“I’m sorry.” You said as you rolled the last of his thick blood over your tongue. A warmth settled in your stomach before you became permanently cold.

“Now you’re not a spawn. You didn’t actually think I would keep you as my spawn did you?” He said with soft eyes.

You sighed, “What was it you told me? Vampires are power hungry creatures?… I… I was just scared. I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“Don’t be, I would have thought the same.” He pulled you in, kissing your head as you leaned against his chest. It was so quiet between the two of you. No breaths, no heart beats.

“I’m still scared…” you whispered.

“Of what little love?” He asked, leaning back so he could gaze at you.

“Being a vampire… what if I hurt somebody?” You ask in a hushed tone.

“It is entirely possible given the line of work we are in…” he said, trying to make you smile.

You cracked a small smile but concern never left your eyes.

“You’ve got this darling, and I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you, always.” He spoke, holding your cheeks and keeping his eyes locked with yours.

You nodded, hands coming up to hold his wrists as he kissed your forehead.

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Naboo's Note:

Hello! Thank you all for 200 followers! What a milestone! I'm absolutely thrilled and beyond thankful. I really enjoy writing for you guys, its become a great comfort and a great hobby. As always, thank you for the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests! XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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earthry · 1 year

Note

Can i ask for papas who told reader to not get attached to them and had secret relationship, until they realised 'oh... I think i was wrong' ?(bonus point for them being jealous, because another sibling flirting with reader)

Thank you and sorry if i bother you🥺❤

Of course you can!! Thank you for the prompt it was so delicious aslkdf it kind of got away from me but hopefully this was what you were looking for 💕

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, manipulation (not from any papas), happy endings for all regardless

Primo

Primo is gentle about telling you not to get attached.

"Don't get too comfortable, little flower." "Remember my rosebud, this is temporary." "We are not exclusive, my morningstar."

He thinks he's doing a kindness by always reminding you that things between the two of you are casual, making sure you're aware that you are just one of many in his garden of plenty.

I think he’d be a little more aware of his growing feelings than any of his brothers, but still catches it too late. By the time he realizes he can’t bring himself to call things off or put some distance between the two of you.

He realized just how much he loves having you by his side. Not just as a lover, but as a companion and a friend. Someone to talk about plants and books to, someone who cares about him enough to swing by the garden often with a snack and water to hydrate when he’s been working under the sun for too long.

The first time you fall into bed together since his realization, he doesn’t remind you about the nature of your relationship, and you’re too nervous to ask until after. He’s cleaned up and slips under the covers with you before pulling you into his arms — he probably doesn’t do this too often because it feels vulnerable. You feel your heart pounding and timidly ask him what’s going on.

“I think I’ve made a grave mistake.” You stiffen and he soothes you, “Not you, never you, tesoro.”

He admits his feelings for you, and you get teary and blubber that you feel the same and he asks you for your forgiveness, taking your hand in his and pressing the softest, most gentle kiss to the back of it.

You two haven’t quite made it official yet, wanting to ease into things naturally— however when he sees a sibling-in-sin flirting with you boldly, he steps in with a growl, the most aggressive you’ve ever seen him before.

“Perhaps you weren’t aware, but here at the ministry, we keep filthy hands off what isn’t ours.” He has a possessive arm around your waist and leans into to brush his lips against your brow.

“I’m sorry I’m late, my petal.” His voice is so much softer when he addresses you, “Is this stronzo bothering you?”

The sibling-of-sin quickly stammers their apologies and scampers off, and before you can really even process what just happened, his lips are on yours. He kisses you hungrily, claiming you as his in the open courtyard where everyone can see.

When he eventually pulls back, your lips are red and swollen to his satisfaction and you give him a look to which he gives you another kiss but it's a much more tame peck this time. "Mi dispiace amore mio. I just couldn't help myself."

Secondo

Secondo was your first-- something you gave to him freely despite his clear warning before taking you to bed.

Still you had your sights set and the idea of taking your innocence was too delicious to Secondo to decline. You weren't the first one he'd corrupted, and you wouldn't be the last (as painful as it is to think about it, you're very keenly aware of this fact).

For your first time, he was the perfect lover, considerate and slow, coaxing you to open up for him in ways you never thought to give to another man. He takes you like you're lovers and it does nothing for the growing feelings you've been having for him as of late except now you know what it feels like to be wrapped up in his arms, now you know how it feels to have his lips on yours, how it feels to take him inside you, to feel so full of him that you see stars.

For him, you're just another conquest, another sibling-in-sin he's deflowered and another body to pull into bed on lonely nights. He usually doesn't think much of it. He has all his bases covered after all. He makes sure of it, reminding his partners that they are not the only ones, that they are here to have fun.

He may not party as much as he did in his youth, but when he did there would always be someone new on his arm and someone new he'd take to bed.

In a way he knows it's also to protect himself, he knows that most if not all of them are vying for Papa's attention, for Papa's favor. Not Secondo's.

He knows it's the Ministry's fault primarily, for twisting him into this shape, for building such a reputation in his image to where he is now. But despite the resentment he feels he can't help the desires that are conditioned into him for this lifestyle.

He doesn't let people in easily as a result, but with you it was almost inevitable.

You had been so shy when he had taken you that first time. Not that you weren't eager, but he was so used to other siblings being sly and seductive, wanting him to do the honors so they would have a story to give when all was over.

You however, were so anxious and timid as he laid you out onto the bed that he couldn't help but reassure you. At first he thought perhaps it was an act, but judging how tight you were wound up, he knew you had to be genuinely nervous. He was extra gentle with you, more than he had ever been with anyone before, and oh, the small smiles you gave in his direction when he comforted you were addicting.

He doesn't normally do repeats, doesn't like taking the same person to bed more than a handful of times but with you he just couldn't help himself.

There was something new to learn about you each time, and soon your relationship evolved to something more than just in the bedroom.

It started small; a book you quoted he recognizes that turns into an hour long conversation about the author's greatest and not so greatest works. Stopping by his office during the day to offer coffee or a short break to discuss literature.

He starts looking forwards to your visits, to those little moments before or after he's taken you to bed. But one thing he's always kept firm on is that you never stay the night.

It's his one rule he's maintained for years to keep feelings and sex separate and it's always worked. You don't particularly know about this rule of his however, so when you finally ask if you can stay the night with him, you feel like you've been brought back to earth with his rejection.

You only have yourself to blame really. He had always said from the very beginning not to get attached. It was your fault for thinking that after the two of you had gotten a little closer that maybe, just maybe things had changed. You were wrong.

Secondo feels terrible for telling you no, but he has his rules for a reason. However, that night as he lays in bed alone he can't help imagining what it would be like to hold you in his arms, to tuck you against his chest and feel your heartbeat firm against his.

Secondo is a smart man, and he knows when he's made a mistake. He resolves to make it up to you in the morning, to pull you aside and set things straight. It had taken time for him to realize how he felt for you but now that he does, he doesn't intent on letting you go.

Unfortunately for him, he can't seem to find you all day, and in the evening he asks around and manages to find some of your friends who tell him that you had not been feeling good.

He feels a pang of guilt for being so harsh with you last night, and asks where your room is.

When he finds you, you're being comforted by a sibling-in-sin. You've been crying on and off all day and right now you're in one of your low moods as the sibling holds you in their arms.

"You should forget about him, he doesn't deserve you." The sibling soothes, "He doesn't care about you like I do, I would treat you so well."

Yeah, Secondo does not like that one bit. First of all, the possessiveness he feels seeing you in someone else's arms, but also manipulation in the form of comfort to someone at their lowest is something he doesn't condone.

Things happen fast and suddenly you're in his arms pressed against his chest as he holds you bridal style. The sibling looks shocked and a little shameful when Secondo sneers at him. "Cazzo di merda, I don't think so. If I ever see you near them again, I will tear you to pieces from limb to limb." His mismatched eyes flash dangerously, and the sibling immediately books it.

He then looks down to you in his arms, his gaze softening as he takes in your red eyes and puffy cheeks. "Amore mio," he presses a kiss to your forehead. "We have much to talk about, including my apology for being so foolish last night."

He takes you to his room where sits against the headboard with you still tucked in his arms. He doesn't let go or put you down even once.

"Mi dispiace, tesoro. I should not have said no last night."

You are quiet for a long time, and he can't help the nervousness that begins to crawl under his skin. "Yeah, you were kind of an asshole." You finally say.

He can't help the chuckle that escapes but agrees with you. "Mm, si I was an asshole, wasn't I? Will you allow me to try making it up to you, amore mio? We can start over, do this right."

"Start... over?" You sound hesitant, unsure what he means until he kisses your temple again.

"Si, although start anew is probably a better term." He reaches to take your hand in his before pressing a kiss to the back. "I promise to treat you right this time, as a proper lover, a proper partner.”

Your cheeks tint pink at the gesture and you nod slowly before cautiously asking, “Okay but… will we be exclusive? Cause I don’t think I can if we aren’t. I can’t… I don’t want to be just another one of your playthings.”

“Tesoro, yes of course we’ll be exclusive. You are not just one of my playthings, you are so much more. You are my heart, and I need my heart to live, si?”

He presses a gentle kiss to your temple and guides your hand over his heart, “Amo te e nessun altro.”

Terzo

I love Terzo to bits and this got a little angsty on his side. I hope I didn't make it too OOC but please enjoy!

With Terzo, it's not a surprise that he has no shortage of lovers. Especially favorites, he has many and amongst them is you. It was the first thing he told you before he bedded you for the first time: don't get attached. And honestly? You knew better.

Still didn't keep you from falling helplessly in love with him, though.

For Terzo, it was rare that anyone ever stayed the night; once they came for what they wanted, they would leave. When he was a younger man it was a devastating realization to make, that he would only ever be an object of seduction, only ever be a conquest and never a true lover. Now though, he's worked hard to build those walls around him, numb himself from the knowledge of knowing to never get attached.

"Do not get attached," was not for you, it was never for you-- you'll come to realize. It was for him. A reminder each time he brings another eager sibling-of-sin to bed, a caution each time a fan offered him 'a night he'll never forget'.

The first night you stay, Terzo writes off as a fluke. A blessing, but a fluke nonetheless. You had fully expected him to say no, to ask you to leave as always. Instead, he had looked a little caught off guard, an expression that rarely crossed his features. "Um... stay the night? Si, of course-- of course! Make yourself comfortable, caro, I'll be just a moment. I get towel to wipe us off, si?"

You don't really think much of it when he seems not to know how to lay next to you, unsure where to put his arms to sleep comfortably, and you quite blatantly ask him if he's done this before. Which he immediately lies and says yes, and then deflates when you don't look convinced and mumbles that no, not really. He hasn't done this before.

You're sad for him-- and you make it a mission to give him the best snuggle session of his life.

And honestly? Just one time and Terzo's completely hooked on you. He doesn't get his hopes up (he knows better than that now), but he does quietly tell you that he hopes that the two of you could maybe do this again sometime. You smile and nod, and ask him if he's free tonight and once more there's that surprised look.

It doesn't become a nightly thing, but it almost does. The first time you come to his room before bed, asking him if you could sleep with him that night, his eyes get large and wide. There was no sex that night, just him in your arms as you showed him what spooning was (he was the little spoon of course).

Months later he's hopeful but too anxious to ask you if the two of you were more than just friends with benefits. In the end, it takes jealousy for him to finally do what he's been wanting to do for a long time.

You're in the cafeteria talking with another sibling-of-sin that is obviously trying to chat you up; leaning in close, eyes flickering to your lips and down your body.

Terzo feels his body get hot, his jaw set straight and firm. He knows he's jealous, he can feel the white hot heat that runs through his veins as someone else tries to take what is his. He manages to stay calm enough not to storm over, talking himself down in his head when movement catches his eye.

The sibling flirting with you makes a comment, and points to a smudge of sauce on your cheek. You look confused and they say something, which you wipe your hand over your mouth, but not quite getting the sauce.

Terzo is moving before the sibling even finishes wiping your cheek with their thumb, his hand curling tight around the sibling's wrist and yanking them away from you.

"Keep your hands to yourself, si?" He snarls, "She's mine."

The cafeteria goes silent and the sibling apologizes very quickly, blabbering about how they didn't realize you were taken, by papa no less, and promising to never bother you again. They flee and stiffly Terzo tells all the onlookers to go back to their own business.

As conversation begins to pick up again and his rage boils down, he feels a flash of embarrassment and shame-- turning to you to apologize for so many different things.

Your lips are on him before he can even get words out, kissing him feverishly and without abandon. He whimpers a little, his hands flying up to hold your waist, gasping for air when you finally pull back.

"Mm, perhaps we should take this to the bedroom, si?" He's breathless, looking down at you and you grin, running your fingers against the soft fabric of his robe. You give him his answer to which he nods with hope in his eyes.

"Sounds like a plan-- but I don't share either, okay?"

Copia

Ah. Copia. My scrunkly little rat man. My little meow meow. My itty bitty blorbo.

You had gotten to know him before he was a cardinal. I'm a sucker for childhood friends to lovers for Copia specifically for some reason so here we are again.

If felt very much that it was the two of you against the world back then. Both of you young adults starting from the bottom trying to climb up to the top for at least some kind of recognition.

There are countless nights spent in his room, squeezed onto that tiny bed of his and lounging around, watching him play his video games. Sitting on the floor and fiddling with guitars and sheet music. Leaning against the door frame as he ran around trying to look for a pair of matching socks (that weren't one of the ridiculously patterned ones you gifted to him for Christmas each year) for a formal event.

Perhaps it was only natural for you two to fall into bed together, helping each other blow off steam. Copia had suggested it; albeit a little shyly and awkwardly. It could help relieve stress, besides it wasn't as if there was anyone at the abby that interested either of you anyways (though that was probably a sign).

And what were you to do? Say no to the man you loved?

So you two became friends with benefits; though the friend part always seemed to come first and foremost. You knew you were important to Copia and that was enough. At least at that time you had thought it would be enough.

When he became cardinal, the two of you got to spend less and less time together. He was often on errands or doing work for Sister Imperator. Still, you would occasionally slip into his room to curl around him for comfort and he would hold you close and murmur how he was happy to see you.

When he became papa, that's when things between the two of you started going downhill. You were proud and happy for him, but you hadn't expected him to change. They weren't huge changes; deep down you knew he would always be the same Copia you've known, but there were changes that you didn't know how to handle.

For Copia, it was the power rush. The idea that people were falling over themselves to sleep with him, to be with him. Though it had always been no strings attached, for the first time you were beginning to experience what it was like to not be the only one in his bed, in his life. For Papa, it was exciting, thrilling. For you, it was lonely, confusing, and heartbreaking.

At least it was a little easier to handle when he was on tour, when you didn't have to physically see him each and every day. But the way your timelines and dashboards would fill to the brim of updates, videos, clips and fans gushing about him and their latest ritual; some days you couldn't even bring yourself to pick up your phone. You didn't want to see footage of the most recent girl he cirice'd, you didn't want to hear the latest raunchy things he's flirted at the audience with.

The two of you still messaged occasionally; though it always felt surface level now. You messaged as often as you could but he rarely would hold any solid conversation. Perhaps he had felt you were too moody when it came to talking about his other flings, when it came to talking about the papa business. Regardless, he didn't reach out often anymore.

At some point, you decided it was perhaps time to move on and began looking into dating seriously. You hadn't really found anyone that interested you, anyone that didn't immediately make you think of how much you wished they were someone else (a certain rat loving dork).

Copia missed you. Every night of tour he would think of you. He would stare at his phone, stare at your messages and think and think and not know what to say. Things had become awkward and tense between the two of you since he became papa; and he knows its because of him. He just couldn't resist the taste of what it felt like being wanted for once (that's a lie and he knows it, he knows you have always wanted him). He was such an idiot, so full of himself, so high off of his newfound fame and achievements that he threw everything else out the door. That he might as well have thrown you out too. So. He had no idea what to say.

"I miss you?" "I wish you were here?" "I'm sorry I slept with other people, it felt like cheating on you even though I said no strings attached?" "I fucked a girl so hard last night she passed out but by satana I wished it was you?"

You were on another first dates of many first dates (that usually stayed first dates) when Copia and his ghouls returned shortly from the European tour. You had done your best to ignore the updates of when he would return; focusing on your date instead.

Just like the rest of the dates you went on, you weren't entirely that interested in this sibling-in-sin that had asked you out. The date wasn't going great in your opinion, but they apparently thought differently because as you were half heartedly trying to respond to some comment they made, they pulled you in for a kiss.

For a second, you didn't move out of shock and by the time your brain had caught up to what was happening, someone else was yanking the sibling off you, tossing them to the ground unceremoniously.

Copia looks furious. Despite being dressed in his casual sweats like he usually does on days off, he's intimidating with the low growl he throws in the direction of the sibling.

He takes a seat in the recently vacated spot next to you, leaning in to snake his arms around you, pulling you into his lap and against your chest.

"W-We're on a date, what the fuck?" The sibling has the balls to stand up to the papa, who gives him a cold glare.

"Chi se ne frega, not anymore you're not," His voice is rougher than you remember, and you shiver a little in his arms. He doesn't seem to take note, too preoccupied in staring down his competition. "Get lost."

You don't really hear what the sibling has to say in response, nor do you really pay attention to where they stomp off to. The only thing you're keenly aware of is the way your back is pressed flush against Copia's chest. You can feel not only your heart pounding, but his too. As soon as the sibling is out of sight, he relaxes against you, his arms loosening a little but still firm.

You're confused to say the least-- unsure what just happened, unsure why he's holding you like he never wants to let go. You feel him gently brush his lips against your temple before murmuring to you.

"Mi dispiace, amore mio. I was a fool, a complete coglione. Please forgive me."

Your heart flutters in your chest, hope unfurling its wings like a butterfly. "C-Copia."

"Amo te e solo te. Prometto." He turns you in his arms and you go willingly. He leans so that your foreheads touch, his eyes meeting yours.

"No one else?" You whisper. He nods a little, forgetting for a moment that your foreheads are connected, bumping into you a little and causing you to giggle. The sound of your joy seems to drain any tension left in him and he whispers back, breathlessly.

"No one else, tesoro. Just you."

881 notes · View notes

mimikittysblog · 5 months

Text

TXT when Someone Badmouths You

Pairing: OT5! TXT x Fem! Reader

Genre: Slight angst, fluff. Hurt to comfort.

Synopsis: How the boys would react when they hear and see someone badmouthing you, their lovely girlfriend.

Warnings: Some jerks bullying you for different reasons. Implied chubby reader for Yeonjun and Soobin, and somewhat body shaming for theirs too. I think that’s it? Please let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: Guess who made this instead of their thesis??? Meeeeeee! Anyways hope you guys enjoyed this, especially cause I made it on the fly. Also got a bit carried away with beomgyus lol

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

Yeonjun

Yeonjun decided to go out to take you shopping being the fashonistas you two are. While you’ve always loved clothes and fashion, it was always a bit of a struggle to find your size here in Korea, no actually it was a pretty big struggle, but Yeonjun never minded.

He just wanted to spend time with you and spoil you with whatever you wanted. If the store didnt have your size he’d just look for it online or actually have it custom made. Just for you. Whatever you wanted, its yours in less than a week. You were always grateful for that.

However it still bothered you a bit. It was also always quite embarrassing when you have to walk out of the dressing room to tell him the biggest size didnt fit you. It also doesn’t help when the store clerks are not so subtly or quietly poking fun at you.

“I don’t know why she even tries”

“I know right? Why is he even with her?? Like he clearly takes care of himself. Why can’t she do the same?”

“He deserves so much better.”

Yeonjun obviously heard it too, he isn’t deaf, nor blind cause he sees the looks they give you. He especially sees the small frown that you’re trying so desperately to hide.

“Hmm MY pretty baby” he says as he holds your cheek. “This store is not inclusive huh? How about we just leave and find a better store that values you more, hmm?”

“No yeonjun it’s ju-“

“Hush.” He cuts you off. “This store is clearly not a good one. Cause every good store should always carry beautiful people’s sizes which includes you and they must have RESPECTFUL. Staff too. Don’t you think so pretty baby?” He says as he leans into you.

“I-I guess..?” You say shyly, trying to ignore the harsh glares you’re getting.

“Well thats what I think baby. Come on! Lets find a better store and never come back here, okay beautiful?” He asks as he pats your head.

“Okay” you smile at him.

Before you two leave though, he pulls you in even closer and gives you such a passionate kiss, completely reassuring that he finds you so gorgeous and he doesn’t care what people say about you.

And without your knowledge he also opens his eyes to make eye contact and practically glare at the rude staff that was standing behind you. Seeing their reaction also causes him to smirk into the kiss.

He then pulls away and happily takes you away from that store. Constantly holding you close, to reassure you that he loves your body just the way it is, and he could never be ashamed of you, especially with how firmly and proudly he’s holding on to you.

“Thank you baby” you say as you snuggle into him.

“No one messes with my pretty baby. Remember that.” He said with his charming smirk.

Soobin

You literally only told him you think the weather feels perfect today, and he suddenly already had a picnic basket packed. So here you are now, at the park having a nice picnic with your lovely boyfriend. While he did pack some food from home, you two also went to your local bakery to pick up some of the most delicious bread and pastries ever. You kind of went overboard with how much you bought but you two wanted to have fun and enjoy your day with great food, if you still had some left you can easily bring them home. So it didn’t matter to the both of you.

That is until another couple who were also having a picnic nearby decided to stare at you and the large amount of food you two had. They were far enough to where you could barely hear what theyre saying, but unfortunately you could still hear. Even if you couldn’t the judgmental looks they gave you, and only you, said it all.

“Can you believe how much she’s eating?”

“Mhm. It’s just all pure carbs and sugar too.”

“Could she be anymore unhealthy? She’s eating so fast too.”

You were trying so hard to ignore it and were just about to take another bite of the croissant you got until you heard they made another comment and even laughed at you. You really did try so hard to ignore it and tried to take that bite but it just felt so humiliating. So you bit your lip and slowly put the croissant down. Soobin on the other hand quickly took the croissant again and put it back up to your mouth.

“Aaah!” He said smiling

“Oh.. Soobin I’m ful-“

“Don’t make me shove this in your mouth princess” he cut you off with another cheeky smile.

“Soobin..”

God the look in your eyes was so heartbreaking to him.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen okay? We also came here to have fun and eat well. I want you to eat well beautiful, and I also want you to have the happiest tummy ever. Please don’t let anyone stop you. Besides, good food makes you happy. And I also want you happy. So please.. Aaaah?” He said, staring straight into your eyes with the purest look ever.

How could you ever deny that? So with a smile you took the bite you did so desperately wanted. With that it made his smile even bigger. He then also took a bite. Since then he continues to feed you, showering you with encouragement and also continues to eat with you too to make you not feel alone. You could never feel alone with him, but he wanted to make sure you knew that.

“Thank you my love.”

“Of course darling”

By the end you were so incredibly happy and so was your tummy.

Beomgyu

It’s been a while since you had a date with your boyfriend due to your busy schedules. So when said schedules finally calmed down, you two were very excited to get to finally meet up at your favorite cafe and catch up. Unfortunately you were running a bit late so Beomgyu was already sitting and sipping at his coffee when you arrived. You quickly ordered before sitting down across from him.

“Beomieee! Oh I’m sorry!” You apologized

“It’s okay sweetheart, you’re here now and thats all that matters.” He said with his usual cheeky smile on his face.

The cafe was quite packed, so it was pretty noisy but you two were able to drown everything out with your conversations. You both missed each other very much. Due to the busy cafe it also took a while for your order to get done. By the time it was you and beomgyu decided to continue your date at a nearby park and have a nice walk. He had to use the bathroom first though, and you had to get your drink. So thats what you two did.

Unfortunately for you though, just after you got your drink, you accidentally slipped and caused your coffee to spill a little bit onto the shoes of a nearby customer.

“Oh my goodness I’m so sorry!! I didn’t mean to-“

“Are you fucking kidding me?!?! You bitch!!! These are brand new and now theyre ruined!”

“I didn’t mean to! I’ll pay to have them cle-“

“God you’re so fucking stupid! Didn’t you hear me they’re ruined! How can someone be so clumsy?! There wasn’t even anything there!! Fucki-“

“Oh sweetheart whats going on- WOOOOOAAHHHHH!!!” Beomgyu suddenly showed up out of nowhere and then (purposely and quite dramatically) fell and also spilled his coffee on this customer, though this time it spilled on the rest of their outfit too.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” They yelled and you could only cover your mouth in shock.

“Dang these floors are so slippery! don’t you think?? Everyone be careful okay!!” He chuckled as he still stayed there on the floor.

“Beomgyu are you okay??” You asked as you helped him up.

“Are you?” He asked concerned as he held onto you softly.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!? You just ruined my outfit!!!” This customer bellowed before you even had the chance to answer him.

“And you yelled at my lovely girlfriend for a simple accident. Listen, you have every right to be upset. it’s understandable. Hell she would’ve been upset if you did the same to her. However you had NO. Right to yell at her and talk to her the way you just did. She said she was sorry yet you still found it necessary to berate her in front of everyone. So yeah. I find it necessary to have the rest of your tacky outfit ruined. Even though what I did was an accident too.” He said with a smirk, clearly showing everyone who was still watching, that it was in fact NOT an accident.

“But yknow what? Here.” He explained before opening his wallet and throwing a good couple of bills at them. “Take this to go get those cleaned, or yknow, get better clothes that not only look better but wouldn’t be ruined by simple coffee. Come on my sweet.” He continued as he lead you to the door of the cafe.

And with that the both of you left.

“You okay darling?”

“Yea.. but you shouldn’t have done that beomie” you pouted at him. “I mean thank you! But ruining their outfit was-“

“Sorry to say sweetheart but I couldn’t care less about their outfit. Whoever is mean to my girl especially over something so trivial deserved that kind of treatment okay? I’ll always stick up for you my sweet. Never forget that. Plus, it waaaaas an accident” he said with his cheeky smile again. While you still felt a little bad, you could only chuckle and roll your eyes at this silly boy you call your lovely boyfriend.

“Thank you once again my prince” You said after giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“For whaaat? It was an accident!”

“Oh stop it!!” You laugh

“You’re welcome my sweet”

Taehyun

You were never the biggest fan of the gym, however you always note that it’s not that bad. It gets you healthier when you need to feel like it, gets you to get out of the house a bit more and best of all, you get to spend time with your gym rat of a boyfriend. Who you love to look at when he’s all sweaty.

You don’t come as often as he does, you only join him like about twice a week sometimes just once. Sometimes it’s even once a month but you still go occasionally. Just to fill in some gaps in your schedule. Furthermore because you’re not the biggest fan of the gym, you do usually only very light workouts, again just to get your heart pumping and muscles moving, and usually people don’t have an issue with that. You’re healthy and thats all that matters.

Yet for some reason some people decided to be very judgy today. Typically you always have your music playing to focus on yourself, but while you were taking a break and making light convo with your boyfriend, your ears couldn’t help but pick up the chatter of nearby gym goers that can’t mind their own business.

“She barely did anything here and she’s talking about leaving already?”

“And she wanted to get fried chicken too like dang that bare minimum of a workout is really gonna go to waste huh?”

“Why is she even here?”

Taehyun who was putting on his hand wraps to have his boxing training session also couldn’t help but hear and lets say he wasn’t pleased. You took notice of that and simply patted his shoulders.

“It’s fine baby” You smiled at him.

“They shouldn’t be saying that.” He grumbled

“Hey its whatever..” You said trying to reassure him, but also yourself. ‘Cause to be honest, you couldn’t help but start to feel maybe you should workout a bit harder.

“No. Here baby put these on.” He said as he suddenly gave you some hand wraps too.

“Tyunnie, it-“

“No come one, lets have some fun” he cut you off with a smirk.

And how could you say no to that?

While you and Taehyun didn’t share your love of workouts or gym equipments, what you did share was your love for martial arts, specifically boxing. While Taehyun mainly did it for its physical benefits, yours was its mental benefits. It was kinda fun throwing punches and showing your strength that way, a good way to get all your anger and frustrations out too.

Plus when you first started doing it you realized you kinda had a knack for it too. So with Taehyun’s encouragement, and some slight anger towards those comments, you put on your gloves and started sparing with him. And let’s just say your punches and kicks were LOUD. People from across the room could hear and kinda feel it.

But mainly you and Taehyun just had fun, he constantly reassured you that you were doing a good job, you still had it, and he’s happy you’re here with him. Once you two were done, even though you were exhausted you two became a giggly mess. You quickly packed up and left to go home and still order some nice delicious fried chicken.

“Thank you baby” You said as you fed him some chicken.

“No worries my strong princess” He chuckled.

Hueningkai

You and your boyfriend, Hueningkai, had many common interests, from movies to food, one of the cuter interests you two shared are plushies. You both just LOVE plushies. How fluffy they can be, how soft and squishy they are, their cuteness. Like whats not to love really? The amount of plushies you share is quite concerning but hey! They make you both happy!

Today you decided to go out to see a new movie that came out, but you still had some time before the movie started so you decided to look around the mall first. You had no destination in mind, just wanted to walk and talk with your boyfriend before, hopefully, enjoying this new movie.

However as you continued your stroll you came across a new store that had just opened and was filled to the brim with the cutest teddy bears you’ve ever seen, and they came in every size you can think of. From teeeeny tiny to massive teddy bears that fills the corner of the room. So without much thought and a huge gasp you dragged hueningkai inside to check it out.

Quite the understatement to say you were having a blast checking out all the adorable teddy bears they had. They even had clothes for these bears. However excited you were, you didn’t actually have the intention to buy any, but Hueningkai being the angel he is offered to get you one.

“Are you sure?”

“Oh come on its like you don’t know me. Come on I’ll get one for myself. Our teddy bears can be dating too!” He said with his angelic smile.

Now thats an offer you couldn’t refuse!

So you two picked out your teddy bears and dressed them in matching outfits. You then left making your way to the movie theater, as the movie would be starting soon, but you couldn’t stop giggling and hugging your bear. It was just so cute and fluffy. You still had your bear in your arms as you waited in line to get your snacks, when suddenly the people behind you started whispering.

“What a fricken weirdo.”

“I know right? What is she? 5??”

“Exactly! Like who the hell would willingly carry that around?”

“Why would you still even want one at her age?”

Then it was followed by snickers. It made you gulp and as much as you hate to admit it, embarrassed. You were never ashamed of your love for plushies but hearing that just isn’t nice. You started to slowly try to put your plushie back into the bag the store gave you, when Hueningkai gave your hand a firm squeeze.

“Oh look honey, it’s our turn. So what do you two want?

“I.. huh? Us two?” You looked at him confused.

“Yeah! You and this cutiepie! And what should I get him too?” Hueningkai explained as he pinched your cheek, the teddys nose and then pulled out his own too.

“O-oh!” You giggled before answering what you wanted, and just some gummies for the plushies.

“What a great idea!” He added before ordering, then carrying the snacks for you, and sweetly asking you to carry his teddy for him.

As you two made your way to your designated theater you did catch the judging eyes of the people behind you.

“You didn’t have to do that you know hyuka” You pouted.

“Do what?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

“You know.. now those people think you’re a weirdo too”

“Why should we care? I don’t feel like a weirdo for liking cute soft things, and neither should you honey. These things make us happy! I don’t think we’re weird for that, and hey if it is, lets be weirdos together hmm?” He said, again with that angelic smile and a cute raised eyebrow. And you know, he’s right.

“You’re right, these cuties do make us happy.”

“Mmmmhm! So lets go! The movie is about to start!”

“Okay! Oh! And thank you hyuka”

“Anything for my cutie”

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

218 notes · View notes

yoyoyokii · 7 months

Text

Avoidant

Zoro x Reader

was meant to be fluff, became angst kind to comfort to fluff?

Originally wrote this @mazzieboohoo in my notes app (a girls best friend) instead of sleeping BUT I workshopped it a bit more so here TAKE IT

I don't care if it doesn't make sense that's not my problem

2.5k words

༺｡° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. ° ｡༻

Avoidant.

That’s the best, and probably the only, way to describe your boyfriend right now. He seems to spend every waking moment prioritising his training, and while you aren't all that mad at having the opportunity to watch your EXTREMELY attractive lover show off his muscles as his sweat glistens deliciously beneath the harsh rays of the sun, you couldn’t help but worry about him. Okay… you were also beginning to get kind of - well, more than kind of - jealous at the way a stack of metal was getting more attention from Zoro than you were… no! You are a good girlfriend! So- Mainly you are worried.

Stress and conflicted feelings are gnawing at his heart, it's so obvious, even to Luffy, Mr Oblivious himself! It doesn't help that, in typical Zoro fashion, his choice of resolution is to suppress these emotions at all costs. This was probably the least desirable trait of his, apart from his shocking navigation skills obviously, and you just wish he wouldn't be so difficult when it came to things like this. The whole crew feels like they have to walk on eggshells around him, it's just tiring at this point. His attitude has been hard on everyone, especially for poor Chopper, who sees your boyfriend more-or-less as a father figure and is now convinced that Zoro hates him.

He isn’t himself when it comes to the nighttime either, in fact, this is now the part of the day that you dread the most. He has been making an unhealthy habit of clambering into your shared bed in the early hours of the morning, absolutely reeking of sake. He then becomes completely restless and spends those minimal hours of rest stirring about, keeping you awake while he's at it. Every night you beg him to talk to you about it, and every night he plainly tells you it’s nothing, and goes back to borderline ignoring you. You aren't quite sure what hurts more, the fact that he is ignoring you, or the fact that he is just straight-up lying to you.

“Hey, I’m sure he’ll be fine, you’re worrying too much” Nami manages to pull you out of your thoughts, smiling at you before sitting at your side. She joins you in enjoying the pleasantry of the summer breeze and you can’t help but pout a little at her words. She is right. She is always right.

“I’m not worried, just making sure he doesn’t hurt himself.” you lie, squinting your eyes as you look out at the sun setting beyond the horizon. The afternoon glare makes your head ache a little and you are sure that you're falling victim to, what is going to be, a painful sunburn. Oh well, that's a problem for your future self.

Nami huffs at your pathetic attempt at a lie, before swiftly changing the topic. She begins to talk about how perfect the upcoming weather is going to be for your travels to the next island or something. You know she is just trying to lighten the mood, but you can't really focus. Honestly, you feel nauseous, and there is now a growing pit of anxiety bubbling in the depths of your stomach. You begin to question if it's all your fault, that maybe you are the root cause of Zoro’s distress. This uneasiness spurs in your gut and becomes more unbearable, bile threatening to rise beyond its threshold. You begin to think about how the both of you had only really become official recently, after flirting back and forth for months, and how it had only been since then that he had been acting so… off-

“HEY- are you even listening to me?!?!" Nami yells as she nudges your shoulder. You pretend to draw back in pain, attempting to pull off some sort of comedic relief. It's more for yourself rather than to distract Nami from the fact that you didn’t hear a single thing she said (not paying her attention can be fatal...). BUT LUCKILY FOR YOU-

She just stands, grabbing at your arm to pull you up with her. She now holds your hand and leads the two of you back to everyone else. She utters something about dinner almost being ready and you can't help but to laugh as she enthusiastically declares that it is gonna be the most delicious thing you’re ever going to taste because she ever-so-kindly requested the dish herself. Yeah, she has definitely just used Sanji again to feed her cravings like the girlboss she is🤷

You couldn’t stomach dinner, no matter how delicious it was, and to sweet dear Sanji’s dismay you had to excuse yourself from the table. Unfortunately, the ease you previously felt from Nami’s presence disappeared as quickly as it appeared, and so you now find yourself sitting on the floor of the soldier deck.

The stars are abnormally bright tonight, the full moon stares back at you with a sort of glare that makes it feel as if it's empathising with you. You lean back against the Thousand-Sunny's railing and curl your legs up, hugging them against your stomach. As the breeze toys with the fallen strands of your hair and you gaze upwards into the night, you can’t help but wonder if the myth of cosmic love was true. You can’t help but wonder if you and Zoro shared this connection, or if it was all just a love of convenience for him.

It’s these strings of thought that bring you right back to the day that he had finally confessed to you. You reminisce on how you went to bed that night kicking your feet and smiling like an idiot to yourself. You remember thinking about your future with him, and how, when your heart finally began to calm and you dozed to sleep, you found yourself dreaming of everlasting love. Yes, it was embarrassing and childish, even you’ll admit it, but it was nice to finally feel wanted romantically, especially by someone as stoic and stone-faced as Zoro.

You can’t help but smile fondly, albeit a little sadly, at this memory. If only there was to be a shooting star, so that you can wish to go back in time to this moment, to relish in that feeling of giddiness for just a little longer.

Scouring the night sky for any glimmer of hope, or just for something to distract you from the heaviness adorning your chest, someone’s presence disturbs your failing attempt at finding peace.

Zoro.

He moves to sit with you. A weird sort of tension begins to hang so thickly in the air that you believe you might suffocate. You aren’t prepared for this sudden confrontation, for him to so casually approach you as if he hasn't been avoiding you for god knows how long. Before you can muster up the courage to finally break the silence and say something, he does it for you.

“I’m sorry.” His voice is firm and unwavering, almost intimidating yet somehow soft at the same time. It's as if he never actually intended to hurt you. You should be mad- no more than mad, borderline ready to fight him! After all this stress he caused you, he can only say sorry??? But no. You force yourself to be the bigger person.

“It’s alright.” You pause your thought, now turning your head to look at him. But before you can continue, he interrupts.

“No… it’s not alright” his brows furrow and he returns your graze, staring so deeply into your soul that it almost burns.

“Before you say anything. I need you to know that my shitty actions were not a result of anything you’ve said or done. okay? I know how you tend to overthink.” He breaks his intense eye contact to look down at his lap, almost like he’s hesitant, seemingly taking his time to formulate his next string of words in a way that wouldn’t make you feel guilty. Before he can continue to explain, he pauses. You know that he's expecting your usual snappy reply that's fueled with some snarky remark or joke. That's how you usually respond when a situation gets too serious for your liking. He knows what to expect from you, so when this awaited response never comes, he realises that you must be gathering your thoughts. And so, he decides to give you a few minutes.

He said he knows you. And it’s true, he knows you like no one else does. You really were just overthinking to the point that it was making you a complete mess. A tear of relief slips from your eye as you fight the urge to fully break down. You quickly go to wipe the tear away, but this action doesn’t go unnoticed by Zoro, of course it doesn’t.

“What? Is something wrong with your eye?” God he’s so daft sometimes. His question is so ridiculous that it almost makes you laugh. However, you just can’t control it anymore and more tears continue to flow.

“Hey- are you okay? Why are you crying?”

You feel too stupid and selfish to admit that he was the root cause of your tears, so of course, you lie. Again.

“Well… do you ever look at something so beautiful that it makes you want to cry? That’s how a full moon makes me feel, and it’s extra beautiful tonight…” you attempt to steady your breathing as you fake a smile towards him.

The warmth of his hand moves to sit against the side of your face as he uses his thumb to wipe away a new stream that's spilled over the curve of your cheek. The familiar feeling of his skin against yours is so comforting that it is his touch alone that begins to heal the uneasiness plaguing your heart. And so you lean further into him, welcoming this newfound sense of solace.

“Of course I do, that's how I feel whenever I look at you.”

It's this statement that constricts your throat to the point of no return and forces you to choke out the most pathetic sob. At first Zoro’s visibly confused by this, not understanding why you’ve had such a visceral reaction to his words, after all, he was simply telling the truth. If he feels uncomfortable by your emotional outburst he doesn’t show it. He instead wraps his burly arms around your shuddering frame and holds you so securely that you’re sure you are going to suffocate. But come on, we all know you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Now. It’s a common misconception that Roronoa Zoro is too much of a ‘tough guy’ to be affectionate, that he is always too stern for his own good. But this isn't true, especially when it comes to you. Yes, he’s straightforward, overly suspicious at times, and generally a serious guy. But, he’s also loyal, caring, and would die for his crew. Just because he doesn't like to publicly display his gratitude for everyone, it was always there, and his little acts of love for the crew never went unnoticed by you. He knows this about you, that you always take notice of others, it’s part of the reason as to why he loves you so much.

Your body crumples against his torso, weeping into his chest. You can’t help but to apologise, suddenly feeling guilty for interrupting such a rare confession.

“I’m sorry, I’m so selfish for crying…” you say in between stuttering breaths as you attempt to stabilise your emotions. “I thought you hated me. I’m just so relieved!”

He stays quiet, listening intently to you as he runs his fingers through your hair.

“Zoro, please talk to me. I’m sorry for interrupting, please tell me what’s bothering you, I hate that you’ve been struggling alone.” You’re rambling now and your words are being muffled by the material clinging between his torso and your lips. You don’t care. You only pray that he listens to you.

“You care too much about me,” he chuckles softly before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “The reason I’ve been such an asshole is because I’ve never loved someone like I’ve loved you. I don’t usually worry about this kind of stuff, but I think I'm a bit shit scared of my own feelings.”.

You cradle your head upwards, looking up at him with your now puffy, red eyes. Now you listen.

A deep sigh escapes from his taut lips, “It’s just… the last time I cared for someone. Well, you know how that ended.”.

He doesn’t have to say anything else. The point has been made, and you nod in a sympathetic understanding. His eyes grow glassy, tears threatening to spill through his eyelashes. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable. You don’t want to pry, and you know that words of comfort don’t work on someone like Zoro, so you stay silent, instead opting to reach up to cradle his head into your chest. This change in dynamics is definitely not something he is usually comfortable with, but it’s what he needs right now. This loving action pushes him over the edge, and funnily enough, he’s now the one sobbing into your arms instead.

You both sit like this for a while, with you sitting patiently, drawing imaginary soothing circles on Zoro’s upper back. His tears dried a while ago and you aren’t sure how long it’s been since anyone last spoke, but you’re willing to wait until the end of time if it meant that he could feel a moment of comfort within your arms.

Your reassuring touches do make him feel better. He’s never felt so loved. So cared for. He’s never been the one on the receiving end of a hold so intimate and full of empathy. The idea that someone will willingly listen to him without judgment, that someone can accept his words without forcing a solution.

“This must have been hard, I'm proud of you. Thank you for talking to me.” You finally say, in the softest voice you can muster. He breaks away from your hold so gently, as if he’s afraid that moving too hastily will break you (you are his most precious possession after all).

You both now sit in a weird and quite awkward entanglement of limbs, staring at each other in a newfound sense of mutual agreement of understanding. Everything makes sense to you, and Zoro finds comfort in knowing that his worries have been heard. A win-win some would say.

Neither of you say anything, it's pointless. Words can’t show how grateful you are for one another. It’s like they always say, actions speak louder than words, right?

And so he kisses you.

It definitely isn’t the first time you’ve kissed, but it’s the first time you’ve kissed like this. It’s all-consuming, so filled with love that it’s almost overwhelming, you believe his mouth is heaven; his tongue the eternal paradise. There’s a certain kind of bliss that can only be found in the tenderness of Zoro’s arms, and you wish more people understood saw his soft side, but maybe it's just meant to be your secret to keep. He never meant to be cruel. He just loves you. He always will.

#this ones for you babygirl #Zoro has head in bum disease #zoro x reader #one piece #roronoa zoro #one piece x reader #Roronoa Zoro fanfic #roronoa zoro x you

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fluentmoviequoter · 8 months

Text

Don't Touch Her

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: You and Deacon are abducted by men who want revenge on you. After Deacon is forced to watch them hurt you, it is up to him to comfort you and keep you calm.

Warnings: angst, chloroform, beating/torture of reader (not overly graphic), depictions of injuries, fluff/comfort at the end, I stand by my opinion that Street would always pick rock and fall right into 20-David's trap every time they asked him to play

Word Count: 3.0k+ words

A/N: I am a Deacon uses pet names apologist. Sweetheart, gorgeous, babe... He only uses the good ones; which I know for a fact. I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!🤍

Picture from Pinterest

“He always picks rock,” you whisper.

Deacon nods, continuing the streak of tricking Street with something as simple as rock, paper, scissors.

“Rock, paper, scissors,” Street says, presenting his fist as ‘rock’ while Deacon lays his palm flat as ‘paper.’

Deacon’s eyes widen, nodding to himself. “I can’t believe I beat you!”

You snicker behind your hand as Deacon shakes Street’s hand, a pleased smile on his face.

“I can’t believe he falls for that every time,” Hondo laughs as Street leaves.

Hicks yells for 20-David to prepare to roll, and your quiet morning of pestering Street becomes a distant memory in the long hours that follow.

✯✯✯✯✯

Through your years of friendship with Deacon, you’ve grown incredibly close. Whether in the field or out to dinner, you can talk without speaking, understand without hearing, and show your care from great distances.

After a series of bank robberies turned hostages, 20-David returns to HQ just past the thirteen-hour mark after leaving. It’s a few minutes after 9 p.m., but you’re all exhausted and hungry. Street, Luca, and Tan decide to go to a nearby 24-hour diner before going home, but you want to go home, not sit in a greasy diner.

“Want to come over for dinner?” you ask Deacon, removing your gear and stowing it in your locker.

“Sure,” Deacon answers happily. “You cooking?”

“Oh, yeah,” you play along. “I was thinking a three or four-course meal, worthy of a Michelin tire - star or two.”

Hondo chuckles at your joke before waving over his shoulder on his way out.

“Sounds delicious,” Deacon replies with a smile. “But I’m in the mood for something a little faster.”

You nod, leaning against Deacon as he takes your bag. After years of spending time together after work, you have created a well-calculated habit. If you go to your house, Deacon drives, but if you go to his house, you drive. Most nights, one of you leaves your car at S.W.A.T. HQ, accompanying the other to work the following morning.

Deacon wraps his arm around your shoulders, leading you to the parking lot and stowing your bag with his. Offering you a hand, he helps you into the car and ensures you are buckled in, safe, and comfortable before shifting the car into gear and driving away from work for a few hours of rest.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Careful,” Deacon says as he helps you out of the car.

“Ricky, who is that?”

Ricky shrugs, hiding just out of sight in your hallway.

“Should we bail?”

“Are you crazy, James? No! This is our chance to get him out. He’s our brother,” Rick argues quietly. “Just get ready for two fighters.”

The door opens, and you step in before Deacon. As you close the door, you raise a hand to stop Deacon. Something feels off, though you can’t place what.

Walking toward your hallway, Deacon is right behind you when two masked assailants attack you. Approaching from behind, you and Deacon are at a disadvantage as you try to keep them far enough away to keep the rags in their hands away from your faces. You elbow the man behind you in the ribs, but when he leans forward, the rag covers your mouth and nose as the smell of chloroform invades your senses. Even as your reflexes slow, you continue fighting, looking over at Deacon in a similarly poor state.

“Don’t touch her,” Deacon growls through the rag, fighting against the arms holding him still.

A dark chuckle sounds as Deacon watches you fall to the floor, his own consciousness fading soon after.

✯✯✯✯✯

When Deacon opens his eyes, his first thought is you. He immediately feels the cold steel chair under him and the tight handcuffs on his wrists, but he ignores his own conditions as he scans the room for you.

Across the room, your hands are suspended and tied above a rafter. Your feet are still on the floor, but the position is straining your muscles and leaving you open to anything.

You blink your eyes open, coughing as your senses return one by one. Deacon tucks one leg under his chair, prepared to lunge toward you and free you, but the two men from your house walk in before he can.

One points a gun at you while telling Deacon, “You move, and she dies.”

Closing your eyes as you take a shaky breath, you level your expression before sending Deacon a sad smile and a nod.

“You remember my brother?” one of the men asks as he raises his mask just long enough for you to place him.

“Ricky,” you begin.

A metal pipe hangs from Ricky’s hand, and he swings it up toward you before you finish. Your breath rushes out quickly, and when you tip forward, your shoulders catch the brunt of your weight.

“So, you know me, but you don’t care that my brother is still in there,” Ricky replies, pushing your legs back with the pipe.

You yelp at the strain on your arms, and Deacon’s jaw clenches when the second man spins the gun to remind him he can’t do anything.

“Stay, boy,” he taunts.

Deacon can only watch as you’re beaten, catching Ricky’s comments about a past case riddled between his hits. Trying to get more information, he can’t place the case until he hears another name.

“James, care for a turn?” Ricky asks.

James and Ricky, Deacon realizes, are the brothers (in the Los Angeles gang sense of the word) of a man you arrested several years ago on a drug charge.

You scream, pulling Deacon from his memory as his eyes find you again. James has a large piece of rubber wrapped around his hand as he swings his arm, punching you in the face and knocking your balance off again. Deacon’s eyes fall momentarily, looking away when he sees the growing puddle of blood on the concrete floor below you.

Deacon wants to look away from you, but he can’t. When you find the strength to look up at him after a harsh blow from the pipe, your face is bloody and tear-stained. Deacon’s nostrils flare in anger as he tenses every muscle to keep himself from running to you and making it worse.

With tears building behind his eyes, Deacon continues watching as James and Ricky alternate blows, slowing as you stop reacting. When your head drops forward, the pain getting the best of you, they decide they’ve had enough for now.

James stops in the doorway, turning to Deacon as he jokes, “Release, boy,” before locking you and Deacon inside.

Deacon rises slightly, worried about your lack of movement until you speak.

“Don’t,” you say, more blood falling to the floor as you speak. “It’s a trap, Deac.”

“Why now?” Deacon asks quietly. “That was years ago.”

“I testified against his parole,” you answer weakly. “He was doing better with the psychiatric help and he’s so close to getting his degree. He’s changing, but they want their running buddy back.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You flinch as a truck roars to life outside the wall behind you, grumbling as gravel is sprayed onto the wall. Deacon waits, and after several minutes of silence, he stands and walks across the room to you. Kneeling before you, he gently lifts your legs one at a time to wrap his linked arms around you.

Your small gasps, groans, and winces of pain are met with a quiet but reverent apology as Deacon slows his movements. He raises his arms to your hips, lifting you to remove the strain from your arms.

“Move your arms forward,” he encourages, “the nail is straight out, so you should be able to slide the rope off.”

With a jerky movement forward, you feel the rope slide before freezing when a door slams.

“Go,” you command, worry in your voice as you squirm to encourage Deacon’s arms back down your legs. “Please, Deac, go now.”

He obeys, hesitantly returning to the chair just before the door swings open. James walks in, shaking his head as he walks behind Deacon. Expecting another comment comparing him to a dog, Deacon keeps his eyes on you.

He can’t see what James is doing behind him, but your eyes widen suddenly, the now-visible whites a stark contrast to your blood-soaked face.

“Don’t- don’t do that, James. I will do whatever you want me to,” you beg, your voice too strong for the situation.

Deacon can tell from the tone of your voice that you’re worried about him, whatever James is preparing to do to him. However, the puddle of blood below you concerns him far worse than anything they can do to him.

“You’ve survived all night,” James says with a small sigh. “I guess I can give you a few more hours to come to your senses.” He walks around Deacon and squeezes your jaw harshly to whisper, “And when the parole office opens, you better be ready to call.”

James pulls a knife from his pocket, and Deacon fights his panic as he watches it rise over your torso, past your face, and to the bindings holding you up. He pulls the knife carelessly, and you fall to the floor, curling in on yourself as he steps over you.

When James leaves, and you and Deacon are alone again, he rushes to your side, gently moving you as he searches for the source of so much blood.

“If it’s been all night, and it’s tomorrow now, do you think they know?” you ask weakly.

“Hey, look at me,” Deacon requests kindly, waiting until your chin turns toward him. “They’re on their way. Nothing else is going to happen to you before our team gets here. You trust them.”

You nod before a pained exhale exits you, rolling onto your back to ease the sudden pain. With your torso exposed to him, Deacon can now see the particularly nasty gash spanning your right side, from the bottom of your rib cage to your hip. He assumes it is from the metal pipe, and the amount of dried blood surrounding the wound makes him think it is from one of the first blows.

Deacon pulls his jacket down to his hands, balling it around his cuffed hands, and presses it to your bleeding side. You whimper at the pressure and close your eyes tightly.

“You’re going to be okay,” Deacon promises. “Just hold on for me.”

“It hurts.”

“I know, I know, sweetheart. Just a few more minutes and help will be here, remember?”

The door opens suddenly while your mind is still caught on Deacon’s pet name. Someone laughs before grabbing Deacon’s shoulder to pull him away from you. He falls back out of your sight, and you don’t feel strong enough to look up. You hear something metallic hit the floor, followed by a duller thudding noise before the door closes again.

Worried they did something to Deacon, you take a painfully deep breath and prepare to sit up.

“Don’t do that,” Deacon chides, laying a gentle hand over your shoulder to keep you down.

Deacon’s handcuffs are off, and though James said the first aid kit is supposed to get you ready to call the parole office and sound believable, Deacon’s first and only priority is you. He doesn’t care about their goal; he only wants you safe and alive.

You watch Deacon, grateful for the distraction of his focused, caring, yet angry expression as he cleans your wounds, bandaging them as well as he can with the limited supplies. He finishes wrapping the gash on your torso before moving toward your face. Sending you a small, sad smile, Deacon raises his hand to catch the tear that leaks from your eye.

“Don’t lose hope. Not in our team,” he whispers.

“Thank you,” you reply, watching as he gathers a handful of supplies from the kit beside you.

Deacon rubs an antibiotic wipe across your face, staining it red before ripping another open. He feels a bit like Lady Macbeth, stained by your blood and unable to remove it. It takes every wipe and a dampened towel to clean your face enough to evaluate the bruises and scrapes littering your skin. When Deacon can clearly see your mouth again, his eyes narrow before he gently parts your lips.

You whine, and Deacon sees that your lip is split on the inside from one of the countless hits to your face. Deacon nods, glad that the source of the blood present every time you talk is from that and not something internal.

“We need to get you upright,” he mutters, looking between your head and your injured side. “It’s going to hurt, but I don’t want that blood draining into your stomach.”

“Help me?” you ask, raising a hand toward him.

Deacon nods, tucking his shoulder under your arm and pulling you with him before setting you against the wall, turning so that your deeper wounds aren’t pressed against the wall. Your breathing sounds labored, more so when you tilt your head forward to slow the bleeding, but you’re still conscious and breathing, so Deacon is counting every blessing, no matter its size.

✯✯✯✯✯

Resting against Deacon’s side, you’re harshly distracted from his presence by a gunshot on the other side of the door. You flinch backward into Deacon’s arms, which tighten around you as everything silences. The doorknob rattles, and you turn toward Deacon.

“Deac? You in here?” Hondo yells. “20-David, locked steel door in the basement,” he tells the team.

“Hondo!” Deacon replies with a surprised chuckle. “We’re both in here. Get that door open and call an ambulance!”

Deacon smiles as he kisses your less-battered cheek, thanking God for getting you out. When he hears the charges are set, Deacon moves around you, shielding you from any possible debris.

“Ambulance for who?” Hondo replies just before the door blows open. He sees you behind Deacon and says, “They’re two minutes out.”

Deacon nods, staying by your side as the paramedics load you onto a gurney and transport you to the hospital.

✯✯✯✯✯

“I’m getting discharged,” you cheer, sharing the good news when Deacon returns to your hospital room.

“So, I heard,” he responds, smiling as you extend your hand.

Your doctor wanted you to take several walks throughout the day, and Deacon has offered his company on each of them. He smiles as he walks beside you through the hospital hall.

“You’re going to stay with me for a few days,” he tells you. “As long as that’s okay with you.”

Part of Deacon was worried that seeing him would be a reminder of what you’ve been through. You smile every time he returns, even if he only went down the hall, so he’s confident that you still enjoy his presence.

“So, I’m driving?” you ask with a smile, referencing your habit of trading responsibilities.

He shakes his head, smiling as you wink at him. Your bruises are lighter after several days in the hospital, and your bandages are changed often, signs that you are healing. Your demeanor isn’t that of someone who was beaten and nearly killed just a week ago.

“Thank you, Deacon,” you tell him as you return to your room.

He hovers, ensuring you’re safe as you sit on the lowered bed. “Any one of us would have done it.”

“Even the kiss on the cheek?”

“You don’t remember any such thing,” Deacon replies playfully, pulling his chair to your side.

“I remember that you looked really worried,” you admit quietly, picking at the thin hospital blanket. “But you did what they said so they didn’t kill me.”

“I was worried. Watching that was- I honestly don’t know how I kept myself calm enough to stay in that chair.”

“Your calmness saved my life, Deacon.”

You pull Deacon’s hand into your lap, placing both your hands around his larger one, content in his presence and his care for you.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you get inside Deacon’s house, you sigh as you sit on a comfortable chair after far too long in stiff hospital beds and seats. You watch Deacon as he gathers your things, moving into the kitchen before bringing you a blanket.

“I guess this means we’re done?” you ask.

Deacon looks up quickly, his brows furrowed while his eyes are fixed on yours.

“You’ll never want to come to my house again,” you add.

Deacon releases a panicked breath, the worry that you meant something different escaping. He sits beside you before speaking, laying the blanket in your lap and placing his arm across the cushions behind you.

“I can’t think of a single thing that would drive me away from you,” he says.

“Not even all my scars?”

“You’ve never had a problem with mine.” Deacon shrugs before finishing, “You’re a survivor, that is what those marks mean.”

“I- I want to tell you something, but I don’t want you to think it’s just because you saved my life.”

“Then let’s say it later,” Deacon responds, quickly pressing his lips to your temple. “Maybe we can try dinner again in a few days; enjoy that four-course meal you promised me."

You nod as you laugh, leaning against Deacon’s side. You’ve loved him since long before he saved you, and you’re ready to tell him. Luckily for you, Deacon feels exactly the same, though his protectiveness may be a bit more prevalent for a few weeks.

Each moment spent with Deacon is a gift, and you count down the moments until you can tell him exactly what he means to you. Deacon is your best friend and always will be, but he’s easy to love and willingly gives his love in return. Though his protectiveness swells and his anger rears its head at the court hearing, you lean against his side, a reminder that you are still here because of him. And the dinner after is plenty of incentive to stay calm… for you.

#david deacon kay x reader #david kay x reader #deacon kay x reader #david deacon kay #deacon kay #cw: injury #deacon kay fluff #swat cbs #requests

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saphirered · 1 year

Note

Hi! I have come to request an astarion x reader? How would astarion feel about a asexual reader? Maybe learning about it when the reader refuses to have sex with him? You can decide how it ends! Thank you! ❤️

This was an interesting one to write but I hope you like it! Angst with fluff of course. Hope you like it! 😘

Astarion has never struggled to find the right people to suit his needs one way or another. He also never struggled to wrap them around his finger. A little wink here, some charming words there, maybe even a brush of the hand or soft touch to sweeten the deal and he’d have anyone be putty in his hands to be shaped and sculpted for his every use. It’s easy. It’s always been easy. It’s been his way of survival, of safety and security. It’s been his weapon and his shield. He’s well aware he’s not exactly everybody’s favourite person right now. Especially not since he may or may not have tried to take a few drops of blood from his newfound companions and in doing so exposed his secret. Only the more reason to charm the de facto leader of this little group and keep you on his good side. Gods how he’s been trying and he’s sure he’s got you now! Just a tiny little push more and you’ll be in his arms and un able to let him go. He’ll gladly keep you there until you’ve served your purpose of course.

He’s been having some of these pesky little feelings. Nothing he can’t cast aside. Nothing he can’t get over. It’s not like he truly cares you come to him when he’s hurt. It’s not like you really value his opinion or input even when you ask for it and consider it. You’re just that wrapped around his finger. Or so he keeps telling himself. He might be a good liar but he’s not that good. It’s the little things really. When you smile or praise him or simply offer him some form of comfort, he feels warm within when he’s only ever known the cold of the grave he crawled out of, or the dungeons he’d been confined in for so long. Were he an elf of theatrics, which he most definitely is, he would say you make him feel alive and that’s something no amount of gold can buy, yet more dangerous than any opponent he’s encountered. What has he gotten himself into? Nothing yet. He still needs you to comply, to remain on his side and for him to puppet you to his advantage. That’s your only use. That’s his only task, his only reason for getting involved with you; you are just like everybody else. He just needs to woo his way into your bed and you’ll be just like everybody else and he’ll just be his old self. He’ll use his body to achieve what he set out to achieve; your compliance.

He got reckless. Astarion made the wrong call when he asked for but a few drops of your blood to deal with the hunger. You’d offered him your delicious neck and he almost lost himself in the closeness, almost forgot he had his teeth pierce your skin. It took every ounce of restraint to not kiss you right then and there, high on the taste of your blood and the energy- the life it gave him. He could feel every tremble, every skip of your heartbeat, every breath when he held you so close and in that moment he could imagine himself being with you. That very early morning he dreamt of being with you not because he had to for whatever reason but simply because he’d have you in his arms, you would hold him in return. For the first time in perhaps forever he desired to know what it felt like to be held, to be cared for and loved. For the first time he desired to be close to someone far beyond the false proclamations of love he had told so many right before he lead them to their doom. He couldn’t do that to you. He couldn’t let himself. Not anymore. He had to, if he wanted you to be his tool in taking down Cazador.

You sat there in the glow of the fire basking in the warmth and glow. Astarion could only imagine what your skin would feel like right now, to hold that warmth, that soft and gentle touch but he couldn’t. He refuses to give into this petty little obsession of his, or so he’d tell himself. You sat alone, the others having gone to do their own thing before they too would retire. You simply kept watching the flames dance like a beautiful performance. You must have seen his shadow move from the corner of your eyes because when your gaze meets his and you smile he feels his feet push him forward involuntarily. You silently invite him to join you which of course he does. He sits down diagonally from you, far away enough from the fire but close enough to have you within reach. He gives you that look he’s trained so well, looks at you through his lashes, makes sure he looks as appealing as possible, not that he truly has to try because he knows he is magnificent.

“Hello, Astarion. I hope you’re having a lovely evening.” You speak so gently, so unburdened. He heart clenches in his chest. A hand might as well have reached into his chest cavity and squeezed his slow beating heart.

“Much improved through your simply radiant company, my darling.” You offer a smile and soft chuckle at his blatant flirt. He tries to once more school his features knowing the marks to hit just right, to make you make the first move, to catch onto the bait he’s been laying out.

You slide into easy conversation. You enjoy Astarion’s company but you’ve caught onto things you’d hoped not to see. It’s no secret he is a massive flirt and will make use of that silver tongue with anyone who even shows the slightest interest. Rarely have you seen him be genuine about any attraction, about anything mutual. You don’t even know if you’ve ever seen him be genuine in his advances, to not have that wall separating himself from whoever stands on the other side. You’d dare argue that same wall separates his mind from his body. You’ve seen it break too. You’ve seen him ease into the need to be physically close to someone yet the moment he realises what’s happening he either removes himself from the situation or that wall goes back up again in the blink of an eye. You’d like to say you’ve caught on when he does. Whatever he puts forth, whatever act it is it never quite reaches his eyes. He’s far away when he furthers advances and the further in he goes, the more removed he becomes. You count you could ever reach him.

You see it now too. He’s slipping and falling back and forth into this habit at this. It’s been happening with you before. What used to be playful flirts have turned into a bit more and he’s been making advances and when he does the life disappears from his eyes when you respond a certain way so you’ve taken to simply going along with the flow. You won’t play into his traps. You don’t pretend to know his reasonings. He is a complex individual that definitely has secrets wrapped in secrets and you know it’s a cruel world that closes off someone like he does. You know he has a reason for keeping these things close to his chest and that is his choice. You are not entitled to his life and neither is he to yours. The difference is that if he asks, you will share most if not all even if you know better than to fully trust him, even if you’d wish to know.

He lays it on thick. You don’t bite. No matter what he does. Every time he thinks he has you, he can push you to where he needs you to be. He needs you to fall in love with him, to be addicted to him but you seem utterly oblivious to him, or maybe it’s wilful. Dammit you’re so difficult to read. He supposes he’ll be blatant then.

“We’ve been dancing around for long enough. Let this unspoken thing finally be spoken.” He begins and the more guilt sets in his heart, the more difficult it becomes. He simply decides to squash the little pesky feeling until he can ignore it fully and continue. The way you look at him just makes that terribly difficult. Why do you have to be so difficult? He continues at your request.

“I like you and you clearly like me too.” His cold heart skips a beat and the flush to your skin he manages to classify as that interest, that desire you must hold for him or so he tries to convince himself because when he looks into your eyes he sees a spark of concern and pity. “I could feel it when I got lost in your neck.” He reaches out, still far away enough not to touch you. A gesture to the faint identical puncture marks along the side of your neck. You subconsciously reach out to touch them. How he wishes those fingers were his. He could but not yet. Not if he wants to play his cards right.

“Astarion…” His name from your lips. Were he not so far removed from himself he might have melted. He’s pushed away his pesky feelings and once more removed mind from body. He has an objective and so he must see his plan through. He can’t back down now. He presses a single sultry finger to his lips and shushes playfully. He’ll ignore the frown beginning to form and your downcast gaze for a second.

“Shhh. You don’t have to say a thing. I already know how you feel. Because I feel it too.” He takes your hands in his. Your skin might as well have burned him like the sun for your touch truly does hurt and that pain pierces straight through the wall, right where it hits most true. He feels it crumble but he has to hold on. “We could take an evening to ourselves. Get away from camp. Get some privacy. I know somewhere quiet, somewhere intimate.”

You take a deep breath. You see what he’s doing. You see that desperation to hold on whatever he tries to keep together. You just feel bad for him. He’s not wrong. You truly do like him. Perhaps you could be something more but not in this way. That’s not how your mind, body or soul works. You’re not his usual audience. You don’t dissolve under his so called interests. You don’t desire to share a bed with him in that way, like so many others do. You’ve seen how they look at him and how he basks in it all. He wants to be desired, to be wanted but the moment it comes to reciprocating, something is lacking and that’s what you see here. He’s struggling. He’s conflicted between the way he’s known and what he finds within himself.

“Somewhere we can indulge in each other. I promise you a night you’ll never forget.” Still holding onto your hands he rolls onto his knees so he is in front of you, in your space too and gives you the most charming look that would have anyone be begging for his attention in an instant, to be jumping at the opportunity. But not you. You pull your hands from his ever so gently it almost breaks him into pieces. He might have had further thoughts was he not appalled by the rejection. Rejected. Him? He’s the one who rejects. This is not part of the plan. His plans come falling down. What is he supposed to do now?

“While I’m flattered- and you are a wonderful individual… Don’t take this the wrong way but I’m not interested in spending a lover’s night with you and no amount of convincing is going to change that.” There go his hopes. There goes his true protection and shot at killing Cazador. It slips between his fingers like ashes in the morning sun. He hasn’t even the mind to cover it up; the hopelessness and desperation, the pain and suffering and fear. “I’ve never been sexually attracted to anyone.”

“So you were all just playing a game?” There’s frustration in Astarion’s voice but it seems directed solely at himself.

“No! Not at all. Astarion, I have loved our little flirts and banter and you’re not wrong. I truly do like you. You’re amazing and wonderful albeit a bit of an ass most of the time. I like you for you and not for what you have to offer or provide. You are so much more than you give yourself credit for and I would continue if I didn’t know this would inflate that ridiculous ego of yours beyond divine proportions.”

He process your words. You’re not attracted to him? At least not in that way. You care about him, like him and you haven’t been playing him like he began playing you. It was genuine, same as he had found himself become more genuine in his advances. Every time he set out the bait for you to pursue him, for him to share your bed and you didn’t bite, it was because you truly had no interest in using him like that. Your feelings are not driven by desire and sex. You just care. He’s so caught in his mind he nearly jumps when he feels you take one of his hands. He’s pulled out of his mind and back to reality. For the first time someone cares about him for more than his body or what he has to offer. For the first time he might actually be loved truly. And to know he almost ruined that… And you knew all this time. You’d seen through him and his motives but you hadn’t called him out. You’d let him find this out on his own.

“I-I don’t know what to say.” He speaks breathlessly. He doesn’t shy away from your touch instead he relishes in it.

“The things I offer you are not some payment plan or a way to have you be indebted. I offer them because I see you suffer and if I have the means to make a difference then I will because you matter to me. It’s okay if you don’t feel that way about me. I’m not asking you to care about me at all. If I was just a means to an end, someone to help you find whatever you’re looking for, that’s okay. I want to make a difference and if you need my help my aid is yours. It is regardless of my own or your feelings. You fight demons far greater than your ego so let me help you.”

Were he another man he might have cried. Instead he feels a shattering quiet right after the pieces hit the ground. In all his plotting he did not consider this outcome. All he had to do was not fall for you but he had. All you had to do was fall for him. You had, in your own way. Just not in the way he thought to be the only way you could fall for him. You’d figured it out without knowing the details and even still now you know, still without those details you offer to he his shield and weapon simply because he needs you. He feels horrible. Yet he feels elated.

You didn’t expect a response. You don’t get a verbal one. Instead he just gently clasps his hand over yours and holds on like you might fade beneath his touch. You don’t and once that reassurance is there he deigns look you in the eye. His hand slides up your arm ever so carefully until it goes up your neck, over those bite marks and settles upon your cheek. You give him a reassuring smile.

“I truly don’t know what to say… Except-Except thank you.”

#astarion x reader #baldurs gate x reader #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion romance

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sexyandcringe · 3 months

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Hopeless romantic

Part 3 ◇ Part 4

Warnings: cheating (not by reader or osamu), mommy issues and generally parents issues. Reader thinks she is unlovable (she just like me fr.)

Content: osamu x reader, Angst to fluff, hurt/comfort.

A/n: This is the end y'all! I wanted to make it longer but i know myself and i would just leave it unfinished at some point, so i thought this might be a good "ending", but good news! I'll still write some drabbles and snippets about yn and osamu's lives in this AU! like their first times and shit. idk, i'll see. I'm sorry if this disappoints you, I don't care.

Osamu thinks that everything in your house screams of you.

It’s not his first time in your home, but the vibrant hues and light shades remind him of your joyful personality; the white marble floor completes the water green and pink of your walls. Some canvases are hanging in the living room and a knowing smile forms on his lips as he recognizes your touch in a few of them. The colours and the delicate strokes all bear your signature, a reflection of everything that is you.

He wanders his eyes around, noticing details he didn’t notice in the past and taking in everything he can.

“Pasta with yogurt is delicious.”

Osamu looks horrified at your statement. He thought you were perfect in all shapes and forms, never had he ever expected you to come up with such a daring, unacceptable, banned-from-his-restaurant-worthy comment.

“This is it. I’m leaving.” he declares, rising abruptly from the table, as if ready to sever all hia ties with you and your questionable taste in food.

Your laughter fills the room before you grab his arms and your hand grips his shoulder, “I’m just joking!! Please!” you plead.

“No, you are not.”

Resigned, you raise your hands in surrender, “Okay, I’m not. but it’s actually good! You can’t judge anything until you try it!”

He only scoffs and sinks back into his seat, his attention on the Zucchini Lasagna with Zucchini “Ricotta” that you both made together. It was easier than you expected, and despite your protests, Osamu refused your assistance in any way, insisting that you simply observe and learn.

The way his hands work in the kitchen left you in awe, and also a little flustered. Who wouldn’t be after seeing those healthy, strong arms of his being put to work?

The final strike was his calm, soft voice, effortlessly explaining everything you didn’t know without making you feel foolish. His tone was void of any patronization and he remained kind and understanding even when you asked questions that might seem obvious to others in the culinary world.

When the result of your (his) hard work was ready, it was late enough that you asked him to stay and dine with you, not wanting to let go of him yet.

(You never want to let go of him.)

“I don’t need to try it to understand that it will taste awful.”

“Never judge a book by its cover, Miya.” you retort playfully, adopting the guise of a wise sage.

Though he doesn't voice it, Osamu hates being called Miya by you.

“You know what- leave it,” he grumbles. His scrunched-up face from the irritation he felt earlier relaxes when he takes a big bite of his dinner and you can’t stop the grin that makes its way onto your lips. Such a goofball he is.

Both of you finish your plates in silence and silence has never been so comfortable, if not with him.

In the past, you always felt like a fish out of water, you knew you were different but not the “cool and edgy” kind, no, you were just straight-up weird, and you believed that most of your friendships and relationships with others did not work out because of this.

Over time, you worked on yourself, learnt to talk to people in socially acceptable manners, and learnt to keep your mouth shut when you had to; Sometimes, your thoughts still race ahead of your words, leaving you dizzy, but you’ve made progress. You’re doing much better now than your younger self, and that is enough.

Osamu never makes you feel different.

He has always been kind and understanding, even on days when you felt like you didn’t deserve it. Even that day, when you were just a stranger soaked with rain, seeking shelter and comfort in his shop.

It was a cloudy day and you were exhausted from work. Darkness dwelled in the sky when your world shattered again.

It was late evening when your parents called, and of course, it ended up in a fight with no end.

You hated it.

You missed them, every once in a while, but you couldn’t stand being around them.

You always had a tricky relationship with your mother, a paradox where you wished her well while hurting her because she hurt you. You loved her and cared for her while wanting to run away from her and never see her again.

(maybe you only loved the mother you hoped she would be.)

To make matters worse, your boyfriend wasn’t answering his phone. You needed him - needed his hugs and kisses and a silly movie to escape reality.

And when he didn’t reply to yet another call, you decided to go to his house in hopes of finding him, but when you got to the main gate of his building, your heart stopped.

You had your fair share of heartbreaks, but at the age of 24, you weren’t one to play around with idiots who can’t have a stable and serious relationship. Your boyfriend seemed perfect initially, he was everything you thought you couldn’t find and the first two months were like a dream. Then, the reality slapped you hard and you saw the imperfections in your relationship: he never called, never let you see his phone (not like you ever asked, privacy is important to you, but when he takes away his phone even just to go to the bathroom, or when he snatches his phone from you when you use just to make some silly selfies, it makes you feel like he might be exaggerating a tad bit.), and most of all, he didn’t want you to meet his friends yet.

You thought he might be just shy, maybe his friends weren’t your type of people, maybe he had been discussing a surprise for you so that’s why he wouldn’t let you see his phone. You found justification in everything because really, you liked him.

Maybe that’s why when you saw your boyfriend of 8 months making out with the barista “you didn’t need to worry about.”, you felt like hundreds of thousands of needles were ripping your skin apart and just then, as if the clouds could feel your pain, they started to mourn, pouring heavy rain on your head, screaming at the top of their lungs and letting all their suffering pour down as if taking revenge of everything the humans have done to Earth.

At first, you felt numb, a numbness that comes from not believing what you are seeing, then started the loud thumping of your heart, making your bones tremble in despair, and your breathing became unbalanced, stuttering through your mouth; and worst of all, you were in the middle of the streets and the rain was growing faster and louder.

(but nothing was louder than the scream you let out inside your head.)

With heavy and slow steps, you walked away, oblivious to the water dripping down your temples, feeling utterly lost.

You didn’t know where to go. Your house was just a hellhole of everything that would remind you of him. You wanted to run away, and that’s what you did.

You ran until your lungs burned, until your legs ached, and the rain drenched you completely.

You were hungry and thirsty and cold and heartbroken and so fucking lost and-

A light.

A warm, inviting light accompanied by soft hums and melodies gets your attention.

From the tables inside the structure, you suspect it to be a restaurant, or perhaps a fast food, you don’t know. All you knew was that you needed warmth and a seat, so you pushed the doors open.

“Sorry, we are close-” A man looks your way, holding a dirty cloth and detergent. He must have been cleaning.

Your eyes widen, a little panicked, because you had no idea it was so late and when you look down-

oh god, you just walked into a closed restaurant, and you are soaked and you dirtied his floor all over again, he is so going to berate you and kick you out-

“Nevermind. Come in.” his voice sounds gentle, kind even; you wonder why he hasn’t screamed at you yet. You just ruined his floor, didn’t you?

He pulls a chair back and waits for you to sit, you oblige in silence, though a little hesitant, “Wait here, I’ll be back.” is all he says before disappearing from your sight.

While you stare at the texture of the tables and tiles, the events of the day come back rushing to your mind, the fight with your parents, the dead cat you found on the streets and your boyfriend cheating on you. Everything was a mess, and you felt so lonely. There was a tight knot in your chest, a heavy weight of unshed tears, and it became heavier with each passing second.

A plate comes into your view with hot rolled spaghetti seasoned with tomato puree and basil and you can’t stop the grumbling of your stomach at the sight of such delicacy.

Your face heats up as you hear a small laugh from the man standing next to you; you opt to hide your embarrassment by eating everything that was laid in front of you. You take a bite of the hot strands, swirling your fork in all the wrong ways (when have you ever done something right?), and the taste fills your mouth, cascading in your stomach and the tight knot between your lungs comes undone, your eyes get blurry and tears start to flow freely down your cheeks.

Fuck, you really did not want to cry now, but you can’t stop it. You sob and hiccup and keep eating all the same, while the cook stands next to you in silence.

The kindness of a stranger and the cruelty of your beloved crashed down on you like a tsunami and all you could do was eat and cry. Miserable, you thought to yourself.

Later, a hand came down your head, a soft pat accompanied by a low, comforting voice, “It’s going to be okay.” it said, and you believed it.

“Yachi was asking about you, y’know. Tsumoto, too. They said they missed your yapping.”

You gasp, feigning a shocked expression. “Hey! It’s called ‘having a conversation’!”

He snorts, “Sure, if that’s what helps you sleep at night.” Osamu collects the empty plates from the table and helps you clean up the kitchen.

You huff as he dries the dishes you wash, his taunting endless. When you glance at the clock, it’s already around 10 pm, and you wonder if you took too much of his time. Someone like him should never waste his time over someone like you.

“By the way, Aika gifted me two tickets to the opening of the “Fishy and Cheesy Aquarium” near the bridge because she can’t make it.” he says after a while.

You sputter out your drink, laughing at the ridiculous name.

“What the fuck is that name?!” you try not to snort like an ugly pig in front of him (you fail.) He just shrugs. “Also who’s Aika?”.

“Oh? I thought you met her! Remember the girl with long black hair and green eyes who entered my restaurant a few weeks ago? She’s Rintarou’s sister, but since me and ‘Tsumu have known Rin since we were toddlers, she’s like a sister to us, too.” a fond smile takes place on his lips, a smile that he rarely gives to clients, a smile reserved for family.

All the pieces fall into place in your head, and somehow you feel relief and joy and you curse yourself for feeling that way. You shouldn’t be allowed to feel happy now, but you are, and your heart’s already thumping out of your chest when he says his next words:

“So, I was saying, since ‘Tsumu is away for two weeks and Rin just hates crowded places with too many kids, would you like to go there with me?”

And of course, you say yes before your brain can even comprehend what he’s asking of you.

You are quite sure he is just asking you out as friends do, but what can you say? you are a hopeless romantic, after all.

Reblogs are really appreciated!

Tags: @lees-chaotic-brain @writingsofanomnivore @pressuredtreasure @k4sumis0u

#haikyuu x reader #osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #osamu fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu comfort #osamu miya comfort #osamu comfort #osamu angst #haikyuu angst #i love him sm

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unnaturalequilibrium · 2 months

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undefined number of favourite #mafin scenes [the stabbing]

We love our stories. Human beings are just made that way I think. Whether it’s watching the flickering flames play across the cave wall bringing the painted rhinos to life or if it’s being sprawled out on your couch with your laptop on your stomach watching a telenovela set in Franco’s Spain. Stories are a kind of lifeblood, like schadenfreude and finding kittens cute. And there is something about the way a story gets to be melodramatic and over the top, it’s just…it’s a little addictive. We want to see the high level drama, the lust, the love and the angst. Especially when it’s expressed in loud and bombastic emotions. We don’t want to live it (“may you live in interesting times” is the greatest curse of all time for a reason), but we want to experience it vicariously and at a great distance. Most of us at least, no matter what else separates or ties us together, we have that craving. I know it’s not just me. My grandmother and one of my co-workers follow/ed Emmerdale with the same kind of religious conviction a stockbroker follows the NASDAQ. So I don’t think it matters if you’re a Danish woman in her nineties, a Bosnian man in his fifties or a dyke chasing both. We are human and we love our stories.

This whole melodramatic stabbing is just further proof of that. It is perfect hurt/comfort. If this had been a well written +50k fanfic I would have rubbed my palms together and licked my lips when I got to this part. Protective instincts on display and a reason to confront the depths of the love developing between them. It’s fucking delicious. Fina being a brave little toaster and stepping in between Marta and the danger. And Marta with her arms full of unconscious Fina, trying to keep it together as the corn syrup slowly trickles across the floor. Hurt is the perfect imposed deadline of any story when it comes to having to deal with feelings, when there’s suddenly a reminder of how this could be taken away from you, what you want and what you feel usually becomes a bit more clear. And with that clarity the roads in front of you become easier to distinguish and separate. You’ve faffed about for long enough, now the Universe comes to collect and literally tells you to get your shit together. She’s important to you? You love her? You want her? *snaps fingers* then yalla, take action! Pick a path!

An honuorable mentioning is also the next scene in which Marta is left alone in the shop and sinks down onto the floor next to the remnants of Fina’s blood smeared across the tiles. There is something about that visual that plays on my heartstrings. Marta might not physically be a large person, I’m pretty convinced I could fireman carry her around my morning run without too much effort, but she’s got the presence of the fucking Potemkin. She is in control, shoulders stiff, back straight and she wields power with the same kind of cool aloofness which the Grim Reaper coasted through Europe with during the 14th century. But in this scene, the way she crumbles and becomes so small as she is curled up on the floor; she looks more like a lost and hurting child than anything. I like that, because I am a bit of a bitch and I like to see my fictional favourites suffer and grow. So the juxtaposition of a pre-dreadnought battleship with a tiny child with tear stains on her cheeks is very much something I get a kick out of. A slab of concrete becomes a crumpled up tissue and you hurt for her as much as you hurt with her as you realise that cement has feelings too it’s just really good at keeping its shape and showing no weakness.

#mafin #sueños de libertad #marta x fina #marta de la reina

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taevbears · 10 months

Text

To Be Loved - 03

Please be our guest

⤑ pairing: namjoon x reader (a bit of reader x jungkook) ⤑ genre: hybrid au, romance, hurt/comfort ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 6.3k ⤑ warnings: hybrids are seen as sub-human, brief descriptions of abuse throughout the chapter, a bit of angst, the boys are very guarded and kind of mean toward the reader, reader is stress lol ⤑ note: sorry for the delay in this chapter, it's been really hectic these past few weeks being sick and super busy. i'm curious what your thoughts are and what you guys think namjoon is! also, i hope you all have a safe and warm holiday full of delicious food!

Chapters 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 (End)

Dinner is served.

Laid out across the table is a small feast consisting of homegrown vegetables from their garden, hand-picked fruits of the season, grilled fish caught from a nearby river, roasted poultry and cooked eggs, and homemade brew that’s been aging in their cellar. Food that’s clearly been hunted and gathered from around the manor.

“You two are our guests,” Rap Monster says to you and Jungkook from the head of the table, sitting directly across from you. “Please feel free to help yourselves.”

He glances over at the wolf hybrid and gives him a tiny nod. The eldest among the pack picks up his utensils and begins to put food on his plate, and the others soon follow suit, reaching for whatever appeals to their appetites. Even Jungkook begins to pile up on the food he’s been eyeing since they’ve been set down before him, and then passes the dish to you, starving after everything you’ve both been through since you’ve ventured off the main roads.

“This is seriously so good!” Jungkook praises between bites. His eyebrows are furrowed together, as if he’s angry at how incredibly tasty everything is.

“You’re just hungry,” the leopard hybrid remarks, shoulders raising a bit as he puts some fish on his plate.

“Thank you for cooking,” you add softly, though you’re not really sure who to direct it to. Jimin had mentioned that someone named Seokjin and someone named Yoongi prepared tonight’s meal. The deer hybrid only stares at you with a frown, the leopard hybrid doesn’t even bother to make eye-contact with you, and the wolf hybrid merely nods his head without saying anything back.

The table is relatively quiet, but you can tell that it’s a level of silence they’re not used to. Although the pack of hybrids try not to make it too obvious, you can tell they’re all observing you closely.

It starts to make you feel self-conscious as you bite into an apple, not really tasting the food but going through the motions of it.

You hate attention. You’ve always had.

The pressure of everyone’s eyes on you, watching your every move, and judging your every word and action makes your skin crawl, constricts your breath, and knots your stomach. Whenever you’re forced into the spotlight – Kangdae dangling you around like a pretty thing to envy – you keep your gaze on the ground. Your voice starts to tremble. You hear people asking what’s wrong with you.

As your eyes burn on the plate, you realize that’s what’s happening now. The hybrids are making you as nervous as you’re probably making them.

Humans, after all, are the most dangerous threat to them.

“My name is Jimin.”

To your right, opposite of Jungkook, the swan hybrid speaks. He seems to sense your uneasiness and then gestures for the others to follow.

Next to him, the bear hybrid grunts, “Taehyung.”

“Seokjin,” says the wolf hybrid, gnawing on a bone.

“I’m Hoseok,” the deer hybrid pipes up from the other side of the table, across the wolf.

“Yoongi,” the leopard hybrid calls himself, sitting between Hoseok and Jungkook.

Across from you, at the other end of the table, the one you know as Rap Monster merely smiles. The dimples on his cheeks are deep as he looks at his pack fondly before his colorful eyes meet your gaze. “I don’t go by Rap Monster anymore, so you can call me by my real name. It’s Namjoon.”

Namjoon.

Finally, you have the name of the mysterious rapper.

You tell them your name, and Jungkook finishes the round of introductions with his. With one question answered, another one pops up. This time, from you. “How do you all know each other?”

The air shifts with a sudden tension, and you instantly regret the words leaving your mouth. It feels like you’ve come across a taboo topic. Information that, perhaps, none of them feel comfortable sharing with a human. You can see, by some of the emotions that cross their faces, that it hadn’t been easy for them to get here.

“The short story is that I took them all in,” Namjoon explains lightly. “Society isn’t exactly kind to creatures like us. Humans only see us as abominations. A lot of them can be unnecessarily cruel to the things they’re afraid of. To the things they don’t understand. I found them and I offered them a place in my home.”

“Which brings us to question,” Seokjin interrupts, his yellow eyes practically glowing when he looks at you, “what brought you into our territory?”

It’s a question they all seem to be wondering. Even before the car accident in the woods.

The words get stuck in your throat.

Taehyung crosses his arms. He looks broader when he does that. More intimidating. “We don’t allow humans to come anywhere near this place.”

“But she’s not like other humans!” Jungkook speaks up on your behalf, eyes wide as if that would help convince them of his plight. “She’s really nice, and she’s my friend.”

“Jungkook,” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. You want to stop him. To tell him that he doesn’t need to defend you. That you understand their hostility, and that you swear you’ll be gone as soon as the storm stops.

His ear twitches toward you, showing that he’s heard you, but he decides to ignore you.

“I was in bad shape when I met her, but she helped me. She treated my wounds after my owner nearly…” He shudders, unable to finish his sentence. Given the bruises and cuts on his face, and the welts and scars on his body, it’s not hard to imagine what could’ve happened. Or how far his owner would’ve gone to hurt him. “She fed me too. And bought me ice cream and banana milk.”

Seokjin snorts at that. For a brief second, Hoseok and Taehyung look a little amused by his last comment. Whereas Yoongi and Jimin visibly frown as they look more closely at Jungkook’s wounds. Namjoon’s eyes meet yours for a moment, and you feel your heart flutter before he turns to Jungkook and gives him a nod, encouraging him to go on.

“And she’s been trying to find a safe place to take me to,” he continues, turning to look at you. There’s gratitude in his eyes when he does. “We were trying to take a shortcut through the woods, but it was raining so hard and we could barely see where we were going. We’re both just trying to get away from our bad humans.”

By the silence that follows, you’re not entirely sure if they believe you’re a good person yet. That, despite Jungkook trying to defend your honor, there’s still a bit of skepticism over a human helping a hybrid out of the goodness from their heart. After everything they must have gone through by the hands of those who try to control them, you can’t blame them at all for feeling jaded.

“I believe it,” is all Namjoon says. His gaze is fixed on you now, and again, you start to feel nervous at the attention. But… not in an entirely unwanted way. “You were kind to me once before, too.”

For years, the old manor has been something straight out of a storybook. A beautiful, old home, stuck in time, untouched by humans. Deep in the woods and hard to find unless you know your way to it. Forgotten, but with a timeless and enchanting charm.

It begins with Namjoon, who discovers it. And then Yoongi, who helps him rebuild and restore it. Then, they find Hoseok, and for a while, it’s just the three of them. But that all changes when they meet Jimin and Taehyung and take them in at the same time. And finally, Seokjin joins their pack.

One by one, the hybrids have contributed and worked together to make this abandoned place their own. You see the way they protect each other, how they take care of each other. Humans haven’t stepped near their secret haven for years, and yet, here you are – an intruding threat to their sanctuary. A walking reminder of what they’ve run away from.

Yoongi, captured and thrown into a cage, about to be sent overseas in cargo to be auctioned off had he not managed to escape from his captives.

Hoseok, left for dead by the hands of hunters, antlers forcibly cut by the time Namjoon and Yoongi find him barely breathing.

Jimin and Taehyung running away from a shelter that was abusing the hybrids, starving them out, depriving them of basic essentials, and throwing them into tiny, cramped spaces before they’re next in line to be euthanized.

And Seokjin, forced to become a lone wolf after violently losing his home, family, and everything he knows to the greed of humans until he finally found the others.

“If you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask,” Namjoon assures you, clearing the plates away from dinner to wash. “I want you to feel comfortable while you’re here.”

“I appreciate it, Namjoon. Thank you,” you tell him sincerely. He grins at you, practically beaming as his name rolls off your tongue. You can’t help but smile back at him, although shyly.

It’s strange how flustered you feel around him.

“Can we look around?” Jungkook asks, coming up between you and Namjoon. He looks at him curiously as the two of you finally look away from each other.

“Of course. Jimin? Mind showing them around?” Namjoon asks the swan hybrid, who just finishes up wiping down the table.

He looks a bit surprised, but nods his head. “Oh. Sure. Let me finish this up and I’ll be right with you guys.”

“I’ll go with you guys,” Taehyung offers, glancing at you for a brief moment before he finishes up sweeping.

“What about you?” you ask. Not that you don’t mind Jimin. He’s been nice to you. Taehyung as well, though out of obligation.

You were just hoping to spend more time with Namjoon.

“I’ll catch up with you later,” he promises as he looks at the other hybrids, all pretending they aren’t listening to the conversation. “I need to make sure no one else followed you here.”

As requested, Jimin and Taehyung show you and Jungkook around the manor.

The east wing is where you’ll be staying. The room that you woke up in is yours, and Jungkook has his own room near you. Dinner is at the same time every evening, and it is expected that the two of you will join the rest of the pack. There are many rooms that make this place feel like a modern castle: a ballroom with a grand piano, a lounge room with board games, puzzles, a pool table, and old gaming consoles, a conservatory with curtainless windows, table tennis, a seating area, and a greenhouse.

You can see that Jungkook is fascinated with the manor as much as you are. Maybe even more so. His eyes practically sparkle with excitement when he sees a familiar game that he played as a child, or that cheeky smile on his face when he asks if you can dance or play any instruments in the ballroom. You see Jimin and Taehyung eager to show him the cool stuff around the manor too, and you suspect that at one point, they’ve forgotten you’re on this tour as well.

Still, it’s so nice to see Jungkook smiling and laughing. Despite everything he’s been through, there’s still an endearing, childlike innocence to him. A shy, friendly aura that makes him so approachable and well-liked.

You can see him being very happy here. Even if you’re not in the picture.

“What’s over there?” Jungkook asks, curious as he nods toward the west wing.

“Oh, that place is off-limits,” Taehyung explains without giving it a second glance. “No one is allowed to go there.”

You’re a bit surprised by that. The west wing looks completely normal from where you stand. “Why not?”

“It just is,” Taehyung cuts in a little harshly as he glares at you. Your mouth immediately snaps shut, a bit hurt and taken aback by the outburst.

“You’re free to go anywhere else in the manor,” Jimin adds, trying to drop the topic. His voice is gentler as he shoots his companion a warning glance. “Just not the west wing. Understand?”

You merely nod your head, not trusting your voice at this point.

While the hybrids like Jungkook, it’s clear that they don’t feel the same about you. And you’re not certain they ever will.

As the tour continues, you can’t help but notice the other hybrids’ reactions when you come within their personal spaces in the manor. Yoongi stares at you from the high wooden beams on the ceiling. His spotted tail slowly swishes back and forth in distrust as his glaring, feline eyes never leave yours. Hoseok hides from you whenever he hears you approaching. He’s so scared, he’s trembling as you catch his wide-eyed, petrified gaze, and the guilt of almost hurting him weighs more heavily on you. Seokjin covers his mouth to hold back a low growl when you come near his room. His body is tense and his lips are curled back into a snarl. Even Taehyung is only accompanying you to make sure that Jimin is safe. That you won’t harm his dear friend.

Rain continues to heavily pour outside. You wish that the storm would die down already. Clearly, you’re not welcomed here.

A hand touches the small of your back, and you raise your head to see Jungkook giving you a tiny, comforting smile. Just like at the motel stop with the scary men, he subtly assures you that he has your back.

You give him a wry smile back, squeezing his arm in appreciation. It’s a silent exchange that doesn’t go unnoticed by the other two hybrids with you.

“This is our last stop,” Jimin announces as he and Taehyung open the double-doors. Your eyes widen in awe at the sight before you.

A library.

There are two levels, and both have standing shelves full of books. Art pieces that look like they belong in museums decorate the room as well, from busts of philosophers to exquisite paintings hung on the walls. In the center is a large couch that looks cozy enough to sink into, curled up with a good book. It’s a place much bigger and prettier than the tiny book nook in your town.

“Wow…” You step inside, mood instantly lifting as you marvel at the sight before you. You could spend months here, just trying to read through the massive collection. “This is amazing!”

Jungkook looks surprised. “You think so?”

“Is it okay if I look around?”

Jimin and Taehyung exchange looks with each other, but they nod their heads. You disappear into the nearest aisle, browsing around. Your fingers run across the spines of books and their printed titles before landing on the ones that catch your interest. Things that were in your to-read list, things that you’ve just discovered now, things that you fondly remember reading before.

To the two residential hybrids, it’s probably one of the more boring parts of the manor, yet you’re absolutely enthralled by the room.

“Are there any comics?” Jungkook shyly asks, and Taehyung’s eyes brighten a bit as he takes his wrist and shows him where they are. The two leave Jimin alone as he watches you with curiosity.

“That’s funny,” he says to himself before he follows after the other hybrids. “This is his favorite room too.”

Sleep doesn’t come easy for you. Not tonight, at least.

After everything you’ve been through – running away from Kangdae, being on the road for days, looking for the perfect home for Jungkook, being careful to cover your tracks and not get caught, and finally ending up here – you’d think you would’ve been knocked out by now, exhausted from everything.

But as you turn to face the window, the relentless storm outside seems to reflect the turmoil you feel.

The storm won’t last forever. You’ll probably be here for two or three nights. Maybe a week at most. Then, as soon as the rainy days clear up, you’ll be out of here.

But Jungkook should stay.

As you toured around the manor with Jimin and Taehyung, it’s so clear to you that this place could be exactly what you two were hoping to find for him. A place to call home.

The hybrids provide for each other. They take care of each other. And they’ve clearly taken a liking to Jungkook. He’ll have his meals, a warm bed in his own room, plenty of fun things to do, friends to talk to. He’ll be happy here with them.

You turn to face the ceiling, already dreading the inevitable conversation you’ll have to have with him. He’s become your friend, and someone you care a lot about. You just hope he won’t be so stubborn and make it harder for you to let him go.

Especially since the other hybrids don’t like you as much. Or rather, at all. In fact, you’re pretty sure they’re eager for the storm to pass as much as you are so that you can leave their secret haven.

The mean looks some of them give you. The way they snarl and hiss and tremble at your presence. It feels like there isn’t anything you can do about it. Even if Namjoon allows you to stay, even if Jungkook is there to vouch for you, they’ll just hate you no matter what, simply because you’re human.

You sigh. You can’t force them to like you, of course, and you don’t blame them for being weary of you. But the bigger problem seems to be how you’re going to get out of the woods without a car. With your face all over the news. With Kangdae’s family exhausting all their efforts to look for you.

And as you roll to face the door, you think about Namjoon.

He’s as much of a mystery to you now as he was back then. He has a charisma that commands the room, that makes it obvious that he’s the leader of the pack. That alone has all the hybrids respect him and look up to him. And to top it off, he’s also so kind for letting you and Jungkook in, for making you both feel comfortable in his home.

You can’t remember the last time Kangdae treated you as nicely. He was always so selfish and cruel, and you feel foolish to think that’s what love was.

When in reality, ever since you finally left him, you realize you know nothing about love at all. You thought, if you stayed with him long enough, you could learn to love him. That you could learn how to be loved back.

But the pitiful ache in your heart only makes you realize that, at least with Kangdae, there was never any love at all.

And yet, Namjoon…

With a finality, you throw the covers off of you. Since you can’t sleep, you decide to do something else to force your thoughts away.

You try your best to avoid the creaks on the floor as you quietly sneak out of the room. The halls of the east wing are dark, but luckily, you aren’t met with any grumpy hybrids just yet. As quietly as possible, you shut the door to your room and try to navigate through the shadowy hall, trying to remember where exactly the library is located in the huge manor.

However, your endeavor is halted when you hear voices at the end of the hall.

“You could be a little nicer to her,” Jimin begins, standing near a window where the moonlight illuminates his face. The tone in his voice sounds like he’s disappointed.

Standing before him is no one other than Taehyung. “She’s human.”

“She could be—” Jimin starts, but lowers his voice. You barely hear him as he tells Taehyung, “I think she’s it.”

His eyes widen a little, seeming to know exactly what he’s talking about.

“You think she’s—” An abrupt silence follows when they sense they’re not alone. Both of them turn to you. Even in the darkness, you think they can still see you. Then, Taehyung confirms they can when he asks, “Little human, where do you think you’re going?”

“I can’t sleep,” you reply honestly. On cue, the rumble of thunder ominously rolls in, sounding like the roar of a beast. You’re vaguely reminded of the sound that spooked Jungkook right before the accident, and you wonder if whatever it was is still out there.

“Are you afraid of the storm?” Jimin asks with a tilt of his head.

“It’s not that.” You don’t mind the rain or the sound of thunder, especially if you can stay safe and cozy indoors, sheltered from the bad weather. Under other circumstances, you might even enjoy the ambiance it brings in the background of a good book. “I think I just want to read something before I go to bed.”

“Are you afraid of us?” Taehyung suddenly asks you. His eyes glowering as he waits for your response.

But you look confused. “What do you mean?”

“Do you think we’re monsters?”

“Taehyung,” Jimin warns with a frown. He turns back to you, opening his mouth as if he’s about to tell you to just forget about his friend’s question.

“You’re not monsters,” you tell him seriously, without hesitation, without looking away. Your answer surprises not just the two hybrids before you, but also the ones in the shadows, listening in. “None of you are.”

You love books.

From the stories that your parents would read you to sleep, to the short stories full of childlike adventure and wonder, and later opening up to genres of drama, horror, fantasy, and romance. Even now, you love immersing yourself in the worlds of writers, escaping and overcoming trails that aren’t your own, and imagining yourself as the main character with every page you turn. It’s something that you can’t get enough of.

You love the weight of a book in your hand, the smooth texture of paper beneath your fingertips, and the earthy, musty smell of aged and worn pages that’ve been sitting on their shelves. You love being so captured by a story, you forget everything else around you, hung to every inked word across the page until the final conclusion.

Entering the library for the first time, surrounded by one of your favorite things, brings you a comfort that you haven’t felt in a long time.

Kangdae never understood your fascination with books. He couldn’t relate to that interest at all, finding it boring and a waste of time. It got harder to indulge in reading when you were with him. There were always chores to do after a long day at work that he never bothered to help with, or spontaneous trips and outings that he’d drag you to just so he can ignore you for his friends and other pretty women throughout the night. Even the books you do own, Kangdae never respected them – he never did with any of your belongings – throwing them when he was mad until the pages were bent and torn from the bindings, or using them as coasters or to spill his drinks on.

Finding yourself in a place like this brings you back to a time before you ever met Kangdae. Where no one really knew you, and you could quietly indulge yourself in the stories you’ve always loved.

Of all the books in the library, one of them catches your eye.

It’s your favorite one. The one about a far-off place with daring sword fights and a prince in disguise.

Your eyes widen in disbelief as you hold the book in your hands, flipping through the pages. It’s been well-kept, as have all the other books here. Unlike the copy you had at your home, ruined beyond repair. As you skim through the pages, the story immediately jumps out at you. The descriptions make it easy to imagine, and the flow of words make it hard to put the book down.

Even though you’ve read this story countless times, it never gets old. Because within the pages, entwined with all the action, adventure, and drama, is a love story.

To be loved and to be loved in return.

You’ve always wished for something like that for yourself.

All you’ve ever known about love is from Kangdae. The misery, the arguments, the fear, the anger. You think that’s just the reality of what love is supposed to be. But at least in this story, love seems nice. Even if it’s only fiction.

“That’s a good one.”

You’re startled when Namjoon appears beside you, looking at the book that you have in your hands. He looks wet, as if he’s been outside. Water drips from his soaked clothes, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it at all.

You smile at him sheepishly and admit, “It’s actually my favorite.”

He returns your smile. Those deep dimples pop up on his cheeks as he offers, “If you want it, it’s yours.”

“Oh! Thank you, I appreciate it, but I really can’t,” you decline, although very touched and almost tempted by the gift. “I don’t know how I can repay you for letting us stay here until the storm passes.”

“You don’t need to repay me anything,” he assures you sincerely. Perhaps to him, he’s just returning the favor you did for him years ago.

“I should at least give you money or something.” You don’t have much on you, though. Just whatever is left of what you’ve been secretly saving up.

Namjoon seems to consider it, but then, almost a bit shyly, he asks, “What about a date instead?”

You’re not entirely sure what Namjoon is thinking when he asks you on a date.

It’s still raining outside. Thunder, lightning, strong winds, and all. Even if you could leave the old manor, there isn’t anywhere to go. You’re surrounded by a thick forest in the middle of nowhere.

Still, Namjoon has you close your eyes.

His big, strong, and incredibly warm hands take yours in his, as he guides you to wherever he plans to take you. He smells like rain, and his clothes are still slightly damp from patrolling outside.

Your footsteps echo together in the quiet manor as he leads you out of the library. You can feel his gaze on your face, making sure you don’t ruin his surprise, and taking in all your features up close. And you bite back a giggle when you hear him bump into things every now and then before quickly assuring you that he’s okay and reminding you not to open your eyes yet.

“Watch your step,” he warns as he takes you somewhere colder. You clumsily stumble over the step anyway, nearly falling if it isn’t for his hands steadying you.

“Namjoon, where—?”

“Okay,” he says with a baited breath. “Open your eyes.”

Connected to the curtainless sunroom with the tennis table and the comfortable seating area is a greenhouse. You noticed it when Jimin and Taehyung showed you around earlier, but you didn’t have a chance to look inside. Namjoon smiles eagerly as he shows you his private, indoor garden: the bonsai trees that are starting to bloom with flowers, monstera plants standing tall with giant leaves, and bundles of flowers like roses, snapdragons, and lilies.

“Wow, Namjoon,” you say in awe, looking around. It feels like walking into the library for the first time, marveling at the magic the room brings. “These are beautiful.”

“I grew them myself,” Namjoon proudly states, rubbing his neck shyly. “They’re nothing compared to Hoseok and Jimin’s garden, but I thought I should still show you this place. I like coming here when I have a lot on my mind.”

“I can see why,” you remark. It’s nice here. All the flowers and plants look like they’re well-taken care of, healthy and thriving despite the ominous weather conditions. You come across a flower that you’ve never seen before. It looks like a cross between a lily and a rose, iridescent in color but with a thing of blue and purple. Their leaves and stems shine green like emeralds. “What are these?”

“Pretty, right? I call them smeraldo flowers,” he explains. His eyes light up with the way you admire them. “In the language of flowers, they mean non potevo dire la verità – the truth that couldn’t be told.”

“I’ve never seen anything like them.” You carefully touch the soft, delicate petal of the flower. They almost look like they’re made of magic.

“They’re beautiful like you.”

You look up at Namjoon just then, a bit surprised by the compliment. He seems a bit embarrassed, trying to hide his face as if he hadn’t meant to say those words out loud.

You’ve been called beautiful before. Sometimes, you think your natural beauty is all that Kangdae sees in you. It’s the only reason he ever tried to pursue you. But hearing it from Namjoon, who seems sincere with his words and intentions, it feels different.

It feels nice.

“I don’t know about that. These are very beautiful flowers,” you reply with a shy smile. “But thank you, Namjoon. You’re really kind.”

“I know the other guys are having a… difficult time adjusting to you. We haven’t had a guest here in a long time, especially a human one,” Namjoon tries to justify on their behalf. “They’re not bad, though. None of us are. So, you don’t need to be afraid while you’re here. But if you ever feel lost or scared, you can always come here. This place, these flowers, they bring me comfort. I hope they do the same for you.”

“Thanks Namjoon,” you repeat with a small smile. He really is so kind to you. “And I get it. Don’t worry. I don’t know what any of them have been through, but I don’t blame them for being cautious of me.”

Although you haven’t had many encounters with hybrids before, you know of the mistreatment they’ve endured from humans. How they’re treated like outcasts, and are constantly on the threat of being enslaved as laborers, entertainers, or pets. You see them protesting for their rights, and how laws constantly change to their disadvantage.

But if you’ve learned anything while being with Jungkook, it’s that he isn’t too different from you. He likes to sing and dance to music while you’re driving, he snores in his sleep, he loves the taste of banana milk and ice cream.

It hurts a little, but you understand why they’re weary of you. Why the hybrids aren’t able to easily trust you the way they can trust Jungkook, even though he’s just as much of a stranger to them as you are.

“You really are different from other humans,” Namjoon states with intrigue. The look in his colorful eyes is full of warmth and sincerity.

“I don’t think I’m doing anything different than what any decent person would do.”

“It’s because not a lot of humans treat us like decent people,” Namjoon explains again with a sad smile. “You know, you humans are so fascinating to me. You build grand cities with tall skyscrapers, you create beautiful art pieces that evoke feelings and different interpretations to your work, you write countless moving stories of wisdom, fantasy, and poetry. I wanted to be a rapper because I felt like I needed my voice to be heard in this world. All the anger I felt about being born a hybrid, all the sadness and loneliness I felt from being shunned away, all the fear of never being able to be heard or accepted. I went to the underground to prove that I can be as good as the humans are. That my voice is just as worthy to be heard as theirs.”

“It is worthy,” you tell him firmly. “I still remember the night I saw you perform so clearly. You were the best one out of all of them. Even better than some professional rappers in the industry these days.”

He looks away bashfully, but quietly replies, “Thank you. I’m glad you think so.”

“After the incident,” you start, both of you recalling that night when people discovered that he was a hybrid, “I was hoping that I’d see you again.”

“I had hoped to see you too.”

The confession is soft, but you still hear it over the sound of rain and thunder. In the greenhouse, standing in the garden where loneliness is in full bloom, you feel something stir inside you. Something warm. Something real.

You can’t place your finger on why. But you start to think about the meaning of love.

And you have to wonder, has Namjoon been thinking about you this whole time? Does he remember that night he met you as clearly as you do? Is that why he’s so welcoming to bring you into his home? Is that why he’s been so kind to you?

“Namjoon?”

“Yes?”

His eyes are so mesmerizing, you don’t realize the rain has stopped. That the roars of thunder and flashes of lightning have suddenly died down. That all you can hear is your own heartbeat in your chest as you look up at the handsome man before you.

“What kind of hybrid are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

For the other hybrids, it’s obvious what they are: Seokjin is a wolf, Yoongi is a leopard, Hoseok is a deer, Jimin is a swan, Taehyung is a bear, and Jungkook is a bunny. But Namjoon, who mostly looks human, you have a hard time figuring out what he could be.

“I’m a beast. A miserable, ugly beast.”

Your brows furrow slightly. “I don’t think you’re—”

“But I am,” he interrupts with a frown. He looks at you seriously. “Trust me. You don’t want to see me in that form. You’ll be scared.”

You want to disagree. But you can tell that he doesn’t want to talk about the side of himself that he seems to hate so much, so you drop it. “Sorry for bringing it up.”

“No, it’s okay. I knew you’d be curious.” He sighs and rubs his neck again, seeming a bit torn with himself. A clash of thunder sounds from the distance, as if the storm is about to pick up again. As if the anger and sadness in the skies reflect Namjoon himself. “It’s just… if I had it my way, you’d never have to see it. You’ll always remember me the way that you see me now.”

You nod your head in understanding. Perhaps that’s why you’re also forbidden to go into the west wing. Maybe the truth of what kind of beast he is lies in that area.

Your gaze turns back to the smeraldo flowers. Under the moonlight, they almost look like they’re glowing with an ethereal and tragic beauty Flowers that mean an untold truth. Somehow, that makes you feel a little sad.

“Whether you’re a beast or a human, you’re not a monster, Namjoon.”

He smiles at you sadly. “I wish I could believe that. But thank you.”

The spontaneous “date” comes to an end, and like a gentleman, Namjoon walks you up to the east wing and stops in front of your bedroom.

Before you go inside, you turn to face him. “I had a nice time, Namjoon.”

You mean it, too. Quiet nights in, looking at beautiful flowers in the garden, sharing book recommendations in the library. It’s the perfect night for you.

“You don’t have to go after the storm ends,” Namjoon suddenly tells you. “You can stay here if you want. Both you and Jungkook.”

“I don’t know, Namjoon. Your pack—”

“I’ll talk to them. I’m sure they’ll come around to the idea,” he starts, looking like he wants to add more to it. Because, for some reason, you’re very special to him.

“It’s not just that.”

He’s already done so much for you already. There’s no way you’ll be able to repay him.

“How about we make a deal?”

You pause, looking at him with hesitance. “What kind of deal?”

“I don’t want your money, or do anything that you won’t feel comfortable with,” he quickly assures you. “The woods are dangerous, and the storm isn’t going to stop anytime soon. At least here, you’ll be safe. You’ll have your own room, you can have dinner with us, you’re free to wander the east wing and use the common rooms. All I ask is that you go on another date with me tomorrow night. And the night after, if you still decide to stay.”

You think about it. It seems like the best option for now.

You’ll still be hidden from Kangdae and the people looking for you. You’ll be safe from the wolves and other predators lurking in the deep, dark woods. You won’t have to say goodbye to Jungkook so soon, and you can spend another night like this with Namjoon.

“Why would you want me to stay when I’m human?” you ask him.

“Humans are fascinating. You’re fascinating,” Namjoon admits with a shy smile. “I just want to get to know you more.”

“I don’t think I’m that interesting of a human.” You can’t build skyscrapers, you can’t create masterpieces, and you can’t write stories the way your favorite authors do. “You’ll be disappointed.”

“I won’t. Because you’re you.” He seems so sure of that.

You smile a little at that.

“I’ll consider it,” you decide, heart fluttering as you half-joke, “I feel like you’re trying to make me fall in love with you.”

“You won’t,” Namjoon softly says, also just as sure. The way he looks at you makes your heart ache. “Why would someone as beautiful as you ever love a beast like me?”

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

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#to be loved #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #hybrid namjoon #hybrid namjoon x reader #hybrid namjoon x you #hybrid bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts hybrid au #bts hybrid fic #bts hybrid x reader

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★ Namjoon

↳ Lazy Day // fluff. domestic!AU, established relationship. 549 words

★ Jin

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↳ if i can never give you peace // series. angst, eventual smut. mafia!AU, hybrid!AU, enemies to lovers, slow burn. in progress.

It starts like quite a few stories do, in your world. Girl meets boy, who happens to be a hybrid, girl buys him at an auction where hybrids are sold, boy falls in love with her, girl gets bored of him. Then it’s not so typical anymore, when the boy ends up forced into illegal fighting rings, until he makes a wrong move and the girl’s father decides he needs to be killed. Where does that leave you? Well, you’re the one who handled Jungkook’s fight and generally organized his life, and, when the girl’s father, your boss and mafia leader, tells you he wants him ‘put down’, you’re the one who has to get it done. Except, instead, you let him escape, and everything turns out fine. Until he comes back.

0 · 1 · 2 · 3 · 4 · 5 · Interlude · 6 · 7 · 8 · 9 ·

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★ I.N.

↳ all i see are girls too good to be true // fluff, light angst. college!AU, idiots to lovers, jealousy. 3.9k

↳ take a chance and roll the dice // fluff. coworkers!AU, bar!AU. 3.7k

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tomhorsery · 3 months

Note

Can you do relationship headcannons for shauna after she got back from the crash?

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Shauna shipman headcanons

Masterlist

Shauna Shipman x Female! Reader

Warnings: Light angst, talks of lost child (dead).

Content under the cut-

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• She was so clingy after she got rescued. Always touching you no matter what.

• She tried to act tough during the day like nothing happened out there in the wilderness… but at night she always cried herself to sleep, curled up next to your warm body to seek comfort.

• She’s the small spoon and you’re the big one— it was different before the crash, but you’re not complaining. a little role reversal never hurt anyone.

• She used to let you look at her diary with her since she never really wrote about stuff that she didn’t tell you about beforehand. But lately she’s been defensive over it, so you don’t pry anymore.

• After a while she went nonverbal like Lottie since everything that happened to her just started to sink in. The loss of her best friend made her feel like she had lost herself too.

• She does take affection though. She doesn’t pull away when you initiate anything. She wants to make up for the time lost that you could’ve spent together.

• She always holds you close. Her hugs are warm, comforting. You find yourself holding onto her as tightly as you can, afraid she’ll disappear again if you let go.

• She eventually opened up about what really happened in the wilderness even though she made a promise to the other survivors that she wouldn’t. But it did help her get over some of her feelings towards it.

• Ever since she came home she had this ritual before bed of mumbling to herself about her son that she lost that night in the woods. It seems she still thinks about him sometimes even though he’s gone. It makes you sad watching her like this. Makes you miss him too even if you’ve never met him.

• She’s always worried that something bad will happen to you. Much like Lottie, she has a tendency to be overprotective. She worries about your safety constantly. She even checks on you at night to make sure you aren’t injured or worse. She doesn’t seem to realize you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself.

• Ever since she came back home she’s been craving meat. The raw kind. Not the “healthy” kind either like fish. Just meat. So whenever possible she hunts for it when you go shopping. She tries to convince you to buy the big packs of meat in the fridges, but you refuse every time, you know she’ll complain about it not tasting like the meat she had in the wilderness.

• She’s become considerably better at cooking after rescue. When she gets bored she cooks whatever catches her fancy and always puts on dinner. It’s pretty cute. You think she’d make an excellent chef someday. She makes the most delicious dishes ever.

• She makes you take showers with her since she can’t be alone.

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Yellowjackets requests: OPEN!

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#ask #shauna shipman x reader #shauna shipman #yellowjackets x reader #shauna yellowjackets #Shauna Yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year

Text

All These Years [Part 19: "Coffee, Brunch, and Hotel Rooms"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut [Comfort now exists in this series!!]

Word Count: 6.1k

a/n: Another not angsty installment for this series! And there's some sexual tension in this one! Feedback is always appreciated!

The warm vanilla latte at your usual coffee shop in Hell’s Kitchen tasted twice as delicious this morning as you remembered it being. Whether it was because you hadn’t had this roastery’s espresso in nearly a year, or because it was freezing outside in New York City and the hot liquid was quickly warming you up, or because it was just the way Matt was sitting beside you with a bright smile on his face, you weren’t entirely certain. But you were most definitely enjoying the cup of coffee that Matt had insisted he buy you.

You couldn’t have pictured a better start to your first full day back in Hell’s Kitchen, either. You’d managed to sleep in this morning for once, cozily buried under all the hotel blankets. Shortly after waking up, you’d hurried to get ready only to be pleasantly surprised when Matt had called you. He’d told you that he was waiting for you down in the hotel lobby because he wanted to walk with you to the coffee shop. After hanging up the call, you almost screamed in sheer joy because this was really happening–Matt Murdock was actually taking you on a first date–but you had refrained. You were certain he’d have somehow overheard you in the lobby if you did and that would’ve been mildly embarrassing.

Once you’d finally made it down to the lobby, your stomach had been full of excited and anticipatory nerves. The moment you exited the elevator, your eyes scanned the large, ornately decorated hotel lobby for Matt, trying to find him among the people milling about. When you spotted him relaxed on an armchair, his cane folded in his lap and his covered gaze already fixed on you, you came to a sudden stop. As if in slow motion you had watched a charming smile spread wide across his beautiful mouth, the sight nearly taking your breath away. Because this was your first date with him .

Those nerves were still fluttering in your stomach now, even after Matt and you had walked hand in hand to the coffee shop through the snowy sidewalks of Hell’s Kitchen. The ridiculous jokes you’d both exchanged back and forth while waiting to order your coffees had somewhat managed to ease those anxious butterflies in your stomach, but now that the pair of you were seated at a small table in the back of the coffee shop, they were hard to ignore. The entire situation felt so intimate and surreal with just the two of you sitting so close together and being so openly aware of your feelings for each other. And it definitely didn’t help that you couldn’t stop staring at his lips every time he spoke, remembering just how tenderly and passionately they had kissed you last night. You’d fallen asleep thinking about that kiss.

You were still thinking about that kiss.

“You’re nervous,” Matt pointed out, breaking the brief silence that had fallen shortly after the pair of you had sat down.

“Yeah, well,” you began, lowering your coffee mug back to the table, “I never thought that you’d, you know, want to date me.”

Matt pulled a face, his head cocking to the side. “I still don’t understand how you ever thought that,” he mused.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Pretty sure we’ve beaten that topic like a dead horse over the past few months, Matt,” you pointed out. “You know how I thought that.”

“Okay,” Matt agreed with a chuckle, “you’re right. We certainly have discussed in depth how entirely oblivious we were all this time.”

“And it’s rather depressing,” you mumbled, eyes dropping down to your mug.

“Well,” he said, easily draping his arm across your shoulders, “we’re making up for it now.”

You flushed as you felt his fingers begin to absently dance across your shoulder, just over the fabric of your sweater. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a grin spread across Matt’s lips, the movement only giving you yet another reason to look over and stare at them again. Would you have another chance to kiss him this morning? Because you really hoped so.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Matt told you, his words catching you off guard. “I’ve always thought so, but I never thought you'd want to hear that from me.”

Gaze timidly dropping back down to the table, you ducked your head, overcome with a sudden shyness at his compliment. You could feel the way your pulse was unsteadily jumping in your throat, your cheeks flaming. This moment didn’t feel real to you. You’d seen Matt flirt and sleep with countless other women–many of which you’d classify as model-like–and here he was calling you beautiful with every ounce of sincerity in his tone. It almost felt like too much.

Matt’s hand slid its way across your back, the movement causing your eyelids to flutter closed briefly–you wished he would touch you some more. Preferably somewhere where you both weren't in public. But then you felt his fingers gently grasp your chin, gingerly turning your face back towards his. Gradually your eyes slid up to meet the red lenses of his glasses.

“I have always wanted you,” Matt stated, a serious expression on his face as he spoke. “We’ve known each other for years and I have–have wanted this day for so long. And with you going back to LA in a few days, I don’t want to waste a single moment of the time I’ve got with you here. So please don't be nervous with me, sweetheart," he almost pleaded. “You don’t need to be.”

"Sort of hard not to be," you whispered, your fingers toying with the handle of your mug.

“You’ve gotten drunk around me how many times?” Matt pointed out, his brows darting up onto his forehead as a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I’ve had you spit out orange juice on me–”

“That was because Foggy did an incredible impression of you rolling out of bed grumpy that morning,” you defended quickly, cutting him off. “And I hadn’t been expecting it. And it was a spot on impression of you.”

“Debatable,” Matt said dismissively. “But the point stands. You’ve spent how many years around me being yourself now? Relax.” Matt’s hand released your chin only to slip under the table and reassuringly squeezing your upper thigh. “It’s just me.”

You quickly became very aware of each of his digits pressing into your skin through the denim of your jeans. It was hard to focus on anything else but the weight of his hand resting on your thigh and how badly you wished it would inch just a bit higher. Breath coming in sharper, you tried to control your thoughts. After all, the pair of you were still sitting in a coffee shop. And it was only the first date.

“That’s sort of uh,” you paused, clearing your throat when you felt Matt’s hand abruptly tighten around your thigh, “sort of the reason. Because it’s you, Matt.”

Matt shifted in his chair, turning towards you and leaning in closer. In that moment, you completely forgot about everyone else in the coffee shop. It was just you and Matt. He reached his other hand up, pulling the glasses from his face and setting them down onto the table beside your coffees. Without them obstructing the view of his face, you saw that his hazel eyes looked more vibrant with the morning sun reflecting off the snow outside and hitting him just right through the window. You would absolutely never get over how attractive he was; it had always been almost painful to you all those years you’d yearned for him.

“You were the one who was always out of reach,” you confessed, the words just slipping out of your mouth before you could stop them. “The one I always saw with everyone else. The one I…never felt good enough for.”

Matt leaned in further, his dark brows pinching together on his forehead as if your words had physically pained him to hear. He shook his head lightly, his face hovering half a foot away from yours.

“You’ve always been far too good for me,” he murmured. “Far too good.”

Pulling a face, you shook your head at his words. “Matt, don’t. That’s not true.”

He didn’t respond and another silence fell over the pair of you, Matt’s face still hovering half a foot away from yours. Inevitably your eyes dropped down towards his lips. They looked so full and soft. You bet anything that his mouth tasted exactly like the roast he was drinking. That thought had your jaw clenching as you refrained from closing the distance between the pair of you. Matt’s hand slid just a fraction higher up your thigh and your eyelids partially dropped closed. For a moment you forgot how to breathe.

“What if I asked you to kiss me?” he whispered.

Trying to control your racing heart, your eyes rose back up to meet his. He was staring at you with that same intensity he’d had last night when he’d walked you home and kissed you. Your tongue slipped out, nervously wetting your lips as your stomach anxiously twisted at the prospect of you kissing him . Matt’s eyes only dropped further down from your cheek, his eyes very focused on your mouth as his own twitched at the corners.

“Right now?” you breathed out. “Here?”

“Yes,” he replied.

He leaned in just a bit closer as you internally fought with yourself. You desperately wanted to kiss him, but even though he’d just asked you to, you somehow feared he’d reject you. But when he leant in just a bit more, the tip of his nose brushing against yours, your right hand automatically reached up and landed on his stubbled cheek. The moment you’d touched him, Matt’s eyes closed and he expelled the softest sigh that you’d almost missed. Encouraged by his reaction, you’d gathered whatever courage you had and closed your eyes before closing the remaining distance between the both of you.

He tasted exactly like the rich roast he was drinking. And as Matt’s mouth moved confidently back against yours, your fear of rejection quickly disappeared. Craving more of him, your fingers gripped his cheek as you drew his mouth in more firmly to yours. Matt obliged easily, his hand sliding to the outside of your thigh before it traveled its way up to your waist as he kissed you.

You were so intent on kissing him that you’d nearly forgotten to breathe. Which was probably why you were taken by surprise when he broke away from you, sitting back in his seat as your eyes blinked back open. Trying to catch your breath, the sound of Matt’s breathy chuckle had you fast remembering that you were in a public place. Again .

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting you to do that,” he told you, a boyish grin on his face.

Still trying to recover from that kiss, resting a hand against your flushed cheek, you let out a nervous laugh. “Probably about as long as I have,” you replied.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Matt began, that grin only growing on his face. “I have wanted you to kiss me long before I even knew your name.”

Another nervous laugh slipped out of your mouth as you reached over, grabbing your coffee. “Well, maybe next time we can do that in a less public place for once,” you said.

“Oh? Is that right?” Matt nearly purred.

Realizing the implication of what you’d just said, your eyes grew wide and you stiffened in your seat. “That’s–that’s not what I meant,” you told him, hand tightening awkwardly around the handle of your coffee mug.

“So you don’t want that?” he asked coyly.

“I–well–I mean I’ve–” you stammered, struggling to find an answer as Matt’s lips curled up in amusement. “I mean I’ve obviously thought about that, but not in the middle of a coffee shop!” you blurted.

Matt barked out a warm laugh, a broad smile breaking across his face that drew the single dimple out in his cheek. His eyes were shining brightly back at you, the corners of them creased.

“Obviously,” Matt teased. “I think that’s a little too far even for me.”

Running a hand across your forehead, you let out a frustrated sigh. “This has got to be your worst first date,” you muttered under your breath.

“Actually,” he immediately countered, “it’s been my favorite.”

Glancing up at him beneath your lashes, you saw the genuine smile on his face. That smile alone melted all your nerves. Because he was right, he was the same Matt you’d spent years being yourself with. The one you were hopelessly in love with. And he wanted this just as much as you did.

“How’s your second semester starting off?” you asked Karen.

You speared a piece of your french toast, bringing the fork to your mouth for a bite. Karen shrugged her shoulders from across the table as she worked on cutting up her stack of pancakes.

“About as crazy and stressful as the last one started out,” she told you. “Which is to be expected in law school, I suppose. But I’m grateful that Foggy and Matt were able to pull some strings and get me into Columbia, so I try not to complain.”

“Hopefully you can keep up with the coursework while still working at their office,” you replied. “That’s got to be a lot all at once.”

Karen brought a forkful of food to her lips as she shrugged again. “It is, but it’ll be worth it in the end,” she said. “But what about you?” she asked, gesturing her fork at you. “I notice you’ve been strategically avoiding the topic of your morning with Matt. How’d that coffee date go?”

You couldn’t fight the smile that instantly made its way onto your lips at the mention of this morning. The coffee date had gone well, especially once you’d stopped being so shy around Matt. You’d certainly enjoyed yourself, the pair of you chatting and joking. Considering you’d both been speaking daily for weeks now, there wasn’t much to catch back up on. But you’d most certainly enjoyed the goodbye kiss he’d given you outside your hotel lobby earlier. It was the most chaste kiss the two of you had shared so far, but it still left you giddy just thinking about it.

“Good,” you answered her, spearing another piece of french toast. “Really good, actually.”

“Oh?” Karen asked, curiosity alighting in her eyes as she set her own fork down. “Does really good mean you two have actually kissed?”

Bottom lip slipping between your teeth, you nodded slowly in response. Karen’s eyes grew wide as she gasped. Seconds later you were laughing as she began to bounce excitedly in her chair.

“Why did you wait until just now to tell me that?” she asked. “Tell me everything! I’m dying to know!”

“Well,” you began, lowering your own fork back to your plate, “he actually kissed me last night. When he walked me back to the hotel.”

Karen leaned forward in her chair, listening with rapt attention. You felt a heat creep up your neck as you recalled that moment, your eyes drifting down towards your partially eaten breakfast.

“It was…honestly better than I could have ever imagined it would be,” you admitted. “I had thought about it often over the years, you know? Wondering what it would be like to actually kiss him, and it was far better than I ever thought it could be.” Your eyes met Karen’s again, your stomach fluttering just at the memory. “It was a butterflies in your stomach, leaving you breathless and dizzy sort of a first kiss. I’ve…never felt that with anyone else before.”

Karen’s smile only widened further on her face. “So have you kissed since last night?” she pressed.

“Twice today,” you told her. “And I’ll be honest, the sexual tension is definitely there.”

Karen giggled, rolling her eyes as she sat back in her chair. “I can only imagine. You saw him everyday for years and couldn’t ever touch him like that,” she said. “I’m sure you’re both dying for more.”

“Yeah, I uh, I don’t think it’s just me,” you replied nervously.

“So, are you going to sleep with him while you’re here then?” she asked.

Your eyes went wide at her blunt question. It had taken you off guard. Because honestly, you hadn’t really thought about that when you’d left to come here. Things were still confusing with you living in LA and Matt living in Hell’s Kitchen. You figured if you slept with Matt, that would most likely only make it harder for you to leave on Monday morning. Not to mention, you didn’t exactly know what you two technically were just yet, either. It was something you planned to discuss with him Sunday night at dinner with him.

“I don’t know,” you confessed. “I guess I never really thought that far ahead. I knew he wanted to take me on some dates while I was here but I–I guess I didn’t expect things to go so well. And I’m admittedly afraid of getting too serious too quickly when I have to leave in a couple of days. Sleeping with him might just…complicate things further?”

“True,” Karen mused, nodding slightly. “But not sleeping with him when you have the chance might be something you regret. It might be a while before you get the opportunity again.”

“He did say he was coming out to visit me in March,” you reminded her.

Karen tilted her head to the side, shooting you a pointed look as she raised one of her blonde brows.

“You mean to tell me that you’re not going to be wishing you’d slept with him now while you’re waiting for the chance over the next couple of months?” she asked flatly. “Because I don’t buy that.”

“Okay, yeah, I probably will,” you relented. “But it might be worse if I sleep with him now and then don’t see him again for a couple of months. Especially since we’re still, you know, figuring this all out.”

Karen picked her fork back up, stabbing a piece of pancake and bringing it to her lips. The fork paused just before her mouth, her eyes narrowing curiously at you. You raised a questioning brow back at her.

“Have you thought about moving back?” she asked.

She popped the piece of pancake into her mouth, chewing it as she watched you release a deep sigh. Settling back into your chair, your gaze dropped over to the window on your right. Snow was coming down a little heavier now, the white flakes actually beginning to stick outside.

“I’ve considered it,” you admitted. “But there’s not exactly an opening for me back in Hell’s Kitchen at my company. Not at the moment at least.”

“But you’re open to moving back?” Karen questioned.

“If things with Matt continue to progress,” you answered her slowly, your gaze gradually rising up to meet hers, “yeah. I’ve been considering coming back.”

A massive smile drew itself across Karen’s face as she nearly threw her fork onto the table. “Holy shit!” she exclaimed. “That’s amazing news!”

You instantly held up a hand, waving it at her and cutting off her excitement. You watched as her smile quickly fell.

“But do not mention this to Matt or Foggy,” you warned her. “Me being open to moving back doesn’t mean things will work out to where I actually can sometime soon. And I don’t want to give either of them false hope, Kare. I don’t know what will happen.”

Karen’s smile quickly returned to her mouth as she straightened in her seat. Picking her fork back up, she said, “I have a feeling things will find a way to work themselves out. Just like they did with you and Matt.”

You laughed lightly, glancing down at your plate. “Yeah, and that only took seven years,” you muttered.

Washing your face with a washcloth, you lathered your skin and scrubbed the day from off of your face. It was getting late and you were exhausted, but the little nighttime ritual you had before bed felt relaxing after the eventful day you’d had.

Matt had once again asked to walk you back to your hotel after your evening at Josie’s a little over an hour ago. Earlier you’d met up with him, Karen, Foggy, and Marci and enjoyed your night out. Especially when Foggy had wrangled you into a game of pool with him and Karen versus you and Matt. Outside of the obvious competition during the game, there had definitely been a lot of little secret flirtatious touches between you and Matt as the night wore on, though you were very aware of the fact that only you had been getting a slight buzz from drinking. Matt had told you he planned to stay sober because of what he was doing afterwards–heading out as Daredevil.

Knowing that’s what he was going out to do after he’d walked you home had weighed heavy on your mind as you’d been up in your room. You’d certainly been worrying about him the moment he’d parted ways with you in front of the hotel and said goodnight. And even though you’d known about him being Daredevil for a while now and you knew that’s how he spent most of his evenings, you still couldn’t help but worry about him. Though some nights he had called you when he’d gotten back from his nights out as Daredevil because you were three hours behind in LA. He’d quickly learned those calls helped to ease your mind about him.

Turning on the bathroom sink’s faucet and running the water, you cupped some of it in your hands before splashing it onto your face and rinsing off the soap a few times. Afterwards, you dried your face on one of the soft hotel towels, feeling even more worn out and ready for bed. Setting the towel onto the bathroom counter, you turned and trudged your way out of the bathroom and over towards your unkempt bed.

But you almost screamed when you saw someone standing on your balcony.

“It’s just me,” Daredevil’s muffled voice came through the glass of the sliding door not even a second later. He gestured a hand at the door. “Can you let me in?”

Heart still hammering away in your chest from the scare, suddenly feeling very awake now, you made your way over to the balcony door. Matt hadn’t told you he planned to stop by tonight–certainly not like this–and you briefly hoped no one outside had noticed him. That was the last thing you needed–someone spotting Daredevil on your hotel balcony.

Unlocking the door, you slid it open and stepped to the side to give Matt plenty of space. He easily slipped through the opening, closing the door after himself before he reached a hand out, drawing the curtains entirely closed over the glass. That somehow made you feel even more alone with Matt, your heart continuing to unsteadily pound at a rapid pace.

Taking a step back from him, you couldn’t resist taking in the sight of Matt in his tight red suit. You’d never actually seen him as Daredevil before; the time Elektra had dropped him off beaten and bloody at your previous apartment all that time ago he’d been wearing the black suit. If you were being honest, you’d quite enjoyed seeing him in that black suit, too. It had certainly not left much to the imagination. But this suit, while not as form-fitting, was certainly drawing your eye to the various muscled planes of his body. He was so incredibly solid .

Matt’s hands rose up, the gesture breaking your ogling of his muscles as he slipped the helmet off of his head with one hand, running his other through his messy hair. He was grinning back at you, though the look was more devilish than anything with his face now unobstructed by the helmet. There was an obvious glint of mischief in his eyes as they focused near your face.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” you told him.

Matt shrugged as he continued to run a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “Figured I’d make the most of your time here in Hell’s Kitchen,” he said, taking a few steps into the room and setting his helmet on the end of your bed. “I can go if you’d prefer, though?”

He straightened up, shooting you an inquisitive look. One of his dark brows had risen up onto his forehead as his head tilted to the side. His eyes dropped down towards your chest and you awkwardly crossed your arms over it, aware he was listening to your heart.

“No,” you replied quickly, shaking your head. “I mean, it’s fine. I’m not complaining. You just startled me. Especially showing up like, well, that .”

You waved a hand at his Daredevil suit before crossing it back over your chest. Gradually Matt began pulling the gloves off each of his hands, the movement slow and purposeful. His head was still tilted to the side, a cocky grin on his lips now.

“Yeah, I noticed I startled you. I’m sorry about that,” he apologized, a smugness to his tone. “I wasn’t trying to. It just wasn’t a busy night for once so I thought I’d stop by. But,” he continued, that grin on his mouth only growing as his eyes lingered along your chest, “I noticed that wasn’t all you felt at the sight of me.”

Brows drawing together, you hugged your arms tighter across your chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked.

Matt dropped his gloves onto the bed beside his helmet, your eyes following their movements. God were his hands ever a distraction to you, especially all those times you had watched him work on homework in the past, his fingers so carefully running across the braille. You’d often thought about those hands touching you late at night while you were in your dorm room.

Matt’s grin remained on his lips as he pointed a finger at your chest. “Your heart rate is still elevated and I’ve been here for a couple of minutes now, sweetheart. If that was due to the adrenaline from the shock of seeing me on your balcony then it would have slowed by now. But it hasn’t.” His hand raised a bit, pointing up at your face. “And you’re flushing yet again–I can feel the temperature increase from here. Which tells me I’m not wrong because you're nervous.”

“Okay, and?” you asked, stomach twisting into anxious knots.

Matt’s hand lowered back to his side as he studied you for a moment. His eyes were narrowed just a bit, his gaze back on your chest. Lips parting just slightly, his tongue slid out and wet them, your eyes drawn to the movement. For a brief moment he bit down on that bottom lip and you felt a sudden urge to bite it yourself, your hands curling into fists as you tried to push the thought away.

Matt began to cross the room towards you without a word, slowly stalking his way over towards you. His gait was almost predatory as he moved–the smirk now on his lips only adding to that. Whether it was the suit on him or the muscle behind it, there was a dangerous edge to him that wasn’t usually present when you were around Matt normally. It simultaneously excited you and made you nervous right now–and you knew he could tell.

When he eventually came to a stop just before you, you could feel the cold emanating from his suit and it rose the hairs along your forearms. You figured he must have been outside for some time, scouring rooftops in the snow looking for criminals.

Why did the thought of that turn you on so much?

“And,” he said softly, his ungloved hand rising to cradle the side of your face, “I happen to remember someone mentioning wanting to resume things in a more private setting.”

Your breath caught in your throat as Matt's hand tilted your face up more towards his, the implication in his words hanging heavy in the air. Unwrapping your arms from around yourself, both of your hands landed on Matt’s armored chest. The strange material felt hard and frigid beneath them, a chill running over you as you gazed up at Matt’s face. You absolutely wanted to take advantage of him being here alone in your hotel room. So far you’d only had opportunities to see him in public since you’d been back. Seeing him as Daredevil now certainly had you wanting to know what it would be like to kiss Matt without an audience for once. Without the need to hold back because you weren’t alone. Though, as you’d told Karen earlier, you weren’t ready to have sex with Matt. Not with the undefined situation between you both.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t want him kissing you until your mind went blank, feeling his hands finally roaming all over your body.

“Is that still something you want?” Matt murmured.

The pad of his thumb slid down towards your lips, brushing its way incredibly slowly across them. Your lips parted as a soft gasp fell out between them, your knees quivering as you felt faint just from the way he was touching you. Matt’s other hand was soon at your waist, gripping you firmly as he held you upright and kept you steady.

“I don’t think we should–should take things too far just yet,” you breathed out, struggling to form the words with him touching you like he was. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t–”

Matt’s head cocked to the side, his eyes intensely focused on your mouth as you spoke. But you couldn’t quite find the courage to finish your train of thought. You wanted to tell him that it didn’t mean the pair of you couldn’t do almost anything else tonight. You wanted him to keep touching you. Wanted his mouth back on yours. You had wanted that for so damn long that you just wanted to kiss him and never stop kissing him now that you actually could .

“So I can kiss you?” Matt asked.

“Mhmm,” you hummed out, nodding eagerly back at him.

“What about–” Matt began softly, his hand making its way from your hip and towards your lower back, slipping underneath your loose shirt and pressing itself flat against your bare skin, “–touching you?”

Teeth clamping down on your bottom lip, you nodded vigorously in response. Your knees were definitely shaking now, goosebumps rising across the length of your arms. The warmth of his palm on your lower back felt impossibly good, your fingers beginning to curl against his suit, your nails digging in.

“So no sex?” Matt clarified.

You shook your head, hating yourself even as you did. “Not this time,” you whispered. “It’s just, this is all so new with us,” you explained, your brain struggling to keep a coherent thought as Matt’s warm palm slid higher up your back. “And I leave in a couple of days, and–”

“You don’t have to justify your reasons, sweetheart,” Matt gently cut you off. “I can wait for that. But if I’m being honest, I can’t wait any longer to kiss you.”

“Then don’t,” you blurted.

As if that was all the confirmation Matt needed, he dove forward and pressed his mouth to yours. Taken by surprise, you’d almost lost your footing as your eyes fell closed, but Matt’s hand on your back pulled you forward, crushing you into the front of himself. You could feel his blunt nails digging into your skin as his mouth connected to yours over and over, leaving you gasping for breath each time he did. Your own hands slid their way up towards his face, grabbing it in both of your palms and desperately trying to deepen the kiss further. Forgetting all about your previous nerves with your mind focused only on the feel of Matt, your teeth bit onto his bottom lip and tugged . Something like a snarl rumbled in Matt’s chest in response and a shiver rippled down your spine at the sound.

Without warning, Matt’s hand snaked its way from your cheek to the back of your neck, his tongue finding its way into your mouth. His hand slid even higher up your back, his nails lightly dragging along your skin as he began to walk you backwards.

Barely coherent with Matt's tongue sensually exploring your mouth with such determined focus, a startled gasp flew out of you when your back hit a wall. Matt only grunted in response, his hand abruptly gliding its way down your back, a shiver running through you at the scratch of his nails. A second later that large palm of his grabbed your ass firmly and then squeezed . You moaned into his mouth instantly, the sound causing Matt to break away from you with a hiss of pleasure shooting out through his teeth. Resting his forehead against yours, Matt bucked his hips forward into you. The noticeable bulge in his suit had you arching your back along the wall.

"Matt," you whimpered.

Matt whined at the sound of his name, his labored breathing filling your ears as the sound mixed with your own loud pants in the room. He gripped your ass again and you couldn't resist the urge to grind forward into him, the action involuntary as a wet heat began to form between your thighs.

"You have no idea how many times," Matt breathed out, still trying to catch his breath, "that I've tried to imagine what it would be like to hear you like this. To hear you say my name like that."

He audibly swallowed hard and somehow that sound was quickly sobering. If the pair of you continued like this, you weren’t sure you'd be able to stop. Given another minute, you’d surely let him tear your clothes off and fuck you right here against the wall.

"We should–should probably–"

"Slow down," Matt agreed, huffing out a laugh. "I don't think I could control myself, sweetheart. Not with you. Not with how long I've wanted this."

He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before he continued, his forehead still resting against yours.

"And you've been drinking," he pointed out, "This isn't–isn’t how I wanted this to be with you. I want you to be sure of things."

Matt reluctantly took a step back from you, his hands returning to his sides as he placed an obvious distance between the pair of you. His chest was visibly heaving, his eyes fixed along your own chest again. You were still leaning against the wall, lightheaded and trying to catch your breath. You couldn’t help but notice just how good he looked with his face flushed and his lips swollen from kissing you.

"I want to do this right with you," Matt told you, a sheepish smile on his face. "Not just–just show up on the balcony outside your hotel room dressed like this,” he said waving a hand at his suit. “And if I'm being honest, I always had somewhere in mind to take you to dinner for a date, and I really want to do that first."

Your cheeks heated at his confession, your heart swelling in your chest. "You did?" you whispered.

"Yeah," he said, his expression further softening. “I’d thought about it a lot over the years we were at Columbia. Pictured taking you there. Even after college,” he continued, “I’d thought about it then, too. Wondered if I would ever get the chance to take you on this date that I’d thought about for years. But yes,” Matt nodded, that sheepish smile on his face turning soft. “I think you’re right. We shouldn’t take this any farther just yet. I don’t want to rush anything with you.”

Running a hand through your hair, you blinked hard a few times as his words settled in your mind. “Do you uh,” you paused, clearing your throat. “Do you want to just stay here for a bit? Maybe tell me about your not so exciting night out instead?”

A warmth overtook Matt’s face, reaching his eyes as he nodded again. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites @cloudroomblog @prince-tassel @danzer8705 @yourlocalbentspine @harperdoodle @hollandorks @mattmurdocksstarlight @yeonalie @will-delete-this-later-probably @darkened-writer @kmc1989 @yomamasitsaroundthehouse @sumo-b98 @mrs-bellingham

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock #matt murdock fanfic

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teenidlegirl · 1 year

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ❛ 𝓣𝐇𝐄 𝓕𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝓟𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄. ❜

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ❀ ˚◞ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 : 𝐚 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞

ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ miguel o’hara 𝓍 single mom!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡

ׄ ׅ ྀ 𝓢𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. it’s the day before your son’s birthday and you have to request the day off. when you ask your boss, your son surprises you at work. now, your boss knows your secret but his reaction surprises you.

ׄ ׅ ྀ 𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. fluff, an ounce of angst, family dynamics, backstories, spanish terms, mention of past relationships, mention of past pregnancies, softie!miguel

❛⠀ masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜

you have been working at HQ of the spider society for a year. you work as your boss’s assistant, the infamous miguel o’hara. known for his cocky and arrogant reputation. when you were recruited, you were a bit apprehensive. his intimidating demeanor, abnormal figure, and vampire-like abilities seemed overwhelming. during your first few days as his assistant, you were bashful and anxious. you rarely spoke words to him, just a simple “hello” and “goodnight” as well the occasional hums and nods. miguel noticed your anxious demeanor, he didn’t blame you. he reassured you in the most gentle and considerate manner. that changed your perspective of him. under the intimidating and aggressive demeanor, there is sincerity and sympathy.

as time went on, you and miguel grew to become good friends. seeing his compassionate nature made him gain your trust and you gained his. the entrusted friendship and bond you two shared bloomed beautifully. you two would share details of each other’s lives, backgrounds and current events. miguel opened up to you about his past, shared details that he never told to anyone. not even his closest colleagues like peter and jess. that proves how much he trusts you, and you appreciate it.

you put all of your effort and productivity into your role as assistant. complete all tasks, collecting and filing reports. miguel deeply appreciates your dedication and commitment. he values your work ethics and integrity. he adores the cup of coffee you bring for him each morning. the occasional check-up questions such as asking him if he has eaten, drank enough water, or slept well. no one has never been so considerate and thoughtful. it warms his heart.

due to your heavy dedication, you rarely request days off. when you do, it’s mainly for personal reasons or emergencies. miguel would encourage you to take some days off to rest, to not overload yourself. but, of course you insist that it isn’t necessary and you are perfectly fine. besides, you need the money so you can support yourself and your son, luca.

ever since you started working at HQ, you have never mentioned about your son to anyone, especially miguel. knowing his past, his daughter, you believe telling him would hurt him; affect him deeply. the last thing you want is to make miguel feel sorrowful. to prevent that, you kept your son a secret.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ 𓂃 ₊ ୧ 𓂃

it’s another day of work. the sunlight shimmers through the beige sheer curtains, illuminating your bedroom. the bed sheets hug you so deeply, it’s a struggle to get out of your comfy bed. but like always, you have to get up and get ready for work.

resisting the delicious comfort of the bed, you slowly pull the covers off. just as you’re about to sit up, luca scrambles into your room and jumps onto the bed filled with enthusiasm.

“mamá!” luca exclaims, jumping on top of you and hugs you tightly.

you gasp at his sudden appearance, instinctively wrapping your arms around and embracing him. “qué paso, mijo?” you place a kiss on his head, running your fingers through his hair.

he lifts up his head and looks at you with a big smile. “are you going to ask your boss to not work tomorrow for my birthday?”

“aww sí, mijo. of course i will.” you smile at him, gently rubbing his head.

“yay! thanks, mamá!” luca hugs you again.

you softly chuckle, embracing your son before pulling back. “okay, mijo. you have to get ready before tia cece comes to pick you up.”

“okay, mamá!” he said, hopping off the bed and running back into his room down the hall.

you smile as you watch him leave before turning that smile into a pouty face. you rarely request days off unless it’s personal or an emergency, and miguel knows that. to be honest, you’re a little nervous to ask him since it’s for luca’s birthday. you kept luca as a secret from your boss, as well as everyone else. the best solution is to simply ask and tell him it’s for personal reasons. you pray he won’t ask for the actual truth and just understands.

snapping out of the negative thoughts, you get out of bed and walk to your dresser. once you picked out your clothes, you head over to luca’s room just to check up on him. he is playing with his toys on the floor. a little smile forms on your lips at the sight.

you head to the bathroom and take a shower. after showering and getting dressed, you exit the bathroom and head back to luca’s room.

“tia cece will be here in 15 minutes. have you had cereal or do you want me to make you breakfast?” you asked as you crouched next to him, softly smiling at him and gently brushing his hair.

“can i have huevos con weeines, please?!” he pleads.

“of course, mijo.” you smile as you plant a kiss his forehead. you stand up and walk out of his room, heading to the kitchen.

after about 5 minutes of cooking, you pour the meal into a plastic bowl and placed it on the dining table.

“luca! tú comida is ready!” you shout.

you hear footsteps approaching. luca rushes into the kitchen and sits down at the table. while he eats his breakfast, you pack your lunch and prepare your tote bag with your belongings. you snack on a piece of pan con mantequilla as your breakfast.

the doorbell rings; it’s your sister cece.

“tia cece is here.” you announced, walking up to the front door and opening it.

“hey sis.” cece greets you with a hug and a side kiss. she turns and looks at luca. “hey, little man!”

“tia cece!” luca hops off from the chair with excitement and runs to her.

cece crouches down and opens her arms, capturing him in a hug. “how’ve you been?” she asked, smiling.

“bien! are we going to museum today?” he asked.

“sí, mijo. with your cousins.” cece smiles at him.

“yay!” luca exclaims, hugging her once again.

she chuckles then stands up, looking at you. “i’ll drop him off at the same time.”

you simply nod. “make sure he eats some veggies.” you glance at him, teasing a little smile at him. “he needs that nutrition.”

both you and cece laugh, luca groans in annoyance.

“i promise. don’t drown yourself in too much work.” cece joked but clearly means it, grabbing luca’s hand and stands at the door.

you just laugh as you grabbed your tote bag and house keys. once you put on your heels, all of you exit your apartment. locking the door, you turn and crouched down in front of luca.

“have a great day, mijo. be sure to listen to tia cece.” you cup his face and kiss his forehead.

“i will, mamá!” luca smiles at you.

“thanks, cece. i’ll see you later.” you hug cece.

she hugs you back. “of course.”

you both start departing, walking in opposite directions.

“bye, mijo! té quiero.” you wave at your son, blowing a kiss at him while walking away.

“bye mamá! té quiero mucho!” he waves back as he walks away with cece, holding hands with her.

you smile at him before walking away.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ 𓂃 ₊ ୧ 𓂃

approaching his office, carrying your touch pad with filed reports in your hand, your anxiety creeps in. with each step, the more you feel nervous. this is your chance to ask him about requesting tomorrow off for luca’s birthday. all you can pray is him granting your request and just leave it at that.

you reach the front of his office, the glass door sliding as you enter. your heels echo the room considering it’s usually quiet in his office.

miguel is up on his platform, looking at the various orange screens in front of him. he hears high heals, knowing it’s you. a little smile forms on his lips.

“hey. i brought the reports you requested.” you said softly, stopping at the little desk that is beside you.

“thanks, [y/n]. just leave them there.” he gestures at the little desk, still looking at the screens.

as instructed, you place the touch pad on the desk. normally, you would walk yourself out of his office and resume to your work in your mini office. you need to ask him before you lose the opportunity. however, your anxiety isn’t helping you right now. you have never been this nervous, especially towards miguel, not since you first met him.

you hesitate, fiddling with your hands as a coping mechanism. you inhale deep breaths to calm yourself, regulate your breathing as much as you can. once you managed to calm down, you finally speak.

“hey. do you mind if i request tomorrow off?” your voice shakes a little, still fiddling with your hands.

miguel froze for a second. he knows you only request days off for personal reasons or in case of emergencies. he is genuinely curious, or a little concerned. did something happen? is it an emergency? a few thoughts ran through his mind.

he turns half of his body around, looking down at you from where is he standing. “sure. everything alright?” he asked sincerely.

“yeah. it’s just personal.” you rushed out your words, still a nervous wreck. you try concealing your nerves by giving a small smile, hands still fiddling.

he notice your nervousness, he isn’t blind. you acted like this when you began working for him. miguel reassured you and became great friends afterwards. you both trust each other. why are you suddenly nervous towards him again? did he do something wrong? now, he’s concerned.

jumping off of his platform, miguel slowly approaches you with a genuine concern expression. “is there something wrong?”

oh shit. he’s asking for the truth. you can’t tell him, you know what will happen. you take a step back from his approach. “nope! it’s just a family matter.” you answered nervously. that isn’t a total lie, it is a family matter but you can’t reveal your secret.

miguel is confused when you stepped back from him. why are you backing away from him? he doesn’t mean harm or anything. his brows frown in a concerning manner, lips pouting. not wanting you to keep stepping away, he stops and just stands there.

“are you sure?” he voice his concern.

“yes. everything is fine. no wor—“ you are cut off by lyla, who magically appears between you two.

“hey [y/n]. your son is here looking for you. peter b found him in the cafeteria. he’s bringing him here.” the ai informs them vanishes in the air.

silence fills the office. neither you or miguel speak a word to each other. your secret is exposed.

miguel stands still in complete shock, practically dumbfounded. you have a son? you’re a mother? this shocking information felt like a slap in the face. he never knew you were a mother. you never mentioned it before. why didn’t you tell him? is that why you’re requesting tomorrow off?

your whole body froze. your secret is exposed and miguel knows. just how you feared. now, you are afraid of his reaction. what will he say? your anxiety increases as negative thoughts and possibilities flow through your mind.

before either of you could speak, the glass door slides open and peter b enters office, holding luca’s hand as he approaches you both.

“hey [y/n]. i found your son in the cafeteria. he was looking for you and some possible snacks.” peter adds a little humor at the end.

“mamá!” luca shouts, letting go of peter’s hand and running towards you.

you crouch down and sprang your arms open to catch him. luca runs into your arms and hugs you with the biggest smile on his face. instinctively, you wrap your arms around him and hugged him back.

“luca. qué haces aquí? why are you here?” you asked, voicing your concern as you caresses his face.

“i wanted to surprise you! and i missed you!” he smiles at you.

miguel’s heart melts at the sight. part of him is still shocked by the reveal but he is mainly in awe. your son is adorable, looks like you. same dark chocolate hair and eyes but he’s a bit tanner.

a quiet sigh escapes from you. “luca, you know i’m busy at work. but i’m happy that you did.” you softly smile at him before realizing he’s just by himself, your sister nowhere to be seen. “where’s your tia cece?”

“she’s in the bathroom. did you ask your boss about tomorrow?” he asked, smiling as always.

a feeling of relief flows through you that luca didn’t just walked in by himself. you let out another quiet, soft sigh of relief. “yes. and he said yes.” you softly smiled at your son.

“yay!” he exclaims, hugging you again.

you softly chuckle as you hugged him back. your boy is happy; all you wished for. then, realization kicks in when you remembered miguel has been watching the entire time. pulling from the hug, you slowly stand up and turn to face him, handing luca’s hand.

you struggle to make eye contact with him. you are still nervous but you managed to speak, gently tightening your grip on your son’s hand as comfort. “miguel… this is my son, luca.”

miguel gazes at luca, a little smile on his lips.

luca happily waved at him, smiling. “wow you’re big. just like mamá said.” he lets go of your hand and walks up to miguel, fascinated by his large figure. “you’re the biggest spiderman i’ve ever seen.”

“luca…” you reprehend your son, feeling a bit embarrassed.

miguel lowly chuckles at his comment, crouching down in front of him with a small smile on his face. “yeah. i get that a lot.” he finds it so adorable how fascinated luca is by his appearance.

peaked with curiosity as kids usually are, luca gently pokes miguel’s arms and biceps.

“luca don’t…” you slowly approach both of them, standing beside your son.

“it’s okay, [y/n].” miguel said softly, still has his gaze locked on luca as the boy continues to wonder.

you just stand there, watching your son playfully poking around miguel’s arms and face. in full honesty, the interaction between them is adorable. how deeply fascinated luca is about miguel and him allowing your son to mess around. the sight warms your heart, causing you to smile. you never believed miguel and luca would connect so quickly, or miguel behaving normal. he isn’t emotional or uncomfortable, instead visibly happy to meet luca.

“hey! you should come to my birthday party tomorrow!” luca smiles brightly at him.

now he knows your reason to request tomorrow off; it’s your son’s birthday. of course he will grant it.

both yours and miguel’s hearts melt at his plead. however, you’re not sure if it’s possible. miguel is a busy man, leader of the spider society. he rarely has time off, always occupied with missions and regulating the multiverse.

“aw mijo, he can’t. he’s very busy.” you said, gingerly playing your hand on his shoulder.

“i’ll be there.” miguel said.

you immediately look at him with surprise, eyes widen. “really?” you are stunned. he is really willing to attend your son’s birthday party? to give up a day of being the leader of a marvelous team of heroes just to be with your son? your hearts warms even more.

“yes. i wouldn’t miss it for the multiverse.” he gaze shifts from you to luca, softly smiling.

“yay!” luca shouts with enthusiasm, giving miguel the biggest hug.

miguel softly chuckles, hugging him back.

you melt once again, seeing them hugging each other. a picture you never would ever see before.

“are you sure you can go?” you asked with a little concerned expression.

“yes. i’m sure.” he said softly, glancing at you with a small smile. miguel is more than happy to attend luca’s birthday party. he adores the little boy, such a sweet and kindhearted kid. luca definitely gets it from you, his wonderful mother.

you feel pleased, delighted that he will be there. you simply share the same smile at him.

luca pulls from the hug, jumping in excitement. “yay! spiderman is gonna be at my birthday party! it’s gonna be the best birthday ever!”

you and miguel laugh, smiling at him.

the glass door slides open. cece, your sister, enters the office. “oh there you are!” she walks up to you, mainly looking at luca. “you shouldn’t have run off like that, mijo.” she shifts her gaze from him to you. “sorry [y/n]. he wanted to visit you because he missed you a lot. i couldn’t stop him.”

“it’s okay, cece. at least he found me.” you said.

just before she could respond, cece’s attention is focused on miguel standing beside you. her brows raise in surprise. “whoa. who is the giant handsome man next to you?”

miguel chuckled at her comment. “i’m miguel, [y/n]’s boss.” he extends his hand out for cece to shake.

cece raises a brow in surprise, grinning. “ohhhh well, nice to meet you, miguel. i’m cece, [y/n]’s sister.” she greets him in a flirty manner, shaking his hand before giving you a wink.

you glare at her in embarrassment, a little bit of blush staining your cheeks.

“well, i think it’s time go.” cece clears her throat, looking back at luca. “we gotta go, mijo. your mom is still working.”

“i’ll walk you both out.” you said.

cece nods in agreement.

“come on, mijo. let’s take you back.” you gently grab his hand, gesturing to start walking.

“okay.” luca turns back, looking at miguel. “bye big spiderman!” he waves at him, smiling brightly.

“adiós, chiquito.” miguel waves back, returning the smile as he watch you walk away with luca and cece.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ 𓂃 ₊ ୧ 𓂃

after saying goodbye to luca and cece, you head back to miguel’s office. now that your secret is revealed, you have to explain to him. that anxious feeling from earlier torments you once again.

as you enter his office, you find miguel leaning against the little desk with his arms crossed over his broad chest. he glances at the floor until he hears you enter, immediately looking at you.

“is he heading home now?” he sincerely asked.

“yeah, my sister is taking him back to her house. i’m sorry about all of that. i know you’re probably upset.” you said nervously as you walk up to him, fiddling with your hands once again.

a little frown of concern forms on his face. “i’m not upset and don’t apologize, it’s understandable.” miguel lifts off from the desk and takes a step towards you. he knows it was just a little surprise. the last thing he wants is you feeling guilty. in fact, it bothers him a lot to see you distressed.

you quickly glance up at him with a brief smile before looking down, still fiddling with your hands. the nervousness building inside increases.

miguel detects the hand fiddling, a sign of anxiety and nervousness. he practically knows you well. now he feels bad but wants to reassure you with all his heart. “look… you don’t have explain yourself. it’s understandable, [y/n].”

you avoid eye contact, looking at the floor to conceal your nervous state. you know he means well but that anxious feeling is telling you otherwise. “i know… i was going to tell you but… i was afraid to…” you whispered that last phrase.

his heart drops at your confession. it felt like a stab to the heart. you were afraid of telling him about your son? oh his heart aches terribly. “why were you afraid?” he softly asked, takes a step closer.

you pause for a moment, inhaling a deep breath before explaining. you still avoid eye contact. “because i know how you are whenever someone mentions kids so… i didn’t want you to feel hurt.”

oh his heart drops drastically, more than ever. you kept your son a secret because of him. now miguel is absolutely gutted. you were protecting him from grief, heartache. he is the guilty one, not you. his heart aches painfully that his whole body aches.

“you didn’t. you shouldn’t have been afraid. i’m glad to know about your son. he’s a great kid and has an amazing mother.” miguel takes another step, looking at you with remorseful eyes. he means that last part.

his words improve your mood, feeling a bit relieved. that anxious feeling slowly faded away. finally, you look up at him with small smile. “thank you.”

he simply nods, returning the smile. acknowledging luca’s birthday tomorrow, miguel is curious how old will the little boy be turning. “so how old is he turning tomorrow?” he asked.

“five. he’s growing up so fast.” you said, recognizing how quick your son is growing up.

“five? wow. he definitely is.” miguel lowly chuckles.

“yeah. it feels like he was just born yesterday.” a flashback of his birth plays in your mind, softly smiling at the thought.

miguel recaps everything about you. you are 24 and luca is turning 5 tomorrow. he realizes you were young when he was born. “you were young when you had him, hm?”

“yeah. i was 19. i got pregnant at 18 during my freshman year of college. it was a struggle but with the help of my family, i managed to still do my studies while being pregnant.” you elaborate.

he is impressed, captivated by your efforts. how you managed to balance college and pregnancy. his admiration for you grows stronger.

“wow. that’s impressive.” he compliments sincerely. recalling your pregnancy during college, his mind wonders about the father. he isn’t necessarily in the picture, or at least not present. miguel is curious but hesitant, understanding it’s personal. although, the desperation to know consumes him.

“i don’t mean to pry, if you don’t mind me asking. what happened with the father?” he tenderly asked, now regretting since he’s asking something personal.

“no it’s okay! he was my boyfriend at the time. when i found out, he was so considerate and kind. he was very responsible about the pregnancy. and i’m forever grateful for everything he has done.” your voice changes into a sorrowful tone. “but when luca was two, we broke up because things weren’t working out between us. we share custody and are on good terms now.”

miguel is attentive to every word. he detects the change of tone in your voice when you mentioned the break up. totally understandable. his curiosity peaks when you mentioned you and your ex are on good terms now.

“is he still around or…” he knows he is pushing it but his curiosity takes over.

“he is but lives far away. he occasionally visits to spend time with luca. mainly his birthday and holidays.” you elaborate.

a little frown forms on his face. miguel understands work can be a pain, he knows certainly well, but he believes the child is more important. considering the fact luca’s father only visits on his birthday or holidays seem like barely any effort. now, miguel is determined to show up at the party, dressed in his suit and make luca happy.

“i’m sorry about that. it seems unfair.” he said.

“yeah but that’s the burden of working at a large corporation.” you give a weak smile.

miguel has a purpose, to make luca happy. to be by his side when his father can’t. that seems messed up and wrong but he doesn’t want the kid to feel abandoned by his father. miguel now genuinely cares for luca, such a kindhearted kid with a great future ahead of him. and you, taking care of luca by yourself as a single mom, he most definitely wants to be by your side. there is no denial of his feelings for you. the connection between you two, miguel sees you more than a friend. you are his comfort, the only person who makes him feel comfortable and valued. he wants to be more, and maybe this is his chance.

“well, i’ll most definitely be there tomorrow.” miguel said, a little smile forming on his lips.

you return the smile, heart warming up. “great.”

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @deputy-videogamer @kinkybandages @rosiepetalss @frankoreoz @chshiresins @topreice @loonalockley @l3laze

#꒰ ˖ ࣪ . 𐙚 ⊹ ꒱ — 𝓣𝐇𝐄 𝓕𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝓟𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄 .ᐟ #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #fanfic series

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