#I'm pretty sure I was like. 7 when she passed away tho | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ruumirmir · 7 months ago

Note

Object permanence is a real pain in the ass bc TRUE I too forget stuff unless it's literally in front of my face . also i need to start putting dividers amidst every other paragraph changing the topic of conversation 💀

omg bonus House of Wolves AU:

what do you think Loverboy's role would be in this AU? from what my little brain could understand from the animatic,, pantalone went to some kinda mora treasury vault? Alone? Arlecchino either followed him to ambush him,, or bc shes after a part of that wealth too.

omg what if Loverboy was dispatched to be on the other side, laying waste to the House of Hearth 👁👁 Gasp what if Arle stationed the magician siblings lyney lynette and freminny to protect the house. Gasp . idk im reaching at straws but this AU is anyways saur fascinating. 😭😭‼

AHAGAGHASJEJSS so far I'm noticing a pattern that dottore has found himself the number 1 targetted opp from roughly every harbinger ever 😭 in the same breath I think loverboy's prime target of harbinger murder would be Dottore as well. Saying this with the context of reader spending enough time in the Fatui to get to Know the other harbingers.

I mean theres only so much i can say about it with the minimal canon lore about unreleased harbingers + the mass delusion of headcanons ive seen everywhere. I might revise it again another time,, but as of now loverboy's opinion on the other harbingers should be something like:

Pierro - Big scary ancient fossilized man. Not a stick, he has the whole tree up his ass. 4/10

Capitano - Big scary eldritch horror. He's chill tho. Nods head in agreement when overhearing someone thirst over him. 6/10

Dottore - Explodes him with mind. Stay away from pantalone thats MY dysfunctional workplace situationship /jealousy. I hope your clones cannibalize you. 1/10

Columbina - So far so good. Let's keep it that way. Maintains approx distance of 20 meters whenever in vicinity. 3/10

Arlecchino - Threatning in the lowkey way. Not a fake bitch. Respectable single father of fifty kids. 7/10

Scaramouche - Something is so deeply wrong with this rat. I'd rather you were a fake smiley bitch than an upfront sadistic egomaniac. 2/10

Signora - There's worse women out there I'm sure. Having pretty priviledge is like god's saving grace if you were to interact with her. 4/10

Childe - He should be at the club. Relatively the sanest man to hold a conversation with. No i do not want to fight you- do you want me to inform Regrator that you're here to visit? He'd like to reach you about your car's extended warran- 9/10

Pantalone - His roman empire. ?/10

Sandrone - (As arlecchino mentioned that several fatuus have even yet to SEE her,, i think loverboy hasnt met Sandrone at all.)

Pulcinella - Pantalone was right actually. A mere 12 hours for the passing of a long-reigning Harbinger??? Even HE was weirded tf out. Hopefully the next coffin will be yours. 2/10

ok im actually laughing. "over time he's become a better guy :) <3" "-when it comes to hiding his emotions >:)"

plus one for character development ig 😭 his morals may be skewed but his pristine mask of porcelain sure ISNT.

MOVING ON- i fear you may be right it IS the sexy glasses with the metal chains. I like my men a little blind <3 Side note: if we're sticking with the delusion headcanon of Pantalone being a Gunsperson,, I think he's farsighted. You'll see him squinty eyed trying to count mora without his glasses, but he'll snipe a dude 20 blocks over.

Speaking of voices omg I had the most delicious thought ever: After reader leaves his Fatuu service, finally thinking hes free and that the worst and most hectic part of his life is OVER- (Spoiler: It isn't) What was that saying,, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder?". Ok what if I took that and adjusted it to be a little more fucked up. Having killed a man, and being complicit in killing several others, One does not Simply Escape The Harrowing Change that comes with it. I think it REALLY starts to set in after he's removed from the environment where death is so normalized. What if over time, Loverboy noticed the voice inside his head was slowly starting to sound like Pantalone. What then.

"You're very good at what you do."

okay. what if the next time it was a whisper telling him to snap a man's wrist in two because he was clearly trying to scam loverboy in broad daylight.

Rightt although its not in your rules list,, I'm guessing you don't write any sexual nsfw- STILL WANTED TO CONFIRM beforehand if you're cool with rambling about anything sexually explicit. because WELL lets just say my collection of twitter bookmarks would kill a catholic nun. I'll thoroughly indulge your vulgar way of speaking girl 👍💗

Pathetic sobby men will never not ignite SEVERAL sinful thoughts. Pantalone a stronger man than me bc i'd be pivoting that workplace situationship twink towards the bedroom immediately. anyways-

OKAY ABOUT THE FATUI MANPOWER BEING SO VAST,, I was thinking about the overall genshin public's prejudices and reaction to the Fatui,, or just Snezhnayans in general.

"Most of Snezhnaya's foreign relations are handled by the Fatui, though their aggressive negotiation style and constant political and economic encroachment have given them a negative reputation."

I wouldn't say that it made life HORRIBLE for loverboy to have connections to the fatui. But i'd say theres little scope for a satisfactory life outside Snezhnaya when you'll always be thrown a look of distrust every other day. Better to stick with your village, isnt it? Plus:

There also seems to be a large emphasis on familial relations, as the Snezhnayans who have mentioned their family have been shown to be very close to them. Camaraderie, cooperation and straightforwardness generally appear to be valued in Snezhnaya.

From reader's dad point of view, I'd assume he was a patriotic man + working under the man who might take over the economy in the future,, the salary would be Nothing to Scoff at.

simping for your own OC/ Reader/ Character is a different form of embarassing indulgence because theres a person in my head that I MADE UP and theyre ruining my life /affectionate. You can't even doomscroll content of them cause you have to make it yourself. 😩😔 At the rate this is going,, I might start to self-insert with PANTALONE cause lord help me I need to kabedon Loverboy so bad.

OMG LOVERBOY PISSING OFF PANTALON E i didnt even think about that But now that you metnion it youre so Right ( •̀ .̫ •́ )✧ I wouldnt be surprised if for a split second he had a passing thought to put a bullet in reader's skull too, but one deep breath later he had to compose himself. (Almost killing the other count: WHat is this? atleast the 4th time now?)

LMAO BUT WORRY NOT GOOD SIR your loverboy is infact going to develop a spine of Steel with SO MUCH survivcal instinct that Years down the line he's going to get you in Hot Shit with the Knave on pressumed account of him BETRAYING YOU (Gasp Gasp). For the sole reason of wanting to survive No Matter The Cost . Would you look at that. We've come full circle now.

Im imagining pantalone,, Now regrator,, looking at loverboy after a good 3-4 ish years and not recognizing the man for about a minute,, before he makes that mental connection that Ah. Its the soggy mop boy from years ago.

and his eyes dilate like a cat and he goes ‼‼‼‼ And oh no!!! THats where the obsession starts to snowball Like "holy shit babyboy that post-character development clarity looks positively Enchanting on you. I need you in ways that are So concerning to business ethics"

Like finding the most perfect diamond after leaving behind the same coal to crystalize under pressure.

wow this loverboy business is no joke ive never been this insane over Just a Guy. and to think it all started bc i accidentally sent the same req to two different writers 🥺

Ok lets go SImply reblogging your oneshot for my req isn't enough i need to analyze and annotate the entire thing like a literature professor and tell you Everything. (✿◡‿◡)

pantalone might be ooc

He's not!!!!!! by which i think this is fairly a Really Good portrayal of the guy considering the 5 sentences we know about him. He's strict!!! frankly a little scary!! And also chill and positive about loverboy!! But it felt Just Right!!!! ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

descriptions of blood

description so good i might as well have killed that man myself

...pretend that his lore has a spot where this fits perfectly

I think i can make it fit!! would you be cool with making minor changes if so?

"You're very good at what you do."

Imagining the same voice as sebastian michaelis saying this with the sexiest buttersmooth voice is eviscerating me. Very self-indulgent but praise kinks will always slay so hard.

...on the verge of stabbing him a moment ago.

This,, and the small thing i wrote about loverboy launching them both out the window to escape an onslaught of assassins in my other req. get you a ship where one of them has completely normal knee-jerk reactions to kill the other <3

...as he crushes their hand beneath his shoe without mercy

Fatui Harbingers - House of Wolves - KIERU 0:15

...Instead, Pantalone looks unfazed by it all, stopping as he reaches the other side of you, free of most of the blood. He greets you with a knowing smile as he usually does.

hey ririto this is so ominous and eerie for some reason not known to me. Just the backdrop of grey and snow and probably a gruesome corpse right next to loverboy and Pantalone has a silent smile through everything. Delicious sentence 10/10.

"I knew making you a banker was a good idea,"

THIS IS SO. The confidence and quite calm assurance that pantalone says this with is SO. You'd never be sure whether to lean into it and let out a sigh of relief,, o r back up further becuase it sounds so good but all in the wrong ways.

...thumb brushing across your bottom lip slicked with blood.

fellas is it professional to feed double edged words of honey to your young inexperienced subordinate while kneeling in front of his battered and bruised self who killed someone for you,, and run a gloved thumb across his blood soaked lip. ( ͡• ͜ʖ ͡• )

"Who knew you had so many other talents,"

you are infusing these dialouges with crack cocaine giggling kicking my feet while being slightly concerned because Sir. What do you mean by that.

"Ah ah," he says, a harshness seeping into even just that sound. "Stay." You stay put,

thank you for making loverboy so Ouppy.

"Lord Harbinger," you try to say

yes,, this could be a minor thing to adjust: i think we could actually fit this oneshot somewhere AFTER he gets his vision,, and BEFORE Pantalone becomes the Harbinger Regrator. Can be a valid reason for Pantalone to see that reader failed to kill the assassin from their shitty negotiation meeting,, and wanting to newly test him again after he had his vision + ambitions awakened to see if he can get past the fear of killing NOW. (Even then,, maybe due to inexperience/unfamiliarity of using visions, reader didn't think to raise his advantage of supernatural powers against another visionless man in this scenario.)

I'd think his first kill was one of the factors that caused him to leave after his 3year duty, not sticking around for Pantalone's promotion to Regrator.

"You are much like your father."

Top 10 things Not to say to someone with daddy issues-

...they're as wet behind the ears as you are.

Dear diary, Today i learned a new speech of expression

...Pantalone's hand that rests on your chin moves... "Now, try again. Dear banker, whatever do you mean?"

this whole paragraph. What on earth do you mean 'ooc pantalone'. This is the MOST pantalone thing you could've written. Strict and intimidating about improving reader's meek attitude. a Push in the right direction.

"Is this a test?" you manage, words muffled by the way he squishes your face like putty beneath his fingers.

(thank you for making loverboy so Ouppy) x2

...and you know who, regardless of how 'anonymous' that source may have been in his words.

I MAY BE STUPID. （；´д｀）ゞ I CANT TELL. who you are hinting towards 😭😭

"Hold this," he adds, an unnervingly tender instruction for the way he was just behaving.

There he is. its reminding me of: the same pantalone that washed reader with a clock in my very first req to you.

...looking probably about as pathetic as you think you do.

POV: You're Pantalone looking down at Loverboy.

I forgot how much of a bug-eyed wet dog loverboy is before his time-skip "character development" so to say. Thanks i love him.

"next time someone approaches you from behind, don't wait to stab them. Don't reach for your wet knife with your wet hands, either. Both of those things will get you killed."

I think pantalone is entirely having too much fun with observing Loverboy try climbing the ropes to how REAL fatuus run business.

"Come now. You want to go home and back to Liyue, don't you? I'm tired of this cold."

Σ(っ °Д °;)っ back to liyue??? Loverboy is Liyuean??? pantalone stays in liyue??? I ALWAYS THOUGHT arlecchino called pantalone a bitch in Signora's funeral for "never leaving the comfort of his homeland?" Whuh-?

ALL IN ALL,, CLOSING THOGUHTS,, GOOD FOOD RIRITO DINNER HAS BEEN SERVED, ATE, AND LICKED CLEAN 10/10 ILY

I GOTT THIS JUST BEFORE I WENT TO SLEEP AND ONLY JUST GOT THE TIME TO ANSWER IT BUT I KNEWWW YOU WOULD GET THE HOUSE OF WOLVES REFERENCE

That is true actually and I realised after I posted it that like, wtf is in character for him?? 😭 he's said like two things and while I have memorised those things they're not a lot to go off but I'm glad you enjoy him (ﾉ´▽｀)ﾉ♪

Also if you can make it fit, feel free ☆(≧∀≦*)ﾉ I sorta only had a vague idea of where it might go, but at that point in time, loverboy works abroad in the Northland Bank. I'll also throw in that he travelled there for that job and unfortunately does not come from Liyue 😔 (unless he's supposed to?? I got the impression he was from Snezhnaya) it was more a "I bet you'd love to be back at a desk job rn" or something to that effect, loverboy is going back to the bank once things are settled where he belongs but Pantalone isn't going with him (hence why they're in Snezhnaya when this happenscause I also interpret at as him not liking to leave Liyue)

I'm so glad the J Michael Tatum love never stops but also you're so right praise kinks absolutely do. I also noticed that them trying to kill each other is like, a repeated theme so far 😭⁉️ LIKE WHEN PANTALONE WENT TO FIND HIM LAST ONESHOT HE WAS GONNA KILL THAT FUCKER

Confident possibly mildly degrading Pantalone is literally my favourite thing, like I chew on him. I chew on him being unnervingly calm because what would he have in the eyes of a wet mop boy besides an unwavering poker face. Get yourself a man who uses the blood of your enemies like your lipstick and knows he made good choices stationing you at his shady probably money laundering black hole of debt he calls a bank

Yk I agree actually I was trying to figure the timeline out in my head and realised it would've made more sense to happen before he was a Harbinger so I agree with this revision that actually makes it fit the lore and if I ever decide to make it a longer multichapter fic I'll definitely fix that 💀 t'was a victim of laziness

YES YES THIS Pantalone basically shaping him up so he doesn't literally die and being strict with it get so him. He'll prompt him to say it again but won't let it slide because that behaviour isn't going to be beneficial, especially not with someone who may be working under him long-term

I went back to read the part about the anonymous source line came from, and I think I figured out what happened here, so allow me to explain (;ﾟдﾟ) Ok so, it has a bit to do with the weird way I wrote this because when I said I wrote this on the train that was half a lie. I wrote some of it on the train and the rest at the library where I also edited what I already had because the spelling mistakes were atrocious. I did write down who it was but cut it when I decided it cluttered the story a bit which retrospectively was also a mistake because I didn't think about the fact it would seem like I was hinting at something at the time (ﾟ▽ﾟ*) the shorter, boring answer is that there's no one Ririto did a big silly and cut context in the chaotic editing this suffered

LMAO NOT THE CLOCK AGAIN

I love him the wet mop boy. I was like I want him to be at least a lil pathetic rn because his concerns are completely different. He's thinking about how to not die, and how much he misses his mom and his much fatui dick his dad must've been riding before death to think this career path was worth it (slash JOKING but he is still wondering why his father would have done this job willingly) that and I think men who whimper are cute thanks for coming to my Ted talk

HE IS ENJOYING IT and I love it sm

Hehe I am glad to know you haven't gone hungry today (^o^) and such high ratings for the banker and loverboy

#genshin impact #genshin #pantalone #genshin x reader #➳❥ eluxcastar #genshin impact x reader #➳❥ ooh lover boy #pantalone x reader #➳❥ rumour rants #fatui

23 notes · View notes

vanderlustwords · 3 years ago

Text

A Good Thing {mafia au}

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Mobster!Reader

- 37. We’re dating and I didn’t know you were a mobster/biker

- 46. Argument leading to kissing/sex.

Summary: Your world shifts so many times but the most important one is the time you met Bucky, slept with him, and then fell in love with him. You force your world to stay still after that because if Bucky ever found out who you were—it would shift into nothing. Because you’re the type of person Bucky Barnes despises.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. EXPLICIT SMUT. Unprotected sex (wrap before u tap), angst, reader gets mean, some happy moments, angst again. HEA

Note: Not me making a comeback after one year 🤪 I’m so sorry but sometimes the muse goes away. She’s back tho and the writing motivation is juicy. Dedicated to @empyreanwritings because she is my muse 😌✨

Count: ~10k (sorry)

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

Coffee and rain.

There's something soothing to Bucky's soul when he smells the fresh grinds of coffee mixed in with the rain. The smells and the sounds lull Bucky's aching.

The nice thing about when it rains is that his favourite small coffee shop is quieter. People, for some inexplicable reason, prefer to run to the Starbucks across the street. More seating, probably.

And the very best part of this small coffee shop? It's open 24/7.

Bucky drinks his coffee silently at his usual booth, looking out the window at 2 AM. It's just one of those nights.

It was then he met you.

The door chimes open, and Bucky instinctively looks towards the door.

You were...gloomy.

You walked in, drenched from the rain, with the only thing to keep you completely soaked was your leather peacoat.

"Hey, Sam," you spoke softly.

The lone barista turned to look over to you with a frown.

"Would it kill you to carry an umbrella? It's rainy season," Sam said with his hands on his hip.

"I did have an umbrella," you tell him.

"And what happened to it?"

You shrugged.

Sam sighed.

"I'll go get you a towel, hold on. Do you want anything else?"

"A latte," you ask. "Could you make it with the pretty art?"

Sam presses his lips together as if to prevent himself from laughing. From Bucky's view, he could see the challenging look in your eyes.

"Coming up, just hold on," Sam tells you before he walks off.

Bucky checks his watch again and decides it's getting much too late, and he's sat here long enough. He gets up with his coffee and starts to leave, but as he passes you, you suddenly turn and bump right into him.

His coffee splashes through the hole in the lid over you, and he's glad that his drink had become lukewarm borderline cold with how long he sat at the cafe.

"Oh, shit," Bucky frowns as he reaches over you to grab a bunch of napkins from the dispenser. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

Your face contorts into mild annoyance, and Bucky is sure you're going to cuss him out. But then, you lick your lips, and with a deep breath, you sigh.

"It's okay," you tell him quietly. "It's my fault for turning suddenly. I was trying to go hang my jacket."

Bucky passes you the napkins, but he grins at you. "Not sure if it'll help much since you're drenched. I really am sorry about your jacket, though. I can pay for dry cleaning?"

You actually crack a smile because you're soaked from head to toe and just holding the napkins alone have already used them up. You look at the man before you. His hair is trimmed neatly, but he's a little scruffy with a 5 o'clock shadow on his face. He's got steely grey eyes, but there's a little twinkle of warmth in them.

He's handsome, rough around the edges, but kind.

After all, he was offering to pay for your dry cleaning.

"It's a really expensive jacket," you tell him with a tilt of your head, a small smirk on your lips. "Dry cleaning won't fix it."

Bucky licks his bottom lip before biting it as he eyes you. "What can I do to make it up to you?"

You smile.

⊶⊶⊶⊶��✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

You like when things are simple and straightforward.

There are many things in your life that are complicated, so you appreciate things that are not.

Bucky is simple and straightforward in the best ways. He's charming, funny, and just the right amount of depth. But he's also honest, and you like that about him. He's not afraid to say what he's feeling or what he's thinking about.

Bucky's so...unlike you.

You're always overthinking everything, debating what is safe to reveal and what isn't. You guard your feelings close to your chest, and you make it seem like you're a simple person too.

And you lie.

"How was work today?" Bucky asks as you step into his apartment.

You take your jacket off, hanging it in his closet before Bucky pulls you into a warm hug and a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips. You drag your teeth over your lips as you place your hands on Bucky's stomach before running your hands up to his broad chest.

Another thing you like about Bucky. You think he's so fit.

"Not bad. Sold some paintings," you answer as you lean in closer, letting your lips brush against his.

A freelance art dealer.

That's what you told him you do for work.

It's only a partial lie.

But it worked for you because it could explain why you'd have to leave at times or if you had plenty of time off.

"How was work for you?" You ask softly.

Bucky is a man of many talents. He does a little bit of everything because he excels in whatever he does. But right now, he works at a bookstore.

"Good," is all he offers before he swoops in and kisses your lips.

You let out a soft hum of pleasure, letting Bucky sweep you away from reality for a moment. How can kissing someone feel so good?

It had started out easy enough since that moment in Sam's coffee shop. Bucky had been on his way out, but you managed to convince him to stay just another drink to make up for spilling his drink on you.

Before you knew it, two hours had passed, and you finally gave the man reprieve and let him leave to go to bed for the day. Not that he was eager to go.

Bucky asked for your number and didn't do that thing where men wait a couple of days to call you. He rang you the very next day to see what your schedule was like.

It was endearing.

One coffee date turned into two, then turned into three.

Coffee dates turned into walks in the park, grabbing lunch, and then grabbing dinner.

Once or twice a week turned into four or five times.

Leaving at two in the morning turned into staying the night.

What had started as casual was beginning to get serious—because you were falling for someone who was meant to just be a distraction.

Bucky moans slightly against your lips as his hands drift further down your back and onto your ass before he pulls you flush against him.

"Mm, you always taste and feel so good, doll," Bucky pulls back with a grin on his lips.

You want to fuck Bucky so badly. Fucking Bucky always felt amazing because he was a generous lover. You'd done it with him so many times in the beginning, when you could look him in the eye and lie.

But nowadays, something unpleasant was settling in your stomach. It made sex much harder.

"What do you want to eat?" Bucky asks while he caresses your backside. "Wanna go on a walk today?"

You hum as you rest your cheek on his shoulder. Bucky also smells good—he smelled like clean laundry and pinewood. And clean laundry and pinewood were starting to smell like home.

"Mm, I know you asked me what I want to eat but I can already smell pasta," you look up at him, smirking.

Bucky laughs as he presses another kiss to your forehead. "I remember you said you were craving this pasta the other day but in the case you don't crave it anymore, I can just throw the whole thing away and we can get takeout."

You let out a burst of laughter as you slap Bucky playfully against his chest while he grins mischievously at you.

"You're so ridiculous," you roll your eyes but can't stop smiling.

Bucky just chuckles as he pulls back to grab your hand to lead you further into his home.

"Let's eat first and then we can think about a walk after. I've been hearing there's been more gang activity lately, so maybe we shouldn't. It wouldn't be good to run into one of those scumbags."

You look at Bucky's eyes, the rare time they're cold.

"Right," you swallow.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

"Where've you been?"

"Nowhere," you mutter as you run your fingers through your hair. You look around and inwardly frown. This used to be home. There were so many nice things here. The chandelier above you was worth more than some people's home.

Yet, it couldn't compare to the quaint and warm feeling Bucky's house was.

"You can't just keep disappearing for days or even hours on end anymore. Your father's gone and that means—"

"I know what it means!" You snap, turning to look at Natasha coldly.

"Sorry," Natasha mutters first before you sigh and rub your forehead.

"No, I'm sorry," you tell her with a sigh and pinch to the bridge of your nose. "You're right, I can't keep going off on my own but this is a lot for me. I never expected to inherit this Syndicate so soon."

"I know," Natasha says sympathetically. "At least it was a natural cause. I always told him to take it easy on the sodium. But you're doing great. You've been around the business long enough."

You chuckle. "Yes, but the news about my father's death has spread and people have been targeting us, haven't they?"

Natasha huffs with a nod. "Fucking Stark has been snooping around our area. I think he's trying to edge in on our business and take our clients."

"Any fights?"

"No more than the usual. There was nearly a shootout a couple of days ago at one of our warehouses."

You sigh.

The terrible thing is that while both you and Stark are old money, old syndicates, you've both inherited the business and just recently. Now you're both new kids on the block trying to establish your names.

"Right," you say, feeling hollow as you stand. "Let's gather everyone for a meeting. I want updates on all our books."

You and Natasha leave the room, walking out into the long hallways. Members straighten up when they see you, and the guards look more serious.

"Boss."

Your people greet you left and right, and you hardly acknowledge them. Every time you hear them, it's just an uncomfortable reminder.

You're the daughter of a mob boss, the new owner of his Syndicate.

You're the kind of person Bucky Barnes despises the most.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

Bucky hasn't ever disclosed why he hates gangsters and mobsters—but you pick up on this quickly when you're out and about together, and there's evidence of criminal activity out on the street.

It was the smart thing to do—lie.

Being who you are, what you've done, and what you own, it's a general rule to never disclose who you are and what you do. Even in relationships, unless they're about to enter the family or the business.

But you know Bucky would never join the family or the business, and he would never love you if he knew the truth.

You had the luxury that you've never been the face of the business, that you've been kept behind the scenes. Natasha's more the face of the Syndicate than you are. You've used that to your advantage because it's good that Bucky will never recognize you.

You're not sure what you could do to keep him if he found out.

"Oh, you taste really good," Bucky mutters as he pulls back from your lips just ever so slightly. You can still feel his warm breath on your lips.

You're in his lap, straddling his body with your thighs over his. Your panties have long gone missing, and your neediness had you pulling out Bucky's hard cock long ago. Pressed against his body, you feel his warmth and hardness. You feel your body melt into his, and you both love and hate it.

You wish it didn't feel as good as it did. You wished it felt like any other body you've used.

But he doesn't, and you're trying to wrap your head around why that is.

"What is that? Cherry?" Bucky asks as he captures your lips again, dipping his tongue into your mouth to taste you again. His tongue slides over yours, and you feel yourself grinding against him.

Bucky moans into your mouth, and you're addicted to the feel and the sound of him wanting you.

'Please always want me,' you think.

"I did have ice cream earlier today," you mumble breathily against his lips. "Black cherry."

Bucky hums, more so in pleasure at your gyrating hips than the lingering flavour of your dessert. His hands are under your dress, warm against your ass as he guides you into grinding more slowly before he adjusts and slips into you with one slick thrust.

You can't help your eyes fluttering close and the low groan in the back of your throat. Bucky makes you feel so full, so—open.

"Come on, doll," Bucky presses a sweet kiss against your jaw. "Open your eyes. I wanna see you look at me—wanna see your pretty eyes."

Your eyes open back as the thrusting becomes more urgent and you stay locked into Bucky's steely grey eyes.

That's probably why he's different.

Because Bucky sees you differently.

He looks at you like you're the sweetest thing in the world—like you're the most precious thing he has. He sees you for your dreams, your hopes, and your fears. He looks at you and expects nothing from you except your love and your happiness.

You can see it all in his hot gaze, and it makes you whimper.

"There we go, doll, you're close, aren't you?" Bucky's helping you along as he thrusts upwards rhythmically at a steady pace.

It's so good, so fucking good. Better than with anyone else you've ever done it with before. Your hands grip at Bucky's shirt at his shoulders, nails lightly digging through.

"Bucky—" you whimper. It's so lewd, the way you can hear the sounds of your skin slapping together, the slickness gathering between your thighs. It brings you higher and higher and higher.

Bucky moans in your ear as your head drops against your hand on his shoulder. "Fuck, you feel really tight. So good, always mine. Come on, doll. Let go. Let go and cum all over me."

And when your clit drags over Bucky's skin, and he hits you deeply just the right way, you fall over the edge, right over him. You come with a strangled cry and clenching of your thighs. You hear Bucky's breath hitch, a soft swear at your walls fluttering around him as he thrusts upwards eagerly, chasing his own release.

When he comes, and you feel the comforting warmth of his spend inside you, you relax against him while he's still inside.

The mix of your heavy breathing and his pants come to a still, and you languidly lift your head to place a sweet kiss on his lips.

The feeling of displacement settles over you like it always does after you finish fucking Bucky. The same feeling of disillusionment that makes you feel hollow and numb.

Because despite whatever Bucky sees in you, you know it's nothing but a part of you you'll never be able to fully be.

Still, you press your lips insistently upon his, foolishly hoping that you could be what Bucky sees. Even if it's only when he's inside you—even if it's just for a moment.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

There's a reason Bucky likes fucking you (he secretly calls it making love to you, but he hasn't told you. Also because sometimes it is fucking).

Yes, it feels incredible, and it's fantastic every time. But there's something else. Bucky feels just a little closer to you when he makes you cum. Because in that one split second, that moment where you're on the precipice of wound up too tight and falling, you're entirely open to him.

You can't help but look openly vulnerable and can't help the raw emotion that crosses your face.

And Bucky is addicted to that.

He's not sure what he was expecting when he met you at Sam's cafe. A one-night stand or the occasional 2 AM booty call, maybe. It had easily turned into friends with benefits, and now they were dating.

Bucky has let himself fall completely. It was hard not to. You were too funny, too witty, too sarcastic, too soft, too loving, too everything. How could he not fall?

But while Bucky fell for you with no preparation for how he was going to land, you had fallen for him with a parachute.

He could sense you holding back. He could sense your sadness at times like you were upset with yourself for falling for him. Bucky doesn't take it to heart because there were times you openly adored him as well (when you're on that precipice of cumming and when you're gazing at him when you think he's fast asleep).

"How come we're always at my place?" Bucky asks as he strokes your back, feeling the familiar bumps of your spine. He tries not to go too low because you've got back dimples, and if he touches them, he'll definitely rile himself up to the point of railing you from behind again. He wants to talk because you only ever talk when he's fucked you so good; you're too relaxed to be on your guard.

"I like your place," you mumble sleepily against his chest.

"I mean, you make pretty good money, you must have a place way bigger than mine," Bucky muses.

You shrug.

"Perhaps but my place isn't like yours," you tell him, your index finger stroking his skin in a small line back and forth. "I don't spend a lot of time at my place, nor have I cared to decorate it. There's just a bunch of paintings and posh, modern-esque furniture."

Bucky is happy to listen as you intertwine your legs through his.

"I like your place because it's—like you. Your kitchen always smells like pasta. Your couch is well-worn in and you have throw pillows that don't match at all. Your bed is smaller than mine but I like it because we sleep closer together. And your sheets smell like you," you smile with your eyes closed.

"Like me?" He teases. "Hope that's good."

You hum. "Pinewood and clean laundry. I know you definitely wash it every week."

"You don't?" Bucky asked, his voice (mostly) jokingly aghast.

"Mm, the cleaners probably do," you mutter.

Bucky lets out a burst of quiet laughter. "Rich brat."

"Hey, I helped you wash dishes today."

"Ah, right, how could I forget your supervision. I wouldn't have been able to achieve clean dishes without you today."

"I'm glad you understand," you say cheekily.

Bucky merely pinches your side lightly as he rolls you over for a chaste kiss.

He sighs.

Bucky's fairly sure he's going to hit the ground and break all his bones, but he supposes that's alright. Because on the off chance your parachute doesn't work, or heaven forbid, you decide you can take it off, he'll still catch you—broken bones and all.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

You're listening to Natasha give you the report, but your mind is miles and miles away.

Another gang fight broke out in the lower west part of your city today. Stark really seems to be testing your limits. To be fair, you just swiped one of his biggest clients from him and one of his shipments.

It's going to rear its ugly head soon. The way things are, it's going to escalate, and you'll probably start having to kill people. There's no hiding behind your father or Natasha anymore. You'll be the one who has to give the orders. You'll be directly responsible instead of indirectly and watching from the sidelines.

You just keep falling deeper and deeper into that person Bucky unknowingly despises.

"Hey."

You blink as you look up at Natasha from your desk.

"Everything okay, boss?" She asks you, and you snort.

"Don't call me that," you roll your eyes.

"Why? You are." Natasha smirked as she stood straight.

"Not to you. Dad took you in when you were a kid. You're family," you tell her softly, and Natasha allows herself to soften for the moment as well.

"You were an annoying sibling," Natasha says, ruining the entire moment.

"You were a sombre little thing. I was sure you were actually a granny in a kid's body," you rebuke back, causing the redhead to laugh.

"Alright, enough of that. What's wrong?" She asks you, and you bite the tip of your tongue.

You eventually let out a long sigh. "I don't know. I don't know how to handle all of this. I wasn't like you, Nat. Sure, sometimes I participated in meetings and learned the mechanics and the darker side of things Dad did, but I'm—I don't know. I knew I'd probably take over one day when Dad was like 102 years old and preferred bird watching instead of chasing deals and murdering people who messed with us. I always thought that taking over would be what I'd want too, after growing older."

"You don't want to?" Natasha frowned.

"I don't know," you swallowed. "I don't know anything anymore."

"Well," Natasha licked her lips, trying to conceal her concern for you. "What I can tell you now is that you need to arrange a meeting with Stark and settle this before it all gets very ugly."

You sigh.

"I know."

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

Between making sure you have enough time for Bucky and all the business of the Syndicate, you're starting to feel a little haggard because you're keeping secrets on both sides.

Until one gets discovered.

"Are you crazy?" Natasha hissed at you.

She cornered you two blocks down after you left Bucky's.

"Are you fucking trailing me?" You seethed at her.

"Of course I'm fucking trailing you!" Natasha exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "You've been acting all gloomy and strange. You've been putting things off, showing up late, and missing half the time. And now I'm finding out it's because of some guy? The dick can't be that good."

"Watch your mouth," you warn Natasha, jaw clenched.

"I'll watch my mouth when you put the Syndicate before him! This was your father's legacy," Natasha emphasized, frowning at you. "This is what he left behind, what supported our lifestyle for years. We have people we have to look after and you've been AWOL for some guy none of us have met!"

You stay silent, guilt thrumming in your chest because you can't seem to do it right anywhere.

"Is it serious?" Natasha asks you finally, and when you don't answer, she has hers.

"If it's serious, then you have few options. You know what they are," Natasha clenches her jaw. "You either leave him now and return to us or you reveal who you are and bring him into the Syndicate by marriage. You know what you have to do if you reveal yourself and he doesn't agree to be a part of the business, don't you?"

Kill him, your mind answers, but you continue to remain silent.

"You can't afford to be soft," Natasha reminds you. "Don't go soft on me because I have to be the one who hardens and cleans up your messes."

It was then your eyes met hers and flashes dangerously. "I'm fucking serious, Nat. Stay the fuck away from him. I might be shit at it but I still give the orders."

Natasha's nostrils flare at you, the way they do when you've argued with her when you were younger, and she's disappointed.

"Figure out what to do because that meeting with Stark is in one month when he's back. If you think your lover can't be with you for who you are, then leave him. This is my home too, don't run it into the ground with your father."

Natasha is quick to turn and leave after, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

She was right—that you needed to figure it out.

But you don't even know how to. How do you make sure Bucky could still love you even if you told him who you really were?

How do you make sure he still looks at you the way he does when he learns you're everything he hates?

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

"Bucky."

"Hm," Bucky looks at you while you lie in bed together. It's one of those rare nights the two of you have kept your hands to yourselves. But it's been a rather long day, and neither you want to admit it's also nice to be able to not fuck—like it means more somehow.

It's the perfect time to bring it up. After all, on your stroll back to his place, the two of you passed by a group of gangsters smoking and talking much too loudly.

You don't recognize them, so you know they aren't a part of your Syndicate. Your people are much more discreet, and they would never sit out in the open like that, flashing around their tattoos for everyone to see.

Still, Bucky makes a disgruntled face and a scoff after you pass them.

"Is there a reason you hate gangs and mobs so much?" You ask quietly as you lie on your side facing him, trying to not let your heart thud too hard.

"Is there a reason I need to?" Bucky turns to you with a cock of his brow.

"No," you answer honestly. "But most people just ignore them. You seem to have a personal grudge."

Bucky is silent for a moment as he stares at the dark ceiling. You're kind of glad it's a little too hard to see anything because you don't want to know his expression. Probably thinly veiled contempt for people like you—not that you could blame him.

Then Bucky sighs, pulling one of his arms from under his head to wrap around your body and pull you closer.

"I actually used to live here with someone else. The things you talked about loving are all the things he bought for me or taught me how to do," Bucky confesses quietly.

You listen quietly, unassuming and uninterrupting. Something tells you that this was the wrong thing to do.

You thought you could make Bucky continue to look at you the same if you just understood why he hated people like you. But maybe you were wrong.

"His name was Steven Grant Rogers, and he was—everything. My best friend, my brother, my confidant. We've been attached to the hip since pre-k. We scrapped, slummed, and lived good together," Bucky smiled in the dark as if he was fondly reliving memories. "Steve was a good guy, you know? He was always a little scrawny little thing, though. Oh, and terrible health problems. Asthmatic as hell. Little guy, big heart. He just—always wanted to be more."

"And?"

You expected something like how Steve had been in the wrong place, wrong time. Some mobsters killed poor Steven Grant Rogers.

It's how it always was.

But—

"Then Steve somehow got in with the wrong crowd. They were filling his head with ideas that he could be different—strong. They had him partying and easing him into drugs. It was weed at first, helped Steve a little with his sleeping problems. And then it just kept escalating. I tried to get him to stop, but it was just driving a rift between us. Steve always felt I never understood that part of his life—the desire to be something he wasn't," Bucky sighed.

"I thought Steve was already great—there just wasn't anything we could do about his physical health. We couldn't make him suddenly have a healthy body that could run 20 miles and make him shoot up a whole foot taller," Bucky was absently stroking your arm.

"I never knew which gang he was hanging out with, I think Steve hid it for my safety. But all I know is one night, I found a bunch of drugs he was supposed to drive over the border into Mexico. I told him he was fucking crazy and that shit would get him killed. There was no way he could smuggle it over. The dogs alone at the border would sniff it out," Bucky's voice was hard. "He had some plan but I couldn't even listen. Told Steve that if he wanted to get involved in this shit—shit he knew was wrong, then to get out and leave me out of it."

You feel something painful tugging at your chest. Maybe it was the way Bucky sounded so heartbroken.

Maybe because this was sounding familiar.

"Next thing I know, I'm getting a call from the hospital at 4 AM and I'm rushing to the ER but I'm too late. Dead before I could even leave the house," Bucky rasps.

You want to tell Bucky to stop—he doesn't have to bring this up. You're sorry for asking. You're so sorry.

But you remain still, hand tensely on his stomach. "Cops are all over me with questions before I can even process the fact Steve's gone. They're telling me they found him on the side of the road, bullets through his windshield and chest and his car had traces of coke. The bundles were gone, just sprinkles of it everywhere."

It's silent for a moment, with Bucky no longer talking. You feel his arm tight around you, chest taking heavy breaths.

You stroke his stomach, even though you also feel nauseous, but the gesture seems to soothe him enough to talk again.

"I think Steve realized that everything he was doing was wrong—that he'd gotten involved with something he never should've. I think he tried to turn around since his car was driving away from the border when they found it. And I think he tried to let them know he was bringing the goods back or bringing it to the cops to turn himself in alone. I'll never know what the guy was trying to do. Either way, it wasn't what the gangsters liked and they went out to find him. They went out to put a hole in his chest and take back their goods. They went out to kill him and leave him like it wasn't anything."

Bucky then turns to you. There's enough light from outside through the peek of the curtains. You see that Bucky's eyes are rimmed red.

Your chest aches because you know that Bucky misses Steve so much every day without a shadow of a doubt. He misses his friend so much; there's a part of him that's gone now too. It's a part no one, not even you, could fill.

"So, when you ask me why I hate people like them, that's why. Because they can go about their life doing shit like this to people like Steve and it's all just another body to them. Another faceless no one they don't even remember. And people like me can't do anything about it," Bucky's face is so close, you can feel his minty breath on your face.

Your eyes sting for a lot of different reasons.

You wrap your arm further around Bucky, pulling him in close to comfort him. Even though you're the last person who should.

Because your father is the reason why Steven Grant Rogers is dead.

No one knew him by that name, though.

They joked around with the scrawny man, calling him "Captain."

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

Steven Grant Rogers was a strange person your father used to tell you.

You had no interest in another asthmatic kid who wanted to join your father's Syndicate. He was just one of the other hundreds of similar guys who wanted to.

Everyone thinks being in a mob is glamourous, and parts of it are. But it's also gruelling work when you're at the bottom of the chain and when you get higher, the shit you have to do just gets more gruesome.

But your father always liked people with upstanding morals.

And apparently, Steve had enough to earn him the nickname Captain—or Cap.

You might've seen him once in passing. It was the time of your life where you were less present in the business. You simply preferred travelling and blowing massive amounts of daddy's money.

So, when you came home one day after Nat called you to say your father was upset and needed family, you were surprised to hear that Steve was dead.

Betrayed, your dad told you. Betrayed by Cap. A man who your dad took under his wing like his own. It was just an initiation job Steve was to do on his own.

And when Steve called your dad to say he couldn't do it, couldn't live like this anymore—wanted out. Your dad told him the same rules he's told everyone—even you.

There is no out. Blood in, blood out—that's the only way.

You look at Bucky's peacefully sleeping face. It was clear he felt lighter after confessing to you, opening up to you.

You felt the opposite.

You felt like the anchor to your ankle tightened, and you were sinking even faster than before.

Understanding Bucky only led to one thing—cementing his hatred for you once he found out.

You couldn't keep Bucky, nor could he keep you.

The choice was clear.

You had to leave him.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

Bucky's not sure what he's done wrong.

You've stopped answering his calls and texts.

You've stopped showing up at his place. Everything that was you in his apartment is gone.

Not even a single sock left.

Well, that's not true.

You did leave something.

A post-it note that says, "It's over. I don't want to see you ever again. Don't reach out."

Cold.

Heartless.

The way you were when he first met you. It had lingered under the surface and never showed itself to him, but now it was directed at him.

It's possible you've blocked his number or changed it.

Bucky's sure he's hit the ground now, and his heart is the very first thing to break while his bones feel sore.

There's no closure, and Bucky doesn't think you'll ever give him one. He should just suck it up, take the loss, and move on. He should let time do its thing and forget about you.

But he can't.

Bucky was in too deep. He already knows. He's devastatingly in love with you.

That's why he has shown up at your place. It's much richer and posher than he ever expected. He knew the community you lived in—he's still surprised that he's stuck outside your gates.

Bucky showed up at 8 PM, and you weren't home. Now it was nearing 1 AM.

He looks up when he sees a black car pull up. It stops just a little ways away from him. The driver window rolls down for a brief moment before it rolls back up.

Then in the back, the door opens, and you step out.

You look...different. A little sharper than when you're with him.

You tap the driver's window.

"Are you sure?" Bucky hears faintly.

"Leave, and don't say a word to Nat," you warn.

Bucky blinks because he's never heard you sound so cold.

You wait until the car leaves until you can't see it anymore and turn to him, eyes dispassionate.

"Why are you here, Bucky? Didn't you get my letter?" You ask him plainly.

Bucky gets up with a grunt, frowning at you.

"Can you even call that a letter? You wrote it on a sticky note," Bucky quirks his brow at you.

"All I had at the time," you shrug as you walk past him, entering the code to your gates, and it opens. "The message remains the same. It's over and I don't want to see you."

But Bucky grabs your hand as he trailed after you.

"Why? Why is it over? Did I do something?" Bucky asks you, trying to not sound desperate, but his eyes give that away.

You keep walking, pulling your hand out of Bucky's.

"No, you didn't." You said briskly as you reached your front steps. You turn to him. "Go home, Bucky. It's over because it just is. Are you going to stand there and try to make me stay with you? Is that the kind of man you are?" You taunt him.

Bucky bristles at your words, trying to push them aside because you're only saying them to get a rise out of Bucky—to make him quit.

But he won't.

"No, but until you tell me why it's over and until it's a reason I can accept, I'm not going home," Bucky insists. "You don't get to say you woke up one moment because you suddenly fell out of love—and don't play stupid and act like you don't love me. I know you do, I've already known for months."

You swallow harshly as Bucky pushes past you into your home.

It's as lonely as you described.

Meaningless art with posh furniture.

"I have nothing to say to you, Bucky. Leave before I get mean with you," you warn him, threaten him.

Bucky snorts. "Mean with me, doll? You don't think you're already being mean? You left a sticky note saying it was over and not to seek you out. I think you're already past mean. You're fucking hostile."

You purse your lips because you're frustrated.

Why couldn't Bucky just be the man who cursed you, wished you ill, and forgot about you?

Why did he have to come here and be so annoyingly persistent?

"I'm just over you, Bucky," you say dispassionately. "What we had was good but I'm done with it now. Don't tell me just because I fucked you on the daily—because we ate together that you thought I wanted that forever. I'm doing that with three different guys right now."

That causes a look of anger in Bucky's eyes, and you hope that he'll just call you names and then leave.

"No," Bucky grinds out. "I thought you wanted that forever because after you fucked me, you stayed in my bed—in my arms as you fell asleep. Because before and after we ate, we did everything and nothing and all that's in between. You're pretty stellar, doll, but even you don't have enough time or energy to do that with three different guys."

"Just get out and leave, Bucky. How many times does a girl have to tell you that she's fucking over you for you to leave? Are you always this pathetic?" You tilt your head with a smirk. "What? Do you want to have breakup sex before it's over? Or do you think your dick is so good it might be able to convince me to stay?"

Bucky just stares at you.

This isn't you.

And no matter how many terrible things you say to him, he's never going to believe that's how you truly feel.

Because the only way for Bucky to confirm that is to get you on that precipice.

Bucky surges forward, catching you in a surprising kiss as he backs you into your too expensive couch.

You moan instantly in his mouth.

"Moaning just from that, doll?" Bucky taunts you. "Maybe my dick might be good enough to convince you at the very least you're wrong."

Bucky's kissing you again, pulling you close to him as he strokes down your side, pulling one thigh open for him to fall between your legs.

When his erection hits your clothed pussy, you arch your back, whimpering in his mouth as your hips rise.

"I really hope you're not seeing three guys because you're so fucking needy for me right now. That would just be sad if none of them are taking care of you properly," Bucky's just being mean now, and you deserve it for breaking his heart and trying to rub salt in his very open wounds.

But Bucky's much kinder than you and goes back to silently making his point instead of dishing back what you gave.

He makes work of kissing your neck, sucking and licking as his fingers unbutton your shirt. He presses his hand against your back, lifting you to take your shirt off before unhooking your bra and throwing that away too.

"Always so pretty," he mutters before he takes a nipple into his mouth, licking and nipping until the nub becomes a hard pebble.

His fingers have already dipped into your pants, past your underwear, as his calloused pads of his fingers slip through your folds. Bucky rubs you lewdly, firmly, without holding back as he circles your clit and teasingly presses against your entrance.

You get slick for him easily and quickly, your mouth letting out pants and moans for him as you try to make work of undoing his belt and pulling down his zipper.

You don't want the foreplay, and it's clear Bucky is getting you soaked to take his cock tonight.

When Bucky pulls his hand out, grabbing onto the edge of your pants and panties as he rips it down, you're too eager to help him help you out of them. He makes quick work of his own pants and shirt before he spreads you as wide as he can.

With one sharp thrust, he sinks into you fully, stretching you so wide and filling you up.

You let out a hot moan when he settles all the way in. Fuck, he was perfect. He filled you so good, so perfectly. You missed it.

Bucky presses his entire front against you, pressing you firmly into the couch as he kisses you deeply for a moment. He pulls back just enough that his lips are ghosting over yours.

And then he fucks you.

His thrusts are deep and punishing. He changes his angle and continuously swipes over that spongy, bumpy spot in you. Over and over until you're legs are wrapped around his hips so tightly like you want to keep him in you.

Your hands are gripping the back of his hair as you whimper and cry, choking on your moans as Bucky whispers in your ear, trying to push you to that edge.

"You know you're mine, doll. Why are you pretending you aren't? I'm out here giving all of myself to you and you're trying to pretend you don't want me? It's hard to pretend right now, though, isn't it? When you're wrapped so tightly around my cock, thrusting against me so desperately because you want me to make you cum," Bucky nibbles your ear, causing a high-pitched yelp from you. "Fuck, you're always so tight for me. How are you always so fucking tight? You love me, admit you love me."

You shake your head, trying to breathe through the quickly rising wave that wants to crash. You try to stave off your impending orgasm, the one that would be admitting how much you want Bucky, but he isn't having any of that.

"Oh, no," Bucky tuts. "Don't go doing that now, doll. Open your eyes for me. Open them right now because you know I like seeing your pretty eyes when you cum for me."

You try to refuse, but when Bucky's gripping the back of your hair, a hot wave of arousal pulses through you as your eyes snap open and you stare into his eyes.

Even when he's mad at you, even when he's heartbroken. He still looks at you so openly.

That too tight coil in you snaps when Bucky's hand slides down to thrum at your clit.

You cum with a choked whimper, thrusting upwards into him as he curses and smashes his lips against yours. His hips move jaggedly until you feel his hot spend coat your walls, filling you and dripping out.

He falls on top of you; though heavy, his weight is comforting. It's just the sounds of heavy breathing from the two of you that fill the room.

When it finally calms down, Bucky lifts himself to hover over you. He's got that look of triumph on his face. He's got that look because he got you on that precipice, and just before you came, he got the truth he wanted.

You want him. You love him. And for some reason, you won't let yourself.

You stare at him, feeling—numb.

"Still want to tell me you're over me?" Bucky asks softly.

You fight tooth and nail in your own body to not let the tears well up.

You swallow. You need to shove down those feelings, even though they were right on the surface for Bucky to see.

Because if lying to him won't work anymore, then you'll tell the truth. And you'll do it the way that forces you to face your worst fear.

Seeing how that look of love will really turn to hate for all the right reasons instead of the lie you tried to build.

"Fine," you say, no longer dispassionate and instead with nothing but emotion. "I'm not over you. I'm never going to be over you. But we're never going to work, Bucky. And you know why?"

You use your strength and his lack of awareness to flip the two of you over. He's still in you when you're on top of him.

You stare down at him, and you can't help the burn in the back of your eyes. Why does he have to look so—Bucky.

You lean down, so you're closer to his face.

"My father is the man who killed Steve Rogers. Congratulations, Bucky. You've gone and fell in love with the daughter of the Syndicate that got your friend killed. And you know what else? You're also fucking the boss of that Syndicate now." You watch as Bucky's eyes go wide, shock registering in his system. It's all you can take. You don't want to watch the shock go away and morph into something else.

You slide off of him, resisting the urge to moan as he slides out of you.

You get up, collecting his clothes and dumping them on him. You stare down at him, and you know your eyes are rimmed red as he sits up and stares back at you.

"So, if you're done trying to make me stay and realize you should've gone—go home. And don't come back. We could never work, and this is where you realize you don't want it to."

You grab your shirt, if only to put it on to cover your physical nakedness. It doesn't help you stop feeling vulnerable.

You turn to leave, ready to go upstairs and leave Bucky to go alone. He could break your shit for all you care—could burn the house right down with you in it, and it would've been fine.

But somehow, somehow, Bucky's grabbing your hand again.

You turn to him, exasperated and tears in your eyes.

"Bucky—"

"Will you just stop trying to leave for one damn minute!?" He shouts at you, and you're stung into surprise.

"Let me just fucking process everything for a second," Bucky frustratingly says as he pulls you back to the couch and forces you to sit down.

"What's there to process?" You bite out. "I'm a crime boss of a Syndicate and my family is the one who got Steve killed. Stop trying to make excuses for me and just—leave. You hate these kinds of people, Bucky. And I'm at the top of those kinds of people. It's time to wake up and realize you hate me."

"Don't tell me what to feel, doll," Bucky says warningly at you. "I have questions and you're going to answer them."

You're silent, ready for the questions and also not ready.

"Your dad is dead?"

"Yes."

"How."

"Heart attack."

"Why did he kill Steve?"

"He said he took Steve in like one of his own and Steve betrayed him. I'm assuming that meant Steve was going to try to turn himself in or the drugs. It would've led back to the Syndicate."

"Did you have anything to do with it?"

"No, I wasn't interested in the business during this time. I don't remember ever meeting Steve."

"Have you done anything like this since taking over?"

"No. I can't say I'm a good crime boss. I know how the business works and I can do parts of it, but everything was rather—sudden." You look away. It's not fair to be sad about your dad's death with Bucky right there. You hate yourself when Bucky squeezes your hand.

You wish he'd let go.

"You've killed people then?"

"I've sent orders. Usually wars between other Syndicates. We're in a tough period since my dad has passed. A lot of people are trying to take advantage of the new kid in power—even if the Syndicate belongs to me by blood," you confess, feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

It's silent for a minute, and you want to pull your hand away if Bucky wasn't holding it so tightly.

Bucky just stares at you while you look straight forward.

"One more question," Bucky says slowly. "Is this what you continue to want? Do you want to be the crime boss of a Syndicate? Is this the life you want?"

You turn to stare at Bucky. His face holds no emotion, so you have no idea how he's feeling and for once, his eyes are guarded.

You knew it would be, but it still stung.

You let out a sigh.

"No," you finally say. "I did—at one point. Inheriting all this was always part of the plan. I just thought in some vague distant far part of the plan. I never really thought about it much. I'm capable of this work but I just—" you shook your head.

"Stop holding back," Bucky pushes you because he's not letting you hide this time. If he's going to fall, he's not going to let you dawdle if you want a parachute or not while joining him. He's going to rip your parachute right off.

You swallow as you look at him. "I just—want you. I didn't think meeting you would lead to all of this. But now, I can't stop wanting something that's going to get us both killed. I want to live in Barcelona where you sell stupid boats and I actually am a paint dealer because we do need money. I want that if I look out the window, I can see you all day and then we eat ridiculously good food that we both have concerns about becoming unhealthily obese quickly and both not really care because that's our life. Working weird hours and eating whatever we want when we want."

Bucky squints his eyes at you, unsure of what to make of what you're saying, but it's blooming something in his chest. It's all painful and muddled up with everything else that has happened recently.

He wonders why in this fantasy, he sells boats. Are boats popular in Barcelona?

You're quiet again, and Bucky has finally run out of questions. He leans back against your posh couch and thinks about how it's not worn in enough.

Bucky thinks about so many things.

He thinks about Steve and wonders if it's still okay to love you. It's easier knowing you had nothing to do with his death.

While it'd be easier to blame you because of your blood relations, Steve would probably punch him in the mouth. He's a good guy like that.

Is it still okay to love you knowing you've got blood on your hands? That you're capable of getting more if you had to.

Bucky's not sure.

But it doesn't stop his heart from feeling what it does.

He turns to you, and you watch him with open eyes. He wants to laugh. How the tables have turned.

"I love you," Bucky says, and he watches you swallow with tears in your eyes. "I love you even though you're the kind of people I hate. I love you and I want that kind of life you've just talked about. I'm not 100% sold on the boat idea, though."

You choke on a laugh.

Bucky smiles. He's super tired.

"Can we have that though?" He asks, and you know what he's really asking.

Are you willing to abandon everything to have that life?

Bucky's no stranger to blood in, blood out. You don't get special treatment just because you're a crime boss. If anything, it's harder.

You stare at him.

Finally, you're really looking at him with everything you have, and it feels so—right.

You lean over to kiss him, revelling in the way he kisses you back.

Because Bucky Barnes loves you. He loves you even though he knows the truth.

"Yes," you tell him. "Hope you don't sunburn easily. Also boats are a great idea, you'll see."

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

The meeting with Stark had been a bust. His ego is way too big to even consider a détente.

It had ended with people being killed on both sides as you both escaped. You hadn't been in a good mood, and that was when you realized Bucky was sitting on the ground outside your gates.

Still, it was the best thing that he could've done. You're glad you're terrible with emotions and thought a sticky note would really keep him away.

Or maybe you knew it wouldn't. Maybe you held onto hope even though there was no reason for you.

There was some intel that Stark was planning to blow up one of your warehouses in the next week. It would probably be one of the bigger ones. He did want to try to stick it to you and cost your Syndicate money.

Well.

That was Natasha's problem now.

"Are you sure about this?" Natasha asks with a frown.

She's family. The most wonderful thing you have left of this world.

The only one who could understand that it doesn't have to be blood in, blood out.

Because she's not your blood, and she's family, your inner family.

"I think it's for the best," you mutter as you fidget with a puzzle. "I told you I wasn't like you. You're more fit to run this thing if you want to keep it out of the ground."

"But your father—"

"—is dead," you finish as you look up at her.

"If he wants to keep his legacy running, then he'll jump for joy at the thought of you taking over because I'm the selfish daughter that would run it into the ground," you smile prettily while Natasha scoffs.

"You love him that much?" She asks.

For a moment, you soften, the way Natasha has never seen you before.

"So much that I'd come up with new rules to be with him," you say quietly. "Besides, we're the new generation. We should make our own rules. Get married or die is way outdated."

"Ah, yes," Natasha said dryly. "I love faking your own death to be with the man you love because he can't stomach joining a mob Syndicate because his best friend was murdered by one is so much better."

"It's interesting at least," you laugh. "Besides, it'll give leeway for you to take over much easier. I even left my will here. See?"

Natasha clicks her tongue at it.

"You have everything else prepared?" Natasha asks, and you nod.

"All the stuff I need to start over is good to go."

"And did you..."

"Clean up loose ends? Yes," you sigh. "Bucky wasn't happy with me."

"And he just forgave you?"

"It helped I chose someone who also dabbled in child pornography to set up our documents. I don't think Bucky was too morally conflicted to see him go," you shrugged. "He helped me get rid of the body."

"Glad you two are bonding," Natasha shook her head with a sigh.

You hum.

It's a long moment before Natasha pulls you in for a rare, tight hug.

"Be safe," she mumbles. "Don't actually get blown up. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too," you hug her back, tears welling in your eyes. "We'll meet again if we ever cross paths. Hopefully after you're a badass crime boss that's taken Stark down a few notches. I mean, you have to avenge my tragic death."

Natasha just laughs.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

1 year later...

You hear the door ring as it opens.

You look up from the counter and give a hopeless grin.

"Back again, Rafael?" You sigh. "What did you do this time?"

The man just laughs as you start preparing a bouquet for him.

"I brought home the wrong ice cream," he says with a shrug.

You click your tongue at him. "How could you forget again? You did this three weeks ago."

"She changes her favourite flavour every week! I can't keep up," Rafael frowned.

"She's making a human, a human that's half yours," you quirk a brow at him. "She's entitled to changing her ice cream flavour if she wants."

Rafael sighs but good-naturedly as you finish fixing his bouquet.

"I should go talk to Steve out there, huh? All he does is sell boats and manage to keep you happy. How is that?"

You smile as you look at the window, staring at your husband, who is fixing up a boat. It's like he can sense when you're looking at him as he looks up, giving you a charming smirk.

"Stevie's a whole other level. It's best not to compare. He's crazily good at knowing everything about me by just looking into my eyes."

"But how!" Rafael exclaims.

"Um, something about precipice and practice," you tilt your head.

"Unhelpful," Rafael tuts, and you laugh.

"I'll give a ten percent discount due to my unhelpfulness, how's that?"

"You are an angel. Maybe I should try to look in your eyes and see if I have this superpower too," Rafael waggles his brow, and before you can retort, the door rings again as it opens.

"Stop hitting on my wife, Rafael, you're going to end up having to come back twice if your wife finds out."

You look up and see your husband, tanned and delicious.

"And who would tell her?" Rafael quirked his brow.

"Me, and I'm sure she's already one step from leaving you if you dawdle any longer with your flowers and ice cream," your husband smirks.

Rafael curses as he winks at you before giving your husband a nod and leaves.

When it's just the two of you, you beckon him closer to the counter. You tug on his shirt as you pull him in for a sweet kiss.

"Hi," you say.

"Hi," he husks back.

"I miss calling you Bucky," you sigh.

"Stevie's not as fun?" Bucky smiles.

"It's alright," you crinkle your nose.

"You can still call me Bucky in bed," he waggled his eyebrows at you as he hops over the counter to kiss you again.

"Mm," you hum in pleasure. "We'll see if we're up for those kinds of activities after we go eat tonight."

Bucky looks excited. "Can we go to the usual? I can't get enough of the calamari."

You snicker but nod before you look around.

"I can't believe you went and opened a flower shop too. Isn't art dealing enough?" Bucky sighs.

"The flower shop is just an add on, you big baby. I meet my clients here and they like buying flowers too. Besides, you like seeing me here every day. And I like it too," you pout.

Bucky sighs. "Shit, we're that clingy couple. Can't function without seeing each other."

You smile.

"That's a good thing," you decide.

"You're a good thing," Bucky shoots back haughtily like you should be offended.

You roll your eyes as you pull Bucky in for another kiss—much longer and deeper. You love that he still smells like pinewood and clean laundry. But now he also smells like the ocean, and you adore it. Because the ocean was something you added to him.

"Always let me be your good thing," you mutter against his lips.

Fin

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

Moodboard: @empyreanwritings 💕💕

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

I love these two so much 😭💕 If this flops I will actually pretend this never happened LMAO so please comment & reblog if you enjoyed 😊

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #mobster!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x mob!reader #modern avengers au #avengers au #avengers imagine #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine #g.fluff #g.angst #v.myfic

619 notes · View notes

calif0rnia-lovers · 4 years ago

Text

Lover of Mine #5.5 | Angel Reyes.

Series Masterlist | join my gc for updates since tags are acting weird

title: For Better, or For Worse.

rating: 💙 💔

As long as you're feeling the same, I'll follow you into the flames

sum: angel fears once it's out, his secret will be the final push you need to leave. instead of confessing, he sticks out the couple's retreat to give himself a few more days with you. he makes himself a promise: he'll tell you once you two return to santo padre. but a ghost from his past pushes angel's agenda forward a few days.

words: the standard for this series....long af (that's why I break it into sections so you know where to come back to when you take a break...but seriously, please take breaks on these long ass chapters)

Ez Reyes is a smart man. There is no denying it. However, Ez never thought he would struggle to tie a tie.

He is currently outside of his father’s truck. Kneeling before his nephew, Ez concentrates as he works through the instructions he Youtube’d earlier. A usually chatty Jeyson has been silent. He slept the entire hour's drive to school. When his Uncle woke him, Jeyson shot Ez a glare that reminded him of you.

Jeyson was fine the entire weekend that you were gone, but the moment he woke up this Monday to find you had not returned his entire mood changed. He has fought Ez tooth and nail the entire morning.

Ez glances up from the tie to Jeyson. “Hey, you sure you wanna go to school today?”

“I have to go to school” Jeyson mumbles.

“Yeah, but sometimes it doesn’t hurt to take a break.” Ez offers Jeyson a smile. “If you’re not having a good day, it’s okay to stay home.”

“I don’t want to stay home with you.”

“That’s okay,” Ez chuckles. “What about Izzy?”

“I don’t want to stay home with her either.” Jeyson releases a huff before glancing down at his now fixed tie. He bends down to pick up his backpack. Slipping it onto his shoulder, Jeyson steps around his Uncle. “I want my mom to come home.”

Tommy’s gaze remains on the sleeve of his blue Stockton uniform. His fingers tug at the loose string resting against his wrist. He ignores the smirk on his older brother’s face. The passing of time has muddled the bruises on Tommy’s skin. The mixture of black and yellow stood out on the parts of him he's allowed to remain visible. No matter how he sits, the pain in his ribs is inescapable. Sleep has fallen to the way-side, the inability to get comfortable meaning he only gets it once he’s passed out from exhaustion.

“You didn’t tell me she was hot. Now I know why you were sticking up for her the other day--”

“I didn’t notice. I’m more worried about her getting me out of here.”

“Uh-huh.” Leo’s eyes roll as he watches his brother’s eyes pass over the crowded visiting center. “I’m just saying—”

“What’d you find?” Tommy’s fingers massage his temple, the irritation in his voice amplified by his brother’s antics. Lack of sleep and around-the-clock oversight and antics from Rogers has cut his fuse short. “If you didn’t find anything, you could've saved yourself a trip up here—and I could be asleep.”

“She’s not married—unless she has a habit of leaving her rings at home.”

“What? On the table?”

Leo shakes his head. “No. A jewelry box in the bedroom.”

“What about the kid?” “He has to be about eight, or nine? Name’s Jeyson. You were right, he’s definitely Angel’s. Wish I could show you the picture. He couldn’t deny that kid if he tried.”

“Yeah.” Tommy nods impatiently, motioning for him to continue. “What else?”

“Kid goes to some boujee ass prep school up north. Gilman something? Embroidered blazers, ties, the whole nine. His mom’s paying a pretty penny too, apparently, it's the best in the state. He’s into the typical shit kids are into. Star Wars, Spider-Man. Plays the piano, apparently, he’s actually really fucking good. Awards and all. His mom’s got him pretty busy. A lot of after-school activities. Looks like she and Angel rotate transportation...She must not be around right now tho.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Apart from the fact you’re still not transported to a new unit?” Leo scoffs. “The kid was with someone else when I was scouting. A girl and a kid with a prospect patch.”

“Mayans?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe his little brother...last I heard he was hemmed up here. Haven’t seen him around tho.”

“Maybe he got out?”

Tommy dismisses Leo’s suggestion. “Most cop killers don’t walk free. What else?”

“He’s not doing a good job of keeping his nephew safe. I talked to the kid.”

Tommy’s eyes open. “You did what?”

“He walked right off with me.” Leo quietly explains. He mistakes his brother’s silence as a cue to move forward with his story. “His uncle was so into his date he didn’t even notice the kid walk off with me--”

The sight of Tommy’s hand running down his face tapers the rest of Leo’s statement.

His voice comes out low, through his clenched teeth. “I didn’t tell you to touch the kid.”

“I didn’t touch the kid,” Leo’s eyes rolled. “I got him a funnel cake—” “I don’t give a fuck—” the slamming of Tommy’s fist against the table brings the room to a brief silence. The eyes that he has attracted linger on Tommy as his glare nearly burns a hole through his brother. Rogers shrugs off the wall nearby. He takes a step of warning in Tommy’s direction. “—what you did, Leo—it was stupid.”

“How else was I supposed to get him to talk to me?”

Tommy’s response comes out slowly. Each passing word increases his irritation.

“You didn’t need him to talk to you because I didn’t ask you to talk to him. Buying him a funnel cake, or whatever the fuck your grand plan was allowed the kid to see your face. He can open up his mouth and ID you—”

“ID me,” Leo snorts, dismissing Tommy’s claim. “Relax, Tommy. He’s not a state witness, he’s a kid—“

“Yeah, and according to you and his 'boujee ass prep school,' he’s a smart ass fucking kid, Leo.” Tommy lets out a long sigh. “The last thing I need is the kid opening his mouth to his mom about some random guy approaching him.”

“Don’t worry, I played it cool. Told him I was a friend of his dad. Maybe, if you had told me exactly why I went there I wouldn’t—”

It was something Tommy had explained to his brother during their last visit. The less you know, the better.

“I already told you,” Tommy rubs at his temple, the sudden throbbing causing his jaw to clench. “I needed to double-check something.”

“And that’s what I did.” Leo sighs. “What I want to know is, why the fuck you called me all the way down here to check pictures in some house.”

Tommy studies his brother for a moment. He shifts forward, his elbows settling against the table.

“You wanna know why I didn’t tell you? You don’t think, Leo. I ask you to do one thing—one fucking thing—and you almost fuck it up. If I wanted you to think I wouldn’t have told you exactly what to do.” Leo’s jaw tightens as his brother continues. “You trying to think leads to you doing dumb shit like kidnapping her fucking son—”

“I didn’t kidnap him,” Leo mumbles.

Tommy’s fingers massage his clenched fist. “You’re lucky I can’t reach across this fucking table right now.”

Leo’s gaze drops from his brothers. The look that lies in Tommy’s eyes is one he’s seen before—at least not directed at him. It’s the look that accompanied the acts that earned Tommy his nickname. Leo’s gaze nervously shifts towards Rogers who is still watching Tommy from his post.

“What do you want with her? Thinking she’s gonna give you a shot? Criminal is her type, and she’s definitely yours.”

“It’s not her I need. It’s Angel.” Tommy starts, his jaw tightening as his gaze remains on Leo. “And if you want Angel, you need her.”

“If she’s as good as you say, what do you need Angel for? You’ve been talking about her like she might actually get you off.”

Leo steals a brave glance at his brother. He watches as Tommy looks up from his tattooed knuckles.

“No matter how hard you pray, people like me and you don't come out on the right side of the law. No matter how fucking good she is, she can't get me out of this. This shit is stacked too high against me." Tommy’s gaze shifts to the clock overhead. “Did you find the necklace?”

Leo nods as Tommy stands.

“Good, go ahead and do what I asked.” Tommy pauses, his voice lowering as his gaze meets his brothers. “Nothing else, Leonardo. The time I'm looking at right now, I’ll fucking kill you right here if you pull some shit like that again.”

At some point Monday night, Angel abandoned his spot on the sofa to crawl into bed with you. His intention may have been to take one side of the bed, but to no surprise, he has failed.

You came to this revelation at two o’clock in the morning when you tried to roll over but found it to be impossible. You have been stuck on your back ever since. You attempted to fall back asleep but have not been able to.

Cheek pressed against your chest, arm wrapped around your waist, Angel hasn’t moved. He doesn’t move when your alarm goes off at 7:30 or when the knock comes on the door at 8:00.

The sleep Angel lost, the past two days over Tommy seems to have piled onto him. He only wakes when your fingers brush through his hair, the warmth of your touch lingering against his cheek.

“You have to get up and eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.” Angel mumbles. The sunlight peeking through the curtains prompts him to burrow his face against your neck. “I’m tired.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you smile softly. “But, I’m hungry, and I can’t get our food with you laying on top of me.”

Your words are met with a huff before Angel rolls over. Resting on his back, he watches the fan spin as you get out of bed.

His first instinct is to check his phone. He pushes himself up, his body protesting with the sudden movement, once he realizes his cellphone is not where he left it.

“Where’s my phone?”

His palms pressed against his eyes as he pushes away the enticing thought of laying back down for a few more hours of sleep.

“It kept going off,” you look up from the plate in your hand. “Ezekiel kept texting you.”

“What did he want?”

Angel watches you shrug. “I don’t know. I put it in the drawer. I tried to wake you up, but you were literally dead.”

Angel releases a sigh of relief before reaching over to open the bedside drawer. Facedown, his phone has several notifications. He ignores the rest, focusing on those from his younger brother.

2:30 a.m. 📲 : You still up?

2:35 a.m. 📲 : Talked to Bishop. Found out what the shipment was

3:00 a.m. 📲 : Pretty sure I found something else

3:02 a.m. 📲 : Don’t know if this is the guy. If it is we might have a problem

3:03 a.m. 📲: Found this in the paper

3:04 a.m. 📲 : Check it out and call me back.

The last incoming message was a photo, the front page of the Daily Imperial Gazette. Angel scans the article as you climb back into bed. A few phrases stick as he reads, “Man charged in Santo Padre murder…” “Thomas Flores, 30, has been charged…” “...obtained representation from Lorente & Rothman…” “...Friday, Flores was denied bond…”

“I have to tell you something.”

Angel instinctively hits the power button on his phone. Glancing up, he realizes you haven’t even bothered to look up at him. Your focus is on the half-eaten croissant in your hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you explain as you take another bite of your croissant. “The case Samuel gave me—the one Aiden is helping me with—it’s for this guy. His name’s Tommy Flores. He has some pretty...intense charges, so you’re probably going to hear people talking about it soon. We had court Friday, and the judge...he’s pretty tough. He denied any form of a bond, he didn’t even bother trying to set a ridiculously high one.”

You glance up to find Angel’s eyes on you. His unreadable expression causes your brow to furrow. You mistake the look in his eyes as uncertainty.

“I honestly don’t think it’s anything you have to worry about.” Offering him a smile, you lightly roll your eyes. “But I’m going to have to start working late when we get back, so I need to know that what happened Friday won’t happen again.”

You wait for Angel’s response, but it doesn’t come.

“If I take over morning drop-offs, can I count on you to pick Jeyson up after school?” You continue. “Or, do I have to ask Isabela to do it...Angel?”

Angel blinks as your fingers snap.

“Are you listening to me?” The irritation he finds as his focus shifts to you causes him to nod.

Angel nods a second time as he takes in the look of skepticism on your face.

“Yeah, I’m listening.”

“So, you’re good with picking Jeyson up from school?” You clarify. “Every day of the week?”

Angel unlocks his phone, nodding for the third time. “Yeah. I’ll pick him up.”

“And if you can’t,” you reach forward. You catch Angel's chin forcing him to look at you. “You call and let me know the moment you find out?”

Nodding, Angel drops his eyes the second your gaze meets his. “I gotta call Ez.”

Despite his admission, your hand doesn’t drop preventing him from getting up. For a moment, Angel thinks you’ll let it go. For once, you will ignore the feeling you get each time you notice a change in him. It is something no one else in his life can seem to do. It is something you’ve been able to do your entire life. It is something Angel wishes you couldn’t do.

“What’s wrong?”

Angel shakes his head as you release him. He keeps his eyes trained on the plate in your lap avoiding your gaze as your touch brushes through his hair. It's a habit. Angel knows the moment he meets your gaze he’ll tell you whatever is on his mind. It’s impossible not to do when he knows you can read him best that way. He picks up what’s left of your croissant and takes a bite.

You sit your plate aside before closing the distance between the two of you. Angel’s eyes lift to meet yours as you settle on his lap. The warmth of your palms finds his cheeks as you take his face in your hands.

“I’ve known you nearly my entire life, Angel. I know you don’t believe it, but I can tell when you’re lying to me. Just like I can tell when you’re upset and anxious. And when you’re going to annoy me.” The soft smile on your lips brings a weak one to his. “There’s no point in trying to act like I don’t. What’s wrong?”

“You were right about Friday night. I wasn’t with Samuel. I wasn’t even in Santo Padre.” Angel lets out a deep breath. His voice low as your fingers toys with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Ez and I were in Mexico. I left when you were in court. I knew we weren’t going to make it back in time, but I didn’t want to have to tell you because I knew you’d be pissed.”

“What happened to your hand?”

He watches you lift it. Your finger traces the bandage.

“Cut it on a shovel.”

Your gaze lifts to find his focus on the path your finger traces.

“...okay.”

Angel shook his head. “It’s not okay—I fucked up. Forreal this time—“

"What? On Friday?” You let out a deep breath. “Angel, I know I freaked out. Missing the recital—yeah, it was fucked up—but it is not the worse thing you’ve done.”

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve that.” Your eyes watch him release a tired laugh, his gaze down. "You defend me, even when you shouldn’t.”

It is true. Defending Angel has been second nature your entire life. Often you do it in response to others. But also in response to him. When you were teenagers, you learned a valuable lesson about him. Angel is his worst critic. He’ll talk himself down harsher than anyone, even those who hate him.

“It’s because I love you.” Your arms wrap around his neck pulling him into a hug. “Just because we fight and say stupid things to each other doesn’t mean that I don’t love you, Angel. If I haven’t been able to stop doing that our entire time together, I don’t know why you think a fight in a therapy session is going to be the final straw. Me not talking to you is just the easiest way for me not to say something I’ll regret later.”

Angel’s grip tightens around you as your lips press against his skin.

“At this point, there isn’t anything you can do or say that’s going to make me stop loving you.” The reassurance in your voice lifts his gaze to yours. “Okay?”

Your lips press against his in a soft kiss. You leave a second against his forehead before getting up.

“I have to take a shower,” you announce as Angel’s arm wraps around your waist guiding your body back towards his. Your fingers drift into his hair as his head rests against you. “There’s more food you should eat before we go out.”

The two of you stay that way for nearly a minute. Angel releases you as the sound of your ringing phone fills the air.

Silence from Angel Reyes is a bad sign. Such a rarity, it wrings your stomach into knots. It has been hours since you woke to find him sleeping against you. Angel has said just as little as he did in the morning. When you stepped out of the shower, you found him fully dressed and brushing his teeth.

You glance over your shoulder to find he’s standing where you last left him. Arms crossed over his chest Angel rests against the wall as far from the line as possible. With his sunglasses on, you can’t tell where he’s looking. The corner of his lips turns up into a small smile as you come to a stop before him.

“Who knew smoothies took forever to make,” he sighs as your arms wrap around his waist.

Resting your cheek against Angel's chest, you tighten your grip. You listen to the steady rhythm of his heart as his lips press against your hair.

“I want you to come somewhere with me tonight.”

“No,” Angel chuckles. You tip your head back, pouting as his gaze drops to yours.

He shakes his head as your weight shifts to your toes.

“Please,” you ask, your lips pressing a kiss against his.

“Last time I did that, you ripped me to shreds,” he laughs. “I haven’t even had time to recover from that.”

“It’ll be fun,” you promise. The second kiss you leave morphs Angel's smile into a grin. You leave a third, this one against his cheek. “I promise.”

Angel releases a long breath as you take a step back, a grin on your face.

“It better be,” he shakes his head as you quickly press a final kiss against his lips before turning to retrieve your order.

As you reach the corner, your cell phone vibrates in your back pocket. You don’t bother checking who it is. Aiden has called you three times. You had sent him a text message in response to his first three calls. Telling him to ask Isabela for help on whatever he needed.

The moment the call goes to voicemail, the vibration picks back up.

You force yourself to take a breath as Angel leads you outside.

“Hi, Aiden--”

“I know this week is supposed to be for you and Angel,” Aiden's voice comes out in a rushed whisper. “But, I need your help.”

“Where are you?” You ask as you take a sip of your smoothie. “And, why are you whispering?”

“I’m at the courthouse,” Aiden sighs. “I’ve been here all morning, and they’re giving me the run-around.”

“About what?”

“The Warden called the office this morning. You weren’t there, so I answered your desk phone. He didn’t give me many details, just that Flores was detained last night. They couldn't get him to say anything—to no surprise—but one of the guards said he was involved in an altercation with another inmate. Apparently, Tommy messed him up pretty bad—like...transported to the local hospital bad.”

Angel glances over at you as you slip out of his grip. You take a seat at the table he stops alongside.

In the short time, you’ve worked with Aiden, you’ve learned one thing. The moment he thinks there is something to panic about, Aiden will panic. So, if you sound stressed it kicks off his panicking.

Resting your face in your hand, you speak quietly. “So, he wasn't transferred on Friday as I'd requested? If he was he couldn't have gotten in a fight.”

“I know. Apparently this isn't the first one he's been in. The Warden said he looks like he’s been roughed up in the past few days. I’ve been here since first thing this morning—”

“Let me guess.” You rest back against your seat. “They told you there’s nothing they can do, with the prison being at full capacity they don’t have a cell for him?”

A brief silence falls over the receiver. Aiden’s brow furrows.

“Yeah—how'd you know?”

“That’s because it’s bullshit,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Judge Miller was hoping you’d leave and not press the issue.”

“Shit,” Aiden mumbles. “Shit, should I call Samuel—”

“God no. Aiden, I’ll tell you what to do, and say, just relax.”

“I lied to you.”

Angel glances down at you as your lips press against his knuckles. “About what?”

“About wanting to wait to get married.”

Your admission leaves Angel quiet. He opens his mouth to speak, but it closes as you place a second kiss against his skin.

You tilt your head back to find his eyes focused on the water.

“I was talking to Izzy the other day—not about getting married—but about you and...I mean...we’re trying to have another kid.” You backtrack as his gaze drifts to you. “That’s not the only reason, but I don’t want to spend another seven years playing house with you, Angel. I have tried so hard to find reasons why we should just leave each other in the past, but it’s impossible. I can’t help thinking that we’ve wasted so much time trying to fight it we should just get married.”

If he is excited by your words, Angel doesn’t show it. If he’s anxious by your words Angel doesn’t show it. The only response he gives is the furrowing of his brow as his pace slows before coming to a complete stop.

“I thought you’d be...a little happier,” you admit. The butterflies in your stomach seem to double in size as Angel's gaze focuses on your interlaced fingers.

“Right now?” Angel gently squeezes your hand, the smile slowly spreading across his lips causing you to shake your head. “A fancy place like this I’m pretty sure we could find someone to do it tonight.”

“Preferably with your son there,” you giggle as his lips press against your forehead.

“Just so you know,” Angel mumbles as he leaves a kiss against your lips. “You can’t take it back.”

“It’d be pointless,” you admit, your eyes focused on the incoming tide. “Regardless of what I say, you’re impossible to escape.”

“Like you said, it must be fate,” he teases as you step back towards the security of the shore.

“I didn’t say fate. I said I was tired of trying to outrun you.”

Angel’s eyes roll. “Okay.”

Pushing against his chest, you cause him to stumble backward making it impossible for him to avoid the incoming tide.

“Fuck—”

Angel’s scream is drowned out by the sound of your laughter. He tries to escape the chilled water but realizes it’s pointless as a second wave rolls through.

“Is it cold?” You ask the grin on your face prompting him to take a step in your direction. “Because it looked like it was cold.” The look on his face causes your laughter to return.

“You’re about to find out how cold it is.” The promise in his voice causes you to take a step back.

You catch sight of Angel’s smile before you take off running.

Between the giggles that leave you breathless and the sand between your feet, you don’t get very far before Angel’s arms wrap around you.

“I’m sorry, okay. Let me go, please?” Angel’s grip loosens as you turn to face him. “I really am sorry.”

A gasp escapes your lips as your feet leave the ground. Blood rushes to your head as Angel tosses you over your shoulder. It only takes a second for you to realize he’s turned and is carrying you back towards the water.

“Angel Ignacio Reyes put me down now!”

“Be careful what you wish for, baby girl,” Angel chuckles as he carries you into the water.

It doesn’t matter that you’re both fully clothed Angel carries you out until the water is waist-deep. He comes to a stop. Shifting you in his arms, he grins as your arms instantly wrap around his neck.

“You think this is far enough?” He asks as you take in your surroundings.

“I hate you,” you giggle as you meet his playful gaze.

“I could go further out,” he takes a step forward.

“Just do it.”

Judging by the mischievous grin on his lips, you expect him to drop you in. For whatever reason, Angel spares you a dunking. Instead, he carefully lowers you to your feet.

The chill of the water causes your grip to tighten around him. He waits until you’re standing to let go of you.

You can’t suppress the smile that finds your lips as he kisses you.

“You’re lucky you buttered me up beforehand,” he chuckles as you step around him.

He follows you back to shore watching as you glance down the beach, back towards the lights of the hotel. Your pace slows as you start in the direction of the hotel.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Despite the nod of reassurance, you force yourself to take another breath. You shake your head slightly, a tiny smile finding your lips. It takes a third breath for the feeling to pass. “I just—got lightheaded for a second.”

“Uh-huh. Funny how you get ‘lightheaded’ the second I take my shirt off. I don’t know why you still try and play this game at this point.”

Your eyes open in time to allow you the moment you need to react. Catching the shirt tossed your way, you watch Angel unzip his jeans.

"Angel put your shirt back on–I’m serious.” The warning in your voice stretches the smile on Angel’s lips. Your eyes leave him, long enough to drift back to the glow of the hotel’s lanterns still visible. The laughter and music cause you to step in his direction. “You are not getting naked on the beach! Are you trying to get us kicked out of here—”

“I wasn’t planning on going in naked,” Angel laughs. It is an admission of truth, but the sight of your panicked gaze causes a mischievous grin to take over his features. “But, I’m down to if you are—“

“No—"

“You know what?” Angel nods as he tugs his foot out of his jeans. “Your plan is better.”

“Angel—“

There’s no point throwing in a protest. Angel has fully stripped down to his briefs.

You step forward as he moves to push them down.

“I am serious, Angel. Do not do it.”

He rolls his neck before letting out a loud, and exaggerated, “fine.”

“But the only way that’s coming back on,” he nods towards the shirt in your hands before taking a step back. “You gotta join me.”

“I’m not doing this.”

Angel shoots you a look of skepticism as he takes another step towards the water.

“You’re already wet,” he chuckles. “Might as well get in.”

You remain where you are as Angel turns and makes his way into the water.

He waits until he’s waist-deep to start swimming out. He disappears out of sight as you drop his shirt to the ground. Stepping out of your flip-flops, you roll your eyes as you watch him resurface under the moonlight.

“Hurry up!” Even with the distance between the two of you, you can see Angel’s grin in your mind perfectly.

Despite your initial protest, you stay in the water for nearly an hour. Angel stands alongside you. His right-hand rests against your spine, his left interlaced with yours as your float. He watches you, his eyes admiring the moonlight against your skin as you focus on the stars above.

“I can’t remember the last time I looked at these,” you admit.

He smiles as your eyes drift shut. “Mom used to freak every time she caught us sneaking onto the roof to look at them.”

“That’s because you fell off one time. Nearly gave her a heart attack.”

“Wouldn’t have been the first time.”

You bite back a smile as Angel’s lips lightly brush against yours. They drift to the bridge of your nose as you release a soft giggle.

“Speaking of mom’s, yours came by last week.” Angel watches as the smile on your face slowly fades. “You were at work. I was taking Jeyson to school. She said she’s been calling you.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you admit. “She’s blocked.”

“I was thinking...since we’re heading back a day early, we should stop by your mom’s on the way back–”

“No.”

Angel releases a deep breath. He wasn’t naive to think you would jump at the idea. But, since seeing her, Angel couldn’t get the thought out of his mind.

“I know ya’ll don’t get along, but my mom’s not here to see Jeyson grow up. I think he should be able to know the grandparents he has left.”

“I get that, but I’m not doing it.”

Your eyes remain closed as you concentrate on the waves gently pushing against your skin.

Angel doesn’t say anything else on the subject. He knows your response will stay the same. It has for the past nine years. He also doesn’t say anything else because he knows he’s the reason you won’t budge.

The hatred your mother has for Angel may be misplaced, but she is too stubborn to admit it. She has always blamed Angel for many of your actions, starting when you were kids. Anytime you didn’t go through with what she had planned for you, Angel was to blame. You missed curfew in high school Angel was to blame. You skipped school on your birthday Angel was to blame. You didn’t attend the college she spent her entire life preparing you for Angel was to blame. You got pregnant out of wedlock Angel was to blame.

It had all came to a head at your baby shower. Angel wasn’t there, but it was the first time he’d ever seen his mother truly angry. Sure, Marisol had gotten mad at Angel countless times. But seeing how mad Marisol was as she recounted the fight she had witnessed between you and your mother, Angel was shocked.

He never asked what words were exchanged, and he didn’t have to. All he knew was that from that moment forward, everyone avoided the subject of your mother.

“I get what you’re saying, Angel,” you sigh. “But, if my mom truly wanted to get to know Jeyson she would apologize. I can’t bring our son around someone that has said the things she’s said about you. If she can say them about you, she can say them about him because Jeyson is your son.”

“Shit, I really look as bad as I feel?”

The smile on Tommy’s face grows as you look up. The heat covering your skin seems to rise as you start to speak.

“No—” You wince. “I’m sorry for staring—it’s rude.”

“It’s all good,” Tommy chuckles as he watches your eyes leave his.

He watches as you bite your lip. Whatever is on your mind, you don’t share it. Instead, your eyes linger on the bruise beneath his right eye. You’ve seen enough damage on Angel to know how bad it must have looked a few days prior.

“Hey, relax.” Tommy shifts forward in his seat, the sound of his shackles dragging across the table causing your attention to refocus. He meets your gaze. “The Doc cleared me—gave me my two Advil and sent me back to my cell. I think it’s safe to say I’m not gonna die.”

Despite the smile on his face, your head still shakes.

“Yeah, but I still feel bad that it happened. I was supposed to double-check the clearance of your paperwork.”

“Trust me, it’s not your fault,” Tommy chuckles. He watches your eyes drop to his freshly bruised knuckles. “It’s mine. The funny thing about this place is, you always run into people from your past. My mom used to said I never knew when to stop talking. I might have said the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

You watch as Tommy’s eyes briefly drift over your shoulder to where Rogers sits in the corner. His smile returns as his gaze drifts back to you.

“So, I take it you had fun.” He notes your raised brow before backtracking. “The Warden said he called your office and your boyfriend answered, said you were out of town.”

Your eyes roll. “Hey, go easy on my boyfriend. He’s the one who went to the courthouse. From what I hear, he slammed Judge Miller hard because your paperwork has been approved.”

You take in Tommy’s skepticism. You slide the signed form across the table, allowing him a better view.

“Signed by the Warden as well,” you point out. “Thanks to Aiden as soon as we’re done here, you’re being moved out of the unit.”

“No shit?” Tommy chuckles. He nods in approval as he scans the form. “I’ll be sure to thank Aiden when I see him. Guess you were right. He’s got some balls after all...Look, I know I’m not the easiest client….so um….Thanks for pushing for this. Making sure everything was straight. Most people would’ve just left me where I was.”

“Yeah, well I can’t have you die before I get fully paid.”

The laugh Tommy releases brings a smile to your lips. He settles back against his chair as you pick up your pen.

"I need you to understand that this new assignment may not be your favorite," you explain. "You're being moved to a new unit, but I can't get you moved again. That means, you can't do anything else, Tommy. Do you understand me?"

Tommy nods. He looks up as your hand finds his.

"This," your lift his hand forcing him to take in his swollen knuckles. "The shit you pulled. You're lucky they didn't throw you in AdSeg. That's 23 hours in your cell. No phone calls, no visits. Nothing. The only reason they didn't throw you in there is because they messed up, and didn't want Aiden to draw a motion against the judge. I don't care what you have to do, but you better learn to walk away from a fight. Now."

"I know." Tommy sighs as you let him go.

“Then do it. My job is already hard enough as it is. I can't have you trying to kill someone while you're already here for murder. Plus, the judge is pissed because of the paperwork Aiden had to file. That's not good for either of us. So, that means I need your help.”

His brow raises, the corners of his lips turning up into a smirk. “I thought I was supposed to be the one asking for help.”

“True, but help is a two-way street.”

Tommy hesitates for a moment. His eyes drop to his knuckles as he lets off a light shrug.

“What do you need?”

“For you to tell me why you were meeting with Alexander Maddox the night you were arrested.”

Tommy’s smile fades quicker than it came. His jaw tightens as he shakes his head.

You sit forward resting your elbows on the table.

“Tommy, if it’s about the MC.” Tommy’s eyes lift for a brief second. Long enough for you to catch a glimpse of the shock in his eyes. You lower your voice. “I know you’re with the Horsemen—”

Tommy shakes his head. “Look—I get you got a job to do, but—there’s just shit with the MC I can’t talk about—”

“I know how this stuff works—”

“Got a lot of personal experience with an MC?” Tommy asks.

His question causes you to release a deep breath.

“If you don’t want to tell me anything, fine. But when it comes down to it, Tommy. People will cut you off to save themselves.” The irritation in your voice lifts his gaze. “That shipment you were carrying, was not a dime bag. Your brothers will let you go down for this. Hard. They will let you rot in here for the rest of your fucking life if it means avoiding a R.I.C.O. case.”

Tommy’s brow furrows. “What’s a R.I.C.O.?”

His question throws you off. The pure confusion on his face causes you to backtrack.

“You seriously don’t know what that is?”

“I mean—I’ve heard of it...how do you know what it is?”

“It’s what you pay me for,” you remind him.

“Then I guess I’m paying you to explain it to me.”

The moment you step outside of the elevator, you come face to face with a wide-eyed Isabela.

“Is your phone dead?” She asks the irritation in her voice causing your brow to arch.

“Off—I had a client meeting with Tommy. I thought I told you—”

Isabela ignores your response, her eyes focused in the direction of your office. “Yeah, whatever. I’ve been calling you for the last freaking hour—”

“Sorry—ow.” You wince as Isabela catches your arm. She pulls you to a stop. “What?”

She releases her grip, but she sidesteps. Blocking your path, Isabela places both hands on your shoulders. She ignores the look of confusion on your face, her gaze studying yours.

“How are you?”

Her question causes you to hesitate. “...Fine...why?”

Isabela takes another moment to study your eyes as if she doesn’t fully believe you before nodding.

“Just so you know,” she sighs as she takes a step back. “I did not let her in. Aiden did. He didn’t know any better—bless his heart—”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your mother.” Isabela winces at the look on your face. “She’s in your office. Promise me you won’t make a scene.”

“It’s never me you have to worry about,” you mumble.

When you enter your office, you find your mother is not where Aiden asked her to sit and wait for you.

She is standing behind your desk studying a photo that she holds in her hands.

“Put it back.”

She jumps at the sound of your voice, her body turning so that she faces you.

“Put it back, please.”

Her eyes return to the photo of Angel seated on his bike. A grinning Jeyson is seated in front of him, clinging to the handlebars.

“He looks so much like his father.”

You cross the room. Taking the photo, you place it back in its original resting place before dropping your purse onto your desk.

“What do you want?” You ask as you watch step around your desk.

“Is that a way to greet your mother?”

“According to the last time we spoke, I don’t have one.” You recollect as you take a seat. “It’s been...nearly nine years, so my memory might be a little hazy, but I’m pretty sure that’s what you told me.” Your brow furrows as she moves to take the seat across from you. “There’s no need for you to sit. This conversation won’t last long. I have a meeting in a few minutes. What do you want?”

Your mother’s jaw tightens as she remains standing. Her eyes roll as she speaks. “I take it he didn’t pass along my message.”

“He did pass along your message, actually,” you admit. “Believe it or not, Angel said I should call you and listen to what you had to say. I just chose to do what I’ve done for the past nine years—ignore it. If you’re not going to answer my question, mom, then you can leave.”

“Your father and I want to see our grandson—”

“No.”

She expects more, but your attention has already moved on to the papers you’ve dropped onto your desk.

“See, I told you the conversation wouldn’t last long.”

“Y/N,” your mother objects. “It’s been nearly nine years.”

Your fingers interlaced as you force yourself to take a deep breath. You surprise even yourself as your voice comes out quiet and calm.

“I told you before. I do not want you near my son, and I meant it. I don’t care what excuse you’ve come here to give today. I’m not changing my mind. Your only hope is to speak with his father, and hope he’s more forgiving than I am.”

Aiden stops in the doorway, his eyes widening as he reads the room. He takes a step back but pauses as you give him a warm smile.

“Hi, Aiden! Please tell me you haven’t eaten lunch yet.”

“No,” Aiden clears his throat. His eyes briefly pass to your mother whose gaze remains on you. “I haven’t.”

“Good. Can you order two of whatever you’re having? I’ll pay. We have to go ahead and look over this case.”

Aiden nods as you add, “great. Can you also escort my mother downstairs? She’s ready to leave.”

“I’m sorry for ruining your retreat.”

Aiden’s apology breaks your concentration.

Seated on the floor of your office, Aiden has his back pressed against your desk. His usually polished appearance is disheveled. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the top buttons of his shirt undone. His tie and jacket are discarded on the back of your chair.

His apology is one he has been working himself up to share for the last three hours. Each time he thought of sharing it, he’s backed out. At this point, he’s run out of pointless conversation and has reached the bottom of your takeout container that he took over.

“What are you talking about?”

Aiden’s eyes remain on the chopsticks in his hand.

“Isabela told me not to call you about Tommy,” he clears his throat. He steals a glance in your direction. “She said it should wait until you got back—but as usual—I panicked and called you. Now you’re back early--”

“Aiden, you didn’t ruin my retreat,” you sigh. Your palms rub against your tired eyes. “It was rocky was to begin with.”

The admission silences the office. Aiden nods before opening his mouth.

“So,” you smile as you lightly bump his shoulder with yours. “Please, don’t worry about it. Angel was probably happy you called so he could leave.”

Your gaze returns to the slow-paced printer. Upon learning you were coming home early, Aiden had sent you a text message.

📲: I have some stuff to show you about Tommy.

And by “some stuff” Aiden meant a board. He had stolen one of Samuel’s whiteboards from the conference room. The entire surface is covered in your notes and information from Tommy’s files.

“I can’t believe you did all this while I was gone,” you stare at the board. “Your girlfriend might think you’re spending too much time on me.”

Aiden’s smile is sheepish. “If I had one, I wouldn’t have had time to do this.”

“Well, remind me to find you one because this is amazing.” The tease causes Aiden’s smile to grow. “I’m serious, Aiden. I can’t believe you thought you couldn’t be any help.”

“I didn’t really do anything,” he shrugs, his gaze focused on the paper in his hand. “They’re all your notes, I just organized them.”

His eyes widen, a grin finding his lips as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Call it whatever you want,” you smile. “But I still get to say thank you.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he rubs the back of his neck before glancing over at you. “We’re a team….speaking of...I found this.”

The picture he lifts is not new. It is one you’ve seen before. Your brow furrows as you take in the pregnant woman on display.

“I already know who that is,” you admit. “It’s the girlfriend of—”

“Alexander Maddox.” Aiden nods. “Right. I kept going back to your notes. You had one question. Why was Tommy meeting with Maddox in the first place?”

Your head shakes the confusion on your face prompting the rolling of Aiden’s eyes.

“How is this the answer?”

“You were asking the wrong question.” A mischievous grin slides onto his face as Aiden realizes you’re still not following his train of thought. “I can’t believe I figured something out before you—”

“Oh my goodness, Aiden—”

“When he was arrested, Tommy was carrying a shipment--”

“Yeah, something he shouldn’t have been doing by himself.”

Aiden’s brow arches. “You got a history of drug trafficking I don’t know about?”

“You’d be surprised what you pick up on this job.”

Aiden shakes his head as you motion for him to continue.

“While I was working, I kept thinking back to our conversation at the courthouse,” Aiden continues. “You said Tommy’s smart—"

“He uses people to get what he wants.”

“Exactly,” Aiden grins. He lifts the picture in his hand. “Why would Maddox meet up with someone from a rival club, in the middle of the night, with his pregnant girlfriend in tow if he was threatened by them?”

Aiden doesn’t bother answering the question. Instead, he waits for you to make the connection. The smile on his face remains as your eyes widen.

“Because he was there to make a deal.”

“Exactly!” Despite the smile on your face, Aiden’s face dampens. “...but that’s as far as I got. I don’t really know what made Tommy kill him—”

“Of course you do, Aiden.” Despite your reassurance and the confidence in your voice, Aiden’s expression hasn’t changed. “Your brain just needs a second to catch up. Maddox didn’t keep up his end of the deal. He probably tried to screw Tommy over. Not realizing that Tommy would kill him, girlfriend in tow.”

"Well, now we know why Tommy's been tight-lipped about that night. Probably doesn't want it to get out that he was skimming from the club's business."

The hug you give him brings the same response as before.

“I should help you out more often.” Aiden chuckles as you give him a squeeze.

“Careful,” you tease. “Angel’s not too fond of sharing.”

“Speaking of Angel…” Aiden’s gaze meets yours. “I know you asked me not to say anything to him about Samuel—”

“It’s okay.”

Aiden nods, but he continues. His rambling brings a soft smile to your lips.

“Yeah, but I just...I didn’t want you to think I was okay with what Samuel did.” His words come out quietly as he shakes his head. “The way he talked to you...it wasn’t right. You work harder than anyone here—including him—and for Samuel to do that was fucked up. I didn’t say anything in the meeting, and I should have. So, I just...I told Angel when he asked about it.”

“He would have found out eventually,” you laugh softly. “Besides, now Angel likes you.”

“For real?” The smile on Aiden’s face stretches into a grin as you nod.

A silence falls over the office as Aiden’s head rests against the desk. His brow furrows as your eyes fall to your hands. There is a final question on his mind. One he’s tried to find a way to raise since he started flipping through your notes on Saturday morning.

“Are you pregnant?”

The question lifts your gaze.

Aiden reaches into the pocket of his shirt. Your eyes widen as you take in the white card he produces. It is a card you spent the entire morning trying to find. The scheduled appointment one you have yet to share with Angel.

“It was in the notebook you turned over for me and Samuel to review,” Aiden explains as he passes the card over. “Don’t worry. I saw it before he did...I figured he was the last person you wanted to know.”

Your eyes focus on the date. A week and a half away. The initial scheduling may have been premature, but you couldn’t shake the feeling Angel was right.

“Uh...no—I mean, it’s too early to tell.” You turn the card over before looking up. “I should know by this date, so can you not tell anyone about this? I haven’t even told Izzy...or Angel for that matter. I don’t want to say anything until I’m a hundred percent sure.”

Aiden nods, a soft smile on his lips. “Of course.”

“Thanks.” You allow your head to rest back against the desk. “I don’t want to get Angel’s hopes up too early.”

It was the only thought you’ve had from the moment you woke up alongside Angel that moment. But as you glance back at the card in your hand, you know the truth has nothing to do with Angel. It’s not his hopes that you’re afraid of letting down.

You place the card aside, pulling your knees to your chest. Your gaze drifts to the board before you. The two of you sit in silence, eyes focused on your work. Silently willing your brains to come up with one more revelation before packing it up for the night.

"Alright," Aiden huffs. "I think we've gotten as far as we can get tonight."

HIs brow furrows, a chuckle filling the air as he fingers brush against your arm.

"Didn't take you for a tattoo person."

You glance over at him, following his gaze to the ink on your arm.

"Yeah, well, you've never been dragged to a tattoo parlor with Angel," you laugh. "Now, I try to avoid them at all cost."

"It's pretty cool," he grins, his eyes lingering on the design. "He has one too? Matching?"

"Yep," your eyes roll lightly. "Please don't tease me about teenage decisions."

"I won't," he chuckles. Aiden sits forward, lightly patting your leg before moving to collect the trash.

“Aiden?”

“Huh?” He glances up from the takeout containers in his hands.

“How long was he in Chino?”

“Tommy...uh, hold on.” Balancing the containers in his left, Aiden quickly rifles through the stacks of papers spread across the floor before him. “Says here...he was in Chino for....30 months.”

“Any way we can figure out where he was housed?”

“I don’t know,” Aiden admits as his eyes scan the wrap sheet. “His charges were nothing compared to now. Petty crime, so he wasn’t housed at maximum. Why?”

Once his question is met with silence, Aiden glances over his shoulder at you.

“What’s wrong?” The concern in his eyes slowly morphs to fear as he takes in your expression. “Did I miss something?”

“No, I did.”

“What do you mean?”

Before he can pose the question, you’re already pushing yourself to your feet.

“Go home, okay? It’s getting late—don’t worry about the mess. I’ll clean it up in the morning.”

Although you’ve managed to mask your expression, the trembling of your hands causes Aiden’s brow to furrow.

“You sure?” He objects. He quickly stands, stopping you from grabbing your keys from your desk. “I can send an email about his placement in Chino—”

“No.” Your response comes out more panicked than you want. You quickly backtrack. The reassuring smile you give Aiden not holding the weight it’s meant to. “I’ll do it in the morning. I have to go see Angel.”

“Okay.” Aiden nods. He passes over the sheet watching as you excuse yourself.

Jeyson Reyes sits at the table in the center of the clubhouse, his math homework abandoned. His attention is devoted to the bowl of skittles in front of him. He has spent that past minute carefully picking out his least favorite skittles—the yellow.

“Word on the street is you got a birthday coming up,” Angel accepts another yellow skittle before popping it in his mouth. Jeyson’s eyes widen as he briefly pauses the task at hand. Angel’s brow furrows as his eyes study his son’s face. “How old are you turning again? Five—”

“Nine!”

“Nine? Nah--that can’t be right.” Angel shakes his head as he takes in Jeyson’s broad grin. “I don’t believe you—”

“Uh-huh,” Jeyson nods, dropping another skittle into his father’s palm. “I turn nine in seventeen days.”

“Shit—”

“That’s another dollar in the swear jar,” Jeyson reminds him as he passes Angel another skittle.

“I know,” Angel chuckles. He rests back against his seat, his eyes lingering on your son as he quietly admits. “I can’t believe you’re that old.”

Jeyson’s nose scrunches. “I’m not old.”

“Yeah, you are,” Angel laughs, his hand brushing against Jeyson’s hair. “You’re almost an adult.”

“I’m still a kid,” Jeyson giggles as his eyes lift to meet his father’s. “You’re old—”

“Hey—I am not old,” Angel retorts, the feigned look of offense causing your son’s giggles to increase.

Jeyson reaches over pointing towards the beard Angel’s hand passes over. “You have gray hair—lots of it.”

His father’s gaze narrows as Jeyson’s grin stretches as far as his cheeks will allow. As if to soften the blow, Jeyson drops two more skittles into Angel’s palm before eating one of his own.

Angel’s smile remains as he watches Jeyson redirect his attention back to the bowl of skittles on the table.

“Have you thought about what you want for your birthday?"

Jeyson shrugs. “Not really.”

“Not really?” Angel’s brow raises. “You’re counting down to your birthday, but you don’t know what you want?”

Jeyson lets off a second shrug, his concentration on the skittles causing Angel’s brow to furrow.

“You know we’re gonna end up getting whatever it is you want,” Angel smiles as he ruffles Jeyson’s hair. “You’ve been doing everything you’re supposed to in school.”

Despite Angel’s words, Jeyson’s gaze remains down. He chews on the inside of his cheek. The action causes his father to slide the bowl of skittles aside.

“What’s up? You don't think you can get what you want?”

Nearly a minute passes before Jeyson answers Angel’s question. His voice comes out quietly.

“I want you to stay at home.”

Angel’s brow furrows. The response is not what he’s anticipating. “I am staying at home.”

“My home, not yours.” Jeyson clarifies. “Where mom and I live.”

“That is where I’m staying.”

“You didn’t Friday. Is it because you don’t like living with us?” He asks quietly

Angel’s eyes drift shut, the tightening of his throat causing him to shake his head.

“Your mom and I—” Angel’s voice trails off as Jeyson looks up from the table to meet his gaze.

It is a conversation neither of them has breached before. One Jeyson has found himself thinking about more and more. One Angel knew he would eventually have with his son, but he hadn’t anticipated it to be now. He had also hoped you would be around to help him.

“You having two homes has nothing to do with me not wanting to live with you—or your mom. You don’t remember it, you were too little, but your mom and I...we used to fight a lot.” Angel continues. “I wasn’t nice to her, and I made her cry a lot. So I had to leave. I didn’t want to leave you or her, but I also didn’t want to hurt you or your mom. It took me a while to learn how not to do that. Friday...I couldn’t come home because I didn’t want to fight with your mom.”

“You still made her cry.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Leaning over, Angel brushes his hand against Jeyson’s hair. His touch forces Jeyson’s eyes to meet his. “You know how you and your friends get mad at each other? Sometimes we get mad at the people we love because we don’t see things the same way. But your mom being mad at me has nothing to do with you. Okay? Just because your mom and I might fight, it doesn’t mean I’m leaving.”

The soft smile Angel offers him prompts Jeyson to give him one in return.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m staying with you and your mom or at my house. I love you. That’s not ever gonna change. Never has, never will. Got it?”

Jeyson nods, his smile growing as Angel places a kiss against his skin.

As Jeyson's attention returns to the bowl of skittles, Angel reaches into his kutte. He pulls out the white envelope that he found in the mailbox upon your return home.

He studies the unfamiliar handwriting. Printed in block letters are his name and your address. His gaze passes over the generic American Flag stamp and date pressed into the right corner. The lack of a return address causes him to flip the envelope over.

Angel waits until he comes to a stop outside of the clubhouse to give the envelope a second glance. Tearing the side, he reaches inside pulling out a single index card. The handwriting matches that printed on the envelope.

An anniversary gift for the Old Lady.

Angel tips the envelope. His stomach tightens as the chill of a silver chain hits his palm. The buzzing of his phone in his kutte pocket goes ignored. He doesn’t need to unravel the chain to know who the necklace belongs to. He has looked at the necklace nearly every day since he was eighteen.

The continued vibration of his phone forces an irritated “fuck” from Angel’s lip before he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“What?”

“This is a prepaid call from Thomas Flores, an inmate at the state correctional facility. All phone calls are subject to recording and monitoring. To decline the call, please press nine. To accept the call and all charges that will be incurred, please press one.”

Angel doesn’t remember committing the act of acceptance. A moment later, Tommy’s voice echoes through his receiver. For a man locked inside the walls of Stockton, his voice is calm and lighthearted.

“Damn, it’s been a minute since I’ve heard your voice, Reyes. Can you believe I missed it?”

“The feeling isn’t mutual,” Angel growls, his grip tightening around his phone. “How’d you get this number?”

“Come on, Reyes--give me some credit. I got it the same way I got your address,” Tommy chuckles. “I had to make sure to wish you a happy anniversary. It just passed, right? What is it six—no—seven years? Hopefully, the two of you are doing better these days—”

“Why are you calling?”

“That’s the funny thing,” Tommy sighs, the smile on his face stretches into a grin. “See, I was in my cell a few weeks back, thinking to myself—got a lot of time for that nowadays—and naturally, that led to me thinking of you. And how I missed my old cellmate. Then I remembered...you owe me a favor.”

“A favor? I don’t owe you shit--”

“That’s not how this shit works. I think the person who’s owed a debt gets to decide when it’s paid in full.” Tommy pauses, the silence from Angel’s end allowing him to continue. “Funny thing, I wouldn’t have even thought to call on you for this, but you made a simple mistake all those years ago, Angel. You talked too much...If you don’t want someone to use your Achilles, you don’t share it.” Angel’s brow furrows as Tommy’s words slowly begin to sink in. “Now, you know I’m not a religious man, but I bet you can imagine how good I felt when I realized that God, himself, dropped Y/N into my lap. What are the odds that she and I got brought together? Huh? It’d be a shame to let this God-given opportunity go to waste, don’t you think?”

“What the fuck do you want, Tommy?”

“A lot of things,” Tommy admits. “A turn with your pretty wife for starters. The way you put it, she’d do just about anything for you--”

“She’s not doing anything for you--”

“That’s okay,” Tommy chuckles. “You’ve always had my back when it came down to the wire.”

Angel’s head shakes. “No—Fuck this—I’m hanging up. I told you that night. One and done—”

“I take it you got my gift,” Tommy ignores Angel’s declaration. “And...judging by the unnecessary hostility I’m sensing in your voice, you took a trip down South recently.”

“I want what you took—”

“And you can get it back—scout’s honor.” The sincerity in Tommy’s voice would fool a stranger, but not Angel. “After you help me out one last time. For old times sake.”

“I’m not helping you do shit.”

“Damn,” Tommy sighs. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

“And you’re gonna leave her alone. Come up with an excuse, I don’t care. You’re finding a new attorney—”

“No can do, Reyes. See, I don’t benefit by losing her.” Tommy explains. “Unless you wanna consider my proposal. Last time I’m offering. I think you’ll find my way is the easiest—for everybody involved.”

A silence falls over the line. The trembling of his hands tightening Angel’s grip on his cellphone.

“Alright, well, my time is almost up,” Tommy yawns. His eyes pass to the clock overhead. “Plus, I know it was a lot to dump on you, so I'll give you the night to mull it over. Tell your lady I said thanks for visiting me today.”

Angel’s continued silence brings a grin to Tommy’s face. His chuckle fills this receiver.

“You haven’t told her yet….Tell me, what do you think she’s gonna say when your secret gets out? Do you think she’s gonna stick around this time? If that shit gets out, you’ll be facing more than some 18-month stint in Chino, Reyes. You’ll be facing some real-time. Ask your baby brother how that shit sits with you. All it’ll take is some rumors about the location of a missing state’s witness to start swirling...evidence anonymously getting dropped into the hands of the right people...then you and I just might be sharing a cell again.”

“Trust me, you don’t want that shit to happen.”

“Maybe...maybe not...only time will tell.” Tommy sighs. The calmness of his voice is the opposite of the feeling causing Angel to force out an unsteady breath. “Do me a favor, check with your old lady on how to get on my visitation list. I think you owe me a visit, make the shit quick, Reyes. Maybe she can get them to expedite the paperwork. You got a job to do, and your clock is ticking, homie.”

There is no need for additional words to be exchanged. Tommy hangs up, leaving Angel standing at the end of the driveway. No matter how hard Angel tried to resist—or tried to appear that he was—Tommy knew the hook was set the moment the call began.

When you pull into the clubhouse lot, you find Angel standing at the base of the clubhouse steps.

His eyes meet yours as you park, but he makes no move to meet you. The question is out before you can step around the front of your car.

“Do you know Tommy Flores?”

Angel’s eyes may be on you, but his mind is somewhere else.

“What?”

“Thomas Flores. He was serving time in Chino. Longer than you—thirty months—but you were there the exact same time. Did you hear about him while you were there?” Your question is met with silence. Angel blinks. His brow furrows as he watches you cross the lot. “I know it’s a random question, but Angel it’s really important. Okay?”

It’s common for people to cross paths. Chino is not a prison. It’s smaller than Stockton. Inmates flood in and out like clockwork. That's what your mind can produce in the time it takes you to come to a stop before him.

But it’s the look in Angel’s eyes that tightens your stomach.

It’s a look you’ve only seen once in your life.

Nearly two years ago. A night you hadn't revisited in quite some time.

When Angel had shown up unannounced at your house. This was nothing new.

Only this time, the pounding on your front door had woken you, Jeyson, and nearly half the neighborhood.

Your initial assumption was that he was drunk—it wouldn’t have been the first time Angel had shown up after a few beers and a shitty hookup only to find his way back to you. Begging you to let him stay the night, swearing to plead his drunken case, only to pass out against you the moment you were seated on the sofa.

Only this time—the moment you’d gotten the door open you were crushed by his weight. Angel's grip had been tight. The pressure caused you to wince as his face burrowed against your skin.

For once, you couldn't detect alcohol--just sweat and dirt. His grip had tightened as you tried to move back and take a better look at him.

You didn't get much out of him that night. The most you could get him to do was shower. Which was for the best because, by the time you'd helped him dry off, Angel's adrenaline crashed. He’d passed out in your bed a minute later.

In the morning, he didn’t produce much of an explanation.

"Sorry if I scared you last night," he'd mumbled as he headed to the door. "I know you asked me not to show up—unannounced like that but—I just wanted to see you."

“Yeah,” Angel nods. “I knew him.”

You wait for elaboration, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Angel takes a step back. He finds a seat on the steps, his left hand reaching up to rub his eyes.

“Yeah, I knew him? What the hell does that mean? You knew of him, or you kn—”

“No, I knew—I know him.” Angel releases a sigh, his fist crumpling the envelope he holds. “He was my cellmate.”

“No, he wasn't.” The response is automatic. The laugh you release echoes across the parking lot. The meaning behind Angel’s silence doesn’t fully register. Your brain is still reeling, trying to find a rational explanation to deny his statement and what it means. You shake your head. “No, he wasn’t. That is not fucking possible—“

“Cellblock D. That’s where they house all gang-affiliated inmates. They don’t give a shit if you’re an MC or not. It’s all the same.” Angel quietly explains, his eyes watching the realization begin to sink into your features. “They put you together with guys from other places, knowing you might not have a brother to watch your back if you need protection. Tommy’s cellmate had recently been discharged. So, after intake, I took the open space—“

“Angel, stop. I can’t have you telling me this,” you cut him off. The sight of your widened eyes not deferring Angel’s train of thought. “Do you know what this means for my case? Why couldn’t you just lie to me—”

“Because what I need to tell you is worse.”

series taglist: @angelreyesgirl89 @holl2712 @relaxing-najee @thedeviltohisangel @awkwardtayler @siempremamita @amorestevens @witching-hour @seize-the-droid @rosieposie0624 @sesamepancakes @est1887 @queenbeered @ticosas @blessedboo @helli4nthus @katjusja @melanicia @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @moneteguiza

mayans taglist: @lilacyennefer @pedropcl @holl2712 @rae-gar-targaryen @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @henrycavill19 @silverstarsandsuns @chellybear98 @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @noz4a2 @wiccanmetallicrose @crxssourbones @kimljn @starrynite7114 @richonne4life @themarkblues @mariaxliliana @thelovelyleo23 @hail-horror-queen @gemini0410 @binooo98 @the-jer-bear @abbiesthings @losolvidad0s @helli4nthus @babaohhhriley @futureleo1678 @whatupitshuff @trhett21 @trulysuccubus @minnicelli @sillygoose6969 @capnsaveahoe @leahnicole1219 @crashbarbie @cyka1312 @zoovent @lakamaa12 @keithseabrook27 @vir-tually @awkwardtayler @rawrlittlepanda-95 @irenne-stans @pearlkitten33 @ezs-baby-angels-whore @sesamepancakes @toni9 @vannabanana1995 @queenbeered @shawty-fenty @kaystacks17 @thesandbeneathmytoes @anactualcaseofthetruth @star017 @cant-decide-at-this-moment @cocotheclown @watsonwise @ilovebey2018 @oscars-wifeyyy @rosieposie0624 @jennisdirtyimagines @ughdontbeboring @jjwriter23 @briskywalker @peoniarose @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @partypoison00 @making-starsdance @claytoncardenasbabymama @myakai13

#lost one of tommy's scenes and retyped it off memory #so hopefully it's good lol #but let me know what you think?#angel reyes imagine #angel reyes x black!reader #angel reyes x reader #lover of mine

201 notes · View notes

boldlyvoid · 3 years ago

Text

Amoreena | Chapter Nine

chapter nine

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: date night!! this is very fluffy, very emotional and extremely horny. edgar allan poe is rolling in his grave at what they did in his enchanted garden

exhibitionism, public sex (no ones there tho), drug mentions at the end (let me know if I should tag anything else!!!!)

word count: 5.4k

from the beginning <3

He spent all of Thursday afternoon with Penelope in Richmond, setting up for his date that night.

Stringing lights on the trees, mowing the grass and trimming the flowers back, the staff ensuring that the museum was in pristine condition for them tonight, it was perfect. The cats were brushed, there were rose petals the fountain and the most beautiful picnic set up in the garden.

Penelope packed their dinner for them, keeping it in the museum fridge for when they finally arrived, it was the only thing Spencer needed to remember.

Y/N: just got home, about to get ready! Can’t wait to see you at 6 ♥︎

Spencer smiled at his phone, about to text her back when Penelope laid a hand on his back, “change into your suit and head back to her, traffic might be bad?”

“Thank you, for everything. You’ve always been my best friend, more of big sister actually,” Spencer pressed his lips together tightly as to not get emotional. “You’re wonderful Penelope, thank you.”

“Awe!” She swooned, wrapping him up in a big hug. “I will always love you, Spencer, you deserve all of this and so, so much more, now go before I cry.”

He laughed, pulling back, hand lingering on her shoulder as he walked into the museum. They let him change in the backroom, it felt incredibly strange to be putting on a suit inside Edgar Allan Poe's house to go pick up his wife. Not too long ago he dreamed about bringing a girlfriend here someday, life was moving too quickly, he needed a breather.

He kept his suit jacket folded and on the passenger seat as he drove home, where he lived with his family. Even just thinking that as he paid attention to the road made him smile. The wind hitting his face, his hair blowing in the breeze, he felt free at last.

He was where he was supposed to be, all roads lead to here.

Travelling up her driveway with a smile on his face as the dust followed him to her doorstep. She was waiting in a red dress on the porch, Amoreena and her nanny eating pizza on the steps as they waited for him.

Stepping out of his car, he straightened his tie and pulled his pants up more, looking at his wife like she was a star plucked from the sky, landing in this Virginia field for him.

She stood then, her satin dress flowing and exposing a leg as she walked down the steps to him, “Is this what you wanted?” She twirled in front of him to show it all off, her hair getting stuck in her lipstick and making her laugh.

“I love you,” is all he can say as she leaning in with a wide grin, surpassing the smile to kiss him gently, using her thumb to get all the lipstick off his bottom lip and chin.

“Love you too, cutie,” she winked, taking his hand and turning back towards Amoreena, “listen to Nanny, remember we love you and we will see you no earlier than 7:30 tomorrow, okay?”

“Yes ma’am!” She saluted, mouth full of pizza.

“And what are the new rules about coming into our bed in the morning?”

“Knock first, wait till you respond, don’t come in unless you say it’s okay,” Amoreena replied, sticking her tongue out at her as she remembered it all.

“Smartie pants,” Y/N smiled at her, “come give us a hug, don’t get pizza on my dress, please.”

Amoreena wiped her sleeve over her mouth before running into her mother's open arms, they shared goodbye kisses before it was Spencer’s turn. She held him so tight it felt wonderful, “goodnight Lovey, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, have the best sleep ever for me?”

“I’ll see you in dreamland,” she replied, kissing his cheek gently before she pulled back.

“Have fun!” Nanny called from the porch as Amoreena skipped back to her.

“We will,” Spencer replied, taking Y/N’s hand and leading her to the passenger side, he opened her door and helped her inside, insuring her dress was inside before closing the door.

Jogging back to his door, he got in and put on his seatbelt. He threw the car in reverse and turned around by the barn, heading down the driveway, not saying a single thing as Y/N stared at him.

“You’re really not going to tell me anything?” She shook her head, licking her lip before biting it as she huffed.

“We’re going to Richmond, Virginia, to read,” he gave her one hint.

“Hmm,” she smiled, “I’m sure you won't tell me the title, so Mr. I can remember every book ever, what’s a random line in it?”

“You’re smart,” he teased her, “but for the brilliant green of the huge leaves that spread from their summits in long, tremulous lines, dallying with the Zephyrs—”

“We’re going to the Edgar Allan Poe Museum!” She cut him off with a cheer.

He slows down on the barren dirt road, mouth wide open as she got it right, he turns to her as they come to a complete stop, “how the heck did you get that?”

“Yes!” she laughed, tossing her head back as she clapped and kicked her feet a little, so proud of herself, “I’m a librarian, Spencer! Did you think I wouldn’t know Eleonora?”

“That’s the most random sentence in the whole poem?” Spencer was shocked, she recalled it faster than he thought he would be able to if she read a line to him.

“My brother’s first motorcycle was a Zephyr,” she smiled at him, raising her eyebrows. “My brain is kinda like a filing cabinet, if you give me a word I can remember everything I’ve ever heard with that word included.”

He started to drive again, shaking his head as he paid attention to the road but still astounded by how amazing she is. “Amoreena gets that from you then, she could have both our eidetic memories together, that would be very interesting to see.”

“Eidetic memory?” She questioned.

“It’s what most people call photographic memory,” Spencer explained. “You can remember everything you hear which is why you and Amoreena are able to recall songs, books and movie facts so fast, while I can read back to you anything I’ve read without having to see it again, it’s forever in my mind.”

“So we’re both geniuses, cool,” Y/N smiled at him again, “sorry I ruined your surprise.”

“You just know where we’re going,” he reminded her, laying his hand on hers, interlocking their fingers as he drove.

They had an hour alone before the real date started.

So she showed him all of her favourite songs, including some of Amoreena’s playlists so he could get familiar with them before their trip to Rhode Island. Her voice was impeccable, she knew all the words and harmonies, often opting to cove background voices he wouldn’t have even known were there if it wasn’t for her.

She loved music in a way that intrigued him, she enjoyed music with a story. Much like the reason she loved books so much, she enjoyed picturing the happy places in her mind that the songs were able to take her to, they filled her with glee and hope as she sang to her heart's content. Taking short breaks to explain the meanings of songs, to recite the best lyrics and why the songs are close to her heart.

“Do you want to hear the song that reminds me the most of you?” She asked between songs, pausing so that nothing else would start.

“Sure,” he blushed, nervous for what it could be and how she imagined him in her mind, hoping he could live up to it.

“I'm perfectly fine I live on my own, I made up on my mind, I'm better off bein' alone. We met a few weeks ago, now you try on callin' me, baby, like tryin' on clothes,”

She stares at him with a beautiful smile as she waits to see his reaction to the opening, finally singing when the beat drops, dancing softly in her seat as she belted the words out to him.

“So prove to me I'm your American Queen, and you move to me like I'm a Motown beat, and we rule the kingdom inside my room,” She brushed her hand across his jaw, teasing him as the words flow from her lips to his ears, she loves him and he can feel it with every syllable.

“And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for, King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa! And all at once, you are all I want, I'll never let you go King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa,” she sings so softly, with a purpose, turning it down a little so that he can talk to her.

“I love you,” he reminded her, “so much it hurts sometimes.”

“It’s like your heartstrings are tugging on each other, right?” She agreed, “like they want to jump out of our chests and run to each other.”

He nodded with a soft smile, reaching for her hand again holding it as he brought it to his mouth for a kiss, “queen of my heart.”

“Hmmm,” she thought over his words, “I’m pretty content with being princess still, Lady Amoreena is in line for the thrown, it’s part of her namesake after all.”

“Does the kingdom have a name?”

“You know the Elton John song Goodbye Yellow Brick Road?” She waited for his nod, “my grandma called it Ozellous so it’s like wizard of Oz but I added the 'ellous' because people always said they were jealous of our farm.”

He’s trying his best to keep his eyes on the road when all he want’s to do is look at her smile, to see her pupil change as she recalls the loving memory, it’s his favourite thing to do. Better than any movie or play, seeing her face was better than looking at the most expensive art piece. He was so in love with all of her.

“Were you like Amoreena as a kid?”

“Oh yeah,” she laughed, “bullied hardcore for it too, kids always told me to shut up cause I’d add facts to conversations I wasn’t a part of.”

“I would have loved to listen,” Spencer replied softly, knowing the feeling all too well.

They were only a few minutes away now, turning into the small town and passing quaint little homes and cottages. “Amoreena would love this drive, these are some interesting townspeople homes for her imagination, we should come back sometime this summer.”

His heart was going to actually explode, she was everything he never knew he needed.

“I’d love that,” he added as they pulled into the museum. “I’m a museum member and I’m a patron, so sometimes I donate rare pieces I find, they love me here.”

Her mouth opened to speak, but her eyes got caught on the twinkling lights in the distance, mesmerized by everything. Old cobblestone streets, brick buildings and wooden gates, it was straight out of the 1800s and absolutely fantastical.

“And it’s all ours for the night,” he put the car in park and turned to her, “wait here?”

She nodded, speechless as she continued to look out the window at everything. Spencer got out of the car, opening the back seat to grab and put on his jacket, straighten out his suit before opening her door and extending a hand to help her out.

“Princess,” he extended his arm for her to tuck her own under, he closed her door and escorted her through the gate and towards the garden.

The sun was just starting to set, 7 pm in early June being the most beautiful time of year in rural Virginia, the sky was a perfect purple as he leads her through the stone arches towards the picnic.

Her eyes sparkled with all the lights, wide and pupils blown as she took it all in. It was a fairytale, she was in a princess dress, he was the king of her heart and this was just the beginning of happily ever after.

“Spencer, whatever your middle name is, Reid,” she gasped, swatting his arm lightly with a smile growing on her face.

“It’s Walter,” he smiled right back.

He let go of her hand then and walked over to a table, turning on the record player and dropping the needle in the right spot. He did his research into some Taylor Swift songs, finding one that reminded him the most of Y/N and how much he loved her.

“May I have this dance?” He asks as she notices the all too familiar guitar strumming.

He reaches a hand out for her, pulling her in as she takes it, “I was so so lost before I found you in the park,” he explains the first verse, barely a whisper beside her ear as they start to sway.

There I was again tonight forcing laughter, faking smiles Same old tired, lonely place Walls of insincerity Shifting eyes and vacancy, vanished when I saw your face

“All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you,” he whispers once more, feeling the goosebumps bursting on her bare arms.

He spun her around, extending both their arms as she twirled out and then back into his embrace again with a giggle. She swayed back and forth, dancing with him like the night they got married in her field.

Your eyes whispered "have we met?" Across the room your silhouette starts to make it's way to me The playful conversation starts Counter all your quick remarks, like passing notes in secrecy

“And it was enchanting to meet you, All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you,” he sings them this time, spinning her out again as the chorus hits, her eyes widening as she began to smile wider than he’s ever seen before.

They sang the words together as they danced, smiling and laughing as they moved around the cobblestone. Finding a rhythm so perfect, so them, it was silly and not on beat in the slightest, mostly spinning, it was a spinning song if the album cover was any indication.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you!

“The lingering question kept me up, Two a.m., who do you love? I wonder till I'm wide awake! Now I'm pacing back and forth, wishing you were at my door, I'd open up and you would say, hey! It was enchanting to meet you, all I know is I was enchanted to meet you,” Y/N’s voice softer than ever as she sang her anxieties into his ear, remembering the day at the museum where she wondered if she could have him all to herself.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew This night is flawless, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you

Spinning around in circles she leaves his grasp, dress circling in the wind and he watches her. She takes both his hands and spins around with him in a tight circle before pulling back in, their chests bumping as they laughed, happier than he’s ever been in his entire life, and she’s made him pretty happy in the last few weeks.

The girl of his dreams, dancing around him with a smile like she was making her own music video. This was a dream of hers he didn’t know, making it come true as it became a dream of his own.

He places his hands on her cheeks as he stares into her eyes, “this is me praying that this was the very first page, not where the storyline ends. My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again. These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon, I was enchanted to meet you,” he whisper’s the words, barely singing, more talking.

“Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you. Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you,” she sings right back to him, staring into his eyes as they stand still in the garden.

She pulls him into a kiss, breathing in deeply through her nose as they hold each other’s cheeks, unable to get closer as they kissed. Pulling away with a loud smooch sound, smiling before taking her hands in his, once more.

Spinning her around again as the beat drops once more, her smile more beautiful than the first time he saw it. He was so madly in love, he firmly believed he was in heaven.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew!!

This night is flawless, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you!

Please don't be in love with someone else Please don't have somebody waiting on you

“Now go stand in the corner and think about what you did,” Taylor Swift's voice cuts into the beautiful moment as her songs change and the mood drastically changes.

Y/N bursts out in laughter, jumping lightly as she enjoyed the song, head-banging along as she danced by herself until Spencer turned the music off once again, “you’re so cute.”

“Thank you,” she bowed, “this is cute!”

“There’s a picnic basket in the fridge inside, and some wine if you think that’s a good idea?” Pointing towards the main house, she followed him towards the door.

“Oh, hello?” Her voice changed as she noticed the two black cats on the window, letting Spencer head inside for the basket as she talked to them.

“That’s Edgar and Pluto, the groundskeeper found them in the shed in 2012,” Spencer explains as he comes back out, basket in hand but she’s too busy with the cats to notice.

Petting both their faces, they stretch into her reach and bask in the feeling of her nails on their skin, Spencer would agree it felt nice. He loved the feeling of her hands in his hair, he must have been a cat in his last life.

“Amoreena wants her own indoor cat,” Y/N smiled wide at him, “she always wanted to call him Hercules like the Elton John song, almost like she knew you were her dad all along.”

She took his free hand then, following him towards the blanket in the grass, “how?”

“There’s a line in the song about Greek gods, but it says Hercules on her side and Diana in her eyes, and she does have your mom's eyes, right down to the colour of her iris,” Y/N looked at him like he was everything to her.

Spencer couldn’t speak, he just set the basket on the ground and ushered her to sit down beside him. She held the skirt of her dress up so she could sit crisscross applesauce on the blanket, draping her dress over her legs so she didn’t show anything off just yet.

“Every time I look at you I understand all her quirks and her facial expressions,” she added like she was trying to make him cry, “I’ve been looking at her for almost 8 years now, wondering who you were and now I know, and you’re so much better than I ever imagined.”

“Would you have looked for me when she turned 18?” Is all he can ask through his sniffles, trying to hold it together for her.

She nodded, “I was going to tell her soon anyway, she asks a lot of questions I’m not sure if you noticed.” Her giggle was priceless, “she had lots of questions when the goats were born this year and that meant her asking more about making human babies and I just said a special man helped me make my dreams come true, and she thought it was Rumpelstiltskin.”

Spencer couldn’t fight the laugh that erupted from him, leaning forward as he chuckled, making her laugh too. “Does she even know the whole story?”

“She’s only seen the 4th Shrek movie with him, she has no idea that he also takes the babies,” Y/N placed her hand on his knee gently, “If I get pregnant again, I’m going to tell her about how it all works as simply as possible, I want her to feel included in this and she’ll be less jealous if she sees this as a learning opportunity.”

“That’s a good idea,” he agreed, “I still can't believe she almost punched Michael for hugging me.”

“Oh, I can,” Y/N laughed again, “she was being bullied last year by an older kid and I said if someone upsets you or hurts you, sometimes it’s not that bad to hurt them back. Make them know you’re not weak and you care about yourself, and she gave a kid a black eye for tugging on her braid.”

Spencer couldn’t stop smiling, “that’s my girl.”

Y/N opened the picnic basket then, taking everything out with a smile as Spencer stared at her, thinking a million different thoughts about future kids, how Amoreena would grow up, seeing her as a big sister to hopefully many.

They both leaned forward and kissed softly, smiling as they pulled back, “so you like charcuterie?”

She laughed, “Amoreena called it shark coochie once, I can’t not think of that now.”

“How many kids do you want?”

“Have you ever read cheaper by the dozen?” She teased him. “As many as I can have, I have the funds thanks to my job and the farm and not having to pay a mortgage, I was going to have another baby next year anyway, I had an appointment and everything scheduled, I even tried to get them to contact Amoreena’s father for another sample but they said they couldn’t ask you outright for me.”

“They asked me if I wanted to give another sample when I asked if I could know my kids,” Spencer remembered the words exactly, “she said ‘You have four offspring so far, none of the other samples used have produced a child, the women were all IVF as well so it wasn’t your swimmer's fault if you wanted to donate again.’”

“I don’t want to know the truth, are you okay if we let her decide if she wants to find out at 18?” Y/N asked softly, “I’m content thinking you’re her father, I don’t want to know if it’s some other tall who-lookin’ genius, okay?”

“That’s perfect actually,” Spencer agreed, “and on the kids front, you don’t mind me being in my 70s when they all start going to University?”

“My dad is 68 with no signs of stopping, and he’s still fantastic with his grandkids,” Y/N always had a fact to combat his anxiety. “You have a lot of life left in you, I’ll take good care of you so that they have the best dad ever for as long as possible.”

Spencer was so in love with his family he felt like he was floating, laughing and smiling all meal long as they shared facts back and forth about their lives. Getting to know each other more and more as the seconds passed, he imagined it would be like this forever. She was like a bottomless pit of information, facts, stories and secrets. He loved every single one she shared with him.

She poured herself a second small glass of wine, “you know they say that one glass of wine every once in a while is actually good for the baby?”

“It doesn’t work that fast,” he reminded her, more like he reminded himself. He didn’t want to hope in the chance it didn’t happen right away.

“I had a nightmare last night for the first time in a long time, so I think it worked,” she teased him. “I won't know till June 10th, that's when my next period would be.”

“Nightmare?” It was the only part he picked up on, worried for her and wondering why she didn’t wake him up.

She nodded softly, “I found out I was pregnant and you never came home, and I got lost in the forest looking for you and then I remembered I could wake up.”

He rests his hand on her knee, rubbing his thumb against her bare skin softly, “I’m always coming home to you.”

“I know, when I got pregnant with Amoreena I had bad dreams in the first few weeks too, mostly about giving birth to nothing and being alone all over again, the subconscious and pregnancy hormones are mean as fuck when they hang out,” she laughed away the pain, “I know none of it is real.”

“Good,” he whispered, not knowing what really to say, he wasn’t used to soothing other people yet. Most people didn’t want his facts or concernment when something happened, just a hug normally.

She took a deep breath, pushing everything away, “good news, either my anxiety disorder is back in full swing or something’s working in here,” she laid her hand over her stomach, “either way, I’d like to try again tonight?”

He laughed, “we don’t need to make a baby every time you want to have sex?”

She got onto her knees then, crawling over the blanket and sitting right in Spencer's lap with her hands on both of his cheeks, “I want all your babies.”

He held her waist, pulling her in closer to his chest, “right now?”

She nodded, moving her dress out of the way to undo his belt, “no one is here right? It’s not like anyone would know?”

“Mhmm,” he agreed, kissing her neck as she unzipped his pants, moving his underwear out of the way just enough to free his hardening cock, she stroked it right there in the middle of the garden, staring down between their bodies in awe as he came to life.

Sitting up on her knees more, the slit of her dress made it a lot easier for her to show him her underwear. She was wearing just a thong, perfect for pulling to the side as she lowered herself onto him, ever so slowly.

She fixed her dress around them, completely calm and composed as he was fully inside of her, “you’re okay with this?”

He huffed a laugh out of his nose, dropping his forehead to her shoulder so he couldn’t buck into her and ruin the moment she was making, his hands moving to her hips, guiding her back and off him slightly before back down again, making her gasp.

“I thought you wanted to read?” She teased him as she started to ride him more, moving her hips in a way that took him in and out of her at just the right angle, her hands on his shoulders as she bounced on him lightly, he couldn’t even think straight. “Go on, read to me.”

He took a second to remember the words, mind totally somewhere else and not interested in a book at all when her boobs were right in his face.

“I am come of a race noted for vigor of fancy and ardor of passion,” the first sentence slipped past his lips as she kept going, he took a moment to kiss right under her ear before continuing.

“Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence—whether much that is glorious—whether all that is profound—does not spring from disease of thought—from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general intellect.”

“Shit,” she moaned, pushing his hand down towards her clit, “you can multitask, smartie pants.”

His thumb was on a mission then, rubbing small circles against her pleasure point, she tossed her head back with her eyes closed as she continued to ride him, “I don’t hear you reading?”

He moaned softly in her ear at the feeling, and the fact she wanted to get off to hearing him recite something from memory, it was more euphoric than he could have ever imagined.

“They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night. In their gray visions they obtain glimpses of eternity, and thrill, in ah- awakening, fuck,” he was trying his best to stay as composed as she was when he really just wanted to lay her against the blanket and fuck her into next week.

“to find that they have been upon the verge of the great secret,” Y/N whispered the end of the sentence, grinding down on him harder than before.

“In snatches, they learn something of the wisdom which is of good,” she whispered into his ear, biting his earlobe softly with a moan and he kept rubbing her clit, “you’re so good, Spencer, so so good," she paused to enjoy the moment before whispering in his ear once more, "And more of the mere knowledge which is of evil. They penetrate, however, rudderless or compass-less into the vast ocean of the "light ineffable," and again, like the adventures of the Nubian geographer, "agressi sunt mare tenebrarum, quid in eo esset exploraturi.”

Her words softer than ever and they were never going to get to the end of this poem, he'd never know how the rest of the words sound on her tongue, she pulled him into a kiss then, moaning into his mouth as they ground against each other, finding a perfect rhythm to bring them to the end.

“There, yes, fuck,” she whispered against his lips, pushing against him as she arched her back slightly, slipping away from his mouth as she did so.

He slammed into her then as he chased her lips, making her whimper one last time before she was shaking in his lap, her legs quivering as she finished on him, sending him over the edge and stilling as he came with a shudder. He held her so close, both of them breathing into each other's mouths as they came down, kissing and smiling as they stayed connected.

“We’ll name her Eleonora,” Y/N teased, pulling off him and laying back against the blanket.

He made sure her underwear was back in the right spot before covering her with her dress again and sliding himself back into his underwear.

“Amoreena and Eleonora have a good ring to it, we just need 10 more names,” he teased right back.

“Hopefully we have a little boy one day too,” she smiled as she tugged him down beside her, cuddling into her side as they stared up at the newly dark blue sky and the array of stars that decided to join them this evening.

“Even if it’s just Amoreena, I’ve never been happier in my whole life than when I’m with you,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

“For what?” She asked, purely to keep hearing his voice.

“Making me want to get up in the morning again, giving me a reason not to buy drugs for something euphoric to happen to me, showing me real love and proof that happiness is possible if you just chose to be happy,” he gave example after example.

“I thought I learned everything the world had to offer, but you’ve been showing me new little life hacks that make the world so much better, I see a future of bright colours and happiness and laughter for the first time ever, so thank you.”

She held him closer, “it’s been a pleasure falling in love with you, together, you deserve to love yourself. You’re so wonderful Spencer, it breaks my heart to know that anyone has ever made you feel the opposite.”

He couldn’t speak anymore, turning to kiss her neck and cheek so he had something to do that wasn’t crying. He loved her so incredibly deeply that he felt like he was an anchor, dropping to the bottom of her deepest ocean, without a single plan to leave.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #amoreena

143 notes · View notes

doopy-n-loopy · 4 years ago

Text

Yan!Yamato/tenzou x reader

Okay soooo I've been into yanderes recently and lemme tell ya... THERE IS ALMOST NO YAMATO CONTENT LIKE CMOOOOOOOOON 😩

So, for all my Yamato lovers here's some spicy content for you ;) enjoy

Before you proceed any further, I'd like to state that these scenarios are PURELY FICTIONAL and I don't condone this behavior in real life. If you or someone you know is being stalked by another person please get somewhere safe and call the police.

// obsessive tendancies, mention of kidnapping

Alright lets get into it but first some backstory >:)

You were placed on team 7 once as a filler for Sakura since she was away on a mission. Throughout the week, Yamato has become more and more... Obsessive over you. You thought he was just being protective as your leader since you're the only medical nin, but this behavior continued long after Sakura came back to take her place again.

[SFW]

Yamato saw you for the first time and immediately butterflies began forming in his stomach. Him being as professional as he is, he chose to ignore it. But these feelings grew and grew as time passed.

Yamato would often steal secret glances at you and find himself creepily staring at you with that gaze he has (woah Yamato calm down)

Yamato HATES seeing you talk to other guys. He sees them as threats to your (non-existent) relationship with him

To add onto my last bullet point, Yamato quietly huffs and turns away from you and the other guy when he sees you two talking, he attempts to make it not seem at all obvious he's upset. But from the way his grip on his clothes tighten when he folds his arms, he can't stand it.

Even worse if the guys flirts with you or makes you laugh, he loves hearing you laugh but only when it's because of him.

If this guy is a random shinobi or citizen, he'll stalk them and dispose of them as quickly as possible. However if it's someone like Naruto, he'll try to ignore it or get in between you two to seperate him from you.

Yamato sometimes leaves little wooden gifts for you (ex. A wooden dog/cat, some bowls, chopsticks, etc)

Yamato either leaves them with you secretly like stuffs them in your bag or finds an excuse to give them to you.

Yamato tries seperating you from everyone else so he can have you to himself on a mission, he uses the fact that you're a medic as an excuse for being with him

Sometimes he'll allow himself to get hit just so you can get close to him and heal him

He loves seeing the worried look on your face when it comes to him.

He steals some of your stuff and has an entire shrine dedicated to you

The things he steals ranges from used toothbrushes to dirty clothing

He'd stalk you after you left team 7, he found out your daily routine and where you live. He also found out who you knew

People from your life slowly started going missing... Wonder why that might be

Yamato also watches you sleep and brushes his hand against your cheek, up to you to figure out which one I'm talking about ;)

You slowly became aware of what was happening and was on guard, one night when you were walking home alone instead of with a friend you usually walk with (cause they went missing) you got hit in the back of the head and knocked out

You woke up in a basement in a wooden cell, the cell bars was made nicely for being a cell. Like it was hand carved, each of the bars had different designs

Your cell was surpisingly nice inside, a comfy bed, a table for food and water, a bookshelf surprisingly all with books that you like or have wanted to read

Yamato always checks up on you and enters your cell, he cuddles with you and plays with your hair

Oh he also sniffs your hair and you

He isn't necessarily violent other than with the hickeys, if you irritate him hell bound you up using his wood style and leave you there for an hour or two to calm down

He sometimes sleeps in your cell with you, he's a quiet sleeper and a great hugger

He makes sure you're mostly happy

He compliments you

[NSFW]

The first time you healed Yamato, he got hard when you touched him. He uses that memory to masturbate

Once you were messed up by the enemy pretty badly and your clothes started ripping, when Yamato came to your aid he could barely control himself

Yamato sometimes breaks into your home and steals your used underwear

He likes giving you various hickeys and marks as well as making you bleed. He forces you to sit on his lap while he does this

If you scream or fight back, he won't mind and treat you like you're teasing, he does get annoying after awhile though

He's surprisingly gentle with you, he makes sure he doesn't unnecessarily hurt you, only when you or him wants it

He never forces you into sex however and will wait for your consent. And eventually you might want it

If you ever cry, he'll feel bad. But if you're having sex with him and cry because of some pain, he'll lick your tears away

If you ever 'need' him but he has a mission to do, he'll make a toy for you

Honestly I'm out of ideas, any requests are welcome tho

Omg this gif is so cute wtfffff

#yandere naruto #yandere naruto x reader #yandere #yandere tenzou #yandere yamato #yamato #tenzou #my hcs

119 notes · View notes

imagineabrighterworld · 4 years ago

Text

Nothin’ On You // Sero x Shy!Reader

A/N: Kinda long! But I owe Sero for taking so long on finishing this! Hope you like it! ^^

The first time you meet is for a school project

In middle school he was the cool guy that got along with pretty much everyone. At first you would hide away, which was easy with a quirk like yours. You would turn translucent and mute according to your mood, so every time you tried to muster up the courage to talk to him when he passed you by in the halls, you would completely disappear. It was a game of chance to see who was paired with who when the fated project came up, but when you were paired with Sero you almost entirely disappeared off of the face of the earth. You begin to wonder if you could escape class without being noticed when he makes his way over and plops down in the seat next to you.

"Name's Hanta Sero, what's yours?"

Your face flushes, body turning translucent for a split second before you take his hand and shake it. "It's..." Your voice fails you. Of course it had to happen now. Your quirk just had to be a two-in-one kind of deal.

Lifting a finger, you scribble your name down on a loose piece of paper and offer it to him.

He looks at the scrap of paper with curiosity. “Cute name.” He looks back to you. “Is that your quirk? The..?” He motions to his body and mouth.

You nod sagely.

He beams. "Nice to meet you."

The tension in your shoulders lessen. Grabbing your textbook and one of your notebooks made for this type of situation, you write down several questions before pointing to the textbook pages.

He reads each message, surprisingly more patient with your quirk than others. Some expected you to push past it or get over your shyness, but he went with it. It made you feel.. valid. Like your quirk wasn't a burden.

“Sounds like we'll be having a few all nighters on this one, Mr. Takeshi expects waaay too much of us if he wants this done in a week.” Sero looks at you curiously. “What do you think? We could do it at one of those 24/7 cafes nearby.”

Feeling yourself relaxing, you realize you've returned to being opaque as you nod in agreement. "Sounds like a plan."

His smile brightens. "Hey, your voice is pretty cute too chica!"

This time you're glad you disappear from sight, hands covering your mouth as he laughs heartily.

The project was an odd success

After your initial shock and shyness of being paired up with Sero, you both were a rather successful couple when it came to academics. You split the work equally and helped each other when either of you needed it. While he wasn't always the brightest, he always managed to put a smile on your face when you were studying long into the night, when your eyelids grew too heavy and your will to study lessened. When the day of the presentation came and you both took to the front of the class, it was his support that kept you from disappearing out of fright. However, now that it was over, you were surprised he still wanted to hang out with you, even if it wasn't required anymore.

“Oi, chiquita bonita! Over here!” Sero waves to you from across the classroom. He was sitting in his normal spot with his usual clique, and normally you didn't mix with them. They seemed nice, but it was always awkward when you joined him. You felt like they only tolerated you because of him.

Gathering your items, you shuffle out of your desk space and join him, blushing slightly as he scoots his seat to the side to make space for you right next to him. You could feel the burning stares of the girls surrounding him. You held on though, focusing on staying opaque, knowing he would try getting to the bottom of why you were nervous. Oh if only he knew how hated you were by his clique of girls.

“We did pretty good on the presentation didn't we?” He asks while draping an arm across the back of your chair, his body completely at ease. “Even the cabrón was impressed.”

You smack him lightly on the back of his head. You didn't know a lot of spanish, if at all, but you picked up some slang from the boy next to you. “Don't be mean Hanta, he's not all that bad.”

The girls’ hiss at your action, but Sero only laughs and tugs you closer under his arm. “Lo siento cariño. I'm sorry, but it's not my fault he has a stick up there.” He gestures upward with his middle finger.

You knew if you tried speaking, your voice would have fizzled out like a drop of water on a hot stove.

After the project you two were nearly inseparable, everyone knew you and Sero were an item (even if you both didn't see it)

“Dios mio! What did we do to earn this princesa?”

You turn around to the source of the voice, pausing on decorating the stage of the auditorium. It was Sero, you could tell immediately by his voice, but what you didn't understand was the context of his words. What was he talking about?

The confusion must have shown on your face as he moves closer and climbs onto the stage, walking up to you until he was by your side. “You're all dolled up. What's the occasion?” He holds you by the shoulders and peers behind you as well, earning a pinch on his cheek.

“It's the dance this week, remember? But the play is before, so we have to set up so it's all ready for the night. That means dress rehearsals too.” You were a part of the theatre group, an odd choice for someone who disappears when they get stage fright, but you were heavily invested in what you did. It was a passion you indulged.

“Aye, yeah I forgot about that.” Sero rubs his neck and looks at the ground, deep in thought. At least for two minutes. After the two minutes he peeks at you with a mischievous grin. ”Wanna go to the dance with me?”

To your credit, you manage to stay opaque while your heart beats wildly in its cage. “Thats a dumb way of asking me out.” You mutter while sliding down from the stage, nearly cutting yourself on one of the loose planks.

“¡Cuidado!” He holds his arms out, ready to help you down. “I don't want my date to get hurt you know?”

“I can still dance in a cast.” You brush off his concern with a rare smile. Crushes aside, you appreciated his friendship and concern.

“The fuck is this, Romeo and Juliet? Get a room!” A classmate yells from the lighting stage, laughing when you flip them the bird.

Sero joins in the laughter, leaving soon after apologizing to your classmate. Said classmate meets you in front of the stage, arms crossed and looking back and forth between you and the now closed auditorium door.

“So are you guys dating now?”

“No, we're just friends.” You rub your neck, feeling the translucency crawl up your neck. But it couldn't wipe away the smile on your face.

You gravitate towards each other

Stretching your arms in front of you, you twist your body to the right and sigh as you feel a pop. You didn't particularly like gym class but it was nice to get a good stretch.

Looking around at the field in front of you, you wave at the occasional friendly face. You had friends in this class, which made it even more bearable.

"Hola princesa!"

Sero?

Turning around you grin at the familiar face. You run to the fence blocking you in, gripping it as you watch your friend run to you. He holds your hand through the fence, a normal occurance and a habit you've grown fond of.

"What are you doing here?" You question while turning your hand in order to squeeze his, heart fluttering when you see the small tinge of pink on his cheeks.

"Just here to say hi. My next class is in E block." He peers over your shoulder. You were about the same height, somewhere around 5'4, so you relished being able to see him eye to eye (mostly) while it lasted. He grew a bit over the break of your first year. "Playing anything?"

"Volleyball." You shiver. "I'm team captain, but I suck at it." Who would you pick? Would you actually be a good leader? You feel your voice leave you as you begin to rival that of an onion skin, growing more and more invisible.

A small pinch on the back of your hand pulls you back to reality. Sero waggles a finger, tisking at you. "Don't sweat it, you'll do great." He squeezes your hand before backing up, walking backwards as he heads to class. "Just breathe princesa!"

"Got it." You whisper to yourself, waving to him as you watch him enter the building across from you.

Sadly by the end of your second year, he had grown taller, leaving you craning your neck to look at him.

When he entered U.A. you still cheered him on

Graduating middle school was tough when you split off into different schools. You knew you would keep in contact, but it was so much harder to spend time together when you didnt attend the same schools. Still, with each video chat and phone call, with each text, you showered him with all your love and support. He wanted to be a hero, and you were happy to support him with that dream!

You: Saw you on the tv, you were amazing!

Sero: thanks 😙 still lost tho 😅😅😁😁

You: Yeaaah🤔 but you still looked really cool! Still, didn't realize you were strong enough to pull that Todoroki guy that way 🧐

Sero: Im just full of surprises princesa 😘

Sero mentioned you often to his friends

You were mentioned in at least one conversation a day, it didn't matter the context, you just sort of popped up. What could he say, he loved you! You were his go to for support and someone he truly valued. Plus you weren't crazy like his classmates.

“You keep talking about her but we've never actually seen her.” Mina leans forward on her palm as she sips at her milk tea. “You're not lying about her are you?” She wiggles her eyebrows, eliciting a laugh from Sero.

“Course she's real.”

Kirishima lays his head on the table of the booth they were at, looking at Sero with confusion. “Got proof? It’s not manly to lie to your friends bro.” Sure he believed in his friend, but after a year of just hearing about a special girl, it was hard to keep believing without some form of proof.

Sero holds up a finger as he pulls out his phone. Placing it flat on the table, he pushes the power button and watches his friends faces light up as they view his lock screen. It was a picture of you.

“Woah! Who's the hot chick?” Kaminari asks excitedly as he returns from the bathroom. “Is she single?”

Sero powers off his phone before smacking a piece of tape on his friend’s mouth, surprisingly feeling a twinge of anger at his words. You were his best friend! He had to protect you!

On the inside he knew his anger was from deeper feelings, but for now it was just from the fact that he may need to defend your innocence from his own schoolmate. You were so shy, he knew Kaminari’s flirting would be too much for you.

“Yeah, no cabrón. She's taken.”

You were there for his graduation

Needless to say, you were at his graduation! It was difficult to find him amidst the crowds of families wanting to take pictures of their children and siblings, and even some heroes wanting to say their goodbyes! You were absolutely bombarded and neigh invisible after overthinking the whole thing, so when you finally found him you were stunned into invisibility when his friends jumped you.

“Ohmygodohmygodit'sactuallyyouuuuuu!” Mina screams as she pulls you into her, squeezing the life out of you before you can get a breath out.

The boys were much gentler, but just as excited. Especially Kaminari.

“Hey it’s the hot girl- more like the gone girl, what's happening?” He questions as you disappear from sight, your voice completely AWOL.

Sero smacks his face as he curses his friends out. “Chingues! Give my girl some space hijos de perras!”

Mina gives you enough space to breathe but holds you much like one would a hostage. For a hero course student, you believed that she would have done very well as a villain.

“Nope! We get to meet this girl of yours, Tape Boy!” She looks down at you, squinting to try making out where your face would be, unknowingly glaring directly at you. “He talks about you almost nonstop yet you haven't visited us at all, how unfair is that?” Mina grins.

You come into focus, your voice a mere squeak as you brush some hair out of your face. “A little? I should've visited..” You introduce yourself to his cadre, your name stumbling off your lips.

“Hot and shy? What a cutie!” Kaminari hugs you from your available side where Mina wasn't holding you in a headlock.

A whip of tape smacks the blonde and sends him reeling back to Sero who holds him in a similar hold Mina was holding you.

Your friend ruffles Kaminari's hair in a somewhat violent manner, grinning at him with threatening eyes. "Go easy on her cabrón. She's not used to so many people doting on her."

They were doting on you? You tilt your head and look at Mina who was still examining you. "I don't think I deserve to be doted on, that's not what's going on here right?"

"Of course not, but you and I are gonna have some girl time while the boys get us a spot at a restaurant! You're gonna tell us all about how you and Tape Boy here met!" She chirps excitedly, pulling Bakugou in with her free arm as he tries escaping past her.

You feel a drop of sweat as you accept your fate, watching Bakugou attempt to wrangle his way to freedom. "Sure, sounds nice."

Sero made it rather big as a hero, see, he wasn't the strongest hero but he was very popular

He had always been popular, so it made sense to you when his ranking kept going up and up until he was in the high twenties. You knew he was good at what he did, being a source of smiles even in dark times, but it always brightened your day when you heard your coworkers mention him in passing.

“Have you heard about the hero Cellophane yet?”

“Yeah! I think I saw him around yesterday. He was eating soba with Shoto.”

You look backwards to see the faces of your junior coworkers. They were in a different department than you, but you enjoyed chatting with them every now and then. Mostly when it came to heroes as you had somewhat of an insiders look.

Had you forgotten to mention you were friends with Sero- Cellophane?

You debated whether to tell them over tea one day until you heard their next words.

“He’s kind of hot isn't he?”

... Maybe you would keep the secret to yourself.

As a hero he makes time to drop into your life, sometimes randomly

What else was to be said? Really?

A blur flashes by your face, causing you to yelp in shock, stepping back and nearly falling onto the unforgiving pavement. Luckily, said blur created a swing of tape just in time to catch you, pulling you forward and bringing you into his arms.

“Lo siento mi corazón! I didn't mean to make you fall.” Sero grins at you, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. He definitely meant to make you fall, you could see the mischief behind his eyes.

“As if Hanta.” You pinch him on the cheek, a smile coming to your face when he whines. “Look I’m happy to see you but I've got to get to work on time today, no funny business.”

“No funny business?” He repeats after you, rubbing his chin in thought. “Then I guess I’ll have to escort you to make sure you get to work on time.”

Your eyes widen as you feel his hold grow tighter and more secure as he holds you flush against him. Oh no. “Wait Sero-!”

And just like that, you were in the air, swinging from building to building with him propelling you both forward. You attempt to scream at him but your voice is lost along the way as you hear the clicking of cameras.

Oh god they were taking pictures.

“Niña don't worry! We’re almost there!”

Luckily for you, you were never caught on camera. So your quirk did have some uses.

The media was sure he had a partner

The photos really ended up getting him in hot water as every interview he did, the topic of romance was brought up. Fans would notice he would avoid the topic of love, but on his social media he would constantly mention a girl. No one knew who this girl was, but fans and news stations were determined to wring it out of him.

Once the red light of the on-air button was out, the reporter in front of Sero swiftly covers the mic pinned to her lapel and scoots to the edge of her seat. Sero watches in quiet amusement as the whole station becomes silent. Weird. But he knew why they grew quiet so fast. They wanted information, and if even the news anchor waiting for his time to come up stopped his boisterous laughter, it must've been important.

“Off the record. Do you have a secret sweetheart stashed away somewhere Cellophane?”

Oh. This again.

He stretches his arms in front of him as he runs through his normal excuses and dodges for this question. All still viable and working, but.. Maybe he could give a little hint. The media was on his ass about this after those photos were taken of him and his girl, so it was only right to clear the air right?

“Turn on the cameras. I’ll give this to you.”

You were crushed when he admitted he did have a sweetheart (of sorts) and even more so when the media suspected it to be the Stealth Hero: Invisible Girl

The media did end up getting a bit of info out of him and when you heard about this special girl your heart couldn't help but crack under the thought of him distancing himself from you to be with her. You treasured your friendship with him, romantic or not, you didn't want it to end. Because of this fear, you are the one who starts to close yourself off.

“Chiquita, what's wrong?” Sero follows you as you make your way to the kitchen, a bowl of chocolate coated pretzels in your arms. “Are you sick? I can stop by the pharmacy for you.”

“N-No, its okay. I'm not sick..” You back up when you see his arm stretched outward, flinching when the back of his hand meets your forehead.

He hums. “No fever.”

You push past him, abandoning the bowl of chocolatey treats on the counter. You felt yourself becoming frustrated. Not with him, but with yourself. His opinion meant the world to you- he was your best friend! And you were letting this relationship of his get to you. How petty could you be? He did nothing wrong. In fact, you should be happy for him, finally dating his high school sweetheart.

But the thought of him dating Invisible Girl- the irony of him dating an invisible girl- was just too much for your heart to take at the moment.

You had no way to take out this frustration. So it was reflected onto him.

“Cariño-”

“Please!” You slam your hands on the counter, voice fading in and out as you hide your face in the collar of your turtleneck. “Please.. Just go.”

The apartment was quiet, filled with only your ragged breathing as you hold in your rampant emotions. When he leaves with a silent goodbye, you're unsure if the breaking sound surrounding you is just in your head or if something truly reached into you and tore your heart to pieces.

He makes it very clear who that sweetheart is

Finally, he announces just who captured his heart. It was live on a jumbo screen, playing as you were out getting “groceries” for the nights dinner.

The hollow feeling in your chest wasn't easing, and it definitely wasn't made any better when you saw the Stealth Hero on the television next to her team. Though your calves were certainly doing better with how much speed walking you would do when you passed by convenience stores with tabloids lining their windows, photos of Sero and Invisible Girl on the front.

Work went by dreadfully slow, and lunch went by just as uneventfully as usual. You ignored the chatter of your coworkers, uninterested in what they had to say.

After the report came out, no one was talking about the top heroes anymore. They all were focused on the potential lovers and what other secret admiring the heroes had in their ranks. If other heroes were hiding their own affairs. If the popular Cellophane could hide his romance, maybe someone like Deku or Shoto could be too.

“We’re going out for drinks later, want to come with?” Your junior asks as she slings her purse strap over her shoulder. “Jin is paying~”

You respond with a polite smile. “No thanks. I’m going straight home.”

- - -

Going straight home was the plan, but in the end you had to make a quick trip to the nearest grocery store for dinner. Something quick, as you didn't have the energy to make something complicated.

Which meant you ended up buying only instant ramen.

It was on your way back, crossing a busy sector when the sound of your friend on the jumbo screen caught your attention.

“She's my corazón. Mi vida.”

You look up at the screen, stopping in your tracks.

Sero was blushing, a shy smile on his face, but his eyes were lit up with joy. You heart pulses rapidly in your chest, a blush creeping up your cheeks. You had never seen him so flustered, it was always the other way around.

“I’ve loved her since middle school. I never wanted to drag her into this, so I never confirmed her name- but its not Invisible Girl!” He amends quickly, looking at the reporter with a knowing look. He wags his finger, his infamous cocky smile replacing the twitterpated look from earlier.

“Sure, she has a similar quirk, which is how those photos came to be.” He leans back in his chair.

“You want to know her name right? I guess it wouldn't hurt to say. I’ve kept it hidden for so long, but here it is.”

And then he said it.

He said your name.

Looking directly at the screen, he smiles gently, eyes full of the warmth you've been craving ever since you were paired for that project years ago.

“Ella es mi tesoro. She is my treasure.”

Extra:

Racing home, you're not surprised when you find the lights on in your apartment. In fact, it only spurs you forward.

Yanking open the unlocked door, you drop your groceries and launch yourself into Sero’s arms as he held them open for a hug.

He was sweaty from rushing from the news station to your apartment, but neither of you were concerned about it as you laugh. You laugh at the tape still clinging to his clothes, you laugh at the ramen spilling out of your grocery bags, you laugh at your tears.

You laugh at how long it took for you both to finally admit how much you loved each other.

“Mi corazón.” He pulls back from the hug and cups your cheek, looking at you with love softened eyes. “I love you.”

Tears brim your eyes.

You speak in the clearest voice you've ever spoken in. Skin bright and flushed pink.

“I love you too.”

105 notes · View notes

c4-weeb · 4 years ago

Text

Obey me boy head cannons!

Skater!Mc x the demon boys + undateables!

Alright so background! Human mc had invited one of the boys to go to a skating rink with her in the human world, since she is one of the main racers and a very frequent attendee at the place since she was 10. She knows the regular skaters and owners pretty well. Shes held with high respect there and is pretty talented. She has skate races and a whole team of great skaters, so what happens when one day she invites one of the boys to go on a date/ support her during a competitive roller derby? Also please do keep in mind I'm taking inspiration off the monster high roller derby cause that race was pretty cool and difficult to do so make it more modernized and human. You know... no swinging axes or kraken's trying to grab you as you skate. Though in reality that sounds like something Diavolo would put together for devildom roller derby's...

Lucifer

When he heard you beg him to come support you for your first race back in the human world he was a little taken aback. A roller derby? Him? I mean he wasn't going to be the loudest but he did find the thought of watching them succeed and wanting his praise amusing nonetheless....

....in reality he missed the Mc dearly and would appreciate the time with them, but he'd never say so out loud.

When you looked up to him from the stands he smirked at you, the pressure was on... that smirk was the one of judgement and "let's see how you do" which wracked your nerves with enough anxiety that it helped fuel the fire to make sure you succeeded.

When the Mc took off, being shoved by people bigger than her on each side, he was surprised when you fell back and the two idiots collided and she hopped over with ease and sped towards the front with amazing speed.

When The Mc and their team won, she came speeding to him and hugged him from behind and thanked him.

Later he took you out to eat in congratulations, the smile on your face from getting praise and food? All the stress from the day was relieved by that small gesture.

"I dont know why I thought I had finally found out everything I could about you, yet you just keep surprising me...."

Mammon

When the you asked for his support during a casual race at your local skating rink, with just your team mates going against eachother in a regular speed skate with a few obstacles, he wasnt so interested, saying he wants money in return for his support, when in reality he would have went anyways. But when you told him that since it was a casual race, people could bet on the racers, he agreed so fast and even begged to be summoned right then and there.

Expect him to be screaming at the top of his lungs for you to win

Isnt against calling you baby this loud in public

May or may not have tried climbing the fence when you got pushed

Definitely bet on you, and a huge sum of money too. So much faith 😭❤

Once you've won expect him to come flying at you, poor baby forgot you where on skates tho so you'd end up falling backwards to your friends amusement of your cuddly demon.

Tried threatening the owners to do another race so he could get money and failed

Sulked till you dragged him by the hand to skate in the neon lights since most people left it was just you two

Later he would drag you to either go to bet on races with him to gain more money or go to shower you in gifts, really depended on how well you could convince him to not go gambling, which had a 50/50 success rate.

"If I'm not going to get more money I might as well shower you in what I have, make you the prettiest gem for the whole world to see!" "Mammon you only won 200 dollars not a mil-" "sh, sh, shhhhh, shhh, no arguing! The Great Mammon is going to treat his treasure right tonight, ya' hear!?"

Leviathan

Now getting this otaku outta his room was an absolute struggle. So like a cat trapping their preh, you had to summon him to your house and put a blindfold on him for a special surprise.

Dragged his unsocial ass to the car and road down to the skate rink and took off his blind fold once you both got inside.

It took a lot of coaxing, but you finally got him to calm down enough to get a pair of skates.

If your skater friends said hi to him he'd hide by your arm like a scared 5 year old

The jealousy he felt of everyone in the room was unbelievable, because the poor boy has no balance for skating. On wheels or ice, his body just refuses.

You offered to help him learn and the poor boys face was fuming red, thankfully the neon lights and darkness hid it well.

He held onto your hand for balance throughout the whole date, only stopping to eat some pizza and play some arcade games.

After a few hours you headed back to your house to binge some Starwars, wanting to watch something different with him.....which eventually led to the both of you getting bored and going back to the new ruri-chan movie you guys binged countless amount of times on the phone together.

"H-hey! Hold on you're going t-too fast! No now you're so close I-....um... ack everyone can see us...so many people... but its worth it to show that your mine!"

Satan

Now Satan isnt much of a skater, nor a loud supporter, but with enough coaxing you finally got him to at least try and relax with you, doing a nice small couple's night at the skate rink

Really wanted to try human customs with you so there was little resistance

He would hold their hand as you'd skate

Even think of skating away from him and he will chase after you

This man's rage in his bones makes him a natural speed skater

Will tickle you when he catches you, starts a very one sided tickle war tho

If you wanna sit down, it's going to be in his lap, no rejections.

Will find it adorable if your friends make fun of how blushy you're getting as you hide in his chest

"Come now kitten, dont run away or I'm going to tickle you so hard that your face will hurt too much to smile at anyone else but me"

Asmodeus

This sweet baby was already dragging you to your room to glamor you up before the race.

Honey no need to say anything, he will make you the most gorgeous skater just tell him the vibes you wanna give off and he will hit the nail straight on the head and match your aesthetic.

Best expect victory photos.

Will record your victory and show it off to the group chat with the brothers.

Absolutely head over heels for you, hanging off your body in a hug and then going for a really close skate together

Might try to convince you to have some celebratory seggs but will 100% be making it known how much you excited him.

"Sweetheart look at all the likes our photos are getting! Everyone's congratulating you! Awe look at how viral my baby is! That was a VERY thrilling experience watching you, and you do need to take care of that body....shall we take this home and undress you so I can congratulate you the right way~♡?"

Beezlebub

Immediately agreed when you brought it up that you wanted to bring him to the skate rink, someplace you enjoyed going.

He knew skating was like a work out but was worried about finding skates his size there so he brought his own customized skates.

You better have snacks cause baby is gonna be starving.

Thankfully since you also work there and know the owners, you where allowed to hop over and take his order, putting it on your tab. 4 pizzas 2 Turkey legs 7 hotdogs and a pint of water (remember to stay hydrated)

If you bumped into a few of your friends and he WILL get along with them. He wants to be apart of your life, all of it, so he'll make it a point to get along with everyone in it for your sake.

If you ever look like you're going to fall he will be so close behind you it would be like slipping and falling back onto a brick wall who grabs you before you hit the floor.

If you fall forward he will grab your shirt but try not to choke you in the process

(If you do choke poor baby with be hugging you apologizing profusely)

You two try racing eachother but no matter what you dont win cause hes just too fast

Finds you challenging him over and over endearing and adorable.

"You're so adorable when you're chasing after me trying to win, but I'm hungry now...can we go eat again?"

Belphegor

Will complain once you ask him to go skating for date night in the human world

Wont stop till he finds out it has a sunroof along with the neon lights so he can look at the stars while skating with you.

Will only skate for an hour or two then passes out on your lap

Will not help at all when you fall, just laughs cause he is probably the reason you fell in the first place.

When hes skating he will take your hand in his the whole time and sorta lean on your shoulder while skating from behind you.

You two will stop periodically to sit at the small felt covered benches in the rink to look up at the stars (may or may not fall asleep on your shoulder so you're stuck there with him sleeping for 20 minutes)

You will be the last ones out

Must grab some food for Beel cause belphie promised to bring him home food.

Skating (more like you dragging him by the hand while hes in skates)back to your place and looking at the stars together at like 3am

Wont go back till he can officially cuddle you till the morning and leaves at 11am

"Hey look...theres Ursa major...*yawn* come on let's sit down again, I'm tired..."

Luke (only as siblings you take him skating)

Doesnt know how to skate

You end up teaching him and hes the happiest little boy ever.

If you take him to a race he'll be all worried that you got a scratch and starts to get protective over you when the person who pushed you comes near

Definitely eating cotton candy

Playing claw machines and you win him a stuffed piggy and he holds it near and dear to his heart cause it's from you

"Mc! Mc! Look I'm doing it! I'm skating! Sir oinkers and me are skating together! Thank you so much haha!"

Simeon

Happily joins to cheer you on during your races everytime. Got a race? Simeon will be there.

If you dont win he will comfort you and make the best of the situation by taking you to the food bar till it turns to a free skate again.

If you're injured he will pamper you and be ready with his first aid. Little angel kisses on every scrap and bruise.

So many forehead kisses of encouragement and praise 🥺😭

Can speed skate, so if you want to practice he'll help but if you want to relax he'll do that too.

Inlines? Regular skates? No matter what hes great at them.

Somehow he has great luck and every stuffie you showed interest in or every candy or prize there was that you would even look at, he would win on the first try.

"Dont worry! I'll carry it all. You just relax alright? You got pretty bruised from that fall."

Barbatos

Getting this man to stop working and go on a date will need a ton of patience, even Lord Diavolo has to convince him the little d's will do their jobs right while hes away.

Will take care of every scrape and bruise you get.

Man has glowsticks prepared to cheer you on

When it turns back to a free skate he will try his best to impress you and teach you little tricks he's picked up in his many years.

You try to convince him to eat some of the food there and he will politely decline and proceed to take you out to a nice fancy, but quaint restaurant.

"You were really quick to dodge them back there, yet you still got a few bruises, truly amazing for humans to get to that speed and dodge so fast. You're really a fascinating one arent you?"

Lord Diavolo

This man.... he made SIGNS

WILL be hollering when you win

The loudest in the stands

Glowsticks, glowing necklaces, bracelets, man is even wearing a glowing necklace around his head for you, glowing head to toe

So happy and proud 🥺😭❤

Definitely brought barbatos to help hold up the glittery signs him and the little d's made

Barbatos will leave with the signs after congratulating you and leaving you two to your date.

He will be a little off balanced when first skating cause the man went straight for the inlines 😂

Will be smiling the whole time, nothing can or will ruin it.

Absolutely in love with the skate rink because of you and even wants to add a few to the devildom so they can hold tournaments like the one you where in

Can get sad if he cant get you a stuffed animal while you're in the bathroom so he summons Barbatos again to help him while you're away.

Sends Barbatos away so you wont know he helped him get the prizes

Ends up getting you 6 stuffies and a phone case that doesnt fit your phone but it's the thought that counts right?

You win him a medium sized dragon from the claw machine and he sleeps with it every night and loves it like it's your guy's kid.

If he meets your friends he will find out just how much you've missed him as you get embarrassed, makes a mental note to see you once a week after that encounter.

Will eat 2 Turkey legs as you eat a slice of pizza and share a pitcher of soda with him

(He makes a mess of his face so you clean it off for him)

Will not want to leave and go back to the devildom so he'll insist on staying the rest of the night and walks you home

Will. NOT. LEAVEEEE! Master of excuses for why he should stay.

"But I dont want to leave! Theres still so much to do!" "Can I at least see your house?" "I wont leave until I see you're safe at home!" "Please can I stay the night, I miss having you wake up in my arms." "I want to see the morning sun rise with you before I go back"

#obey me #shall we date #leviathan headcanons #lucifer #obey me mammon #satan avatar of wrath #asmo obey me #beelzeebub #belphie headcanons #headcannons #skater #shall we date simeon #luke obey me #lord diavolo #shall we date barbatos

70 notes · View notes