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joemama-2 · 2 months ago

Text

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 10k tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation a/n: merry early christmas guys to those who celebrate 🥹 series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter

Christmas is coming up soon. In about two-ish weeks, give or take. In this case, you’re giving. It’s December 14th, and the days are passing by too fast for your liking. You wish you had more time—to do a lot of things, actually. Luckily, with your rent being paid along with next month’s, that’s given you at least some sort of freedom.

You can thank your ex for that.

So, you’ve been saving for Koji, spending less on yourself. Not like you did much of that in the first place, but still. Again, guilt riddles your insides, insecurities plaguing your mind. Koji has never been a spoiled kid, having grown up quite frugally because of his equally frugal mother. Your tree, something you bargained for at the nearby spot in town that sells trees for the holiday season, is bottom of the barrel. Of course it is, you bargained for it. Sparse areas, branches way too thin and tiny, the height of the entire thing is just about as tall as you are. You keep your box of Christmas decorations so you never have to buy new ones each year. The lights you use are a warm yellow, with a few little bulbs dark because they burnt out. It wraps around your tree in a very messy way—Koji’s doing. A floppy white star placed at the very top of your tree, just barely holding on.

Little pieces of decorations hang from the frail branches: some snowflakes, red and blue balls (Koji said they looked like Spider-Man), and your most favorite one of them all that sits at the top: a picture of you and Koji from a photo booth two years ago. He was only three and you could still carry him then. Chubby cheekbones on display, a wide smile to match. You two are wearing Santa hats, head tilting into his with an equally ecstatic smile. You can’t look too long at it before you start getting emotional.

So mom of you.

Anywho, your point is that while the setup may look dull and even unattractive to most, you still find warmth in it. So does your little boy too. Although he doesn’t exactly know better, considering all you’ve ever had was skinny trees and years-old decorations, he doesn’t complain.

Of course, he does ask you sometimes about why the trees in the movies look different or why his friends have entirely decorated houses and you two don’t. You bottle it up to a simple, “Well, we’re not like other people, baby.”

He understands—most of the time.

Even so, he doesn’t show disrespect. As long as he spends time with you, getting even just three gifts, it’s all enough for him. So you feel guilty for not giving him the full Christmas experience a child should get, you feel insecure that other people are having the holiday season so much better than you are, and if you could, you’d do anything to ensure Koji has a real Christmas one time. At least once. It’s the least you can do as his mother, and it’s the least he deserves.

Because the holidays are meant for happiness, cheeriness, and family time. All things that feel very forced for you right now.

“It’s good to see you again, Y/N.”

Your lips purse, hoping it resembles a smile. But Shoko always reads you easily, dissecting your emotions. “You too, how have you been?”

“As good as I can. Late nights, exhausted, seeing someone’s leg split in half. You know, the usual.”

A small chuckle falls from you, nodding in silence. “I’m glad you were able to do what you want. ER work, right?”

“Yep,” Shoko hums, leaning back against the bench, coffee in hand. “Though I did have a friend who helped me get through it all so quickly.”

“Really? Who?”

“Cheating.” She smirks behind the rim of her cup.

Your eyes roll, sighing as you mimic her posture. It feels odd seeing her again for the first time after so many years. You gathered the courage to text her number, feeling distraught and overwhelmed last night. Right after you sent the text asking her to meet up the next morning, you slightly regretted it. Does she think I’m weird? What if she says no? God, what is wrong with me?

Your doubts were proved wrong when she replied with a simple “See you”. Simplicity was always Shoko’s thing. Something that you almost envied from the woman. You wish you had composure like her. Of course, her life isn’t exactly simple considering she’s dealing with people with broken anything and blood all the time, but you can tell she thoroughly enjoys it. She finds pleasure in her job.

Again, this is something you’re also slightly envious of.

“So….” She finally says after a beat of silence, turning her head over at you. “I want to ask the obvious, but I think I’ll wait. I want to see how you’re doing first.”

You worry your lip between your teeth, peering down at your fiddling fingers. The words are a little hard to get out, and a little embarrassing too. You don’t really want to vent to her after years of no contact, but it’s hard not to. At this point, you’re like a broken dam. Spilling and spilling by the minute until you completely break down. “Things could be better. I just have a lot on my mind and what I’m dealing with.”

She nods in understanding. “Like the articles and stuff?”

You sigh heavily in exhaustion, raising two fingers to rub the space between your brows. “Yeah, that’s one of them. You seen ‘em?”

“Many people have.”

Of course. “I just don’t get it. Why is it such a big deal he has a son no one knew about? Are these kinds of ‘issues’ really that important to rich people like him? Like, c’mon. It’s not like he killed a man. He has a son but everyone’s treating and acting like this is horrendous and astounding news that we should be fearful of.”

Shoko tilts her head, her gaze steady but not intrusive. “Rich people thrive on spectacle, you know that. Every little thing becomes a headline, especially when someone like Gojo, Japan’s sexiest man alive of 2024, is involved. He’s a household name, Y/N.”

You sigh, dragging a hand down your face. You forgot the fact that he’s been given that title. The article popped up on your Google just yesterday, giving in and tapping on it. The first picture that greets you is a very intimate, black-and-white picture of Satoru shirtless, with unbelted pants. He wasn’t looking at the camera in that one, but the way his arms were raised, accentuating his biceps made you feel a tiny throb. The first of many from that photoshoot the article included. “But why does it have to be this? Why is it such a scandal that he has a kid? Like, what are they even expecting from us? An apology? A press conference where we swear to never let it happen again?”

Shoko’s smirk is faint but wry. “You think logic applies here? The higher the pedestal, the harsher the fall. Gojo’s not just rich—he’s Gojo. Untouchable, perfect, untamed. Add a secret kid to the mix, and it’s like handing tabloids their golden ticket.”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “It’s so stupid. They’re acting like we’re some corrupt dynasty with skeletons bursting out of the closet. It’s not even a big deal!”

Shoko takes a sip of her drink, watching you with a calmness that somehow makes you feel seen. “It’s not a big deal to us, no. But to them? It’s betrayal, gossip, leverage—anything but what it really is. Just life.”

Her words settle in your chest, a grounding sort of clarity that you hadn’t realized you needed. You couldn’t—probably ever—understand the thought process of the elites of Japan. You’re a bit glad that you won’t. But in this situation, you just wish they would think like normal fucking people for one second. That’s hard to do when you grow up with a silver spoon in your mouth and everything at your fingertips. You peer over at her, your lips pressing together as you process everything. “I just…I don’t want Koji dragged into this. He doesn’t deserve it. That’s one of the main reasons why I kept everything a secret in the first place. But now look at us, everything has just changed so…so fast. I’m not ready for it, neither is my son.”

She lets the quiet air linger for a moment, your venting finding placement. “No, he doesn’t deserve it,” Shoko agrees. Her tone is firm, an anchor in the storm of your thoughts. “And neither do you. But the way I see it, you’ve got two choices: let them dictate how this plays out, or take control of the narrative yourself.” Her words linger, the weight of them grounding and unsettling all at once. Taking control of the narrative sounds easy in theory, but the reality feels like standing at the edge of a cliff, the wind threatening to knock you over.

“Easier said than done,” you mutter.

Shoko shrugs, but there’s an edge of reassurance in her expression. “True, but you’ve already been through worse. You’ve got more strength in you than you give yourself credit for. And if anyone can handle this mess, it’s you.”

Her confidence in you feels foreign but comforting. You nod slowly, gripping onto her words like a lifeline. “Thanks, Shoko.”

“Anytime.” She raises her cup slightly in a mock toast, her smile small but sincere. A beat flows through, a comfortable silence. The two of you watch the snow cover the ground with its beauty, the sun barely peeking through the cloudy, muted sky. You can’t help but draw the parallel. The sun, peeking, but hidden behind the heavy clouds, yet still present—trying, despite the odds. That’s you, isn’t it? Not gone, not entirely defeated, but dulled. Struggling to shine through the weight of everything pressing down on you.

Shoko breaks the silence with a soft chuckle. “It’s pretty, isn’t it? Quiet, too. Almost makes you forget the world’s still a mess.”

You nod, your gaze following the gentle swirl of snowflakes. “Yeah… It’s like everything’s paused for a moment. Peaceful.”

“Peaceful,” she echoes, leaning back in her seat. “Funny how something so fleeting can feel so permanent in the moment.” Her expression stirs something inside you—a quiet ache you’ve been trying to suppress. You glance at her, lips parting, but the words get stuck in your throat. She doesn’t push, doesn’t probe. Shoko’s always been good at giving space without making it feel like a void. Instead, she takes a long sip of her drink and says, “You know, snow’s a great equalizer. Covers up the mess, and makes everything look the same. Like the world gets a second chance. It’s the start of something new.”

Those words make you immediately remember Satoru’s. Snow’s the start of something new. That should be a good thing, right? You should be glad. However, how many more changes have to happen until something good comes your way? There’s only so much one can go through in such a short amount of time. But as Shoko said, you have more strength than you think. You’ve been through worse. And while that may be true, at this fleeting moment, that couldn’t be any further from the truth. It’s easy for her to say since she’s not actually living your life.

You haven’t exactly talked talked to Satoru yet about all this, about what he’ll say, what his parents will do. But they probably have good lawyers, right? Maybe they’ll put out a statement that any further harassment will be met with legal action. Or he’ll take pride in his son and show no regrets. You really don’t know. Your optimistic side wishes that Satoru will deal with this smoothly and how you want him to. But your pessimistic side says this will continue on until who knows how long. People randomly coming up to you, making remarks on social media, finding your job, finding your own social media accounts that you’ve had to take down.

Seriously, why the fuck do they care so much? Even after Shoko’s explanation, it’s still not enough for you. At the end of the day, we’re all human, we all do human things. Jesus Christ, you could never last a day in Satoru’s position. On constant public display and scrutiny, it’s exhausting and infuriating.

Satoru’s taken Koji off your hands for the while. It’s around four in the evening now. Although you were hesitant at first, he assured you he would do his absolute best to make sure nothing wrong happens and that he stays safe. And besides, it’s nice to have the place to yourself for a few hours. It’s confusing, because while at times you feel so defeatedly lonely, other times you welcome it with open arms.

But every parent probably feels like that, right? Praising the day they get even two hours to themselves, not worrying about making sure your child isn’t choking.

Anywho, you’ve taken the liberty to take a nice and warm refreshing bath. The heat does wonders to your skin, sighing wistfully and eyes closing in relaxation. The warmth envelops you like a comforting embrace, melting away the tension you didn’t realize had settled in your shoulders. It’s rare, these moments of solitude—where the only sound is the faint ripple of water as you shift slightly in the tub. You sink deeper, letting the heat seep into your muscles, as if the bath could wash away not just the stress of parenting but the heaviness of everything else weighing on you.

You tilt your head back against the rim of the tub, exhaling a deep sigh. It’s strange how quiet the apartment feels without Koji’s laughter or even Satoru’s voice filling the space. Strange, but not unwelcome. For once, there’s no background noise, no constant buzz of responsibility. Just you and the stillness. You almost wish you can share this stillness with someone else, but throw that thought out your mind fast.

Your fingers trail through the water absentmindedly, thoughts wandering. You wonder what Satoru and Koji are up to—probably indulging in some sugary snack you’d never approve of at this hour of the day because Koji’s sugar rushes just last so long. The image makes you smile faintly. Despite everything, Satoru’s been trying. And even if you don’t say it aloud, you notice. He’s been so good with him, the two are incredibly close and it’s like the past five years of absence never existed. You always knew Satoru was that type of man. He got along with kids well, children almost seemed to magically gravitate towards him. It’s…very attractive.

Once the bathwater starts to cool, you decide to reluctantly push yourself upright. Wrapping a towel around yourself. You pad into the bedroom, the cold air nipping at your damp skin. With Koji gone until probably around eight or nine, the silence settles over you once again. You glance at the clock on the nightstand��still hours to go before they return. You grab a soft blanket and curl up on the couch, flipping through channels aimlessly. Nothing really holds your attention, but it feels nice just to sit, undisturbed. As you take a sip of tea, you can’t help but think: Maybe you should let yourself enjoy these moments more.

It’s hard, but you should probably make more of an effort to take care of yourself. If you’re out of it, you’ll be unfit to care for Koji. And that’s your biggest nightmare ever. You blankly watch whatever show is playing after turning the TV on, but your mind seems much more louder than the voices from the characters on screen. You wish you could just shut off the constant worry, stressing, and overthinking about pretty much everything in your life.

Before you know it, your feet are guiding you back up, leading you down the hallway and to your room. The closet is to your left, a single door with a small lightbulb overhead that weakly shines its light and illuminates the inside. Your clothes hung up, shoes on the floor. Some of Koji’s old toys lay next to your shoes, having meant to donate them but never getting around to it. You go down to your knees, moving further inside the small closet. Having to push a few jackets to the side for better visibility, moving your shoes out the way. Stuffed in the very corner of your closet lies a worn black box. When you pull it out from its hiding spot, the lightbulb makes visible faint letters that are threatening to peel away.

Cheap markers.

There’s little dribbles of flowers and smiley faces along the sides, a stick figure image of a boy and girl. The boy’s eyes are drawn with the brightest blue marker you both found out the time. It’s a little shitty representation, but the boy’s line for an arm is connected to the girl’s arm; holding hands.

OUR WORLD

Something you both agreed was cheesy, though you thought of it. He wrote it. You had the ideas, he made them come to life.

Your breath catches as you brush your fingers over the worn box. The faded decorations are a time capsule—a reflection of a simpler, yet complicated past. A mix of laughter, innocence, and heartbreak lingers on its surface, as if the box itself holds memories you’ve long since buried. You hesitate for a moment, thumb tracing over the stick figures. The blue-eyed boy. The girl with a faint red-lipped smile. The images were so carelessly drawn back then, yet they now carry an almost painful clarity. A reminder of what once was—and what could never quite be again. Sliding the top off the box, you’re immediately greeted by the faint scent of old paper and something else merely nostalgic. Photographs, letters, and random trinkets fill the space. A keychain, an old movie ticket stub, and at the very top, a small folded note with handwriting you recognize instantly.

"To my favorite person,

No matter where life takes us, remember this moment, okay? This one is ours."

His handwriting feels more impactful than you thought it would. Your chest tightens as you unfold the note fully, memories flooding back with each word. Satoru had written this. Back when things were different—when the two of you weren’t carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. When promises felt unbreakable and the future seemed...possible.

You carefully place the note back into the box, your hands trembling slightly. There’s so much in this little box that you’ve avoided for years. So much of what you were, who you were, with him. And now, it feels like the box is staring back at you, asking the question you’ve avoided for so long.

What are you going to do with all of this?

Why have you kept this? After all the time? You remember telling yourself the day of your break up that you’d throw everything out—burn it all. But everytime you even touched it, you came to a brutal realization. You can’t. For some reason, you couldn’t get rid of it, couldn’t bring harm to this reminder of the lives you’ve lived and left behind.

You found comfort in the idea that one day in the future, you would be able to. But you also found comfort in the box itself. Oh how wrong you were. And that fact twists at your heart, your blood wringing out in the process. Leaving you with a dull and soulless shell. Staring down at the remnants, going through them—everytime. Maybe you haven’t ever had the strength to get rid of it, you wonder if you ever will.

Pictures of your younger self, of Satoru’s younger self smile up at you like they’re taunting you. As if the past can sense the future’s despair. They’re simple pictures, cute but simple. Just how you two wanted it. The quality isn’t that great, considering most of them were taken on shitty disposable cameras.

“Because it’s sustainable!” You argued when Satoru questioned the device when you first pulled it out. He simply scoffed and rolled his eyes, lips upturning into a smile the second you readied the device for a photo.

A picture is worth a thousand words.

Whoever came up with that phrase is a genius, but you also despise how much truth is held to that single sentence. Pain. Nostalgia. Longing. Happiness. Regret?

Flipping through the small pictures is like going through your very own time capsule. Each snapshot carries a story, a moment frozen in time that feels both distant and heartbreakingly close. The childish doodles lining the box seem to echo your younger self’s voice, innocent and untouched by the weight of reality. A photo catches your eye—a little blurry but unmistakably Satoru, grinning with his arms slung lazily over your shoulders. Your cheeks in the picture are flushed, and you can almost hear the laughter that must’ve been spilling from your lips when it was taken.

Then there’s another, of the two of you sitting under a sprawling tree, sunlight filtering through the leaves. His hand rests on yours, casual but intimate in a way that makes your chest ache now. You remember the warmth of that day, the way he’d joked about how your hair glowed in the light.

There’s a card, too, nestled beneath the pictures. The corners are slightly bent, but the words inside are still intact. His handwriting is unmistakable, bold and messy:

“To the girl who makes my world brighter every day. Don’t ever stop smiling—it’s my favorite thing about you. Love, Satoru.”

“Hah, I didn’t know you were such a poet.” You teased.

“Ugh, shut up.”

Your fingers trace over the ink, your breath halting. Time may have passed, and life may have twisted and turned, but this box feels like a portal to a version of you that still believed in endless possibilities. And yet, the ache in your chest doesn’t falter. Instead, it lingers, a reminder of how much has changed—and how much you wish hadn’t.

The final picture is one that almost tears at you. A silly one that you would’ve never imagined would push at your heart like a heavy door stuck in the way of your own contentment. You’re kissing him, the side profile of your two faces as you indulge in each other's lips. Satoru’s free arm slightly out of frame since he’s the one holding the camera high. You both are holding your left hands up, showing off your Ring Pops on each of your ring fingers. His red, yours blue.

“Let’s pose like a couple who just got married!”

You sighed. “Satoru….”

Written on the white border frame of the photo are the words:

She said yes!!

A melancholic laugh escapes you, tears hitting the picture. It’s colors are already slightly altered from previous wetness. Your chest feels tight, eyes closing with a sinking stomach. Why do you always do this to yourself when you’re already feeling upset? Why are you still so affected by it? Will it get better with time? But how much more time?

You gasp and flinch when the front door is rung, eyes widening as you swiftly and messily put the contents back in, sliding the top back on and stuffing the box in its hiding spot once more. After closing the door, you walk down the hall and to the peephole. Your brows furrow. “Satoru?” You ask as you open the door. Confusion hits you, seeing your sleeping son in his father’s arms. Koji’s backpack slid on top of Satoru’s shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

“Um…dropping Koji off?” He replies back like it’s the obvious, his own pale eyebrows knitting as he regards you. “…Are you okay? Why are you crying?”

Shit. “I’m not,” your hands raise to your cheeks, wiping any trace of your previous emotional breakdown, swiftly denying his words. “I thought you were coming back later.”

“It is later, Y/N.” He frowns and steps in, allowing you a better view of the dark night sky.

What the hell? Since when did it get dark? Slowly, you close and lock the door, blinking rapidly as you try to gather your bearings. Just how long were you on the couch for? How long were you reminiscing? Turning around, you see Satoru come out from Koji’s room.

“Put him down, showered and dressed him already. Little man played a lot today.”

“Oh,” you murmur, unsure of what else to say. You lean against the door for a moment, trying to regain your composure. Satoru’s words feel oddly domestic, almost like you’re living a life you’ve long since moved on from dreaming about—or tried to.

He sets Koji’s backpack down by the couch, brushing invisible dust off his sleeves as he glances your way. “You sure you’re okay?” His voice softens now, genuine. Concerned.

You force a small smile, crossing your arms. “I’m fine. Just…lost track of time, I guess.”

Satoru studies you, his crystalline eyes searching your face like he doesn’t quite believe you. He shrugs lightly, though, not wanting to push. “Alright. Koji was great today. Took him to that park he keeps talking about. Got some ice cream. He wore me out.” His lips quirk into a small grin, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Thanks for doing that,” you say softly, glancing toward Koji’s room. “He loves spending time with you. He always talks to me about your guys’ missions.”

“Hah, yeah, well…” Satoru scratches the back of his neck, leaning his tall frame casually against the wall. “I love spending time with him, too. And you know, it’s not just for him.” His words are light, but there’s a weight behind them, one you’re not sure you’re ready to unpack tonight. You don’t know what he really means by that, but it’s probably best that you don’t. You’d look into it too much. And like he said, you’re already complicating things even more by almost kissing him the other day.

You nod, your throat tightening as you look anywhere but at him. “I should probably check on him. Make sure he’s really asleep.”

“Y/N.” His voice stops you in your tracks.

You turn slowly, meeting his gaze. “What?” you ask, your voice smaller than you intended.

He hesitates for a moment, his brows furrowing as though he’s deciding whether or not to say what’s on his mind. Finally, he sighs and steps closer. “If something’s bothering you…you can talk to me. You know that, right? You look like you’re crying and I—”

Your heart clenches, the sincerity in his voice almost too much to bear. “I know,” you manage to cut him off, your voice sharper than you had wanted it to be.

For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the air between you heavy with unspoken words. Then, Satoru clears his throat and steps back. “Alright. Guess I’ll head out, then. Call me if you need anything.” You hum, watching as he heads for the door. Just before he leaves, he pauses, glancing back at you one last time. His eyes linger for a second longer than they should, and then he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

And you’re left alone again, the weight of the evening settling back over you like a familiar, unwelcome blanket. You want to scold yourself for losing track of time so easily, letting yourself get lost for such a long time. He probably thinks something’s wrong, and while you appreciate him being mature and overall cordial enough to offer his ear, you don’t want to give him that. It’s embarrassing and almost too vulnerable for you right now to vent to your ex.

You know that saying that the last thing or person you think about before you fall asleep is what you’ll dream of? He stares at the door, trying to will himself into stopping his train of thought, but the vision of you won’t leave. Not tonight. Maybe it’s the nagging scent of your clothes he can still smell, or maybe it’s the way you looked so raw, so unguarded. Maybe it’s the promise he made to himself years ago to never let you go, to never let you fall apart without him. Now look where he is.

Satoru’s mind is a whirlwind as he steps back into the cold, dark air of his penthouse, the door clicking shut behind him with a finality he wasn’t quite ready for. He should’ve left things simple, right? Drop off Koji, make sure everything’s okay, and then go. But of course, he couldn’t help himself. He had to ask, had to reach for that sliver of connection that still seemed to remain between the two of you, even after all this time. Or maybe he’s not reaching, he’s just being a good person. Or maybe there is no sliver of connection at all.

He rubs his face with one hand as he walks down the hall, his thoughts staying on your expression, the tightness in your smile, the way you tried so hard to hide whatever was eating at you. Your red eyes that seemed glossy enough to tell him what you had been doing before he arrived. He should’ve pushed, should’ve stayed longer, but something told him it wasn’t the right time. Also, not to mention the fact that he’s not entitled to know anymore, and he shouldn’t want to. He wishes he could forget—wishes it wasn’t so easy for him to still care about you after everything you’ve put him through.

Still, his mind can’t stop replaying the way you looked tonight, like you were holding back—like you were on the edge of something he couldn’t reach. And now, that’s the last image he sees before closing his eyes: you, standing there, fragile but strong, trying to put on a brave face when he knew you were anything but okay.

He slides into his bed, sinking into the comforting mattress. Stop thinking about it, he tells himself. Just go to sleep.

But it's useless. The thought of you doesn't leave him. It never does in times like this. But that's the thing, isn't it? He always cared. Always would. Any good man would

As the awaited sleep stretches on, his mind drifts back to those moments—the way you wiped your face quickly when he mentioned the tears. How you didn’t let him in. He can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to this.

Before he knows it, he feels the weight of his own exhaustion, the pull of sleep starting to take over. He lets his eyes stay shut. Stretching out on the bed, his thoughts blurring into a fizzle. The room is quiet, too quiet. But just like that, he’s falling and falling into a realm where the weight of everything else disappears.

The first thing he sees startles him. It’s just you, standing in front of him again, your eyes locked with his.

You’re both staring at one another before it’s like someone slowly raising the light switches. Sun peeking through the blinds of the kitchen you two stand in as you place a hand down to your stomach. When his eyes follow it, he then notices the rounded swell that’s visible from beneath the dress you wear.

“Hey, you’re awake.”

You giggle, voice smooth and inviting, stepping closer to him until you can reach his hand, intertwining your fingers.

Yep, definitely a dream. Or maybe a nightmare.

“I made you breakfast, your favorite.” You guide his hand to your bump, chuckling softly. “But baby here was getting hungry, so we may have gotten a little taste test before.”

Satoru’s heart skips a beat, his fingers instinctively brushing over your rounded stomach as you guide them there. The warmth of your skin under his touch feels real, too real, and his mind stumbles, trying to make sense of the situation. The room around you starts to feel like a glimpse into an alternative universe. Soft, golden light spilling in through the blinds, the smell of something warm and inviting persisting in the air. It’s almost too perfect, too serene to be real. And yet, he’s standing here, his breath caught in his throat as his fingers rest against the gentle curve of your belly. The weight of it, the life growing inside you, sends a quiet thrill through him.

You giggle, the sound of it so familiar it makes his chest ache. It’s like nothing has changed. Like you’re the same as you’ve always been, only…this time, things are different. There’s a quiet tenderness in the air that wasn’t there before. He swallows, trying to fight the growing confusion in his chest. “I—I don’t understand,” he murmurs, his thumb lightly brushing over the small, soft swell of your stomach. He knows it’s not real, but it doesn’t stop his brain from wandering into beliefs of if it were. “How… how are we here?”

Your smile widens, that knowing glimmer in your eyes that makes his chest tighten with something he can’t name. “We’re here because this is where we belong,” you say simply, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. You nudge his hand a little lower, guiding him to feel the tiny movement beneath his palm, the small shift of life inside you.

It’s then that the weight of the moment hits him all at once, his heart thumping in his chest. The quiet reality of what you’ve built together, the life you’ve shared, and everything that could’ve been. He’s overwhelmed, caught between longing and disbelief. His voice cracks when he finally speaks again. “Is this what you wanted? What we wanted?”

You laugh softly, resting your forehead against his chest, your fingers still entwined with his. “It’s what I’ve always wanted. What we have always wanted. Stop acting weird.” Your words are a balm, soothing yet laced with something deeper, something that speaks to both of your hearts, even if this is fake.

In this moment, everything feels right. It feels like you’re back to where you both belong.

Satoru stays still for a moment, the warmth of your forehead pressed against him, your fingers gently intertwining with his. The softness of the moment seems to wrap around him, the image of you—here, with him—so perfect that it almost hurts. The softness of your touch, the way your body feels against his as you stand close, it’s like he’s been starved of this connection for so long. A quiet ache settles deep within him, but it’s not the hurt he’s used to. No, this is something else—something far more complicated.

He shifts slightly, his gaze never leaving yours as you lift your head. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to feel this again,” he admits, his voice low and tentative. The vulnerability in his tone catches him off guard, but it feels natural, like you’ve always been the one person he could let his guard down with. “You and…us. Everything that’s happened.”

You hum softly, brushing your thumb over the back of his hand. The smile on your lips is small but full of quiet understanding. “I know, Satoru,” you say, your voice steady, like you’ve been carrying this weight for far longer than he ever realized. “But this…” You glance down at your stomach before meeting his eyes again, “This is what we fought for. This is what we still have.”

He feels the truth of your words settle into him, but it’s a bittersweet sensation, one that pulls at something deep inside of him. It’s almost too good to be true, this version of reality, and he can’t help but wonder why his mind has conjured up this visualization—this perfect picture of you and him, together in a way he never thought possible.

“But what if we don’t get it right?” he asks quietly, his brow furrowing in uncertainty. “What if we’re too broken to fix it? We’ve made so many mistakes…”

You place a gentle finger against his lips, silencing him before he can spiral further. “We’ve always been broken, Satoru,” you say softly, “But we’ve always found our way back to each other. And that’s enough. Right?”

The way you say it, so sure of yourself, sends a warmth through his chest. It’s a peace he didn’t think he would ever have again. His heart beats a little faster, a little steadier, as he finally lets go of the lingering doubts, the fear of what’s beyond this moment. He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours, a small smile tugging at his lips despite the weight in his chest. “I don’t know what’s next, but for now… I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your eyes soften, and for a moment, he sees it—the connection between you two, unbroken, unshakable. Even in the midst of everything that’s happened, the messy past and the uncertainty of the future, he realizes that some things are worth fighting for. “This is enough for me,” you whisper, closing the distance between you, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It’s gentle, but it carries everything—everything he’s been wanting to say, everything he’s been longing to hear.

And god, the way your pretty lips feel against his is heavenly. It’s strong and long-lasting. Hand to your cheek as his head tilts to deepen it, feeling your warm breath enter his mouth like a soft pull. He’s tempted to dance his tongue along your own.

As you pull away, he feels a quiet peace settle over him. The dream, though fleeting, has given him something he didn’t know he needed. A glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, they can find their way back to each other for good.

But the atmosphere darkens, like putting a blanket over a lamp. Your own eyes dulling into something he saw before he left you tonight, something he’s been seeing everytime he visits you. Your smile dropping into a placid emotion. Satoru’s heart stutters in his chest, the warmth of the moment slipping away like sand between his fingers. The light around you seems to fade, the world losing its softness and vibrancy. A chill washes over him, creeping through his veins like ice water. Your smile, once so gentle and inviting, disappears into something far more distant, as if a part of you has shut down completely. The joy that had filled the air vanishes, replaced by a heavy, suffocating silence that wraps itself around both of you. His eyes widen in confusion, and he takes a step back, searching your face for any hint of explanation. He feels the air shift into a freezing temperature.

"What—?" He stops himself, his words catching in his throat, trying to make sense of the drastic shift in the atmosphere. The way your hand falls to your side feels like a finality, as though the reality he had just witnessed—of you, of the hope in your eyes—was nothing more than a simple illusion.

The weight of the silence presses down on him, smothering. His gaze moves down, and that's when he realizes the baby bump has vanished. There’s nothing there. The roundness, the warmth, the promise of new life—gone. In its place, there's only the smooth curve of your stomach, flat and unchanged.

"Y/N?" His voice cracks on your name, disoriented and desperate for some kind of explanation. "What happened? What…what’s going on?"

But you don’t answer right away. Instead, you look at him like you’ve seen a stranger, a shift in your eyes that only deepens the growing pit in his stomach. Your gaze is cold, distant, almost as if you've already resigned yourself to something. Satoru swallows hard, his hand instinctively reaching for you, but when his fingers brush against your arm, it feels like the connection is completely severed. "What’s wrong? Talk to me," he pleads, his voice raw and filled with confusion.

You take a slow, deliberate step back, the air between you two growing heavier. "Satoru," you say, but your voice sounds far too calm, far too final. "This is the reality, isn't it? This is what it always was—always will be. A dream. A fantasy."

His mind races, his heart pounding in his chest. "No, this isn’t a fantasy! We—we had a chance. You and me, and Koji…and the other…We were—" His throat tightens, unable to finish his sentence.

But you cut him off, the finality in your words sinking deep. "You left, Satoru. You just wanted us to end, didn’t you? It’s why you didn’t fight for me the day we broke up—fight for us. You made me make that promise. You left, and that’s what this is now. A memory. The past. Something we’ll never, ever get back.”

The words land like a blow to his chest, sharp and cutting. His chest tightens as he searches your face, willing for you to show him that this is just another moment in the dream—that the warmth would come back, that the hope would return. But your eyes are cold. The distance between you feels insurmountable.

He opens his mouth to speak, to argue, to fix whatever it is that's wrong—but nothing comes out. The truth is, he doesn’t know how to fix this. Not anymore. Not when everything between you feels so broken, like fragments of a life he no longer knows how to put together.

And just like that, the warmth of the dream fades completely, leaving him in the cold, dark reality of what’s been lost.

“I wish I kept Koji from you. I wish you weren’t his father.”

Satoru startles awake, jolting upright in his bed. He feels like he’s just been splashed with ice cold water, in a way, he has. Raising his hands to his temples, face scrunching in discomfort. He’s breathing fast and hard, heart feeling like it’ll just pop right out. His hands trembling.

The sounds of birds tweeting a song is what he hears next. The morning light filters softly through the curtains, but it feels blinding to him, harsh against the remnants of the nightmare. His chest rises and falls rapidly, each breath shallow and frantic, his heart still racing as he fights to steady himself. The words you spoke echo in his mind, sharp and cutting. I wish I kept Koji from you. I wish you weren’t his father. The pain in those words, the hurt, is still so vivid in his memory.

Satoru places his hands on the sides of his face, trying to ground himself. His fingers dig into his skin, as if the physical pressure could somehow push away the remnants of the dream, make it vanish. But it lingers. It hangs heavy in the air, suffocating him. Why did you say that? Why did you feel that way? Do you actually feel that way in real life? Are you planning to take Koji and run away with him again? Did you seriously regret having a child with him?

He inhales deeply, his breath shaky, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart. The sound of birds chirping in the distance serves as a reminder that the world continues to move outside of his turmoil, but it only makes him feel more disconnected. He pushes the blankets off of him and swings his legs over the side of the bed, his feet hitting the floor with a thud. His mind races, trying to make sense of what he’s feeling. That dream—it wasn’t just a nightmare. It felt like a warning, a reminder of how fragile everything has been, how much he’s lost. How much he’s failed.

The promise.

The weight of what’s happened between you two settles heavily on his shoulders. And it makes him feel cautious—scared that you’ll do what you said you wouldn’t, all over again.

Satoru stands, his body still trembling slightly, and walks toward the window. He peers outside, letting the light touch his face, even if it’s almost too bright for him right now. It’s peaceful outside, the world as it always is in the morning: calm, serene, untouched. But his own mind is a storm, and no amount of sunlight seems to clear the clouds. He closes his eyes and exhales deeply, trying to shake off the remnants of the dream, the guilt gnawing at him. The idea of you saying that you wished you’d kept Koji from him—the thought cuts deeper than he’s willing to admit. What does that mean for the future?

What does it mean for him?

Satoru feels his heart aching with the need to fix things, to understand if you actually feel that way. But he's left in the quiet chaos of his own mind, unsure of where to begin. And that's the worst part: not knowing where to start.

Whatever, it was just a dream. Dreams aren’t real. Don’t think too much into it.

A text message pings, causing him to look over. The sight of your name forms a twisting feeling to reside in his core, frowning. It’s like when you dream about your significant other cheating on you, so the next morning you’re a little mad at them for no reason. But this time, he’s not sure if it’s for no reason.

Maybe you actually feel like this, feeling regret for not keeping Koji from him any longer. You’ve obviously shown to be good at keeping secrets, so who’s to say you’re not still doing that. He grabs his phone, clicking on your message and pushing down the resentment that continues to bloom once more.

Y/N:

Hey, have u had any luck with the leaker?

Satoru sighs heavily, eyes closing momentarily before opening them back up and typing you back. He can’t help the shortness in his response.

Satoru:

Y/N:

Pls let me know of any changes

He doesn’t bother replying, tossing his phone on his bed and getting up and ready for the day. Of course the thought of the identity of who leaked the photo has been running rampant in his mind day in and day out. But he just woke up from a particularly scary nightmare—or a message?—and he doesn’t need his mind overwhelmed anymore than it is right now.

As he goes through his morning routine, Satoru can’t shake the consistent unease. The nightmare, your text, and the weight of everything that’s been happening swirl in his mind like a storm he can’t escape. He brushes his teeth with more force than necessary, gripping the sink as the toothpaste foam spills over his lips. He stares at his reflection in the mirror, his pale blue eyes duller than usual, rimmed with exhaustion.

He can’t stop wondering—what if there’s truth to his nightmare? What if you do regret letting him into Koji’s life? The thought gnaws at him, a relentless ache in his chest.

The leak complicates things even further. Someone out there—someone close enough to know—exposed him and Koji to the world. The conversation with his mother plays again internally. Someone close or possibly a business partner. But what if she’s wrong? What if it’s someone who’s not close, but still smart enough? And while it’s caused a media frenzy, he knows the real damage is more personal. It’s the wedge it’s driving between him and you. The accusations, the whispers, the uncertainty—it’s all feeding into the growing gap he’s been struggling to bridge.

He pulls on a shirt, his movements jerky as his frustration builds. He hasn’t been able to sleep properly for days either, his mind consumed by the mystery of the leak and the uneasy tension between you two. It’s not like you’re outright hostile, but there’s something there—something distant, guarded. And now, after the dream, he can’t stop replaying the worst-case scenarios in his head.

The atmosphere in the room is cold, tense—calculating. Out of the four people situated inside, none speak. Just looking at one another in silent scrutiny. Yamato and Akane are sitting side by side, seated across from them are another married couple.

Kenji and Emi Nakamura.

Kenji and Emi Nakamura exude the quiet confidence of people used to wielding power. Kenji’s sharp suit is impeccably tailored, his posture straight and commanding, while Emi, poised in a sleek dress, sits with her legs crossed, her hands folded neatly on her lap. Despite their calm appearances, their sharp gazes and the slight twitch of Kenji’s jaw betray their impatience.

Yamato leans back in his chair, his arms crossed, his eyes cold and unwavering as they meet Kenji’s. Akane, seated next to him, is the picture of composed elegance, but the slight tap of her heel against the floor reveals her tension. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, until finally, Kenji speaks, his voice smooth but laced with thinly veiled irritation.

“So,” he begins, his piercing eyes flickering between Yamato and Akane. “Are we going to dance around the issue all day, or will one of you have the decency to explain how this... mess...got out and why the man who’s dating our daughter suddenly has a secret son?”

Yamato doesn’t flinch. He lets the accusation hang in the air for a moment before responding, his tone measured. “We don’t deal in leaks, Kenji. And we certainly wouldn’t jeopardize our own family’s reputation for... what? A scandal? That’s more your style.”

Kenji’s expression hardens, and Emi places a delicate hand on his arm, a subtle but firm reminder to keep his temper in check. She smiles politely, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Let’s not turn this into a blame game. We’re all here because this leak affects all of us—your family, ours, Satoru’s and Himari’s.”

Akane’s lips twitch into a faint, humorless smile. “Don’t patronize us, Emi. You and I both know you’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this. You’ve always wanted to see Satoru fall from grace.”

Emi raises an eyebrow, her smile unfaltering. “I want what’s best for our families, Akane. A public scandal doesn’t benefit anyone, least of all Gojo or the Nakamura name. Besides, our daughter quite loves your son.”

Kenji leans forward, his hands clasped together on the table. “Let’s cut the theatrics. Who is responsible?”

Akane’s heel stops tapping, and she fixes Kenji with a sharp look. “We’re working on it. Our investigators are thorough, and they’ll uncover the source soon enough.”

Kenji’s eyes narrow. “They’d better. Because the last thing the Nakamura name needs is a public scandal about a conniving young man and our innocent daughter. She’s already receiving enough scrutiny as it is.”

The tension in the room ratchets up another notch, but Yamato remains unmoved. His voice, low and steady, cuts through the silence. “And if we discover the leak came from your side, Kenji? Are you prepared to deal with the consequences?” The two men lock eyes, a silent battle of wills, while their wives sit in their respective corners, poised like chess queens ready to strike. The room may be quiet, but the unspoken threats linger in the air like a storm waiting to break.

“We’d never do something like this, especially if it affects our daughter.” Emi replies firmly. She tilts her chin up slightly, an air of indignation radiating from her as her perfectly manicured hand rests on her husband’s arm. “You should know better than to accuse us of such underhanded behavior, Yamato.”

Yamato’s wife leans forward slightly, her tone equally sharp. “And you should know better than to express such hostility towards us. Tenka Couture benefits more from Gojo Group than vice versa.”

Emi’s smile tightens, her composure threatening to crack. “Why, of course. We’re just saying, Himari has nothing to gain from this mess. If anything, she’s a victim of it. The constant media scrutiny, the endless whispers. How do you think that’s been affecting her?”

Kenji slams his hand on the table, the sound reverberating through the room. “Enough. This isn’t about Himari. This is about finding the truth. If your investigators are as thorough as you claim, then we’d better find answers—and soon.”

Yamato meets Kenji’s glare with a calm intensity. “Rest assured, we will. But until then, I suggest you keep your own people in check. If we find out this was an attempt to sabotage Satoru—or worse, hurt him—there will be consequences. You know that better than anyone.”

Kenji leans back, his jaw tight, as Emi places another calming hand on his shoulder. “We don’t want this to escalate any further,” she says, her voice softer now but no less firm. “For everyone’s sake, let’s handle this with discretion.”

Akane glances at Yamato, smoothing down the front of her skirt. “We agree. But let’s make one thing clear—if the Nakamuras are involved in any way, there will be no forgiveness. Not from us, and not from Satoru.”

Kenji sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Of course, we understand. But again, we are in no way involved with this leak. With the revelation of this…boy, it messes up everything. Himari and Satoru are a couple. They’re supposed to represent unity between our families and companies, a partnership that benefits both sides. This child complicates that narrative. It puts everything we’ve worked for at risk.”

Yamato’s eyes narrow, his sharp gaze cutting through Kenji’s words. “We understand, yes. But at the end of the day, Satoru is our son, this boy is…well he’s a part of our family now. Your concern seems to be more about appearances than the actual implications for Satoru’s life or the boy’s well-being, but I understand that. My wife and I too are concerned with the way this sudden news could somehow stain our reputation.”

Kenji leans forward, his hands clasped tightly on the table, his expression taut. “Appearances are everything in this world, Yamato. You know that. If this story continues to spread, the consequences won’t just affect Satoru or Himari—they’ll ripple through both of our families. Investors, business partners, the media—they all thrive on scandal, and we can’t afford to give them fuel. They’ll begin to wonder what else we’re keeping a secret.”

“Himari and Satoru’s relationship isn’t as stable as you think it is,” Akane counters, her tone measured but resolute. “This revelation didn’t create the cracks; it only exposed them. Maybe it’s time you and your daughter accept that.”

Emi bristles at Akane’s insinuation, her voice cold but precise. “You underestimate my daughter’s strength. Himari has always handled challenges with grace. She and Satoru will navigate this together—if you and your family stop meddling.”

Yamato cuts in, his expression calm. “Let’s not pretend this is solely about Satoru and Himari. The Nakamuras have as much to lose as we do. But let me remind you, Kenji, that this child—Koji—isn’t just a complication. He’s Satoru’s son, and that makes him family. As the adults in this situation, we also hold a certain level of accountability as for keeping this child away from public eye.”

Kenji’s jaw tightens, his composure threatening to crack. “Family or not, this boy’s existence jeopardizes everything. Himari has been nothing but supportive of Satoru, and she doesn’t deserve to be overshadowed by a damned secret from his past.”

Akane’s voice slices through the tension like a blade. “Supportive, or opportunistic? Don’t confuse loyalty with convenience. If Himari truly cared for Satoru, she’d understand that his son isn’t just a ‘secret’—he’s part of who he is now.”

The room falls silent, the weight of Akane’s words lingering. Kenji finally stands, his movements deliberate. “We’ll see how this plays out. But if you think we’ll let the Nakamura name be tarnished by this… situation, you’re mistaken.”

Yamato rises as well, his eyes locking with Kenji’s in an unspoken challenge. “And if you think we’ll allow anyone—anyone—to undermine Satoru or the Gojo legacy, you’re equally mistaken. The truth will come out, Kenji. Be prepared for it.”

With that, the couple turns and leave, their exit leaving the Gojos in a cloud of tension and unease. Akane finally speaks, her voice low but firm. “Remind me again why we are pushing through with this arrangement. The Gojo Group hardly needs Tenka Couture. We’re more than capable of standing on our own.”

Yamato exhales, running a hand through his silver hair. “It’s not about needing them, Akane. It’s about the influence. The Nakamuras have deep connections in sectors we’ve been trying to expand into—fashion, entertainment, international markets. Aligning with them strengthens our position globally. We settled this years ago, okay?”

Akane crosses her arms, her expression skeptical. “At what cost? Their arrogance alone is enough to make me question this. And let’s not even get started on Himari. She might be poised on the outside, but she lacks the fortitude to handle Satoru’s world. She clings to the spotlight, but she’s not ready for the shadows.”

Yamato’s jaw tightens. “You’re not wrong, but this arrangement was never meant to hinge on her ability to ‘handle’ Satoru. It’s a strategic move, not a personal one. I thought you understood that.”

“Strategic?” Akane’s voice rises slightly, her composed exterior slipping. “Do you even hear yourself? This isn’t just a business deal anymore. There’s a child involved now—your grandson. And yet, we’re expected to sideline him for the sake of appearances?”

Yamato’s gaze hardens, a rare flicker of emotion breaking through his typically stoic demeanor. “The boy is not being sidelined. But if this situation spirals out of control, it won’t just be Satoru’s name dragged through the mud—it’ll be Koji’s, too. I’m trying to protect all of them. As much as I dislike this situation and as much as I do not care for getting to know this boy, at the end of the day he’s connected to us.”

Akane steps closer, her voice softening but losing none of its edge. “And how do you expect to protect Koji by tying Satoru to someone who doesn’t have the heart to care for him? Because that’s what you’re doing, Yamato. You’re forcing a partnership that benefits no one but the Nakamuras. I’ve told you this from the start that it won’t do us good. There are plenty of other people we can contact that won’t involve forcing our son into an arranged marriage.”

For a moment, Yamato doesn’t respond. His broad shoulders sag just slightly, the weight of the conversation settling over him. “This isn’t about what’s ideal, Akane. It’s about what’s necessary. And until we find another way to stabilize this situation, the arrangement stands.”

Akane shakes her head, turning away. “Necessary, huh? Tell me, Yamato—when did we start sacrificing our son for necessity?”

Her words hover in the air as she walks out of the room, leaving Yamato standing alone, the tension thick and suffocating. He glances out the window, the city lights reflecting in his cold blue eyes. “Sometimes,” he murmurs to himself, “family is the sacrifice.”

Kenji and Emi sit in the back of the blacked out Escalade. One visibly more angry than the other. The assistant up front hands Kenji an IPad. “Here, sir.”

Kenji takes it without a word, scrolling. On the screen, a plethora of all the personal information regarding the woman who caused all this.

You.

Kenji’s grip tightens on the iPad as his sharp eyes scan the screen, each line of information making his jaw clench harder. Birthdate, address, financial records, employment history—it’s all there. How pathetic. Every detail meticulously laid out like a blueprint of your life. Beside him, Emi glances over, her expression less angered and more calculating.

“So,” she finally says, her tone icy and deliberate. “This is her.”

Kenji doesn’t reply immediately, his focus locked on the screen. An ID picture accompanied the words. The photo of you, Satoru, and Koji catches his attention, and his lips press into a thin line. The leaked photo. “The audacity,” he mutters. “She hides this little punk tyke for years, and now she’s a problem we’re forced to deal with. They both are.”

Emi tilts her head, her perfectly manicured nails tapping lightly against her armrest. “She doesn’t look like much. Hardly someone who should be causing this much of a stir. But appearances can be deceiving.” Her lips curl into a faint sneer. “Especially for women like her.”

“She’s more than just a stir. She’s a maddening, infuriating liability with baggage from hell,” Kenji snaps, handing the iPad back to his assistant with a flick of his wrist. “The kind that could ruin everything if we’re not careful because they themselves have nothing to lose.”

The assistant clears his throat nervously from the front seat. “Sir, should I proceed with the next steps?”

Kenji leans back in his seat, his eyes dark and unrelenting. “Not yet. I want to understand her first. How she operates. What she values. Everyone has a weakness. Once we find hers, we’ll decide the next course of action. Though, I assume it’s the ragged infant.”

Emi raises an eyebrow, her tone almost teasing. “You sound like you’re preparing for war.”

Kenji’s gaze flickers to his wife, his expression unreadable. “Aren’t we?”

The tension in the car is palpable, the low hum of the engine the only sound as they drive through the city. Emi’s lips curve into a faint smile, though her eyes remain cold. “She won’t win, Kenji. Not against us. Not against our sweet baby girl.”

“She won’t even get the chance,” Kenji replies, his voice hard and certain. “We’ll make sure of it.”

a/n: this is my present to u all!!!! happy holidays! ❤️❤️

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milfsdoll · 4 months ago

Text

Good luck, babe.

Writer!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: Twelve years later, a package is sent to your home, the latest book from your ex secret lover. The gesture turns your whole life upside down, a harsh wave of your old feelings and memories dragging you towards her again.

Warnings: +18, angst, internal homophobia, mentions of Steve, Agatha and reader are both in their thirties, smut, finger and oral sex, reader receiving, praise kink, soft sex.

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: I absolutely loved writing this one and I may have dropped a tear or two, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did<3 sorry if there are any mistakes, English is not my language.

Tag list: @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @yamysunmoon thank you loves <3

Masterlist

“I love my life”

You kept repeating that sentence over and over again, standing before the bathroom mirror, hands resting on the sink, head hung low. Trying to ease your shaky breath, trying to stop the tears that threaded to spill from your closed lids.

“I love my life, I love my life, I love my life”

With a deep breath you looked up to your reflection, your face reflecting anything but exhaustion and sadness, your mascara ruined from the tears that escaped.

“I fucking love my life”

And you did… right? You had to.

You had everything you have ever wanted, everything you dreamt of when you were a kid. A good and stable job, a beautiful home to enjoy and take care of and… you had a husband. A perfect, nice, handsome husband.

Then why the fuck did you feel this way? So empty, like you were falling down a pit of darkness, like you had this hollow hole in your heart, every day getting bigger, keeping you from doing normal life things. You had to pull every strength from you just to get up from bed in the morning and go to work. You been feeling like this for years now, but lately… after seeing her on the news again…

Seeing her on tv, being interviewed for her new book, one that you had at home, hidden in the closet, ready to be read. One that she sent you directly with a personal autograph for some fucking sick reason.

No, no, this wasn’t because of her, it couldn’t be, it’s been… what? Twelve years? This was not because of her, no way.

You stared at your left hand, slightly shaking, you inspected your wedding ring, your beautiful, shiny, wedding ring, it should bring you joy, make you feel free, happy. But it only made you nauseous, feeling like you were tied down for life.

Only if you… could… slowly you brought your right hand to the ring, pulling it up from your finger, your mind screaming at you, telling you what a terrible idea this was, your breath hitched, suddenly feeling lighter when it fully came off, like all your burden disappeared in that moment. You wiggled your fingers little bit, bringing your hand up in front of the mirror, you could see the tan mark from the metal, you haven’t taken it off in the whole ten years you’ve been married, and it felt… good.

You felt fucking good without it.

“No” you whispered, shaking those thoughts from your head and deciding to put the ring back on, but when you were lifting your right hand the ring fell from your hold “fuck!” You hissed trying to catch it as it bounced in the sink “fuck, no, come here” you whined as it slipped again, going directly into the drain “no, shit!” You smashed the marble, cursing your fucking office for not having a proper working sink “what the fuck!?” You groaned, hiding you face in your hands in frustration.

Why the hell did you even have to take it off? It was stupid! Why did you take. it. off?!

“Ok… it’s ok, calm down” you whispered to yourself, taking a deep breath before splashing some water in your face and redoing your make up “it’s alright, he won’t notice, and you’ll go buy a new, exact one, before he does” you tried to calm yourself down, and you were sure if anyone came near the bathroom door and heard you they’d think you have gone crazy, and maybe you have.

And just like that you continued with your day, putting on a good face and getting through your schedule. Going to meetings, getting some paperwork done and going for a drink after with your best friend, and Steve wasn’t going to be home for at least a few more days, so that gave you advantage to get a new ring.

When you finished at work you bid your goodbyes to your coworkers and almost flew to your car in the parking lot, you needed those drinks with Wanda so fucking bad.

As soon as you parked your car you made your way to the bar. You waved at the waitress as you entered before turning around to see Wanda standing up from her seat “oh my god, hi” you instantly sighed in relief as you hugged her, giving her a big squeeze before pulling away and sitting in your usual booth.

“Rough day, huh?” She chuckled at your tired face.

“Week” you corrected her with a huff, hearing her chuckle again. She knew something was off when you called her for an urgent girls night.

You ordered your usual drink, Wanda and you catching up from the two weeks you’ve been apart, when she suddenly saw you naked hand when you went to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Sweetheart?” She asked, her demeanor getting serious now, her head tilting in her famous way.

“Hm?”

“Where is your ring?”

Well, fuck.

You let out a heavy sigh and rested your hand on the table, glancing it for a second before your head turned up to your friend, her face in a worried expression “did something happed with Steve?”

“No, non of that” you shook your head, you marriage was still the same old boring story.

Your face cringed for a moment “but I might have dropped the ring in the damn sink this morning” you winced at the memory, your eyes closing, not wanting to see the disappointed face in the redhead’s face.

But all you heard was laugher, furrowing your eyebrows you looked up at her, watching as she clutched her stomach from laughing “it’s not funny! It fell so fucking dramatically for some reason, I had a really stressful moment there!” You scoffed incredulously at her, the woman laughing even harder at your words.

You started chuckling with her, your hand going to your mouth, actually feeling bad about the whole situation, but it was hilarious really.

“Oh my god” Wanda said breathless, trying to calm down as she wiped her tears away “please tell me if was an accident” she said before taking a deep breath and looking at you.

“Of course it was! What do you take me for?”

Was it?

“Well… I know things with Steve have been a little tense after he saw the book, so I don’t know, just making sure”

You sighed and took a sip from your drink, contemplating if telling Wanda the truth was a good idea, you knew she wouldn’t judge you, but you didn’t want to bring anymore attention to the topic, and you didn’t want to feel more confused than you were feeling already. So you kept silent.

“By the way… have you read her book, already?”

“Oh no, and I don’t plan on reading it, honestly”

Wanda cleared there throat, getting visibly uncomfortable all of the sudden “what?” you asked her, sensing her nerves flooding around her.

“You should read it” she sighed, and the pity look she gave you… you didn’t like that look at all.

“Why?” Your voice sounded rough, your eyes glaring at the woman.

“It’s just- I don’t- just read it, alright? You really should…”

Ok now you were the one who was nervous, what the fuck did that woman write about? I mean, the note she left on your book…

This one is for you… good luck, babe.

Those words haunted you at night.

“Wanda…” you were starting to get a really uneasy feeling here “did Agatha write about me?”

Wanda instantly held your hands in hers “I’m so sorry” she said squeezing your hands, but you quickly retreated them, flinching from it like her hold was fire. You stared at her, shock all over your features.

She wouldn’t be capable, right? She did not write about you, maybe Wanda mistook it, maybe the book was about someone else. Agatha wasn’t that cruel to write about you. After all these years, you thought she even forgot about you, your past together. But you did hurt her. You broke her heart. Fuck.

“I-I’m sorry Wands, I have to go”

Without another word you left the bar, not even hearing your friend begging you to stay behind you. Your heart and mind raced, every memory, every feeling, every bit of your past with Agatha starting to flood out. How could she write about such thing? Knowing you had a husband, a life, a reputation. What if people found out it was about you? It could ruin your whole life!

Not noticing how or when, you found yourself parked outside of your place, rushing out of your car you made your way inside, running upstairs, into your bedroom. Flicking the light on, you entered your walk in closet, bringing the chair you had in the corner to the shelves. After taking your heels off you got on it, searching for the book in the back of your closet, whining when you didn’t find it “where the fuck are you?” You got on the arm of the chair, throwing all your purses off the shelve when you saw it pressed against the wall “there you are, fucker” you said under your breath, grabbing the book and getting off the chair.

You instantly sat on it with a huff, not even bothering to take off your suit. You took a deep breath and opened the book, scoffing as you saw the autograph again.

The hours passed and you still were reading the book, your eyebrows formed in a deep frown as you did, not believing your own eyes. And when you flipped the last page, you stared at the last words, suddenly feeling how hard it was to breathe, unbuttoning your blouse at the top.

You felt like you were suffocating, having just read you entire fucking college life in a book. Your hands trembled, tears running down your cheeks as you got up, the book still in your hand. You stared at it for a minute, trying to process everything you just read, did she really see you this way? So selfish, so heartless, so cruel.

You were not that way, you had to leave her, for your own good, for your future. You could not be that way, you could not be like her, you just couldn’t, your parents… they would have disowned you, hated you even, she knew that. Why the fuck did she write you this way? Like you were the fucking villain?

Anger filled your body and mind in a second, letting out a broken scream as you threw the book across the room, and then a rush of sadness waved into you, your knees gave out on you, collapsing in the floor, sobbing heavily into your hands as you tried to grasp everything around your head.

How could she do this to you?

She exposed your whole life just like that, like you were nothing but a mere inspiration to get money and fame. And she had the balls to send you a personal copy, like she was making fun of you in the process.

After you got out every emotion from your system you got up and went to wash your face and change into your sleeping clothes. You went to bed, but not before taking some sleeping pills, you knew there was no other way you could rest if it wasn’t with them, as much as you hated them.

“Hey there, doll”

You heard a familiar voice behind you, and without even turning around you chuckled, still a little dizzy from the drinks you’ve taken “hi Aggie”

The brunette girl sat by your side at the stairs, comfortable silence grew between the two of you, the only sound coming from inside of the house, the frat party in it’s peak. You both contemplated the starts on the dark sky for a while, until you broke the silence “it’s beautiful tonight” you whispered without taking your eyes off the atmosphere.

“It is” Agatha agreed with you, but she had her eyes on your side profile, admiring your soft features, how your lips curled into a smile and your eyes glowed before you turned your head to her “come with me” she said standing up from the stairs, her hands reaching for you to take.

“Where to?”

“Don’t you trust me?” She winked at you, causing you to giggle and grab her hand, of course you trusted her, always.

She guided you through the backyard into a forest you didn’t even know there was “Aggs, where are we going?” You asked her nervously, you weren’t a big fan of being in a forest in the middle of the night, so you glued yourself to the slightly taller girl, your arm grabbing hers a little too tight, but she didn’t mind at all.

“It’s ok, we’re not far” she hummed as she kissed your temple and held you close to her in a protective way.

Not even a minute after you arrived into a large plain land, only a big tree in the middle “wow” you looked around, it looked gorgeous, seeing different types of flowers around the area “how did you find this?”

“I come here for my witchery rituals”

You scoffed and turned to her, finding her with a teasing smile and a raised eyebrow “yeah, great joke” you rolled your eyes at her.

“You know I like to take walks, one day I kind of got lost and ended here somehow” Agatha chuckled at the memory, taking your hand in hers again and guiding you to the big tree.

She sat under it, tapping her lap you sat down next to her and laid you head on her lap. You sighed and closed your eyes as she began to stroke your hair, you always felt at peace when she was around. Everyone said she was mean and too sarcastic but you never thought that was true, she wasn’t like that with you at least. And you liked her sarcasm.

“Can I ask you something, pet?” Agatha asked you interrupting your thoughts, you looked up at her and nodded, waiting for her to continue “What will happen to us after finishing college?”

Not this again… you sighed and sat up from her lap, not noticing the pained features from your… friend as you did so “Agatha we talked about this”

“I know but… this is real, what we have, what I feel for you it’s very real” she felt like she was begging for you, and she fucking hated that, she has never, ever, had to beg for anyone.

“Agatha…” you huffed and stood up from the grass, your hands rubbing your face in frustration “since the beginning I told you this was only a fling ok? And you agreed. If my-“ you winced at the thought “if my parents find out… it would be the end of me, they expect me to get married to the perfect man-“

“Steve” it was Agatha’s turn to huff in frustration, the name leaving her lips in a despite tone. She stood up and turned you around, her hands resting on your cheeks “you really think he’s gonna make you happy?”

You didn’t answer her right away, both of you knowing too well what the truth was “that doesn’t matter” you whispered and took her hands off your face.

“It does! It does matter” she grabbed your face again in determination, her forehead resting against yours “the only thing that matters is you here, not them, not whatever they want for you, only what you want”

You looked into her eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay from your own, your breath hitching as you felt hers lips ghost over yours “Aggie…” your voice sounded pained, but before you could say anything else she smashed her lips against yours.

The kiss was harsh at first, Agatha took all her frustration into it, her tongue intruding you mouth, making you moan in surprise at her demeanor. One of her hands snook itself on your waist, pulling your body flush against her. Your hands caressing the back of her neck made her pull away “I’m sorry” she whispered before kissing you again, softer this time.

She knew this was probably going to be the last time she had you like this, and she wanted to savor it, she wanted to make you never forget about it, about her.

Because she was never going to forget about you.

Your tongues swirled together, her hand on your waist gripping you tightly, afraid you were going to pull away at any time, she could feel your tears damping her cheeks, your hearts heavily beating against your ribcages.

And when you pulled away to breath you saw the pain in Agatha’s gaze. You took a step back, putting some distance between you, knowing you would fall for it if she tried to kiss you again.

“I’m so sorry, I’m not-“

“You are not what, huh?”

The blue eyed girl looked at you, her expression changing completely, clenching her jaw as she started at you in challenge.

“I’m not like this… I’m not like you”

“Bullshit! You’re only lying to yourself here”

You shook your head, more tears running down your cheeks “please don’t do this” you let out a broken sob.

“Don’t do what!? Are you kidding me? After being your fucking little secret for two years you have the balls to tell me you’re not like me? What the fuck am I, huh?” You could hear the hurt in her voice, the betrayal, and it only made you sob harder into your hands, this was the last thing you wanted to happen “I hate you”

You woke up with a gasp, immediately sitting up on the bed, your hands going to your heavily beating chest. You tried to ease your breath, wiping a tear that escaped from your eye “it’s alright, it was just a dream” you said to yourself, taking deep breaths as you walked to the bathroom. But it was not just a dream. It was exactly what happened the last time you spoke to Agatha.

You got into the shower, the warm water calming you down instantly. Replaying the scene in your head you slid yourself down the shower wall, hiding your head between your knees. You did her so dirty, you betrayed her, you played with her. You really didn’t mean to, you were a young girl, you wanted to have fun, to feel free before being tied down into the life you were living now.

But you fell deeply for her.

And you didn’t think of the consequences, you were selfish. And god… you were like her, you are and you will always be. You’ve never liked boys, every time Steve touched you it was like fire, you wanted to get away from it as far as possible. His kisses… it were nothing like Agatha’s, her lips here so soft, she tasted so sweet, and her touch, she was so careful with you, so fucking soft, and Steve… he was so rough, so cold doing it, and his beard, the way it scratched your face, you fucking hated it.

“Fuck” you sobbed heavily, your arms hugging your legs to your chest. You fucked up, and only because you wanted to make your parents proud of you, they had your life planned since you were a baby, and you didn’t want to let them down.

But you let yourself down in the process.

You lost yourself.

Maybe you could get your happiness back. You were so tired of living this miserable life, next to a man you didn’t love, in this house you barely could call home, you felt so out of place. But it wasn’t late to redo your story. To make things right, for you.

You could start by talking with Steve, asking for a divorce. And… talk to Agatha, apologize to her.

And you did that, you talked to Steve that very night he arrived home from his trip. It wasn’t easy, and you didn’t tell him the Agatha part of course. You knew he suspected something, but he understood without asking too much and you ended things peacefully.

The next day you saw Agatha was having a book signing event, so you decided to pay her a visit.

You decided to wear something casual but elegant, unconsciously wanting to impress the woman. You threw on some black pants and a purple knit sweater off the shoulder, finishing it with a basic black heels. Looking at the mirror you took a deep breath and straightened your top “ok, you got this”

As you entered the bookstore the anxiety increased inside of you, clutching the book to your chest for some support. You walked around the place searching for her, and then you saw her, stopping on your tracks, your heart skipping a beat as you watched her seated at a table, signing a book while she talked to the overly excited woman before her.

Fuck, she looked even better than on the tv, she looked fucking gorgeous, her brunette hair in it’s wavy and chaotic nature. Your fingers flinched around the book, remembering how soft it felt around them, how she loved when you caressed it while you both laid on the bed, studying or talking about some random thing.

Jesus, focus.

You didn’t even know if she was still single, probably not, and it was ok. You only came here to talk to her and apologize… right?

After 10 minutes of waiting in line it was finally your turn, feeling your heart in your throat you took a step toward her, laying the book in front of her with your shaky hands, her eyes busy reading a paper next to her “do you want some personal-“ she froze mid sentence, shocked when she saw the autograph in your book.

She slowly looked up at you, and when your eyes met it was like the world stopped in the act, only the two of you existed. Agatha stood up from the chair, rounding the table while she never took her eyes off you. When she stood before you her hand tried to reach your cheek but she hesitantly retreated it to her side “is it really you?” She asked you, her eyes scanning your face for reassurance.

“In flesh and blood”

Agatha suddenly grabbed your hand, she whispered something to a woman next to the table before she guided you somewhere to the back of the bookstore. When she pulled you into a room she locked it before she turned to you “I never thought I’d see you again” she said in disbelief, taking a step towards you.

You didn’t hesitate for a second, needing to feel her against you after all this time, your arms wrapped around her “I’m so sorry Agatha” you whispered against her shoulder.

Agatha immediately accepted your hug, sighing into your hair as she squeezed your frame softly. You felt so good, you still smelt so sweetly, so addicting. She relaxed into your arms, feeling your hands rubbing her spine.

She missed you so much.

But… you hurt her. She pulled away, her eyebrows curling into frown “what are you doing here?” Her voice cold all of the sudden, like she was shielding herself from you.

“Agatha…” you tried to get closer again but she took a step back, her features turning in a warning “I came here to apologize. I read your book and… even though it really hurt me I realized how bad I hurt you too in the past” You never left her eyes, trying to tell her with your own you were being sincere “I’m sorry…”

The woman stared at you for a minute, studying you, before she briefly nodded “it’s ok, I apologize too for the things I said in the book”

“You treated me like a villain”

“Well you treated me like trash, so I think we’re even”

You pursed your lips, nodding your head as you started to pace around the room, only realizing it was an office “I know, I was a fool, a stupid girl who only wanted the approbation of my parents. I only wanted wanted to make their dreams come true, not even realizing my dream was… you” the last word escaped your lips in a whisper, the shock of your own confession rooting you on the spot.

Agatha’s mouth fell agape, sucking in a sharp breath, the last thing she expected today was this. To finally see and hear you opening your heart to her, and to yourself.

You turned around to her, seeing her hands clutch her chest, her soft lips slowly curling into a small smile “I know you didn’t expect me to come here, and tell you this, but I needed to, and I wanted to tell you that I’m getting my life back. I’m going to take the reins of my life and be true to myself. And I know that you probably are not interested in me anymore, or still hate me, and I won’t judge you. Maybe you’re in a relationship and I don’t want to confuse y- mphh!”

Agatha, tired of hearing your rambling, grabbed you by the waist and smashed her lips against yours. Just like the last time you kissed, but this time she knew this was the first of many.

Your hands flew to her shoulders to steady yourself, shocked for a moment. But when Agatha’s tongue stroked your lips for entrance you let her, humming into her mouth as your hands travelled to her cheeks.

“Fuck, I missed you, pet” she whispered against your lips, making you smile at the pet name before kissing her again. Her soft lips danced against yours while she slowly backed you up against the office desk, her hands sneaking into your sweater, goosebumps erupting your skin as she stroked your bare back.

Then suddenly a knock startled you both, making her pull away from you “Miss. Harkness, the five minute break is up”

Agatha groaned in frustration, and you hid your laugh behind your hand “wait outside for me, ok? I’ll go in a minute” she sighed before kissing your cheek.

“But what about all that people?” You asked her. Referring to all the fans waiting for her to sign their books.

“Whatever, I’m tired to signing books that will be resold in some random web for way too much money” Agatha said with disdain, rolling her eyes and waving her hands dramatically.

You watched her leave the room after sending you a wink, still chuckling at her antics.

Oh, how you’ve missed her.

Without bringing too much attention, you left the book shop and waited the woman on the parking lot, leaning against your car and hugging your arms tightly at the chilly air.

After a few minutes you saw her walk towards you, her arms opening for you, making you smile and instantly falling into her welcoming embrace. You stayed like that for a while, your face hiding into her neck as you took in her scent, her fresh, floral scent that always made you dizzy.

“So… no more Steve?” Agatha asked you, pushing you away softly as she tuck your hair behind your ear, taking in your features.

“No more Steve” you said to her, chuckling.

Agatha sighed in relief. She asked you to go to her place with her, and you of course accepted.

As soon as you arrived to her house, Agatha was all over you, pulling you against her frame, her kisses becoming needy as she guided you down the hallway to the stairs.

“Agatha, we should talk” you told her, your breath trying to ease while she trailed her kisses down your jaw.

“I know” her voice hushed between kisses you almost didn’t hear her.

“Then stop” you let out a giggle, trying not to trip over the stairs as she guided you up.

When you arrived to the second floor the woman pushed you back against the corridor wall softly, her nose rubbing against yours as she looked into your eyes “do you really want me to?” She hummed, leaving little pecks all around your face.

No, you really didn’t. It’s been so long since you felt this way, twelve years to be exact, the way she ran her hands all over your body even with the barrier of your clothes, the way she kissed you so sweetly, so desperate.

“No” you whispered to her, pulling her into another kiss. You could talk later, anyway.

Agatha chuckled against your lips, pulling you into her bedroom. She kicked the door with her foot and dragged you towards the bed, her hands pushing the sweater over your chest, you helped her take it off, giggling as she took in your barely covered chest, her fingers caressing the lace fabric of your bra.

Your hands worked on unbuttoning her shirt as Agatha continued to explore your skin with her fingertips, an when they reached your waist she suddenly shoved you on the mattress, earning a surprised yelp from you “you don’t know how many times I’ve dreamt of this very moment”

Agatha discarded her shirt while her eyes burned into yours “countless nights with so many women, and only being able to think about you, trying to imagine they were you”

You breath hitched at her words, the thought of her with other women, but with you in her mind made your insides burn in desire “they were never like you, no one can compare to you”

“Aggie” you whined her name needy, watching as she crawled on the bed after she took off her pants, a smirk in her lips as she ghosted them over your skin on your stomach and chest.

“Tell me…” she hummed softly, her hands working on pulling you out of your pants “did Steve make you come like I did?” Her eyebrow raised at you, seeing how you only shook your head “you know I like words, pet”

“No” you huffed at her, feeling her hand travel to your back, unclasping your bra with too much ease “he never-“ a gasp interrupted you, Agatha’s mouth closing around your nipple.

“He never what? Mh?” She fucking knew what she was doing, her knee pressing up against your center, making you go mad under her touch, torturing you.

She watched you struggle to let any word out, breathing heavily while she toyed with your breasts, nipping and sucking one and pinching the other. She could feel the wet spot on your panties against her knee, your hips rolling on it trying to get some friction, loving how desperate you were for her already.

“Come on… you can say it, beautiful” she said pouting her lips at you, almost as if she was mocking you, and she was. It made you huff at her, a scoff appearing on your features “oh no, none that” she grabbed your jaw, her tone in a warning “behave, alright?”

You nodded making the woman hum in satisfaction “he never has made me come” you whispered out the words, redness creeping up your neck and cheeks, feeling embarrassed at the fact that, in ten years, only you’ve been able to satisfy yourself.

“Aw, my poor thing” Agatha kissed your cheek, she actually felt bad for you. She couldn’t imagine to be stuck with a man for ten years, having to satisfy him almost every night. But she was going to make it up for you “must have been pretty frustrating, mh?”

“Yes” you whined as she started nipping at your neck, your hand going into her wavy hair, your hips rolling into hers unconsciously “Aggie?” You called for her, causing the woman to look at you, pecking your lips in a soft way.

“What do you want, pet?” She already knew, of course she knew, but she wanted to hear you say it, she needed to hear it from you.

“Touch me, please” your eyes stared into her blue ones “make me feel good” she smiled at you, letting out a chuckle before she kissed you.

Her tongue explored your mouth while she helped you taking off your lace panties, leaving you completely bare before her. You immediately wrapped your leg round her hip, feeling her fingers dancing down your belly painfully slow. When she reached your mound, slipping her index finger in your clit you both moaned.

She trailed her lips down your chest, her fingers rubbing your wetness all over your lips and clit “you’re soaking wet, and I barely touched you” she breathed out, leaving kisses and bites all over your figure. Your back arched to wards her, only being able to let out low moans as she kept playing with your clit, you hips moving against her hand “stay still” she kissed your hip, her free hand pushing them down as she made herself comfortable between your legs.

Fuck. The sight of her kissing your thighs, her eyes never leaving yours, it made you clench around nothing. Just realizing how much you have really missed having her like this, making you heavenly desperate for her. Not being able to think properly, only with her clouding your mind.

And when you felt her tongue lick between your lips back to your clit you whole mind and body crumbled. Your head snapping back into the pillow as you let out a loud gasp, hearing Agatha moan into you “fuck, I missed how good you tasted, doll”

She became feral in that moment, eating you up like a mad woman, sucking and nipping at your clit. Loving every sound she pulled from you, how your hands clutched her sheets tightly, trying not to move your hips, obeying to her.

Her name came from your lips in a cry, two fingers pushing inside of you without a warning. She chuckled against your clit at your state, making your body shiver from the vibrations.

You looked so cute, your mouth parted as you tried to control your breathing, eyes closed shut and eyebrows turned into a little frown. Your hand interlocked into her hair, pulling her closer into you, she would have slapped it away in any other situation. But you looked so fucked out already, she let it be, absolutely loving how tight you were clenching around her.

Her fingers in a slow pace, making you whine “if you want anything, you just have to ask for it” she hummed, leaving a kiss over your mound.

“P-please-“ you let out a broken gasp, her teeth biting at your clit “f-fuck, harder, please” you managed you breathe out, damning the woman for making you feel this way.

“Good girl” she hummed proudly, her fingers pumping harder into you, hearing your loud moans as she curled them. Her tongue licking patterns on your clit, a six letter word, Agatha, marking you as hers with the action.

You left the knot on your lower stomach tighten, your hips giving out on you and riding against the woman “fuck, I’m so close Aggie” you whined out, your legs starting to tremble around her.

When you felt her pace fasten, her sucking your clit it drove you to the edge, your orgasm exploding in powerful waves, your body stiffen against her, letting out her name in a broken moan. Agatha guided you through your high, her fingers continuing their slow pace, her lips kissing all over your thigh as she praised you “did so good for me”, “that’s it, good girl”

You weakly pulled her hand away when it became too much, hissing at the loss of contact. She kissed her way up your body, stopping face to face, admiring your flushed state, your breath trying to ease as you opened your eyes slowly to look at her, a faint smile appearing in your lips “hi” you giggled softly.

“Hello beautiful” she chuckled with you, kissing all over your face. You hummed before pulling her into a kiss, moaning when you tasted yourself on her tongue.

She laid by your side, pulling you close to her while she kept kissing you. You interlocked your leg with hers, pulling away from her to breathe. And the two of you stayed like that, your thumb stroking her cheek while her fingers draw the same six letter pattern of before on your waist.

“you’re not running away again, right?”

You could hear the fear in her voice, and it made your heart ache “I won’t, I promise I’m not going anywhere”

Agatha believed you, a smile curling in her lips as she pulled you incredibly close to her, her head sneaking in your neck “good, because I don’t want to write a whole other book about it to make you come back” she mumbled playfully into your skin, feeling your shoulders shake against her as you laughed.

And she laughed with you, both of you feeling like those twenty year old girls in college again.

Two idiots in love with each other.

#agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha all along #x reader #agatha harkness x you #x you #fanfic #smut #angst #angst with a happy ending

461 notes · View notes

jo-com · 7 months ago

Note

Welp I just read the other woman and j needed a second part! Like either a good or bad ending

I am in such need 🙏🙏🙏

⋆｡˚ 🩹༝༚➛ Healed

Charles Leclerc x Ex!fem!reader x Alexandra Saint Mieux

Summary: Part 2 of The other woman

Genre: Jealous Charles and Alex, A little bit of SMAU, Angsty but also fluff

Fc: Alexa Demie

Note: Thanks for the support for the first part!! Hope you guys like this

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

─────── ─ ༘˚⋆🍯 ｡⋆─ ───────

After endless months of isolation and loneliness— you’ve decided to finally move on and slowly let yourself be free from the traumatic experience, that you once called ‘love’.

While moving on doesn’t mean that you’ve erased them from your heart— they’re still there, alongside the precious memories that the three of you all shared. Those moments that were both good and bad, will forever be embedded into your heart and soul.

You’ve also been trying to put yourself out more; Going out with friends and spending more time with family.

But at the same time, building back the walls that they have broken— by treating and loving yourself in a way that they used to do but stopped half way. It was now time for you to heal and find solace by your own.

From buying comfort foods to expensive things, it all made you a tiny bit better. The hurt was still evident but was now slowly fading into a memory— a memory that you wish to forget.

Only by loving yourself will make amends from the broken heart that they have caused.

…

Then unexpectedly you met someone. Two people actually.

You said love will never bloom again but meeting them says otherwise. Your once dead heart was now slowly opening up to someone again, it was hard at first, but they made sure that you are as comfortable and safe around their embrace.

…

Alex_albon

Liked by lilymhe, Landonorris, and 2,489,012 others

Alex_albon finally found our other half🌷

Tagged; @Miss.yn, @lilymhe

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Username1 EXCUSE ME??

Username2 sir what??

Carlossainz55 so glad that you’re happy @/Miss.yn

Miss.yn they make me happy!

Lilymhe aww babyy🥹

Alex_albon @/Miss.yn💋💋💋

Username3 finally someone who doesn’t hide her in the dark🙄

Username4 Fr she deserved better

Username5 why is she alway leeching of on couples

Sydney_sweeney FINALLY

Username6 i love them alrdy

Username7 in the shadows no more!!

…

➛ Message (Between Alex and Charles)

…

Alex’s post blowed up in all the social media platforms; leaving people curious and wanting for more information. For them it was an unexpected match, no one ever thought about it, but seeing you guys together just felt right in a way.

You were also surprised at their reaction, thinking that they would be against it like in your past relationships. I mean there were still haters but there are more people supporting you than before. You were so happy.

Everything was going great— you’re heart felt full once again and you were no longer hiding in the shadows; you were, you and were loved by two people who aren’t afraid to show you off.

It was all doing okay, well not until Alex and Charles contacted you; asking you if you were doing well and chatting other formalities as if you guys were okay. They never did do that when you guys broke up, not a single “are you okay?” Text from either one of them.

Now when you’re finally happy they decided to talk? Tsk

…

You let out a heavy sigh, a feeling of relief crashing down on you. Closures were never your thing but in this case, it was freeing. You were no longer in the shackles of sorrow that they’ve made. You were free.

A smile of contentment stretched along your face— your thoughts running back to you two new lovers who were there for you, through lows and highs.

…

Miss.yn

Liked by lilymhe, Carlossainz55 and 4,290,129 others

Miss.yn Meeting you guys is a dream come true🫀

Tagged; @lilymhe, @Alex_albon

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Lilymhe STOP I AM BLUSHING🤭

Lilymhe I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU

Username8 take notes on how to love someone @/Charles_Leclerc

Alexandrasaintmieux so happy for u..

Username9 now this is love!

Username10 i hope this love last🤩

Alex_albon my two babies🌷

Miss.yn 😍😍😍

Lilymhe STOP YN IS MINE

Username11 HELP WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABT THE LAST PIC??

Username12 fr they lowkey making out and don’t give a shit😭😭

…

Sorry for not updating so much, my school started and it’s hard to multitask, I promise to do more🙏🏻

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bratphilia · 1 year ago

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glass window (w. afton x reader)

request: "POOHKIE BEAR HEAR ME OUT!!!! dad's best friend!william. y'all just moved into the neigborhood, and you've been oh so busy with college/working that you hadn't had the time to introduce yourself to william (tho steve for the sake of keeping his identity yada yada) and so like, the moment you get the chance to? william aka steve cannot contain his thoughts abt you oml !! ur just so fucking pretty !! delicate !! those fucking skirts you wear, in the summers of utah (i think thats where the movie/fnaf location is canonically) he'd so.. hungry for you.. bonus points if theres a height/size difference omg JUST HEAR ME OUT POOHKIE!!!- i'll be going under as the 🧚‍♀️ anon!"

note: okay yeah i went a lil crazy with this one but i just loved this request sm. probably my favorite fic ive written so far.

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader

tags: age gap (reader is college age 18-21 and william is 45-50), creepy and stalking behavior from william, oral sex (m + f receiving), slight dubcon, doggy style, mating press, multiple orgasms, william having insane stamina at his age

you and your parents just moved to hurricane, utah, aka the most boring town you've ever been to. the second day in your new house, while you were at your criminology class, your neighbor, steve raglan came by to welcome your family to the neighborhood. they mentioned having a college aged daughter. he didn't think much about at the time. it was a passing comment after all.

a few weeks pass by and steve started to become a frequent visitor to your household. however, each of those times you have either been at school or at work. he had no idea who you are.

that is, until one day you come home in the evening after a class while steve is over having a glass of wine with your dad. you close the door behind you to see the door to the backyard open. curiously, you poke your head out and spot your dad with an unfamiliar face, and you stand shyly in the doorway expectantly.

"hey, sweetie," your dad says. "this is steve raglan. our next door neighbor i was telling you about."

you walk towards him when steve holds his hand out for you to shake. "nice to meet you, mr. raglan."

mr. raglan. his ears practically perk up at that. he drinks in your appearance. you're wearing a black, short tennis skirt that stops mid-thigh with a pretty white blouse.

"nice to meet you too," he says politely, trying his hardest not to come across as creepy.

your dad turns to you. "how was class?"

"it was okay. i do have a lot of homework to do, so i should probably go," you say, then turn to steve and wave as you go, "it was nice to meet you again."

his eyes never leave your bare legs as you walk away. and well, he wanted to fucking ruin you.

steve notices something interesting about you while mowing the lawn. there's a gate in the back of your house where he can see a glass door from the angle he's at in the front of his yard. a glass door that, he discovers, is the back entrance to your bedroom.

he decides to make good use of his porch.

at this point, he contemplates buying a pair of binoculars, but that felt like a little too much. for now, he had the view he needed to satisfy him. he even took a few photos that he saves for material to use in his personal time.

unbeknownst to you, steve is absolutely obsessed with you.

his heart skips a beat every time you take a walk in the neighborhood, when, coincidentally, he's sitting on the porch pretending to read a newspaper, and you wave at him and smile. he always returns your smile and waves back kindly.

one day, when you're walking past his house, he notices something gold falling to the ground. when you're out of sight, he goes to investigate, only to find a gold ring that could have only belonged to you. the perfect opportunity. steve waits about a week and keeps your ring with him on top of his nightstand.

sometimes, he notices you like to leave your door open on a particularly hot day. surely you couldn't be naïve to think no one would break in, right? you're just so pretty, who knows who could follow you home from the shadows.

on one particularly hot day, you leave your door open. almost invitingly. and steve watches as your mom's car passes by his house, going out, while he knows for a fact that your dad is working. it's his time to strike.

steve makes his way across the street and through the back gate. he looks through the window to find you reading a book while sitting on your bed. he taps on the glass to get your attention. your eyes snap from the book to the door to see him standing there.

"hi, uhm, can i help you, mr. raglan?" you say, getting up. you look shocked, clearly a little freaked out he came through the back of your house, he presumes.

steve smiles and walks in uninvited, making you back up a little as he steps closer. "hi stranger, i just wanted to return something of yours that you dropped a few days ago."

he turns up the ring in his hand and watches your eyes widen. "i've been looking all over for this! thank you so much."

steve watches as you take the ring from his palm and slip it back on your finger. "you know, i've been wondering something."

you look up at him. "what's that?"

he chuckles lightly and closes the door behind him. "i can't help but notice that you like to leave your door open, and i just wonder how you possibly think that's safe for you."

"i—i don't know what you mean," you say, confused. you fidget with ring on your finger nervously, not liking the direction this conversation is going in.

"well, you know just about anyone could come in here and take advantage of you. you wouldn't want that, hmm?" he asks, stepping towards you and cupping your jaw. "or maybe you would. is that why you do it?"

you inhale. "mr. raglan, i don't think this is appropriate—"

"neither is the way you've been teasing me, little girl," steve retorts and you flash him a scandalized look. "oh, come on, don't think i don't notice. your short skirts showing off that even tinier figure and the way you always seem so eager to get my attention. i know the game you're playing."

he cups your jaw as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip for entrance. you grant him access and he slips his tongue into your mouth. it's a slow, sensual kiss. you're moaning into his mouth as he takes full control.

steve's hands travel from your face, to your waist, and to your ass to squeeze. you whimper into his mouth and he laughs lowly against you.

slowly he breaks away from you. "take off your clothes and get on the bed on all fours. now."

you make a show of taking off your clothes for him. you keep eye contact with him as you unbutton your shirt and discard it mindlessly. then you reach around your back to unclasp your bra, baring your chest to him.

"beautiful," he comments. "take off your panties but keep the skirt on."

you do what he says and get in the lewd position steve requested a moment ago, mind racing with what he would possibly do to you. you grip the sheets almost nervously and rub your thighs together to relieve the tension in your core.

steve practically saunters over to you and gives a low whistle. "such a pretty pussy."

you blush realizing your skirt rode up to your waist. you shiver when he places a cold hand on your ass, kneeding it roughly.

"ooh," you moan, arching your back needily, making him laugh.

"need it that bad, huh, baby?"

"yes," you say quietly, turning head around to look at him.

"don't worry, honey, i'll take good care of you," he says with a twisted smile.

he leans forward to press a kiss on your slit, moaning at the wetness that drips onto his lips. he wastes absolutely no time eating you out and laps at your pussy like a starving man. you can't bear to look at him anymore, the obscene noises of him slurping causing your face to burn with embarrassment.

you can't help but push back against his face much to his delight. you can feel his beard scratching against you, as delicious as you imagined. the friction of him smothering his face into you is making you whimper and moan helplessly. you wish you could grasp onto him or close your thighs, but this position and being completely at his disposal makes it all the more hotter.

he smacks kisses on your clit, sucking and rolling the sensitive nub around with his tongue. one particular harsh suck where he tugs on your clit ever so gently with his teeth has you coming on his face. he keeps going until you're squirming and begging him to stop.

he pulls away from you almost remorsefully. "thanks for the meal, babe," he says, wiping his mouth. something that would have otherwise made you cringe in disgust if it didn't come from him.

"ready for my cock, sweet girl?" he asks.

you can only murmur out a "mhm" as you were already too fucked out to verbalize anything.

he just laughs at your disposition. "don't get too tired on me yet, sweetheart, i still have so much planned for you."

the clinking of metal gets you excited all over again. he pushes into you with a groan. "fuckin' tight like a vice," he curses.

he thrusts into you experimentally, gaging your reaction for which angle makes you moan the loudest. when he finds the right one, he picks up the tempo instantly. your room is filled with the noises of his balls smacking against your ass, his grunts and your incessant moaning. he wraps a hand in your hair and the other rests on your hip for leverage.

"you like that, baby? like the feeling of me inside you?" steve asks you teasingly but you can barely respond. "fuck, you feel so good around me. my good girl."

"please, let me come," you whine desperately, bucking your hips backwards so it meets his thrusts.

"i will, honey, i will."

suddenly he flips you over so you're on your back and bends your legs in half. the manhandling is an added bonus. "i want you to look at me when you come, okay?"

"okay..." you mumble, letting him use your pussy for whatever he pleases at this point.

one specifically hard and calculated thrust has you reeling. your orgasm is definitely in sight. you can feel your stomach begin to coil, ready to snap.

"mr. raglan!" you draw out the syllables of his name, signifying you're close.

"ngh — keep calling me that, honey, it's so fuckin' hot."

you can feel him close as well as his grunts and groans grow louder and his thrusts get more erratic and shallow. he decides to drill into you even harder for the sake of your own orgasm, making you almost scream out his name as you squeeze your eyes shut and come.

he pulls out before he finishes and beckons you over to him. "suck me dry, baby. want you to taste yourself on me when i come."

tiredly, you sit up and take is cock into your mouth. since he's already close he takes the initiative to thrust into your mouth while you gag around him. the noises you're making only add to his arousal.

he's grunting incoherent dirty praises, about how good and tight your mouth feels, and how you're such a good girl for him. he comes with one final, drawn out groan as he throws his head back. spurts of his ejaculate shoot down your throat and you try your best to swallow what he gives you, but some dribble down your chin.

you pull your mouth off of him and he brings his lips to your for another kiss, licking the remnants of his orgasm from your lips and chin. when you pull away breathlessly he's grinning from ear to ear.

"so good f'me," he compliments sweetly, making you smile.

maybe hurricane isn't so bad after all.

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf smut #fnaf x reader #steve raglan #william afton #steve raglan x reader #william afton x reader #william afton smut #fnaf movie #matthew lillard #matthew lillard x reader #william laughs evilly during sex. its canon #🧚‍♀️

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sheep-from-rad · 14 days ago

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[[Disclaimer]]: this fic is not meant to offend anyone who practices. Thank you. Also most headcanons I wrote here are the ones that I know. Lastly, in addition to the previous sentence, my knowledge might not be the same as what other people do. Not every practice is the same and thus should not be generalized. Thank you again :D dividers by: @adornedwithlight

. . . Okay but imagine a Witch! Yuu getting transported/isekai-d to Twisted Wonderland instead

Witch! Yuu who spends breaks and vacant periods studying about the new world in the library. From time to time Professor Trein will join them for tea and discussions. I like to think that Professor Trein and maybe even Lilia will personally take Witch! Yuu into a mentorship. Yuu learns about the magic and history of Twisted Wonderland and they share knowledge about their own world. I can also see Malleus and Riddle joining this. Not every practitioner chooses to work with deities, angels, or infernals (because like I said, every practice is unique) but discussing them with these people will be really fun. Fun like eye opening and fun like existential crisis inducing.

Witch! Yuu who was met by a raised eyebrow from Master Crewel when they started using moonwater on their potion. Master Crewel initially hesitated but their potion came out great and the effect is even greater. Soon enough after being told to remain after class, Crewel now makes and tests moonwater on other potions. Vil who learnt that moonwater is good for skin had also started using it on his routine, using it for morning and night face wash. Moonwater also became a debate to Octavinelle members especially by Azul and Jade. The idea of living inside a powerful source of magic and not harnessing it properly, Azul felt like he was cheated and felt like he just lost imaginary madols.

Witch! Yuu who bonds a lot with Sam. The two can spend hours trying the decks and providing free readings to the customers (and pitching them to buy the deck). It started as a small gimmick due to the oversupply of cards but now it has become a permanent addition to the shop and Witch! Yuu gets at least 15% cut to each card sale and store discount.

Witch! Yuu who aces their biology lessons because of their knowledge of herbs. They have traded notes with the other first years and were even approached by higher year students who have hard time memorizing. Ace jokingly tried Witch!Yuu to make those paid tutorial notes but Witch! Yuu doesn’t want to dethrone Azul’s business. The land around Ramshackle turned out to be rich enough to have herbs and vegetables buried around it. Ruggie gets his fair share of harvest too, in exchange for a watering job. Whenever there’s a leftover in the harvest, Witch!Yuu makes tea brews for their friends, personalized for their needs.

Witch! Yuu who has Cater on their top contact because he provides them with the monthly moon phases and astrological phenomenon around Twisted Wonderland. Cater too had to ask permission from Riddle every week so him and the Witch! Yuu can meet at the NRC observatory for moon gazing and stargazing sessions. The weekly moon gazing and Witch! Yuu’s company made Cater’s self-talk kinder and he also gained more following because of the beautiful night sky pictures he posts every week.

Witch! Yuu who tags along with Jade on his mountain hiking trips. Jade is mostly there to pick up new mushrooms while Witch! Yuu is out there to pick up bones and crystals. Sam has a sale of those in this shop but there’s a certain excitement in picking your own stuff, immersing yourself in nature, and it also helps them familiarize and map out places in Twisted wonderland. Jade may or may not have tried pursuing them to join the Octavinelle group.

Witch! Yuu who buried a protection jar to places where overblot happened (minus dwarves’ mine). Witch! Yuu doesn’t know if Crowley ever looks back to the places where each incident happened so they took it upon themselves to make a move. Heartslabyul’s protection jar is buried under the rose hedge. Savanaclaw’s protection jar is buried under the benches (they can’t put it right on the field because it can break and that’s dangerous for the players). Octavinelle’s protection jar is hidden inside the vault, Witch! Yuu gave it to them after the incident.

Scarabia’s jar is hidden inside the treasure room. No one really goes there so it’s safe. If ever someone tries to go there, the Magic carpet is tasked to either hide it or take it away and fly away. Pomefiore gets two jar: One for the overblot location (Coliseum) and one for Pomefiore dorm. The coliseum’s jar is hidden in some unknown location behind the stage and the Pomefiore’s jar is buried in the woods. It’s hard to slip back into Ignihyde’s dorm without alerting anyone which is why their jar is on Ortho’s safekeeping. Diasomnia gets two jars as well. One is buried in the castle basement and one is given to Lilia.

Witch! Yuu created one for Ramshackle as well. They gave it to the ghosts for safekeeping. Witch! Yuu hopes that it keeps Grim safe even when they have already left Twisted Wonderland.

#twst x reader #twst wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst yuu #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x you #twisted wonderland x mc #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twst x you #twst x yuu #twst x mc #twisted wonderland headcanons

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j0hnpr1c3sm1ssus · 2 months ago

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FICMAS - DAY 6 - SECRET SANTA

Title: Secret Santa

Synopsis: You have *no* clue what to get one of your two boyfriends for Christmas for secret santa

Warnings: This is m/m/f. That's really it?

AN: This WAS made with like... one mutual in mind, and I will continue to write JohnSimonReader because OML the concept is fun. Anyways eat. OH AND THIS WAS THE ONLY IMAGE OF THEM I COULD FIND?

"Out the 'at, c'mon," Simon shakes the cap--Kyle's hat he always wears on missions--with the little names on it. You pick a name, not opening it yet.

Once everyone has a name, John's voice is heard, "'Right, everyone. All you 'ave t'do is buy a gift, limit being £40 in price, for the person on your slip o'paper by Christmas Eve."

You nod, along with the other men, and John adjourns the meeting.

As soon as you're in your quarters, you're reading your slip of paper.

Simon. One of your two boyfriends in your cursed little love circle.

You huff, unsure of what to get him, so you phone John. "John?" You answer the phone as soon as he picks up.

"Yes, dovie?" He responds, a little confused, "Everythin's okay?"

"Yes, it's about Si. What.. what do I get him for Christmas?"

A bark of laughter escapes his lips, "So *tha's* who ya got? I'd reckon you dressin' up in some nice little lingerie would work just fine."

You huff out and roll those pretty little eyes, scoffing, "John! I need to get him an *actual* gift."

"Take pictures--wallet sized, yeah? He'd like that."

You scoff again and shake you head, before John adds, "I'd like tha' as well, yeah?"

He laughs and smirks and you can practically hear that smirk through the phone, "Goodbye, John."

"Oh- come on, lovie! Don't even act like tha's not true," He tries to respond, "I love you?"

You chuckle, getting up to pace, "Love you too, John. You and Simon should come to my dorm, we'll cuddle until Simon's asleep and you and I can talk Christmas some more."

He huffs out a laugh, "Cuddle," he says like it's impossible. You hang up the phone and sigh, sitting down on your bed.

What *could* you get Simon? I mean, he's so... avoidant of gifts. Maybe a good coat? Maybe an inside joke?

You rack your brain so hard it could explode as you wait for Simon and John to come back to your quarters for your nightly cuddle before it dawns on you.

*A kiss the cook apron.*

He loves those, always making jokes and no matter if you are or are not all deployed, John doesn't cook because Simon won't let you or him *anywhere* near the kitchen. He'd *love* it.

Cut to the exchange day, and everyone is laughing and excited. Why wouldn't they be?

You present to Simon is wrapped nicely in one of those shirt boxes they sell, it has a pretty bow and a nicely written name tag.

Your gift was from Johnny and was a new mug so you "stop stealing his," which made you laugh.

Kyle got from John a proper coat, because everyone knows that that man does NOT take care of himself.

Kyle got Johnny a pair of thick gloves for work so his hands don't get worse.

Then Simon opens his gift, while you're curled up on John's lap. You're biting you lip, looking nervous.

Then he sees the apron, unfolding it and letting out a laugh. He never laughs, so everyone looked *incredibly* surprised, but he showed it off.

And of course he knew it was you, so he tossed John his gift and opened his arms for you.

He got John an eye mask, so he'd stop complaining about how dark it is, and hopefully stop snoring as much.

You end up snuggled up to Simon's side, everyone chatting about. You steal a sip from John's got cocoa, and he comes over and wraps his arms around both of you in a bear hug.

Simon leans down and whispers into your ear, "I promise 'll use your gift, dovie."

You lean up with a grin, kissing his cheek, "Thanks, Si."

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navstuffs · 2 years ago

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Traffic stop

Pairing: Rookie!Leon Kennedy x BustyF!Reader

Summary: Your sports bra malfunctions during a traffic stop with a shy rookie cop.

Warnings: au obvs, happens in raccoon city, wrote with a busty reader in mind but anyone can read it, shy!leon, accidental exposure, suggestive themes, speeding (DRIVE SAFE PEOPLE!!)

Author's Notes: kudos to my husband for giving me the idea/title. if anyone would like to write a smut version of this, i also wouldn't mind, just let me know! i do have another plan for re2 leon in works cause he is my baby. hope you enjoy your reading!

my leon's masterlist | part 2

It is still hot, you think as you exit the gym after an exhausting leg day. You decide to wear your sports bra while driving home since your car's air conditioner has not worked since you bought it. You always think you will have money to fix it or even buy a new car, but you must work with what you have now.

You sigh, throwing your bag and your shirt on the backseat. The pain in your legs will only worsen, so you decide to drive fast to get home, shower, and relax. And oh, yes, hope the wind provides some sort of comfort on your face. Placing your sunglasses in your eyes, you start going, mentally praying you wouldn't see any cop.

But of course, this isn't your lucky day.

Not even ten minutes on the road, the sound of the siren from a car of Raccoon City P.D. is behind you. You groan an audible no, asking mentally what you did to deserve this.

"Perfect. Great," Your murmur.

You pull into a nearby parking lot, take the paperwork from the glove compartment and throw it in the passenger seat, the air already getting stagnant inside the car, making you sweat.

Your eyes roam to the rearview mirror, wondering where the heck that cop was, when you notice the zipper of your sports bra is half open. You attempt to zip it, but it immediately unzips it again, leaving half of your cleavage exposed. You think it doesn't look bad, so you leave it alone. It is not like you were driving topless anyway.

With droplets of sweat on your forehead, you see the cop coming out in your driver-side mirror. Finally, you think as he takes his sweet time to get to you. He looks young. He seems to take a breath before walking to your car, pulling his pants up and his other hand on his gun, and even someone who doesn't understand anything about cops would know this guy is a rookie.

He approaches slowly and carefully, analyzing your old car, and when he finally stops by your window, the first thing you catch is a pair of innocent blue eyes. Staring right at you.

"Good afternoon, ma'am." You read the name tag Leon Kennedy as his eyes go from your face to your sports bra half open. Officer Leon probably has a great view since your car is on the lower side. He gulps, you don't know if nervousness or something else, then stares directly above your head.

"Afternoon."

"Do you know how fast you were going?" Oh, this one is definitely a rookie, with his voice still showing some nervousness.

"Yeap, I know."

You really don't want to prolong this more than it should, and the way Leon Kennedy seems to stare everywhere except you proves he wants the same.

"Look. I was just trying to get home. Just issue the ticket, and I will be on my way. I will behave, I promise."

That clearly sounded more seductive than you meant to be. You don't judge yourself as a woman who could get out of a ticket by flirting; honestly, you didn't care at this moment. Your whole body is getting sweaty and sticky, with a few drops of sweat coming down from your neck, and your legs are literally pulsating with pain. It is worth trying.

And just for the right timing, you feel a single drop of sweat coming down from your neck to your cleavage. Leon Kennedy's blue eyes follow the trail until the drop disappears inside your bra top, and he gulps, licking his lips.

Well, you may be one of those women who can get away from a ticket by flirting.

"License and breas— I mean, car registration, please."

Leon thanks mentally you don't seem to hear his mispronunciation. You grunt, impatience, turning to grab your documents for Leon. When you turn back at him to hand them, your zipper finally gives up, opening it up completely. It is a nice feeling at first, the same feeling you have from having your boobs released after a long day.

For a moment, you both don't move, too mortified. Officer Leon Kennedy is now staring, really staring, at your boobs. He doesn't even attempt to look away, his face entirely red as a tomato. Your immediate reaction is to try to close the zipper, but it seems it had enough. Leon finally turns around, mumbling an apology.

"I am sorry, I am so sorry, Officer!" You groan as you give up on zipping, going for the shirt under your bag in the back seat.

"It-it is fine!" Leon rushes to say, his voice going high a few tones. If this wasn't embarrassing as it was, you would have laughed at the poor rookie's reaction. But now, great, you were probably going to be arrested for public indecency. You finally find a towel, a medium one, that might work. You cover yourself as best as you can.

After Leon gives you a few moments of privacy, he turns back to face you, and you know, by the expression on his face, you are doomed. You were probably getting arrested for trying to seduce a cop-out of a ticket.

"You can go, ma'am."

"What? Like that?" You wonder before stopping yourself.

"Well, y-yeah. I can see you have much bigger problems to deal with it. Have a good day."

Leon gives you one good final look, a strange glow in his eyes. It seems he wants to say something else, but the moment passes. Leon gives you a slight smirk, his face still red, and walks back to his car.

You watch Leon drive away, your gazes somewhat crossing before he disappears into traffic. You sigh, the external heat forgotten, hoping this isn't your last encounter with Leon Kennedy.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x female reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x female reader #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy fanfics #leon kennedy imagine #I REALLY WANTED TO MAKE THIS A SMUT but i can't #my brain is like pdffftt #the other re2 leon i have is smut

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dailynnt · 2 months ago

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FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE

⊹ Summary: Jungkook and you, his childhood friend, live together in an apartment, sharing space as roommates. Your relationship, built on years of friendship, is gradually becoming strained by growing sexual tension. You decide to become friends with benefits, trying not to complicate your feelings. But Jungkook's world is not so simple. When you begin to realize that he is hiding something, you open the veil of his double life - a world of mafia, criminal activity, and risk that could ruin not only your deal, but everything you valued in each other.

⊹ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader

⊹ Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hoseok.

⊹ 🔞 Age restrictions: 18+

⊹ 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤

⊹ 📘 Number of part: 25/?

⊹ 🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words. Tags will be added as the story is written.

⊹ 👩🏼‍💻 From the author: There is nothing special in this part except for the development of the plot. But it's an important part of the story. As always, I am full of hope that you are still enjoying this story!

⊹ 🫂 Dedication: Dedicate this work to my darling @myjungkookthighs I so appreciate all your love for my story and your endless support. This story is for you.💜🥰

⊹ ⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!

⊹ 📋 Tag list: @myjungkookthighs, @notsevenwithyou (If anyone wants to be in my tag list let me know)

≣ Chapter Index ↓

Part 9: Knows what no one else knowing.

The shopping center was glowing with the glow of holiday lights. In the middle of the center, in the main lobby, stood a large Christmas tree. It was decorated with golden ornaments and shone with white garlands that almost exactly resembled snowflakes. The shops in the mall were crowded with people who mostly came to buy gifts.

You met Suyong in a leather accessories store. She was looking for a gift for her mother.

You didn't know what exactly you wanted to give your parents, so you decided to just shop around to find the right thing. Suyong suggested that after shopping, we go to a coffee shop and have a cup of hot chocolate, which she also loves.

After walking several floors and visiting almost 20 stores, you finally bought your gifts. You settled on a wonderful Sulwhasoo facial care set and a Pandora bracelet for your mother. You bought Korean honey liqueur for your father, which he loved, and new cufflinks. You also bought Lindt chocolates and Korean sweets (hangwa) for both parents. Your mom just loves them.

You were surprised to see that Jungkook transferred 600 thousand to your card instead of 300 thousand as you asked. Because you need to return this money, you were hesitating now. Should you return 300 or 600?

The coffee shop Suyong suggested you go to is on the 5th floor. You took a table by the window to enjoy the view of snowy Seoul.

You placed your order and waited for it to be ready, discussing the gifts and things you saw while shopping.

You ordered a dessert to go with the chocolate, but Suyong didn't want any, saying she wasn't hungry. You looked at her suspiciously. She's starving herself again, trying to lose weight. She already looks like a codfish and still wants losing weight.

"Maybe you should order a piece of cake or a pastry." - You insisted. Suyong shakes her head in denial.

"No. I've already gained two kilograms since my mom came. She feeds me like I have no bottom in stomach." - Your friend jokes. You laugh. "So why are you late? You said you were going to take the subway." - Suyong asked. You froze when you heard the question. You instantly remembered why you were late. That amazing car sex you had with Jungkook was so worth it. But no one can know about it. So lying became your constant companion.

"I left the house and almost at the subway station I remembered that I forgot my money. I had to go back for it." - You made it up as you went along.

"But you paid with your card in all the stores!" - Suyong pointed out. You realized you were being silly. Surely you paid with your card because you didn't have any cash.

"Yes. But when I was almost home, I got a call from Jungkook who said he could put the money on the card." - You got out of it. Suyong didn't seem to believe your lie. Her eyes said so. She shook her head as if she understood that this was possible, but her slightly polite smile spoke of disbelief. She pretended to believe it, but you could tell she didn't.

"Jungkook is a good friend!" - Suyong said, as if mocking. But you were outraged. That she had never borrowed money from a friend? What was the big deal?

"He's a good guy, but he's an ass. I've known him since I was a kid." - You say, and for some reason your heart is beating faster.

"Yes, I remember." - Your friend recalls. "What does he do for a living?" - She suddenly wants to know.

"He works for a security company or something." - You answer, trying to be indifferent. But for some reason, you don't want to talk about Jungkook right now.

They know each other, but they've only seen each other a few times, when Jungkook picked you up from the university. Suyong never said you anything about him or asked about him. But now you wonder why she's suddenly asking questions about him.

Fortunately for you, a waitress came to table and brought your cake. When she left, you froze when you noticed Doohoon standing behind her, choosing a place to sit. You hurriedly turned your back so he wouldn't see you.

"Shit!" - You cursed. Suyong didn't understand why you were acting like this.

"Y/N what happened?" - She tried to find out why you were hiding. "Did you see someone?"

"Shhhh!" - You hissed. "Don't call me by my name. I just noticed someone I know who I didn't want to..." - You were about to say that you didn't want to meet him, but you heard Doohoon's voice behind you.

"Wouldn't want to see him." - He said looking at your back. You froze, not believing that he had noticed you. But you didn't have much choice. You had to at least say hello. You turned to meet his black eyes and that stupid smile that annoys you so much. "I know you're mad at me, but I'm glad I met you." - He says. "Hi, candy."

"Hi." - You say, annoyed. "Don't call me that!" - Doohoon made his smile even wider.

"Can I join to you?" - Your former friend asks hopefully. Of course you say ‘no’. You don't want to talk to that sneaky idiot.

"No." - You say. You hear Jungkook's voice in your head telling you not to meet with Doohoon. "This is a private meeting and you'll be in the way. I'll see you another time." - You say. And then you quickly add. "I mean never."

Doohoon laughs at your words. He looks over at Suyong as if to ask if she's okay with it. Your friend, who had been watching the two of you the whole time, was just puzzled. And when Doohoon noticed her, she blushed.

"My friend is a little angry at me. But I want to earn her forgiveness. So if you let me seats...?" - Doohoon turned on his charm. You almost threw up when you heard what he was saying and how he was saying it.

Suyong didn't mind and shyly invited him to the table. Doohoon sat down on the couch next to her, smiling gratefully. You were outraged.

"I'm not your friend. And we haven't been friends for a long time. I don't understand what you're trying to do?" - You asked.

"Don't be so aggressive. We can just sit and talk." - Doohoon says. Two cups of hot chocolate and a cappuccino for Dohun are brought to you. You take an irritated sip of the chocolate.

"I already told you that we are not going to talk. That's it." - You say dryly as the waitress walks away from the table.

"So did Jungkook tell you everything?" - Doohoon asks. You glance at Suyong for a moment, who simply doesn't understand what's going on or what you’re talking about. You exhale nervously.

"Now is not the time to discuss this." - You say, hinting at your friend's presence.

"If you need to talk, I can step away!" - Suyong offers, already trying to stand up.

"No." - You quickly stop her. "It's not you who should leave, it's him. Because he's the only one who's not a welcome companion here." - You glare at Doohoon and catch his irritated look. But he just smiles, not wanting to show his true emotions. This piece of shit!

"My name is Doohoon. I'm Y/N's friend from school." - Doohoon ignores your words and turns to Suyoung.

"Suyong." - Your friend introduces herself. You're nervous that this idiot won't leave your side. And how strange it is that you're seeing him twice this week. Knowing what he did to Jungkook, he annoys the hell out of you.

"Why are you here?" - You interrupt the acquaintance.

"What do you mean? Why am I sitting here?" - Doohoon pretends not to understand. You smile at him tightly.

"How did you find me?" - You ask, knowing without a doubt that he was not here by chance.

"I came in for coffee. I love this place. And I noticed you turning away. First I thought that it’s not you. But when I heard your friend call your name, I realized it was you." - Doohoon assures you. You look at him skeptically, but it sounds like the truth. You stop talking and turn to the window, not wanting to continue the conversation. Doohoon turns to Suyong and asks about her. They strike up a small talk.

You can feel the tension because of Doohoon's presence. But he's not doing anything wrong.

You promised Jungkook that you wouldn't contact him. And you're keeping that promise. This chance meeting is not your fault.

You're sitting at the table drinking hot chocolate, which is delicious. And that's the only thing that doesn't disappoint you. Suyong is actively communicating with Doohoon. You see how shy she is and how she keeps touching own hair. She seems to like your ex-friend.

It's not surprising. He is an attractive and masculine man who has good taste in clothes. He has a good accent and communicates well. But you won't let her get close to him. You already know his rotten nature.

Suyong asks to leave the table to go to the restroom. You are left alone with Doohoon. You are determined to go home when Suyong returns.

"Hey, candy." - Doohoon calls you gently. You respond immediately.

"Call me that name again and I'll punch you in the face." - You threaten. Doohoon just laughs. He likes it when you threaten him, knowing for sure that you won't do it. At least not in a coffee shop.

"Jungkook told you everything, and now you hate me even more." - Doohoon states.

"You're a big brain." - You say sarcastically. "How am I supposed to feel about a coward who betrayed his best friend?" - You almost shout. But Doohoon is looking at you.

"Did he tell you how I set him up?" - Doohoon asks, wanting to know what you know.

"Yeah. All that bullshit with the illegal fights. I know everything. Jungkook almost got killed there. How could you leave him?" - You look at Doohoon, your eyes soaked in anger. He is silent for a moment and then says.

"I didn't want my father to know that I was doing this. That's why I ran away. I had no choice but to set him up like that. But I knew that the person who offered us to fight in his club would not touch Jungkook. I knew he liked him." - Says Doohoon, twirling his cup nervously.

"If I were Jungkook, I would have beaten the hell out of you. Why didn't you agree to this 'super fight'? You would have gotten 10 million if you had survived actually!" - You say. Doohoon freezes and the cup stops fidgeting under his hand.

"Jungkook got 10 million?" - Doohoon asks. You don't know if you should tell him. You feel like you've already said too much.

"After he got out of the hospital. The bastard who sent him to the hospital paid him back." - You said.

Doohoon ponders your words. So Jungkook lied about getting paid for the "super fight." Because Doohoon probably knows that Jungkook didn't receive any money. On the contrary, he became a debtor to that person because of Doohoon's actions. That's how he set Jungkook up. He owed money to Namjoon and brought Jungkook to him to fight in illegal fights. So Namjoon could make money from betting. Doohoon also earned money, even though he owed Namjoon a large sum of money. The day he was expelled from the university, he told his father everything. And he ordered him to fly to the United States to study there. And to put the debt on Jungkook. The father set it up and put it into Namjoon's head that Jungkook would be able to pay off the debt instead of his son.

That's why Jungkook works for the “RUN NOIR” clan. He is Namjoon's attack dog who still hasn't paid off his debt. And he will be in his power for a long time because of it. Doohoon will do everything to make sure that Jungkook finally stops bothering him. And Y/N is also part of the plan. He'll take her away too, make Namjoon disappointed in his loyal dog, and destroy Jungkook for good.

"Okay. You had a fight with Jungkook. Why did you stop talking to me?" - You ask Doohoon. It's a question that's been on your mind for four fucking years.

"I know you. You would have been for Jungkook. You're always for him. That's why I stopped answering you, because if you knew what I did, you would stop talking to me yourself. And then I went to America." - Doohoon says sadly. You don't believe him one iota.

"You decided everything for me. You don't know what I would do. But you did what you did. I didn't know what happened between us until the last moment. I was angry with you because you were the first to leave me. You could have been friends with me..." - You exhaled. "What you did to Jungkook was a real eye-opener for me. But I thought the three of us were really friends... Friends don't do that. That's what real bastards do." - You said angrily and noticed that Suyong approaching.

She returned to the table. Suyong sensed that there was incredible tension between the two of you. You were silent when she came.

"What did you talk about?" - Suyong asks. You're about to tell her that you have to leave when Doohoon replies.

"We were talking about Jungkook. You know, the three of us were friends. Y/N was telling me about their life together." - Doohoon says, and you freeze. Your eyes are fixed on the cup of chocolate and you can't move. He knows you're living with Jungkook. But how did he find out? Did he follow you?

"You live with Jungkook?" - Suyoung asks you, who for obvious reasons also didn't know that your new apartment you told her about was Jungkook's. You don't pay attention to Suyoung and look at Doohoon. He gives a fake shriek and can't help but smile a terrible, fake smile.

"Oh. Your friend didn't know you were living with your best friend?" - He asks. "But why hide it? Jungkook did the honorable thing. He offered to live together. Apartments in Seoul are really expensive." - Doohoon says, and your blood runs cold. This bastard knows so much. What else could he know? He's really dangerous, just like Jungkook said. You look at Doohoon and you don't recognize him. He's not the person you were friends with at school. You hear your inner voice screaming at you to run away. You grab your things and gifts and stand up abruptly.

"Come on, Suyong, we're leaving." - You tell her. She watches you for a moment and then gets up from the table as well. Doohoon is left sitting alone.

"Wait." - Suyong says, trying to get her wallet. "I need to pay for the chocolate." - You put your hand on hers and stop her from taking out the money.

"My former 'friend' is treat us drinks." - You say and look at Doohoon. He pulls his lips together, looking at you irritated. "Thank you very much. I hope I never see you again. If you come near me again, I'll go to the police and file a harassment report against you. I wish you all the best." - You cut him off and turn on your heel and leave the coffee shop.

You quickly walk to the elevator to the first floor. You are shaking with anger and fear. Why has Doohoon become so horrible? The worst part of this situation is that you see him trying to communicate with you, but you don’t want. Not after what he did to Jungkook. You don't want to be between two fires. You don't have to because you're already on Jungkook's side, just like Doohoon said. Jungkook is too important to you, so you're only going to listen to him and his words.

What scares you is that Doohoon knows you're living with Jungkook and that he asked you to live together. But how did he know? Who could have told him this information? To put it bluntly, only you two knew about it. Jungkook couldn't have told him personally, because you certainly didn't say anything.

The blood is pulsing in your head. You want to get home as soon as possible. You don't even hear Suyoung's screams as she runs after you, trying to catch up. You only pay attention to her when you stop at the elevator.

"Are you okay?" - Your friend asks and tries to catch her breath.

"Yes, Suyong. I'm going home now. I have some things to do." - You answer, trying not to let the trembling in your voice show.

"I'm sorry I invited that man to the table. You don't like him." - She says with regret. You smile to reassure her.

"Everything is fine. I never meting him again." - You assure she. The elevator stops near you and you get on.

You stand close to Suyong because the elevator is almost full.

"So you live with Jungkook. Are you dating him?" - Your friend whispers in your ear.

"No. We've been best friends since childhood. We're like brother and sister." - You also whisper. Suyong smiles.

"Why didn't you tell me?" - You asks.

"Because of that you just asked. Because everyone immediately thinks he's my boyfriend. But he's just a friend. We didn't tell anyone because I asked. We get misunderstood all the time." - You answer. The elevator descended quickly and you got off, and Suyong continued.

"I don't know. Maybe it's because everyone sees how you guys talk. You're two constantly flirting. And you always look at each other in love." - Suyong suggests. You are taken aback by her words. Do you really behave like that?

"What the flirting, what the love look?" - You protested. "What are you talking about, girl?" - Suyong laughed at your reaction. You overreacted.

"What? I've seen Jungkook a couple of times and it's enough to know he wants to fuck you." - She says with a laugh. "I actually thought he was your boyfriend. I thought you called him a friend as a joke." - You stop in the middle of the road and stare dumbfounded at your friend. She notices that you have disappeared somewhere and turns to you. You stare at her for a long few seconds and keep walking.

"Suyong. Don't say that again. He doesn't want to fuck me..." - You say, but in reality it's already happening. "And we'll never go out with him because we're completely different. Besides, we've been friends since childhood. It's like meeting your brother."

"Well, everyone says that, and then they get married and live happily ever after." - Suyong argues. You shake your head. It seems hopeless to explain this to anyone.

You came home when the sun had already set. The apartment was a mess because you had left your clothes scattered when you left, and there were dirty dishes in the sink. You had left them out in the morning and planned to wash them later, but you forgot because you went to meet Suyong.

You changed into shorts and a T-shirt.

You walked out into the living room from your room and assessed the state of the mess you had made. Sometimes you're careless, but you always clean up after yourself. So before Jungkook sees what you've done to the apartment, you have to clean up quickly.

The first thing you wanted to do was to clean up the scattered things. Among them were Jungkook's things lying on the couch and chairs. You picked up one of his T-shirts and smelled his perfume. A pleasant citrus scent, with notes of lemongrass. You pick up his T-shirt and press it to your nose. You take a deep breath, enjoying the scent.

Jungkook. He’s covered in this flavor. You like this smell so much. Something warm arises inside you when you stand there with Jungkook's T-shirt in your hands and smell it incessantly. You want his scent to be present with you. So you take off your T-shirt that you wore earlier and pull on Jungkook's.

It's big on you and long. It covers your shorts, and it looks like you're not wearing them. The aroma fills your nostrils and you feel instantly calm. All your anxious thoughts are replaced by thoughts of Jungkook. They make you feel safe and peaceful.

You continue cleaning and you get so addicted that you clean the entire apartment to a shine, leaving no room untouched.

You sit down on the couch and feel your whole body buzzing. You lie on the back of the couch with your head on it. You're feeling fatigue. Thinking about what time it is, you pick up your phone and see a text message in cocoa talk from an unknown number. You open it and see the text message.

"Candy, don't push me away, I want to be friends with you like we used to be. I’m first who turned away from you, but I was afraid you would hate me. I want to earn your forgiveness. How can I do that? 🥺"

You block his number. Anxiety takes over again. You're annoyed that this idiot doesn't understand that you don't need his friendship. Your head is bursting with unnecessary worries. You also wonder if you should tell Jungkook that he knows you're living together. Jungkook will probably be angry. You don't know what to do. Should you just ignore Doohoon?

You gather the last of your strength and get off the couch. It's 11pm. Jungkook is still not here and it's not known when he will be. You decide that you need to take a shower. But before you go to your room to get your things, you hear the sound of the combination lock.

Jungkook enters the apartment. Your reaction to him has been the same lately. Your pulse races every time you see your friend. This momentary excitement passes when you see his tired smile.

"Hey." - He says as he takes off his jacket. He's back in his bomber jacket and tight-fitting pants with a few pockets. His image is completely black as always. You remember his image in the suit. They are two completely different men.

"Hi. You're here before I'm even asleep, that's a success." - You joke. Jungkook smiles slightly and sits down on the couch. He looks very tired. His eyes blink slowly, and his posture is too relaxed. You sit down next to him. "Are you okay? Are you alive?" - You ask cautiously. Jungkook looks at you for a moment. Then he gently wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close. He hugs you, resting his head on your chest. You hug him back.

"Now alive." - He says. And again, that fucking butterfly feeling in your stomach. What is he doing to you? He hugs you even tighter and you notice the warmth of his body and the strength of his arms.

It feels good to be in his arms and feel him too. You have really missed him all these days. But you don't understand why your heart threatens to jump out of your chest every time you see Jungkook.

The silence between the two of you drags on. Jungkook doesn't seem to mind just being silent and being in your arms. You feel his breath on your chest.

You wonder what to do next. Has your warmth been enough for him? You want to ask him something to distract him, but your thoughts are completely empty. You are enjoying this position too.

Suddenly, Jungkook moves away, but only a few centimeters. He looks at your breasts and then pulls away.

"Is that my T-shirt you're wearing?" - He says seriously. You're embarrassed. You've completely forgotten that you're wearing his clothes. And without his permission.

"Uh... yes, it is. I put it on because, you know, it was lying here on the couch. I didn't want to go into the room to change. I wanted to start cleaning right away..." - You were making it up as you went along. Jungkook was smiling defiantly. You were confused.

"And how often do you put on my clothes when they are scattered?" - Jungkook asked with the same smile.

"No. I don't really wear your clothes. I actually thought it was mine. I have a similar one..." - You try to sound convincing.

Jungkook grabs the edge of your T-shirt and pulls it up slightly. You freeze.

"It looks so good on you." - He lowers his voice. "If you like it, you can wear my shirts." - He allows. You give him a quick glance. His eyes scan you, running over your body.

"Thanks." - You say shyly. Jungkook is going crazy at your tone. Why does your shyness turn him on so much? Should he hold back? He's already fucked you today, but what's to stop him from doing it again?

Jungkook grabs you and pushes you against the couch. You're trapped. Your heart is beating somewhere in your throat and a fire instantly starts in your stomach.

"Jungkook..." - You protest very weakly.

"I think this is my favorite one you're wearing, that’s why I think you should take it off..." - He says into your neck, kissing it slowly. He reaches under your shirt and pulls it up. You're not wearing a bra, and it instantly makes Jungkook harden. You moan sensually, closing your eyes, from his gentle kisses. His closeness becomes like air. You wonder how you ever lived without it.

"I can take it off if it's your favorite." - You barely say, enduring the sweet torment created by his lips, which are already putting a hickey in your chest.

"My favorite." - He whispers against your chest. And you're not sure if he's talking about the T-shirt. You feel your underwear getting wet.

He finishes with your breast and lifts his head to you. Your cheeks are slightly flushed. Your lips are slightly open and your breathing is fast and heavy. He reaches higher and in a moment his lips meet yours. His tongue instantly penetrates your mouth and finds yours. These feelings he evokes in you become a drug. You feel high every time he kisses you. His lips are soft, his tongue is skillful, and it's a perfect combination.

"Kook..." - You say when you have to pull away from each other because you're out of air.

"Yes, baby." - He replies as he climbs back down around your neck again. He can't wait taste that sweet skin.

"I have something to tell you." - You say. You don't think it's the right time to say it. But you know you have to tell him. Probably better to let him finish what he started, but the anxiety in the back of your mind urges you to speak.

"Speak up." - Jungkook urges you.

"I met Doohoon today." - You say and Jungkook abruptly stops kissing you. His gaze turns angry.

"Where did you meet him?" - Jungkook asks, looking at you intently. You realize you have to tell him.

"At Lotte. We meet at the coffee shop where I went with Suyong." - Jungkook stares at you for a moment longer and stands up, depriving you of his warmth. You lower your shirt and sit up straight.

"I told you not to see him." - Jungkook says in a serious tone.

"It was an accident. I was trying to hide from him, but he noticed me." - You say, making excuses. "And then he brazenly sat down at our table without being invited." - You said. You hesitated to tell him that Doohoon knew they were living together. Jungkook was angry, if you told him he might get even angrier. But you're scared that there is a possibility that Doohoon might have been following you.

"Why didn't you just go?" - Jungkook asks another question. You did leave, but a little later. Although Jungkook is right, you should have go right away.

"He wanted to acquaintance with Suyong. If I was alone, I would have gone for sure." - You assure your friend. "But he said something before we left." - You are nervous. You look at your fingers.

"What?" - Jungkook demands an answer.

"He knows we're living together. He even knows that you suggested it. I don't know how, because it's only the two of us who know. You didn't tell anyone, did you?" - You look from your fingers to Jungkook when you don't hear his answer. His face is pure rage. His eyes are angry, his eyebrows are drawn together. He stands up quickly and grabs his phone, which was previously lying peacefully on the table in front of the TV.

Jungkook walks over to the window and stares at the night landscape outside, dialing someone at the same time.

"Hey. Check if my house is being watched. And text me immediately." - He orders someone. You panic. Has Doohoon really stooped to that level? Why would he do that?

"Kook..." - You call out to him. You sound panicked. He turns and looks at you with a distant look. As if forgetting that you are here. "What's going on? Why would Doohoon want to follow you? Or me?" - You ask. Jungkook approaches you and pulls you into a hug. He is silent, and you are again the one who knows nothing about what is happening.

"You don't have to worry about anything. I'll take care of everything. That piece of shit won't bother you anymore." - Jungkook promises you.

"Is it really that complicated between you two?" - You ask, tilting your head to look into Jungkook's eyes. He looks at you and doesn't know what to say. Things are really complicated between Jungkook and Doohoon. Jungkook has put up with a lot of his nonsense, but if he starts acting out using you, it will be the end of him.

Jungkook boils over with anger. This fucking sucker is out of line. If he lays a finger on you, Jungkook will destroy him.

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#jungkook x reader #bts #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x f!reader #jungkook smut #jungkook friends with benefits #bts mafia series #bts mafia au

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thisismeracing · 3 months ago

Note

Can I please request a charles dating a Greek girl *like the Korean girl you did*???👉🏻👈🏻🥹🥹🥹🥺🥺

Hi, love!!! of course <3 here you go! sorry for taking forever, I was off for a bit and just got back hihih

Here's the Charles version - I'm so sorry I read Mick idk why, but do not fear for Millie will make justice (even if she was the wrong one in the first place lol).

MICK DATING A GREEK GIRL | MS47

Warnings: mentions of food; tooth-rotting fluff; mentions of family members; not proofread.

A/n: Just a quick reminder that there are many shades, experiences, and backgrounds when it comes to greeks and their culture, what I am writing does not resume everything, but rather brings a piece of it to the table. <3

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

Mick already knows Greece, but when you two start dating he's in for a whole new adventure aka getting familiar with culture, sayings, and the idiom;

He becomes obsessed with Greek cuisine. To him, everything is better when it's Greek - greek rice, greek break, greek spaghetti, and the latter let it slip during an interview, and you bet Ferrari fans we're mad for a week or so;

He would encourage you guys to visit the less tourist-centered cities and islands, instead suggesting places where you grew up or had stories to tell;

Mick would make sure to always have his camera on him and register random photos of you - he has a 'Greek girl <3' folder that consists mostly of pictures of you;

Randomly learned to introduce himself in Greek, but got his age wrong and it didn't matter how many times you tried to correct him, he would always forget and say it wrong again, so you just accepted that he was one hundred five instead of twenty-five when in Greece;

Though Mick loved the homey cities, he also loved the famous islands and whenever you traveled there at least one weekend would be spent in one of those. Athenas, Santorini, Corfu, Mykonos, Crete, Zakynthos, Ithaca, you name it, he will pack his bags at the speed of light and be ready to tag along;

He would watch movies that were ambient in Greece and ask you if things were accurate. He looved Mamma Mia and Greek Wedding;

Totally hints that he wants to have a greek wedding after you attend one together; The plates breaking? The common cup? the wedding face? He watched it all in awe;

Now when it comes to meeting the family Mick is nervous. He wants to make everything right so he will try to at least introduce himself in Greek -and he'll most likely get nervous again and say he's one hundred-five years lol it becomes a family thing, and he feels at home around your folks;

Same to you and his family that will definitely put Greece on their next vacay destination just to spend some quality family time with everyone.

Overall Mick is just super curious and open to learning about you and your culture, and will go around talking about how cool things are in Greece because he's this type of person. He's obsessed with your country, but he's even more obsessed with you.

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: I hope you guys liked it! Let me know your thoughts, it means a lot to me <3 *mwah*

If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘 ▸ check my main masterlist | patreon guide and my taglist.

#millies inbox #anon #ms47 #mick schumacher #op: headcanons #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #mick schumacher x reader #greek!reader #mick schumacher headcanon #mick schumacher imagine #f1 imagines #f1 headcanons

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anakinstwinklebunny · 2 months ago

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Hey I love your works and I was wondering if you could write a fluffy head cannon about dad Sam monroe with it being Sam's first Christmas as a dad for bunnycember. If this is possible then thank you and if not then I don't really mind. Thank you.

Author's note: anything for you nonnie

SAM MONROE who made a rocking horse for his little boy;

“Sammie,” you murmured, drawing your knees up to your chest as you inched closer to your boyfriend, watching him wrestle with the instruction manual. “We can just buy one, you know. You don’t have to do this yourself.”

Sam glanced at you, irritation flashing in his blue eyes as he flipped the booklet around like it would suddenly make sense. “No way. I’m not gonna be that kind of dad. This thing says it’s easy to put together, and I’ll be damned if I can’t handle it. Although…” He squinted at the pages again, his jaw tightening. “I’m convinced the idiot who wrote this wasn’t speaking human.”

You bit back a smile, watching as his frustration turned into sheer stubborn determination. “But,” you started hesitantly, trying to find the right words, “are you sure he even wanted this? I mean, he’s barely speaking yet…”

Sam turned to you, dropping the manual to the floor with a dramatic sigh. “Y/n,” he said, dead serious, though his lips twitched into a small, cocky smirk. “I saw it in his eyes, okay? He practically begged me for this damn rocking horse.” His voice softened, pride lacing every word as he added, “And what my little man wants, he gets. End of story.”

SAM MONROE who insists he’s 'not into Christmas', but the way he gently wraps the lights around the tree while explaining to his son why the star goes on top says otherwise.

SAM MONROE who you find in the nursery. He’s got the baby cradled in one arm, a book of Christmas stories in the other. His voice is low and soft as he reads “The Night Before Christmas,” pausing every so often to kiss your baby’s head and whisper, “I’m going to make every Christmas better for you, little guy.” but lets be honest, I think Sam would pass some parts from the book(s) cause for him it'd be too cringy and he'd just add something that isn't in the book but he came up with

SAM MONROE who gets stressed about finding the perfect gift for your son, even though he’s too young to remember it. He drags you to a dozen toy stores, debating the merits of a stuffed animal versus a set of wooden blocks. “It has to be something meaningful,” he mutters. In the end, he settles on a plush bunny

SAM MONROE who complained that it’s “embarrassing,” after you picked out an adorable reindeer onesie for your son yet you catch sam taking about a million photos of the baby wearing it. He even changes his phone wallpaper to one of those pictures, though he’ll deny it if you call him out.

SAM MONROE who woke up earlier than you’ve ever seen him, eager to see your son’s reaction to the gifts under the tree. The baby is more interested in the wrapping paper than the toys, but Sam doesn’t care. He sits on the floor in his flannel pajamas, helping your son tear the paper while grinning like a kid himself.

SAM MONROE who surprisingly insists on starting a new family tradition—baking cookies together on Christmas Day. You both end up covered in flour while the baby bangs a spoon against the counter. The cookies are misshapen and slightly burnt, but Sam calls them “perfect” and he sneaks one into his son’s tiny hand, ignoring your protests of the late hour

SAM MONROE who has his little son on his lap during decorating of cookies - he'll so gently hold the boy's puffy hand, aiming it so the frosting wouldn't go somewhere else than on the cookie. He ends up putting some icing in the his and the boy's mouth to 'make sure it tastes good'

SAM MONROE who helps his little son build his first snowman - and even takes hundred of pics from different angles but if you'd (or anyone) catch him, he didn't do them. He'd also lift his boy so he could stick a carrot to the snowman's head

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @rssmary @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @r0b-in

#bunny's replies ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა #BUNNYCEMBER <33 #anakin skywalker #hayden christensen #life as a house #sam monroe x y/n #sam monroe x you #sam monroe fanfiction #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe #christensen hayden #hayden christensen x you #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen x female reader #hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen fic #hayden christensen fanfiction #sam monroe fluff

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euphoricfilter · 1 year ago

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more silent love:

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fluff || non-idol au

summary: jungkook’s book of silent love

tags/ warnings: more fluff, they’re in love it’s kinda sickening, more silent ways to say i love you. i am once again sleepy and thinking of the cute kinda love

notes: part two of this fic, but can be read as a standalone :D

where you can find all my other work!!

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

The list of silent love is a forever growing one.

A small notebook sits on the kitchen table, one you had never bothered to pick up. Though Jungkook likes to spend quiet evenings alone, handwriting far from legible as he scribbles down each of these precious moments.

Memories set in stone as the ink seeps into flimsy paper; perfect, beautiful, love tucked between pages like his own little secret.

As of late, the both of you spend Sunday afternoons learning how to bake bread. A new type of loaf every week, flour clinging to clothes and smiles tugging at both your lips. It had become your own personal mission to never buy bread again, taking hours out the afternoon, simply basking in the company of one another as you learn something new.

He finds himself associating the smell of fresh bread to you. Quirk of a smile tugging at his cheeks as he walks past bakeries, fleeting memory of you in the forefront of his mind. A permanent home you've burrowed.

Jungkook, of course, likes to make you sandwiches with your homemade bread. Some mornings waking up, quietly slipping out of bed before you wake to pack you lunch, sweet little note slipped into your bag before he hears your footsteps patter out the bedroom, sluggish as you wake up.

And on those mornings your patience wears a little too thin, the world a little too much for you to take so early in the day; Jungkook will make sure to sit you down in front of the vanity. Where he detangles your hair ever so gently. Careful as he helps you put your earrings in– he’d gotten quite good over time, learning how to match your jewellery to what you were wearing. Observant in all your favorite pieces that he knew he could never go wrong with.

Every night as he showers, you sit yourself up on the kitchen counter, reaching for Jungkook’s favorite herbal teas. And every night, as he dries his hair, slinking into the kitchen, there will always be a tea there waiting for him.

He wonders how you’d learnt to time it perfectly. Knowing when to pour the hot water with just enough time before he gets out of the shower where the temperature is perfect. So he can easily slip under a blanket with you, your cold feet warmed up between his thighs as he sips sleepy tea and you doze off beside him.

He’d learnt you loved when he made you heart-shaped pancakes. And as much as he always eyes the cute little pancake pans online, there will always be something slightly more rewarding about his own hand-crafted hearts that have you giggling into his mouth– lips syrup sticky and sweet. That slight effort more just to see you smile forever lighting up his life.

He likes to watch you smile as you re-read your favourite books. Where he’d taken time out of his lunch breaks to respond to all the annotations you’d made on your first read through.

He’d glance up at you from his phone as the pen glides across the page, your own mind conjuring up replies to his questions and comments. Like that in itself was its own love language. Silent words slipped between pages of stories that aren't your own, words that only the two of you will ever see. A glimpse into your mind and in return a peek into his.

Every time he is the cause of your smile, his chest goes warm and his heart feels fluttery and light. So gooey warm and raw and lovely and so many words, so many thoughts and feelings all at once he will never be able to truly explain it in words. And maybe that’s why he likes to write down all the precious moments you share. Because that is love. The epitome of love in every sense of the word and it's meaning and yet, it's more than that.

It is your shared love in words without fancy vocabulary and poems and unheard confessions of adoration that will never leave the corners of his mind. Simply unreadable gibberish to hold each of these moments in time, cradled against his beating heart, so that even when the both of you leave this world, part of your love will live forever between the pages of that book.

Because that's what your love is. An eternal thing that will dance between the stars after death and kiss the both of you in your graves as you blossom into new life. Sure to meet one another again no matter where you end up.

You are Jungkook's forever, even if that means he has to scour the earth to find that little notebook, to relive those memories and learn to love you the right way again.

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #jungkook #bts x reader #bts #jjk #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook fic #bts non idol au #jungkook fluff

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scoonsalicious · 8 months ago

Text

10.4 Major

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, alcohol consumption, drunkenness, brief mentions of sexual situations.

Word Count: 3.6k

Previously On...: Bucky ran to Lily for comfort after running out on you. Despite her best efforts, Bucky realized he done fucked up, A-aron.

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Everything but this and all of you is shit right now, lol.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

After Bucky had stormed out of The WarZone that evening, you had tried to call him. Dozens of times. At first, he’d declined the calls, but soon, they went straight to voicemail, and you knew he had turned off his phone. Either that, or he’d blocked you.

You knew he would be upset when he saw the contents of that envelope, but for him to make those accusations of you, and then to run away without even giving you an opportunity to speak or explain yourself? To say you were pissed off would be an understatement. So, you did the one thing that came to your mind as a way of dealing with the pain and frustration you were feeling: you went home and drank.

You’d been obsessively staring at her phone screen as you put back glass after glass of wine, willing Bucky to call you and apologize, to text asking for your side of the story, for anything, really, but after hours of his silence, you finally had enough and composed a single message to him:

>> When you’re done with your temper tantrum and want to talk like a grown up, you know where to find me.

Probably not the most mature thing you could have done, but you had been drinking, after all. Besides, it’s not like it had mattered; he’d never answered, anyway. You’d probably never hear from him again. That thought, amplified by the alcohol, had sent you down a dark tunnel of tears and ugly sobs. You honestly couldn’t remember ever crying this much over a man– not even when you’d found out about Connor’s affair, and you’d been married for nearly a decade; no, that had felt more like a relief, like finally having an answer to a question that had been stumping you for ages. But now, here you were, a blubbering mess over a man you hadn’t even known for a full week.

You weren’t sure what hurt the most about it: the fact that he thought you went looking for that information, the words he’d said to you, or the way he ran out without even hearing your side of things. You didn’t even have the bandwidth to consider the betrayal of him going through your private papers.

There had just been so much potential with Bucky. So much promise. It could have been something beautiful and amazing, and now, it was over before it had even had a chance to really begin. And that just made you sad. Sad, and lonely. Maybe you’d finally get yourself a cat. Yeah, that seemed like a good idea. Perhaps it was finally time to embrace your destiny as a spinster cat lady, just like your mother had always threatened since your divorce. Why fight the inevitable?

A soft knock at your door took you out of your depression spiral. You quickly glanced at your clock– 10:45 pm. Far too late for a social call. Most likely, your nextdoor neighbor, Jeremy, had locked himself out of his apartment and wanted to hang out at yours until maintenance came by with the master key, again.

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you made a move to stand, but the alcohol sent a wave of dizziness through your system and you almost fell stumbling back down to the couch. This time, you moved more slowly, holding on to furniture for support as you shuffled toward the front door. When you made it about half way, you heard a voice from the hallway that definitely did not belong to Jeremy. You froze.

“Sugar? Are you there? Will you open up, please?”

Shit. What the fuck was Bucky doing here? You couldn’t possibly talk to him right now– your face was an absolute mess from crying and you were still so drunk. And what if he was still angry?

You considered your next course of action. Opening the door was a no go– any conversation could only end in disaster. For the same reason, you couldn’t try to talk to him through the door. Knowing the effect he had on you, it would probably only be a few minutes before you were letting him in, begging him to fuck you. No, the best thing to do would be to retreat to your bedroom and hide until he went away. Maybe he would just assume you weren’t home.

Yes, that was the way to do it. To your wine-soaked brain, this seemed entirely logical. You turned to head back into your bedroom, but you missed-stepped and banged your shin into one of your end tables.

“Fuck,” you hissed in pain, trying to keep your voice down as you rubbed what would no doubt become a spectacular bruise.

“Doll?” Bucky called from the hallway. “I know you’re in there. I just heard you. Please let me in. I just want to talk to you.”

Damn it.

Without another thought, you hightailed it back into your bedroom, throwing yourself under the covers. Just hearing the sound of his voice through the door brought back the memory of his tirade from earlier in the day, and the words he’d spoken to you:

“You wanna know how many people I killed that didn’t make it into those files, because I promise you, sugar, there’s a hell of a lot. You want to know about the time Hydra sent me to kill an ambassador, told me to leave no witnesses, and I took out his wife and his two kids, too? ‘Cause they couldn’t have been more than ten years old. That kind of thing get you off, doll?”

The rage in his voice had been palpable, and if you were being honest, it had scared you. Not the rage, itself. You knew he was capable of it. No, what had frightened you was how quickly he had turned that rage on to you.

The thought brought a fresh wave of tears, and before you knew it, you were crying yourself into a fitful, restless slumber.

There was an incessant pounding coming from the living room that echoed the pounding in your skull. Moaning, you rolled over and picked up your phone to glance at the time. 1:47am. The pounding persisted, and it took your now hungover brain a moment to realize someone was knocking on your front door.

With a groan, you shoved your head under your pillow, hoping whoever was there would go the fuck away and leave you to die in peace.

“Ms. (Y/L/N), it’s the NYPD; please open your door.” Well. That got your attention. Sitting bolt upright, you jumped out of bed and nearly tripped trying to get to the door in a hurry.

You checked the peep hole, making sure it actually was one of New York’s finest, and opened the door.

“Can I help you, officer?” you asked, leaning against the door frame.

The officer gave you the once over and smirked, and it was then you remembered you’d chosen a pair of boyshort panties and an off-the shoulder cropped Army t-shirt for your pajamas that night. With a scowl, you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Are you “(Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” the officer asked, obviously amused by your discomfort.

“I am,” you nodded. “What is this about?”

“Do you know this man?” the officer stepped aside, revealing Bucky, who was standing sheepishly off to the side of the door where you hadn’t been able to see him at first.

“Hey, doll,” he said with a shameful half smile and small wave.

“One of your neighbors found him sleeping against your door and called us. He claims he’s your boyfriend and he was just waiting for you to let him in. Since he’s an Avenger, I figured I’d give him a chance to prove his story before I booked him for trespassing.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. You were far too hungover to be dealing with this right now. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you clarified, and you didn’t miss Bucky’s face falling at your words. “But we are dating.” You stood back from the doorframe, making some space. “Come inside,” you told him with an exasperated sigh.

Bucky gave the officer an “I told you so” smirk and shoulder checked him before going inside your condo. You rolled your eyes at the childish display of machismo. You thanked the officer and moved to close the door, but he put a hand out, preventing you from closing it.

“Are you going to be safe if I leave you alone with him?” he asked you in a low voice, all trace of his earlier smirk gone. “Do you have any reason to fear for your life?”

You couldn’t help it– you snorted in laughter. “God, no,” you said. Yes, Bucky’s anger had frightened you, but you couldn’t believe he would ever go so far as to actually hurt you. He just wasn’t that kind of man, right? “I promise you, officer, I’m perfectly safe with Mr. Barnes. I mean, he’s an Avenger.”

The officer nodded. “Just making sure, miss. My partner and I will stay in the area; if there’s any trouble, call 911 and we’ll be nearby.” You thanked him for his concern, but assured him it wouldn’t be needed. He tipped his cap to you and headed for the elevator.

You closed the door and leaned against it with a sigh. You needed to get some liquid in you. Immediately.

Without sparing a glance at Bucky, who was standing by your coffee table, studiously avoiding looking at you, you made your way into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water.

“Boyfriend, huh?” you said eventually, keeping your back to him as you ran the glass under your refrigerator’s water dispenser.

“Yeah… I wasn’t sure what to say to him to get him to let me stay,” he said, and his voice was closer now; you could tell he’d followed you to the kitchen.

“What are you doing here, Bucky?” you asked. You took a couple of sips from your glass before finally turning to face him. He looked… rough. His hair was disheveled, his clothes were wrinkled, and his eyes were red-rimmed, as though he, too, had spent some of the last several hours crying.

Bucky swallowed thickly. “I came to apologize if you’ll let me,” he said, looking intently at your face. “Shit, sugar– have you been crying? Did I– fuck– I made you cry, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, doll.”

You let out a short bark of a laugh. Part of you wanted to throw your arms around him, bury your face into his shoulder, and never let him go, but what he had said to you earlier in the day was… well, it was horrendous and uncalled for, and you couldn’t, out of respect for yourself, just let it slide without some kind of explanation, and some real groveling.

“Explain yourself,” you said shortly, crossing your arms over your chest once again, as though putting a physical barrier between the two of you.

Bucky swallowed and moved back toward your living room and began to pace. You followed, keeping a decent amount of distance between the two of you.

“I freaked out when I saw what was in that envelope,” he said. “As you no doubt know by now, I did a lot of shit, back when Hydra had me, that I’m not proud of. I’m… well, I guess you could say ‘sensitive about it’ would be an understatement. I carry a lot of guilt for what they made me do, and a lot of shame. Ever since I…” he paused, mulling over his word choice, “came back to myself, for good, I’ve been trying to make amends for all the harm I caused. To make things right. I know I can never erase all the pain I inflicted, bring back the people I killed, but I try to… to make things better. Where I can.”

He slumped down into one of your armchairs, a look of defeat crossing his handsome features. “It’s never going to be enough,” he sighed. “I know that. There are always going to be people who look at me, and only see the Soldier. No matter what I do, how much I atone, or how many lives I save, they’ll never see Bucky Barnes.”

“I told you from the beginning, Bucky,” you said, leaning against the wall that divided the living room from the kitchen, “it was obvious to me that you were blameless. A victim. And so, for you to accuse me of getting off on—”

“I know, sugar,” Bucky interrupted. He was looking up at you with sorrowful eyes. “I never should have accused you of that; I was an ass. I was…” he averted his eyes, embarrassed to admit this next part to you. “I was afraid.”

“Afraid.” You rolled the word around on your tongue. “Bucky, you’re a super soldier. A fucking Avenger. What the hell do you have to be afraid of?”

“I was afraid that if you saw the real me, what I had done, you’d run screaming in the other direction,” he admitted without looking back at you. “Or, that the only reason a dame like you could be interested in a guy like me was because you were attracted to the darkness. To the monster. That it wasn’t actually me you were into, but the Soldier.” He finally looked up at you in time to see the puzzled look you gave him.

“It happened before,” he said, voice low and shamed. “There was this girl– her name was Jessica– and I thought I was in love with her, you know? Thought maybe I’d finally found my person. Was gonna ask her to move in with me but, turns out she just had a thing for the Soldier. She got off on the violence of it.” He looked down at his vibranium hand, flexing and unflexing his fist. “The old one did so much damage. They had me use it to hurt so many innocent people, and then I found out she searched for Winter Soldier choke porn on my computer. This thing that had caused so much pain, brought me nightmares, that woke me up screaming at night, and it was her fucking kink.”

He looked back up at you, eyes desperate and pleading. “I couldn’t stand to go through something like that again. Not with you, Major. Especially not with you. So, I panicked, and I was an ass, and I hurt you before you could explain, because I didn’t want to give you a chance to hurt me.”

You sighed and moved away from the wall. He was weakening your resolve to be pissed at him by the second. In fact, your heart was breaking for him.

“And now I’ve ruined things between us,” he said, “before they even really had a chance to begin.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am, and I understand if you don’t want to forgive me. I was awful. I just… I just want you to know that I’ll always look back on the time we spent together as some of the best days of my life.” He made a move to stand up, but you took a step toward him.

“Oh my god, sit down, you idiot.” You walked closer, putting both your hands on his shoulders and slowly moving down to straddle his lap, his hands slipping almost subconsciously to your waist. “I don’t know if this is going to come back to bite me in the ass or not, but I forgive you.” You draped your arms around his neck and softly kissed the corner of his mouth. “Were you dumb? Yes. Did you overreact and behave like a child? Yes.” He narrowed his eyes at you, but you just playfully wrinkled your nose at him.

“But are your concerns understandable, after everything you’ve been through? Also, yes.” You began to toy with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “Next time you find yourself feeling like that, or questioning my motives, please promise me that you’ll talk to me instead of yelling at me and icing me out, okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, nodding profusely, “I can do that. I promise.”

“Good. Now, I feel this goes without saying, but I want to make sure we’re both on the same page, here,” you said to him. “ I did not seek out those documents. Someone sent them to me, anonymously. I didn’t tell you about them when I got them because I didn’t want to offend you or remind you of a past I know you don’t enjoy reminiscing about. I meant it when I said that I only want you to tell me if and when you’re ready, so I hadn’t done more than peruse the documents to get an idea of what they were and see if there were any hints as to where they came from. The only clue I have to the sender’s identity is a note where they wrote “Do you know who you’re fucking?” in black marker, but the letters are all blocky, so it’s not even like I can compare handwriting samples or something.”

Bucky’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Oh, shit. Sugar, I’m so sorry. If someone is targeting you because of me…”

You blew out a raspberry and waved your hand dismissively. “I’m a big girl,” you told him. “I can take care of myself. I have a ton of guns and awards for marksmanship, so don’t worry about me.”

A corner of Bucky’s mouth tugged up. “That’s actually really hot,” he admitted. “Remind me to take you on a date to the shooting range sometime.”

You tried to bite back your grin, but failed miserably. “Cheeky of you to assume there’ll be more dates,” you teased him.

Bucky tightened his grip around your waist. “Are you saying there won’t be?” He looked genuinely concerned, and you didn’t want to tease him.

“That’s gonna depend on you, Bucky,” you told him. “I’m not Jessica, and I’m not going stand by and let you punish me for the ways she mistreated you. I can tell you right now: if you ever talk to me again the way you talked to me in my office, it will be the last time you ever talk to me, at all, do you understand?”

Bucky nodded. “I don’t want to lose you, Major,” he said, and you could feel the sincerity in every word; and you hoped that he would be true to his word. “I promise to never let my anger get the best of me and speak so disrespectfully to you ever again.”

You nodded, satisfied for now. “Good,” you said, standing up from his lap. “Then we can call it a night.”

Bucky rubbed his hands on his knees and stood up. “Uh, yeah,” he said. “I’ll, uh, just be heading back to the Compound, so…”

You tilted your head. “No. It’s late, Bucky. Come to bed.” You reached out a hand, and Bucky’s entire demeanor changed, his face lighting up with surprised, but cautious delight.

“Really?” he asked, as though he almost expected you to pull your hand away from him and tell him you were just joking.

You shrugged your shoulders. “I missed you,” you said simply. And it was true– it had only been a few hours, really, since your fight, but you had missed him. You had seriously considered that the two of you might be over for good, and you didn’t want to waste an opportunity to be close to him.

Bucky reached for your hand, pulling you into him in the process. You let out an ‘oof’ as you collided with his chest, but soon his arms were around you, the fingers of his flesh hand tangling in your hair.

“I missed you, too,” he said, leaning down to kiss you, and you felt yourself melt into his hold, the rough skin of his calloused right hand dragging along the exposed skin of your hip, the cold metal of the left tracing delicate patterns up and down your side. You could forgive him practically anything when he kissed you like this.

“We should go to sleep,” you said, breathlessly pulling away from his lips, “before we get ourselves worked up into a situation.”

He followed you into your bedroom, and you did your best to not ogle him as he stripped down to his boxer briefs. The second he joined you under the covers, you scooted over to snuggle yourself against him.

“You said we can’t get each other off,” you reminded him as you burrowed your head against his hard chest and rested a hand on his ass. “You didn’t say I couldn’t cop a feel.”

Bucky chuckled, wrapping his arms around you, and you could hear the rumble of it through his skin. “Yeah, that’s definitely a loop hole, sugar,” he said. He kissed the top of your head and rested his cheek against it. Slotting his knee between your thighs, the two of you fit together like perfect puzzle pieces.

“Goodnight, Bucky,” you said, trying to fight off a yawn.

“Goodnight, doll,” he replied, running his hands up and down your back. “Thank you for giving me a second chance. I promise, you won’t regret it.”

As you drifted off to the sound of his heartbeat, you couldn’t help but hope he was right.

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