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fablesrose · 3 months ago

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Season 3

Ch 19 - The Jailhouse Job

Series Rewrite Masterlist

Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Ford!Reader

Description: Nate is now in jail for the stunt he pulled last season saving the team. Despite this, he still finds a job in taking down his warden.

Words: 7.7k

A/n: Hey guys, sorry this took so long. This summer has been busier and more stressful than I had anticipated with work, trying to figure out my physical health, and a number of other factors in regards to my future. Unfortunately I am still under a lot of stress, so I'm unsure how regular updates will be, but I'm hoping to post once or twice a month for now. I've been so touched by the support coming through and the desire for this series to continue and I am so thankful for all of you, I hope you enjoy!

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I stared at my laptop sitting on the coffee table in my living room. Over the past month that Nate has been in jail awaiting trial, I have been contemplating what my next steps should be. When I started working with the team full time, I had temporarily shut down my socials and suspended my website for freelancing. Still, I had a somewhat regular stream of repeat clients asking if I had any project openings. Thus far I had simply told them that no, I didn’t have any openings and possibly even pointing them to possible alternative freelancers that I had worked with previously and thought they did a good job.

Did I take it back up again? Was this last job with the mayor and Nate going to jail the sign that I needed that this was the time to walk away? If it was, could I really follow through? Or was I so deep into this already, in too deep with the team, too deep into crime, in too deep for Eliot, that I wouldn’t be able to get out until the whole world fell apart?

And so, I just started at my laptop. At my emails, sitting in my inbox. They might as well have been collecting dust. I sat, thinking about everything and nothing at all.

I wasn’t sure how long I had been there when a knock came to my door.

“It’s open,” I called, remembering that I hadn’t locked the door when Sophie came and went earlier today to check on me.

I didn’t move from my spot, staring at my laptop. It felt as if my eyes were glued to the spot, that pulling my gaze away would be painful, or at least physically difficult.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The deep voice floated to my ears, one that I wouldn’t forget. It somehow pulled my eyes from where they were nailed in front of me towards the door where Eliot stepped through carefully.

“Hey,” I said softly in reply.

“How’re you holding up?” He stepped around the furniture till he found a chair he liked near where I was sitting.

I sighed, “Okay. Those first two weeks I was so stressed that I don’t remember much, to be completely honest. Now I’m just tired and trying to figure out what to do next.”

He tilted his head a fraction, “Like what? What to cook for dinner in the next day or two or…”

I huffed, “More like what to do with my life.”

Eliot’s brow furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean? You’re gonna stay with us right? Help us break Nate out of prison?”

My lips curled into a small, but sad, smile, “Do you guys even still want me around when Nate’s not here?”

He scoffed, “Are you kidding? Of course we do. Didn’t you hear Nate on that boat? We’re family. To be honest sweetheart, I think we all like you better anyway.”

My smile cracked into a wider one, “Really?”

“Really.”

We just sat looking at each other for a few moments before my eyes dropped to my hands for a moment, “So, uh, where you just popping by to check on me or…”

He coughed, “Uh, actually I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, uh, remember the job we did in LA? With the two David statues?”

I raised an eyebrow in confusion, “Where I met you and helped with my first job? That happened well over a year ago? Yeah, what about it?”

He agreed that we were thinking of the same event and stuttered over his words a bit, trying to figure out how to articulate what he wanted. Eventually he said, “I just… I wanted to let you know that I’m glad I met you and inadvertently pulled you into the job.”

This conversation felt like it was getting deeper and more heartfelt with every exchange, and I wasn’t sure if I liked it. It was nice, in an uncomfortable kind of way and I knew he meant well, but I couldn’t stop myself from lightening the mood a bit with a more awkward angle. “You mean that you’re glad Maggie brought me along on your date?”

Blush rose across his face and scrunched in what seemed like disappointment, “It was Nate’s idea. For the record, I would have rather taken you out on a date, but Maggie had the museum access.”

That stopped me in my tracks and it was my turn for blush to spread across my face and surely my neck and ears. I wasn’t sure what to reply, so I didn’t even try.

Eliot seemed to register what he said, and quickly changed the subject, “Besides that, we kind of came up with a plan to break Nate out. Sophie is heading to the jail and is going to tell him. Do you wanna come over and listen in?”

I could still feel my heart racing, but this was a good excuse to get out and escape the hypnotizing gaze of my laptop. And if it got Nate out of prison and the team back to rockin’ and rollin’? Then it was a double or even triple win in my book.

We crossed the hall to Nate’s apartment where the team has continued to meet up and use as their - our? - headquarters. I had been unsure of how I felt being in there with Nate being in jail so I hadn’t come over very often. Hardison did make another upgrade to the room with a tall desk facing the screens placed behind the couch wide enough to fit all of us.

When we walked in Sophie had begun explaining the plan to break Nate out. Hardison was somehow channeling the conversation through the speakers like a phone call so everyone could hear and had the security footage on the screen so we could watch. Sophie and Nate were separated by some sort of plexiglass as they chatted from the prison phone booths. I had gone a couple of times to visit him so I was somewhat familiar with the room. It all seemed performative, the glass walls for some sort of privacy, the plastic phones to talk through even though you could still hear through the glass. All for the illusion of separation.

From what I gathered of the plan, we would have to break him out directly after his hearing at the courthouse. Eliot would take out any FBI agents and guards on the outside. Parker would be waiting in the elevator shaft to do the actual breaking out of the cuffs and his guards. The rest of us are on distraction and misdirection duty until we can all load up and drive away.

“No,” Nate said when he heard it.

“No!?” Sophie replied.

“Uh… no,” he repeated.

“What do you mean no?”

“It’s a horrible plan. None of it times out, and there’s no way you can get to the car that fast,” Nate explained.

“Ah, but you’d have to admit, it’d be a lot more dramatically satisfying if I’m the one driving the getaway car.”

I shrugged in partial agreement to the both of them. The way Sophie explained the plan was for her to meet Nate right when he came out of his courtroom, putting her behind him in getting out of the building. Nate was right, where it would be impossible for her to be driving the car to pick them up (the way she described it), but she was right that it would bring a full circle moment to the operation.

“You know they record these calls,” Nate whispered, as if it would help. Sophie raised a cellphone at him that was plugged into the wall next to the prison phone she was talking to him through.

“I created a carrier signal for our conversation,” Hardison explained, “But I’m dumping another conversation onto the prison recording system.”

“Spanish soap opera?” Eliot asked as he passed a beer to Hardison and my drink of choice to me.

“Oh yeah, check it out man. Look, it turns out Pepe’s twin brother Peppi is actually Guadalupe’s baby’s daddy.” Hardison explained the plot he was transmitting to the recording system.

“You seriously keep up with that?” I asked. I could vaguely hear it in the background of his systems.

Hardison shrugged at me.

“Is this thing two way?” I asked him.

“It can be, you wanna say hi?”

I casually nodded. Once he gave me the go ahead I said, “Hi Nate.”

He startled a bit on the camera feed when he heard my voice, “Hey Birdie.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing, “You didn’t have a hand in that plan, did you? Because I would expect better from you.”

Sophie looked a little offended in the camera feed.

I laughed, “No, I haven’t had any involvement in anything until just now.”

“What have you been doing the past couple of weeks, then?”

I rolled my eyes, “having an existential crisis over what to do with my life. Do I go back to boring normalness or risk following your footsteps and landing in prison with you? Any advice? How’s the food? And the beds?” I said the last half sarcastically, but the first statement was very much true and I tried not to show it. At least, not too much.

Nate chose not to answer me verbally, but I watched as he twisted around in his chair until he found the camera pointed at him and Sophie and gave it a pointed glare.

“Hey,” I said flippantly, “you chose this. Don’t kill me for asking.”

Behind me, Parker walked in with a large duffle.

“He don’t want to do it,” Eliot told her.

“Aw, but I love jumping down elevators,” she reacted.

“I know,” Hardison validated.

“This is my special elevator rig he got me for Christmas,” Parker said as he put down the large bag.

“Alright, look, Nate, you took the fall for us,” Eliot began.

“After you lied to us!” Hardison cut in, “He’s a liar.”

“You took the fall for us.” Eliot continued, “You went to jail so we wouldn’t have to. We get that, so we’re square. But now, you’ve got to let us get you out of prison.”

“But if we’re gonna do that…” Parker added.

“And not all of us are convinced that we should,” Hardison also added which earned an raised eyebrow from me.

“Then we have to hit you at your next hearing,” Parker finished her thought. “That prison’s escape-proof.”

“Okay, you know what? Fine, Nate,” Hardison said. “We’re still out here, we’re doing the job. We help people nobody else helps. That’s important. You want to stay around and miss out just because you gotta figure out your guilty conscience, that’s your loss.”

Nate began to respond with his nervous ‘I’m explaining’ laugh when Hardison turn

“Guys, no.” Nate said firmly. He then spoke slowly, as if spelling it out for us, “I committed a crime, I got caught, now I’m going to serve my time.”

“Boo,” I said as I took a sip of my drink. “Can’t we live by the spirit of the law, not the letter?”

“And what law would make this okay?” Eliot asked skeptically.

I shrugged, “I don’t know, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness?”

“That sounds right,” Parker said, somewhat helpfully.

“Nate,” Sophie said pointedly. “What kind of world would it be if everyone who committed a silly little crime went to prison, huh? Complete madness!”

Those of us in the office shared a baffled look. While I was being somewhat contrary, it was clear that Sophie actually believed what she said. And I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

“Did you get the kielbasa?” Sophie asked.

Nate nodded and held up a packaged sausage with a bow on it, “yeah.”

“There’s an earbud inside,” she explained with a dramatic wink that I could see through the fuzzy camera.

“Now listen to me,” Nate doubled down, “in no way, shape, or form are you going to break me out of this prison. Understood?”ed his screens and programs off, cutting off the call.

“What a burn,” I said to the quiet room.

Eliot approached me, “Sorry about bringing you over here, that wasn’t how I thought that was gonna go.”

I shrugged, “I’ll admit, it stings a little, but that’s not your fault. You can never tell what Nate’s gonna do. Besides, you didn’t bring me very far and I got a drink out of it.” I raised my drink and Eliot tapped his beer against it.

“To whatever future you choose,” he said spontaneously.

“To whatever the future may bring,” I replied.

I stayed around and chatted for a little while, but eventually retreated to my own apartment. There were enough emotions for today.

A couple of days later Hardison invited me across the hall to help assemble or create a helicopter-esc gadget. The small talk didn’t last long and we slipped into a comfortable silence, the contraption alternating between us as we fiddled with pieces and screws.

“Were you serious, the other day?” Hardison finally asked, breaking the silence.

“About what?” I replied somewhat distractedly as I struggled to thread a screw correctly.

“About figuring out what you wanted to do now that Nate’s behind bars.”

“Oh.” I paused before answering, “I mean, kinda.” I kept my eyes on the pieces and focused on putting them together even though I could feel Hardison’s eyes on me. “I kind of wondered if him getting arrested was the universe’s way of telling me that this was the end of the line for me and this life. That the opportunity and path had reached a dead end and it was time to go back to where I belonged, with a quote on quote ‘normal’ life.” I could tell Hardison wanted to say something, but I continued before he had the chance. “But, I’ve mostly decided that I’ll stick around for as long as y’all let me, wherever it leaves me.”

“Y’all? Really? I think you’ve been spending too much time with Eliot,” Hardison teased at my unconscious choice of words.

I finally looked up at him, “Slip of the tongue from when I’ve said it ironically. I don’t know if I ever remember hearing Eliot say it.”

Hardison shrugged, “He’s some sort of southern, I’m sure he says it.” There was a lull between us before he continued, “But regardless, I’m glad you’ve decided to stick around.”

I smiled at him in appreciation when I heard Nate’s voice come out of his computer that was sitting next to us on the counter.

“Oh, no. Mnh–mnh,” Hardison replied immediately. “No, we extended our hand of forgiveness, and you slapped it away. Now go away.”

“Please, please, I just want you to check the records of inmate Billy Epping. Fast.”

It sounded like there was someone near him as a distant voice said, “Who are you talking to?!”

Hardison rolled his eyes and started typing on his laptop before pulling something up. “Whoa… Okay, uh, William Epping’s conviction was for transporting liquor across state lines, but his sentence was way longer than anyone’s received for that crime since, like, the Pilgrims, man.”

“That’s suspicious,” I commented.

“That’s weird,” Hardison continued, “Your warden was consulted on the sentencing.”

“That’s really suspicious,” I amended.

“It’s hinky,” Hardison agreed.

Nate then turned to who I assumed was Billy and assured him that we would check it out. He then apologized and there were some panicked sounds coming through his comm that wasn’t from Nate.

“Uh, Hardison, Y/n, why don’t you guys gather the team and get me a background check on the warden.”

“You stabbed me!” The other voice called.

“Oh, come on, just a little,” Nate minimized.

“Was that necessary, Nate?” I asked.

“Yes,” he responded without elaborating.

“Nate, did you find us a client in prison?” Hardison teased.

“Yes, we are going to help Billy Epping, and maybe take down a warden at the same time,” Nate said matter-of-factly.

Billy exasperatedly demanded who Nate was talking to and eventually came to the conclusion that he was going to pass out.

Hardison turned to me and muted us on the comm network, “What was that about signs of the universe?”

“I’m not sure what this sign is telling me other than that Nate, my uncle and the person who raised me, is insane. Which I already knew and am still figuring out how that reflects on me.”

“Fair.”

We gathered the team and started preparations to do some recon. Hardison did the background check on the warden, Adam Worth, and drew up some credentials for Eliot to go into the prison as a doctor. He would be there to keep Billy safe and give information to Nate. Parker and Sophie (she had told us her real name at this point, but wanted to be petty and not tell Nate, so it was easier to just call her Sophie) were going to be working the courthouse and judge, getting information on Billy and their relationship with Mr. Worth.

Hardison and I dressed up a bit to meet with Mr. Worth on the pretense of business.

“How I got started?” Mr. Worth repeated Hardison as he poured us some drinks, “Well, hedge funds, actually. And then a little bit of international finance. But then ten years ago, I hit on this – National prison properties. Get the government out of the justice business.” Everything that came out of his mouth sounded like a political slogan. This man seemed to be born a politician, and from what Hardison found on the background check, it seemed to run in his family. His grandfather, father, and brother were all in pretty powerful political positions, but the Mr. Worth that stood in front of us couldn’t seem to get elected in his campaigns.

When asked for our names, we introduced ourselves with the best English accents we could muster and maintain for this whole meeting.

“Brilliant,” Hardison remarked, “Corporate-run prisons, five facilities, thousands of inmates, it’s tremendous.”

“Indeed, it’s a marvel,” I added with a smile despite the fact that my thoughts and feelings on the matter were quite contrary.

Mr. Worth led us over to his sitting area of his office, Hardison came behind me as he took a step to Mr. Worth’s computer and planted a bug into his system.

“The U.S. has the fastest growing prison population in the world,” Mr. Worth explained. “Well, it’s like the real estate boom,” he laughed, “except of course, the problem with real estate, you eventually run out of land. You never run out of people to put in prison.”

“Hmm, we haven’t had much success in the private prison concept in England,” Hardison said. “Our investment firm has large real estate holdings for construction of facilities.”

“You see, any yahoo can lay some concrete and throw up some razor wire,” Worth countered. “The profit comes from proper management. For example, the big money for us is in prison labor.”

Hardison pulled out his phone to ensure that his bug was accessing the system, but this had him a bit distracted.

“Really?” I asked, pulling the attention to me and to keep the conversation going.

“Yes. Goods and services made by prisoners in America – two billion dollars a year. One out of every five office chairs and desks, made in America, made by convicts. And those jobs are not going to the Chinese,” he laughed and raised his glass in a cheers.

Around this time Eliot arrived at the prison infirmary and handed over his credentials. Before we left, Eliot was agitated.

“What’s up?” I had asked him.

“We tried to break him out, but now we’ve got to do this job. We shouldn’t just be at his beckon call after he ran a con on us,” he said through slightly gritted teeth.

“Well, when you see him, don’t rough him up too badly,” I commented, not denying his feelings. I was a bit peeved too, and I knew Eliot wouldn’t do something rash, I said it in a teasing way to try and lighten his mood.

He looked at me for a hard moment before he sighed, his shoulders dropping, “Fine, I won’t do anything.”

“I never said that,” I corrected, that teasing lilt still in my voice, “You can still scare him a little bit.”

His expression was a bit skeptical, but intrigued.

“Please? For me?”

His face broke into a smile, “Okay, I think I can do that, sweetheart.”

And he did once he and Nate were alone after he was introduced to Billy and assured he would be safe.

It sounded like they popped into a dental office to talk and with some rustling and clinking of buckles, it sounded like Eliot was physically strapping Nate in.

“Restraints,” Eliot said. “They’re in the infirmary manual.”

Then the sound of a dental drill came through the comms.

“That’s – uh – for the guards, right?” Nate asked with a bit of a nervous laugh.

“Do you know what I usually do, Nate, to the people that run a con on their own team?” Eliot asked seriously with a pause. “That almost get people killed, ‘cause they’re out of control?”

“Are we okay, Eliot?” Nate asked, that tone of nervous challenge shifting in his voice.

I smiled to myself behind my glass. Eliot knew what he was doing when it came to scaring people, even when trying to be subtle.

As an answer, Eliot turned the drill off and started relaying the information that we knew on Worth. He told him about his family’s political dynasty and his failure to get elected himself which led to him going the business route.

“Okay, first, we have to figure out how to nail the warden on whatever scam he’s running here,” Nate said. “Second, we’ve got to get Billy out of here in case things go bad.”

“Told ya, this place is escape-proof,” Eliot countered. “Twenty-first century prison, fewer guards, more tech. Infrared cameras, motion sensors, lockdown doors.”

“Okay, does Parker have any ideas?”

“She’s working with… Sophie.”

“What was that?”

“Sophie told us her real name. I’m not allowed to say it in front of you.”

“Seriously?”

“Her and Parker, they’re running the judge.”

At the courthouse, they were able to find a bunch of files of inmates and evidence of a safety deposit box. Hardison and I wrapped things up with Worth to go do some research and discuss what they found.

It turns out that the judge who sentenced Billy opened up a safety deposit box around the same time that he started sending civilians down for hard time. Four other judges seemed to do the same.

“I mean, there are hundreds of cases here,” Sophie said once she, Parker, Hardison, and I got back from our respective assignments. “And these are just the ones we found.”

“Records I pulled off of Worth’s computer show that each time an inmate checks in at Rockford, their judge gets an email. Now, it looks coded. I’m thinking, Cayman Islands bank account?” Hardison speculated.

“Hardison,” Nate said through comms, “private prisons have a contract with the state just like any company that provides a service. Now, do they have to maintain a head count?”

“Yeah, Rockford can’t drop below 70% occupancy. If they do, they lose their state funding. No state money, and they close. They came very close two years ago,” I answered.

“Hmm, so private prisons are like the hotel business. They live and die by occupancy, headcount. Now, Worth wasn’t gonna lose $100 million in profit just ‘cause he didn’t have enough hard-cases to fill the prison, so he puts a few judges on the arm to send him non-violent offenders, easy prisoners to supervise.”

“But why these people?” Parker asked.

“Because they’re citizens,” Eliot said as he walked in from the neighboring room. “‘Cause they’re honest, middle class citizens. These are the people, they don’t wanna cause any trouble. They can’t afford a lawyer, so if some judge sends them away, well, yes sir. They were taught to trust the courts.”

“They believe in the system,” I added, summing it up.

“So, Nate, whatcha got?” Sophie asked.

“Well, Worth makes money sending innocent people to prison.” Nate answered, “I have just the thing.”

To put it simply, Nate did have just the thing for Mr. Worth: make all of his ambitions come true and get him elected United States Senator.

Sophie got Worth on the hook for the election by posing as the current senator’s campaign coordinator, vying for reelection. Parker posed for pictures that got photoshopped to make it look like the current senator was having an affair. A scandal that could lose him his job. Hardison and I put together a campaign ad for Worth that Sophie also showed him and caught him hook, line, and sinker.

“Now, I’ve got to give it to you Nate,” Hardison said once Sophie got back. “Nobody can read a mark quite like you.”

“Oh, come on,” Nate replied, “he tried to run twice and failed. That had to have been eating at him. Now find me a way out of this place.”

“Oh, now he wants to get out,” I said sarcastically with the intent to tease, but Nate chose not to comment.

There was a pause before Eliot started speaking from inside the prison infirmary, “Billy showed me where he found the first dead gang member. Blind spot – no cameras.”

“Nice coincidence,” Nate acknowledged.

“Yeah, and Hardison checked the incident reports, all of them happened in camera blind spots – places convicts wouldn’t know existed.”

“Guards,” Nate concluded simply.

“They killed him, accident, whatever. They let Billy here find him, wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Can we use the blind spots?” Nate asked. “I really want a back door out of this place.”

“No, Nate, I can’t access those cameras from here,” Hardison said. “They’re dumb, they run straight to the server.”

“Yeah, and they could have upgraded the motion sensors and the infrareds since these plans,” Parker added. “You’re gonna have to map it out. Old-school.”

Nate and Eliot proceeded to map out the prison, finding every security camera, motion sensor, lock bolt, and heat sensor in the prison. Eliot marked it on his phone and Nate dictated it to us back at the office so we could map it both on a digital blueprint and a physical map taped to our clear erase board.

Once they had finished the rounds in finding everything Hardison said, “Nate, if you could see this, you would not be encouraged”

“Yeah, I see it,” Nate said a bit distractedly, telling me that he had it mapped out somehow and somewhere and he was looking at our predicament at that very moment. “I hope Sophie has more luck with the warden.”

“Who’s Sophie?” Parker asked.

“You remember, we’re not supposed to use her real name with, uh…” Hardison answered.

“Right, Nate hasn’t earned it yet.” Parker then started repeating Sophie over and over again in different pitches and tempos as if to remind herself.

It got to a point where I knew Nate must have been losing his mind and I was getting a bit irritated myself, so I took it upon myself to cut her off, asking her to show me the ranges of the security equipment we just mapped out to see if there were even slivers of blind spots. I already had an idea that there were very few if any, but it distracted Parker from saying Sophie over and over and helped me get a better idea of what we were working with. She happily redirected and started rattling off information at me and pointing at the map with Hardison piping up occasionally about a specific tech thing here or there.

Eventually Eliot came back and we started analyzing the digital blueprint we made of the security measures, trying to figure out how to get Nate an escape route.

“Alright, we cut that wire,” Eliot said, pointing at the screen.

“No, no.” Hardison said, “Look, once a lockdown is called, all these sensors go hot and all those door bolts drop into place.”

“I got it!” Parker said as she sat up from where she was lying down on the table desk. “The furnace room.” She then stood up and walked to the front of the room to face the rest of us who were extremely skeptical. “There’s no sensors because it’s too hot. They crawl straight down along the heating pipes until they reach the sewage system. Ha ha!”

“Now Parker, it’s a hundred and fifty degrees in there,” Nate pointed out through comms.

She paused before answering happily, “The average human can withstand that for 27 seconds.”

The boys rolled their eyes and turned away from her.

“Could they make that crawl in 27 seconds Parker?” I asked, trying to point out the problem.

She hummed and hawed for a couple of moments but before she answered, Sophie walked in.

“Worth is on the hook,” she said as she joined us in the living room, “But, with $250,000 of ours as a buy in.” She was referring to getting Worth to transfer a quarter million into a ‘campaign fund’ account, it seems he wanted us to match it.

“Ouch,” Nate commented flippantly.

“Oh, did I say ours? I meant, what’s left of your life savings. Yeah, we took it out of your account.”

I winced, but still had an amused smile since Sophie was trying to rub it in, but we had to use Nate’s money to make Worth look even more incriminating.

“Any luck here?” Sophie asked us, all of us answering in the negative, except for Nate.

“Yeah, yeah, got it,” he answered, convinced he was right. “B corridor, through to the kitchen, into the freezer, into the freezer air exchange, into the machine tunnels, which will lead me to the roof, or the parking lot.”

“You gotta beat the lockdown door to the corridor,” Hardison reminded him. “There’s a thousand pounds of pressure on that bolt.”

“There’s motion sensors in the kitchen,” Eliot said.

“And infrared in the machine corridor,” Parker added.

“All to get to the roof or the parking lot where you’ll be trapped and probably brutally gunned down,” Sophie pointed out. “Got a way out of that?”

“I’m working on it,” he replied, not as confidently, but still determined.

“Okay, you do that, I’m sure we have all the time in the world,” I responded a bit distractedly as I analyzed the blueprint in front of me, not seeing a possible way out, but there had to be one. There had to be.

Sophie and I were brainstorming with Nate on how to bypass the security measures and get out safely. We eventually got it mostly figured out with Nate taking the route he dictated. For the first door, he would need a wedge to keep it from latching. I proposed a folded up newspaper if he could get his hands on one. Parker said that if Nate could fog up the kitchen enough, he could bypass the motion sensors in the kitchen. If Nate could disguise his heat signature with materials in the freezer, he could get by that obstacle too. As for being trapped afterwards, we needed a distraction on the roof so Nate could get through the parking lot and into Worth’s car. He was the only one who could conceivably leave the prison in a lockdown.

Eliot, Hardison, and Parker went back to the prison to lay down some ground work and prepare for the escape. Hardison brought some clothes to switch with Worth’s drycleaning for Nate to change into afterwards. He was also going to tip Worth off that Sophie might be crooked. Eliot was there as physical backup and protection. Parker was going to be flying a remote controlled helicopter for the rooftop distraction.

I stayed behind with Sophie to make sure everything ran smoothly.

What we weren’t expecting was when Hardison was going to tip off Worth about Sophie, he got an urgent call that pulled him away from their meeting. Hardison checked Worth’s computer to find that all of the security cameras had been turned off, faking a system reboot.

“Eliot, get ready. They’re coming for Billy,” Nate said when Hardison told him what was going on. After a few moments of what sounded like Nate making preparations, he said, “Parker, please tell me you’re at Hardison’s new van.”

“Yeah, it’s really nice,” she answered nonchalantly.

“Did you bring it?” he asked, referring to the remote helicopter.

“Wait, are we doing that now?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna break out right now.”

I looked at Sophie. This was certainly unexpected, but hopefully we had prepared enough for it to pass.

“Sophie, y/n, I need you to help guide me through it.”

“We’re on the count,” Sophie immediately replied.

“Nate, when they call ‘lockdown’ every door in the prison seals tight,” I reminded him.

“Right, on it,” he answered.

There were a lot of thumps over the comms telling me that Eliot was keeping the guards at bay. I had to take a deep swallow when I heard him demand a guard look at him before he knocked him out.

“A little sloppy,” Nate told him when he arrived.

“New glasses,” Eliot explained.

Eliot was wearing glasses when I met him, though I didn’t know his name was Eliot or that he was the world’s best retrieval specialist at the time. Whenever his glasses are mentioned, my mind seems to slip back to then. How he brought me champagne, complimented me, listened to me. How warm his hands were when they brushed against mine. How I’ve come to learn that they are always that warm. And how gentle they can be when they held my fingers when he said goodbye with a slight bow. How as he stood back up the lights of the party glinted off his silver frames and made his eyes sparkle.

I had always wondered if they were real, but mostly assumed they were fake. Him using new glasses as a reason for him being sloppy made me think that they actually were prescription. I should ask him about that.

Nate grabbed Billy and they made a dash to the doors while ‘Lockdown’ got called over the intercom along with an alarm and a countdown. Billy lamented that they weren’t going to make it before the door closed and it sounded like he was right.

After a moment, I heard a door open and Nate say, “Newspaper folded eight times can hold a ton of weight.”

I smiled to myself as it sounded like he took my suggestion.

Sophie’s phone began to ring. She looked at it and tossed it to me, “It’s Worth calling the bank, stall him please.

I instantly answered the phone, thickening my voice to have a more pronounced Boston accent along with my customer service voice, “First Boston Independent Bank. How can I help you?”

“This is Adam Worth. I want to close an account. Move money out of it right now,” he said, somewhat out of breath and anxious.

“And what account is it?”

“$250,000, the Worth campaign fund.”

“I’m sorry, sir, for a transfer that large, we require an in-person request to verify identity.”

He sighed and immediately hung up.

“Well, that should stall him. He’s heading to the bank now,” I told the group even though I’m sure they heard already.

Nate and Billy got to the kitchen where they separated, Billy going further into the prison, and Nate starting his route out of it.

“Nate, the motion sensor,” Sophie reminded him.

“Steam’s filling up now,” he answered. I started gently chewing the tip of my thumb when he told us that he beat the motion sensor.

I sighed and released a bit of tension, but he wasn’t out of the woods yet. I could tell Sophie was feeling the same as I was as she continually told herself to breathe.

Soon enough he told us that he made it through the maze of security measures and made it to the parking lot where he was home free in Worth’s car, who was on his way to the bank.

Sophie and I let out a breath of relief. Now all that was left was to send some helpful anonymous tips to the State police, specifically, the newly promoted Detective Captain Bonanno, who was on the mend.

With Hardison switching Worth’s dry cleaning with some of Nate’s clothes, making them fit better than anything Worth owned for himself, it made Worth look like even more of an accomplice of his escape when Nate exited Worth’s car at the bank. Nate made sure to catch himself clearly on a security camera. Worth took all of the money out of the campaign account, including the $250,000 of Nate’s money, making it look like a bribe. It seemed like the judges that Worth had on his payroll would also be on the receiving end of an investigation since the police found a list of them in Worth’s car.

Now that that was out of the way, we all had to exit the city. Quickly. Hardison was getting flights and I had most of my essentials gathered so that we could all head to the airport as soon as Nate walked in the door. I had prepared to be a fugitive when we took down the mayor, but now it was actually happening with Nate escaping from prison. I had stepped across the hall to my own apartment to grab a couple more things. Just when I was zipping up my bag, I heard Nate open up his door across the hall. I exited my apartment just as the door closed behind him.

I crossed the hall and was about to open the door again when there was a very distinctive click of a gun, right behind my ear.

“Don’t move,” a voice said behind me. Based on my experience with Sophie, I should have been able to guess the accent, but I was a bit too preoccupied to really think about it.

I turned my head slightly to see that there were five men standing behind me. I wasn’t sure where they came from to get behind me so fast, but they were all armed and pointed their firearms at me and the door in front of me.

I did what he said and didn’t move. I knew that the rest of the team was going to be opening the door any second, so I willed myself not to cry. I took a deep swallow, but could feel my eyes start to sting. There was always something when it came to this team, wasn’t there.

I could hear Hardison through the door mentioning rendezvousing in Paris when the door swung open to reveal the team. He immediately paused and the moment I made eye contact with Eliot, he took a forceful step towards me, ready to fight. Nate stopped him, grabbing his arm, but Eliot still tugged a bit before halting. They both gave me reassuring looks with a fire behind their eyes when a woman walking down Nate’s stairs pulled everyone’s attention to her. The thought crossed my mind wondering how she got up there when there has always been at least one of us in the apartment. These guys seemed to move like ghosts.

“Buono sera, signor Ford,” she said, definitely Italian.

Nate stared her down, but his body language seemed relaxed considering there were still several guns pointed at the back of my head and through me to the rest of the team.

“Why don’t you have your boys here put their guns down and we’ll head downstairs to talk?” He phrased it as a question, but his tone made it sound like there was no room for argument. This was still a bit confusing to me as it seemed she had all of the leverage here, again, since I had several guns right behind me.

Luckily, she nodded. The men lowered their guns and I quickly walked through the door. The Italian woman gracefully followed Nate as he exited the apartment past me and walked down the stairs, closing the door behind them, keeping her goons in the hallway. I let out a shuttered breath, and Sophie comfortingly stroked my shoulder and arm. My bag slipped through my fingers and fell to the floor with a thump that startled me as I had forgotten I was even holding it.

It seemed to snap the rest of them out of it as well. Eliot stepped up to me, hands gently on both of my arms and looked me over, making sure I was okay. I just nodded at him to say that I was. Hardison and Parker were discussing who they were, why they were here, and where they came from.

“They came out of nowhere,” I said a bit distantly. “I blinked and they were behind me.”

“Highly trained,” Eliot said. “But you’re okay, you did good. You didn’t lose your head.”

“If you say so,” I let out another deep breath that made me feel a lot better. I walked over to a chair and flopped myself on it. “So, guess we aren’t going to Paris?”

Hardison looked at me, “Probably not anymore.”

“We have to figure out what that woman wants first,” Sophie said, sitting more gracefully in one of the chairs than I did.

Parker started spitting out theories which Hardison seemed to encourage with a couple of his own. The rest of us just sat in silence, knowing that this was more of a waiting game to see what Nate came back with.

It didn’t take long before Nate came back into the apartment, a full glass in his hand. We all sat around the table, anxiously waiting for what was in store for us. Nate didn’t leave us waiting as he told us who exactly the Italian wanted us to target.

“Are you out of your mind?” Sophie exclaimed. “Nobody touches Damien Moreau!”

“Nate, Moreau finances the Sicilians, the Russian mafia, the Colombian cartels,” Hardison rattled off.

“Yeah, he moves money for the North Koreans,” Eliot added, “stolen artifacts for Iraq, nuclear materials for Iran.”

“Moreau is the big bad,” Hardison emphasized. “He is the central bank for international crime.”

Parker was flipping through the files that the Italian had given to Nate and just barely spoke up, “Nate, these files are CIA, FBI, Mossad, Japanese security.”

I peeked over her shoulder to see that she was correct, these files came from every major government and security agency. I didn’t know who this guy was, but I could tell that we were in a real deep shit from both sides it seemed. Two parties, both very powerful and very connected.

“So… who is this woman?” Sophie asked.

Nate told us that while she confirmed she wasn’t police, she didn’t expand much into who she was. He also added that she gave us a six month timeline.

“She wants to hire us to go after Moreau? Absolutely not,” Sophie said, the others quickly following with similar sentiments.

It got to the point where the one sided argument started to get out of control so Nate had to stop them.

“Guys! Just wait a second. This is not a job.” He then proceeded to tell us that if we did it, we would be free of Nate’s… legal troubles, in so many words. If we failed, on the other hand, Nate would be imprisoned in an absolutely horrible way and the rest of the team would be killed. Nate wouldn’t even repeat what she said they would do to me.

“She’s blackmailing us?” I asked, both parts in disbelief and resignation.

Nate stuttered, trying to find a way to deny it, but eventually just agreed that yes, she was blackmailing us.

“Sucks to be on the wrong side of that, finally,” Parker said.

“You don’t have to say ‘finally’ as if it was inevitable, Parker,” I said with a sigh.

“Right now, they have the leverage, so what we have to do is we have to get it back,” Nate tried to say reassuringly.

I could tell I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t quite convinced.

“We can’t go straight at a guy like Moreau,” Eliot said. “They’ll vaporize us.”

“Right, so what we do, is we do like we’ve always done in the past: we do jobs that help people. Only this time, some of them are gonna lead us right to Moreau.”

“Okay,” Hardison said, but he didn’t sound skeptical, it almost sounded like he was on board. “I mean, I do have a pretty big client list waiting for us to check out.” Yup he was on board. Hardison pointed at Parker and she gave a shy smile that said that she was in too. “Oh, we back in business,” Hardison said with a smile.

Nate nodded and tapped an uneven rhythm on the table to somewhat signal that there was nothing else to discuss.

We all stood, walking away from the heavy conversation.

I eyed the glass of whiskey that Nate had been holding this whole time, made eye contact with Nate and then Sophie before deciding that I was going to make the choice to not worry about it. It wasn’t my problem.

“Well, I’m gonna head to bed and dream about the horrible life of servitude and death that I’m going to experience if we don’t pull this off in the next six months. Hope you all sleep better than me, and I will see you in the morning!” I called with faux cheerfulness as I walked out of Nate’s apartment to cross the hall to my own. I snatched my bag that I had dropped when I was released from the line of fire and dragged it to my apartment where I left it in a similar position, not wanting to deal with it at the moment.

I really just wanted to sleep.

A/n: Reblogs and comments are welcome and encouraged! Thank you for reading!

Tags: @instantdinosaurtidalwave @kniselle @technikerin23 @kiwikitty13 @plasticbottleholder @mushycore @who-actually-cares-anymore

#eliot spencer x reader #eliot spencer #leverage #rewrite #slow burn #multichapter #nate ford #sophie devereaux #alec hardison #parker #ford!reader

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castielific · 6 months ago

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20 questions for fic writers

How many works do you have on A03? 25

What's your total word count? 454 434 words

What fandoms do you write for? Supernatural. My first english fics were about Teen Wolf. Before that, I wrote in french about House MD and Stargate Sg1.

Top 5 fics by kudos:

Baby One More Time (sterek): 4 142 kudos

Carry You Home (sterek): 2 157 kudos

Fancy and the Tramp (destiel): 1 147 kudos

But she's the Devil in Disguise (sterek): 1 030 kudos

Grace my Soul (destiel): 891 kudos

Do you respond to comments?

Not all of them. Mostly because sometimes I'm not sure how to respond and feel ridiculous saying the same thing again and again. I appreciate them all though. They all make me so happy and I'm grateful to those who takes the time to leave one. They always make my day.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Like Clipped Petunias (destiel). This is my darkest fic. I've had people telling me they had PTSD from it. The end is really angsty and horrifying. It was not supposed to end this way, but this is where the story took me. In the end, I think it fits.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Grace my Soul (destiel) comes to mind. Baby Jimmy is such a delight and the last chapter of that fic is my favorite one.

Do you get hate on fics?

I don't remember ever getting any. I did have a few problems with people stealing my stories or posting them elsewhere. In the past, I also had a few stalkers/stans sending messages that creeped me out (especially for my french fics).

Do you write smut?

Yes! I didn't used to for Teen Wolf, but I've realized that fic with a higher rating tends to get more views (which I get because I rarely read pg13 or under myself), so I started writing it. I both love and hate writing those parts. It always feels kind of awkward to share those imageries, I'm never sure what words to use or how far I should go.

Craziest crossover?

I have a WIP that was a Psych/Teen Wolf crossover.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes. More than once. I've had a few cases of people putting their own name on my stories, but mostly people repost it without my consent on other websites such as wattpad. Ao3 is the only place I post, so if you see one of my story elsewhere, it's been stolen. Please warn me if you do.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! It's such an amazing thing to think about! I have had translations in spanish, russian and chinese.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Once or twice. To be honest, I think I'm too OCD for it to work, I want it exactly as I want it lol. Help from betareaders is precious though, sometimes they write a couple paragraphs for me, or help me reformulate some things better, or just brainstorm the stoyline with me and give me brillant ideas. Fics are always better with some help.

All-time favorite ship? Destiel forever bb

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Frozen Inside (sterek) is the only WIP I've ever posted. I feel terribly guilty about it because it's been more than half a decade now and people are still asking me for a sequel. Sometimes I read it over and try, but it's just...done. Thankfully, the last chapter could be taken as a end. Kind of. God, I feel awful and I'm so sorry.

I also have tons of unpublished wip that are nearly over. I wish I'll be able to end them, because there are some stories I really really like.

What are your writing strengths?

Hyperfocus. My best stories come out that way. I'll write fifty thousand words in two days or not at all. Sadly, I can't control it. Inspiration also tend to come at the exact moment I can't possibly write, which is sooo frustrating.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Description and world building. I tend to focus too much on the action and dialogues, but forget to tell about where they are and when. I let readers fill the blank way too often, which is something I really need to work on. I've been trying to rewrite some of my fics into original stories and that made it very obvious to me.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

It depends. Sometimes the translation is in the end note and it can put me out of the story, especially if it's an important part of the dialogue. If it's just a few words or if it's done in a way you understand it anyway, it can be beautiful!

First fandom you ever wrote in? Stargate SG1.

Favorite fic you've written?

The Guy Next Door (destiel), I think. I laughed, I cried, I squealed, I facepalmed. I must have looked like a maniac writing that story. Castiel was very fun to write for that one. Dean...I wanted to slap Dean so many times while I wrote. I had no control over him, I swear, he kept on being an idiot and made me scream at my screen.

I was surprised earlier, that this fic is not in the top five stories because it's one of my personal favorite.

This exercise was very fun to do. I won't tag anyone, if you feel like doing it, just do it, I'm curious to read about all of you!

#supernatural #destiel #dean/cas #destiel ao3 #ao3 #sterek #teen wolf #sterek ao3 #writing #fanfics #fics #fic stuff #spn #dean/castiel #deancas

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girltalkcollectives · 21 days ago

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How One Comment Shattered My Body Confidence at 16

Tw: body image issues, toxic relationships

I can pinpoint the exact moment I started hating my body. I was 16, wearing my favorite leggings, feeling cute — and then my boyfriend looked at me and said, “You could eat more and work out. Your ass could be bigger.”

Before that moment, I never thought twice about my body. Not once. I wore what I wanted. I ate what I wanted. I existed in my skin without constantly analyzing every inch of it. Imagine that kind of freedom.

It’s funny (actually, it’s not funny at all) how one comment can rewrite your entire self-image. One sentence. Twelve words. That’s all it took to make me start seeing flaws where I’d never seen them before.

Before him, my relationship with my body was… normal? Natural? I didn’t stand in front of mirrors picking apart my reflection. I didn’t compare myself to every girl on Instagram. I didn’t think about my body at all, really. I just lived in it.

God, I miss that girl.

After his comment, everything changed. Suddenly, I was hyper-aware of every curve — or lack thereof. I started doing squats in my bedroom. I downloaded fitness apps. I studied other girls’ bodies, trying to figure out what “better” looked like.

The worst part? He said it so casually. Like he was commenting on the weather. Like he had every right to suggest “improvements” to my body. Like my worth was somehow tied to the size of my ass.

I remember going home that day and standing in front of my mirror for what felt like hours. Looking at myself from every angle. Trying to see what he saw. Trying to understand what was wrong with me.

Nothing was wrong with me. But it took me years to realize that.

You want to know the real kicker? The relationship lasted three weeks. THREE WEEKS. But his words? They’ve lived in my head rent-free for years.

Now I’m 20, and sometimes I still catch myself:

Overanalyzing my reflection

Comparing myself to others

Second-guessing my outfits

All because some 16-year-old boy, who probably still thought Axe body spray was peak hygiene, decided to give his unsolicited opinion about my body.

I wish I could go back and tell my 16-year-old self:

Your body is not a project.

Your worth is not in your curves.

Your beauty is not determined by men.

Your existence doesn’t need their approval.

But most importantly, I wish I could go back and tell that boy to shut the hell up.

Because here’s what I’ve learned:

The problem was never my body.

The problem was a society that taught teenage boys they have the right to comment on women’s bodies.

The problem was a culture that convinced young girls that their value lies in being desirable to men.

The problem was never, ever me.

I’m trying to find my way back to that girl who never thought twice about her reflection. She’s still in there somewhere, beneath the layers of societal expectations and male opinions.

Sometimes I catch a glimpse of her:

When I’m dancing without thinking.

When I’m laughing without posing.

When I’m just existing without analyzing.

She’s there. And I’m learning to let her take up space again.

To any girl who had her self-image shattered by someone’s careless words: I’m sorry, and I want you to know — you were perfect before they tried to convince you that you weren’t.

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jcwriting · 4 years ago

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Written in the Stars

summary ↬ being soulmates with a werewolf? pretty easy. being jungkook’s soulmate? the easiest thing in the world. there’s only one teensy tiny problem. he doesn’t want to fuck you.

pairing ↬ werewolf!jungkook x reader

genre ↬ soulmate!au, abo verse, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort (this is so fucking dramatic and for what)

word count ↬ 10.4k my hand slipped

warnings ↬ swearing, angst (but with a happy ending bc im a sappy bitch), jk is stupid in love (emphasis on stupid), mentions of violence (very brief and i don’t go into too much detail but just to warn yall), slight nsfw (sex is a big topic for like half of this but not sex is had...i know im shocked too), half of this is background info/setting up the story the other half is finally addressing the summary lolol, jk is kind of an asshole but he has reasons!!!!!

authors note ↬ hello lovelies! here’s a small little thing for you all (laughs in 10k word count). this has been sitting in my drafts for fucking ever and i just needed to get it out there and out of my hands. im thinking about writing a part two where the actual ~*/sex/*~ is had but im still on the fence about that. please let me know what you think! i literally crave your interactions so pls dont be shy,,,,,okay love you bye :)

(ps i was so close to naming this Rewrite the Stars but since this has absolutely nothing to do with The Greatest Showman i didn’t. but i was close,,,,so fucking close)

You always knew Jeon Jungkook was destined for great things.

It was written in the stars, your mother had told you after he had first stepped foot into your family-owned grocery store. Your mother didn’t have any special powers, she just had a thing for astrology. While you normally shrugged off her random proclamations about divine intervention and planetary alignments, you found that Jungkook was something you couldn’t ignore or chalk up as your mother’s latest tea leaf reading.

From the moment you set eyes on him you knew he was different. While your family held zero claim to any sort of mystical or magical inclinations, you were well aware of those who did. It was no secret that non-humans roamed the Earth in plain sight, even though it had taken humans eons to realize this. After years of savage wars and civil unrest, agreements had come into place and governing bodies were adjusted to accept the changes that had finally been made. But, this was all before your time. You were the generation that was born into the period of peace, the first children to not experience bloodshed before they could walk. The world you knew now was almost a complete one-eighty of what it had been.

Where before those who were not of human blood had to do everything they could to blend in, now could be free of the shadows. Your classrooms had both humans and non-humans in their rosters. Some of your teachers were hybrids. Curriculum expanded to teach humans about a world that had once been entirely unknown to them. One of your favorite teachers was a witch who regaled your tenth grade class with stories of goblin wars, wizard duels, and vampire covens. All tales that you had once thought were nothing but fiction were now anything but.

Which is why, the second Jeon Jungkook entered the grocery store that your parents owned and that you had worked at since you were old enough to speak in full sentences, you knew who he was. You didn’t even question it.

He was a werewolf. A powerful one. You could see it in the way he carried himself. The purposeful strides he took down the narrow aisles, the confidence in his broad shoulders. Humans weren’t nearly as sensitive as their hybrid counterparts but you also paid attention in your classes. Or, perhaps you were more aware than other humans. Never in your life did you have the issues other faced when meeting a non-human for the first time. You always knew who they were without them having to tell you. You just knew.

So, when Jeon Jungkook stepped up to your register with a bottle of water and some raw beef, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t bend under his dark gaze or shuffle your feet in an awkward attempt to break the silence. Instead, you flashed him your customer service smile and rang up his items. He didn’t say a word as he paid, barely sparing you a second glance as he strode out of the store.

“He’s going to be a great and powerful man,” your mother said in that feathery light voice of hers. “It was written in the stars.”

You couldn’t help but agree.

Jeon Jungkook came into your store everyday for the next month. He bought the same thing every time. A bottle of water and a package of raw beef. The only time he spared you any words was to say thank you or the occasional hello if the sun was shining. Usually, he was alone. Sometimes, he came with a few members of his pack. You liked those days. He smiled a little brighter and talked a little louder when they were around. Especially around Taehyung.

Then, after a month, he didn’t come in. Not for an entire week. From Monday to Sunday, you hadn’t seen a hide nor hair of him. A part of you was worried, so worried that you almost stopped Taehyung in the middle of the street to ask of Jungkook’s whereabouts before realizing how insane that made you look, the other part was chastising yourself for caring. Jeon Jungkook was a customer. Nothing more, nothing less.

The following Monday had come and you had finally stopped glancing at the sliding doors every five minutes. You no longer expected his commanding presence to rock your little world. Instead, you continued your day as if it had been any other. That was, until, Jeon Jungkook stepped through the entrance looking as if he was walking on air. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“Did you have a good heat?” You asked when he stepped up to your register. Jungkook fumbled the water bottle he had been setting onto the conveyer belt before turning to stare at you.

“What did you just say?”

You didn’t shrink under his intense glare. “I was asking if you enjoyed your heat. Seems like you did.”

“How do you know I was in my rut?”

“Oh, is rut the correct terminology? Sorry, they always interchanged them in class, I was never sure what was appropriate.” You shrugged and rang up his items. “It was kind of obvious, though. You seemed pretty agitated about a week-and-a-half ago, then you disappear for a week, and now you’re back looking happier than ever. If it wasn’t your rut then I want to know where you went on vacation because that’s where I’m heading to next.”

Jungkook laughed. That almost made you jump out of your skin. You had never heard him laugh before. It was throaty, it was deep, and it was wonderful. “I’ll be sure to send you the link to the Airbnb.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

He smirked. “I’m here every day, aren’t I?”

You tilted your head as you accepted the cash he handed to you. “Clearly, you’re not that reliable.”

Jungkook laughed again. It was becoming your new favorite sound. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to appear flaky.”

“You’re forgiven,” you decided as you handed him the plastic bag of his purchases. Teasingly, you added, “just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

He flashed you a smile that showed off his sharpened canines. “Don’t worry, darling. I never make the same mistake twice.”

Jeon Jungkook kept his promise. He showed up everyday, like clockwork. Bought the same thing. Arrived at the same time. The only thing that changed was how he treated you. It wasn’t that he treated you badly before, he had always been polite. But now, he talked to you. He asked you questions and answered yours. More often than not, he laughed.

(It had become your favorite sound.)

For three months, this continued. The two of you had settled into a comfortable routine, something you relied on and expected. Until, he changed that.

Until, Jeon Jungkook asked you out on a date.

“What did you just say?”

“Are you free? Tonight?” You glanced around, almost expecting to see some sort of supermodel posing behind you to explain the absolute absurdity of the situation. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for the hidden cameras. I think I’m getting Punk’d.”

Jungkook sighed and placed both hands on the counter that separated the two of you. “Look at me.” You did. Slowly and warily, but you did. “Does it look like I’m lying to you?”

Narrowing your eyes, you regarded him carefully. He seemed serious. But, then again, do you ever really know someone? “I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen you lie before so I wouldn’t know the difference.”

“Fine. Ask me what color my shirt is.”

“What color is your shirt?”

“White,” he deadpanned. You glanced down at his chest. His shirt was black.

“Jungkook!”

He threw his head back and released a full bellied laugh. Even in your exasperation you couldn’t help but soften a little. “I’m sorry, darling. I couldn’t help myself.” Annoyed, you huffed and spun to face the cash register. Stabbing your finger onto the touchscreen, you ignored Jungkook’s obvious presence on the opposite side of the counter. Until his hand reached around the card reader and grasped a hold of your chin. The warmth of his fingers forced your head to turn to meet his.

“Come to dinner with me.” His voice was nothing but a rumble in his chest, his eyes so black and all-consuming you couldn’t do anything but agree with him. He seemed pleased by your response as his fingers tightened against your skin and a grateful smile flicked past his lips. His gaze darted down to your mouth and your breath froze in your chest.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to?”

“No.” You tried to shake your head but his grip didn’t allow you much movement. He was taken aback by your answer, a small frown tugging at his mouth. You quickly backtracked to fix the situation. “I don’t want our first kiss to be in a grocery store. That’s a new low that I refuse to reach.”

Jungkook chuckled and tapped your chin gently. “Alright, darling. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Again, he kept his promise to you. He showed up at your parents house exactly at seven, wearing a button-down shirt and slacks. The tulips he had gotten for you was thrust into your hands the moment you opened the door. Flashing him a genuine smile, you hurried into the kitchen to set them in water while your mother grilled him on his birth time. You were quick to drag him away, practically throwing him towards the car as you waved goodbye.

“Sorry,” you sighed as Jungkook opened the passenger door for you. “She has a…thing for astrology. She’s probably creating your star map or whatever right now.”

“It’s okay,” he responded once he got into the drivers seat. “It’s sweet of her to care.”

You snorted. “She’s delusional is what she is.”

“So, you’re saying you don’t believe in astrology?”

“Do you?”

Jungkook shrugged as he pulled out of your dirt driveway. He looked so damn attractive behind the wheel it was honestly unfair. “Not really saying I do or don’t. All I know is that there are a lot of things out there that are out of our control. If believing in the stars and planets helps you gain some of that control back, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“God, don’t talk like that in front of my mother. She’ll want to start dating you.”

He grinned and placed a hand on your knee. “Tell her I’m already taken.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond to that. Not that he didn’t give you one, it was just that you literally had nothing to say. With just one sentence he opened the floodgates of your brain and the amount of thoughts that were flying through your conscious was painful. Anxiety fluttered in your stomach and you pressed your lips together to keep you from word vomiting onto him. No, it was better to keep your mouth shut and let the moment pass.

By the time you reached the restaurant you were a trembling mess of nerves. Were you guys dating? You thought this was just a ‘testing the waters’ date, not a ‘you’re my girlfriend now’ date. Did you have to make it Facebook official? You hated that shit.

Jungkook didn’t comment on your obvious distress, though. He merely placed a hand on the small of your back, ignoring how you jerked in surprise, and led you into the quiet bistro. Nodding politely to the hostess who was practically panting at the sight of him (you honestly couldn’t blame her) and pulled out your chair for you. When he sat down, he started talking. Idle chat at first. Commenting on one of the dishes, asking about the college classes you were taking at your local university. Before you realized it, wine was in your glass and your shoulders were loose. Previous nerves forgotten, you lost yourself in Jungkook. You drank, you ate, you laughed, and genuinely enjoyed his company. Honestly, it was the best date you’d ever been on.

“I have to be honest with you,” Jungkook spoke after he finished his raw steak. “I have an ulterior motive for asking you here tonight.”

“Oh,” you mumbled around the shrimp you had just tossed in your mouth. “So…this isn’t a date?”

“No, it is,” Jungkook clarified quickly around a dry chuckle. He seemed…nervous. It put you on edge immediately. “This is definitely a date. And, also, more.”

“More? What, is this a proposal too?” You were joking. A 100% joking. But Jungkook was staring at you so seriously it made you panic. “Jungkook, if you get down on one knee here I swear-”

“I’m not proposing,” he assured you. “This is something more than that.”

“More?” You parroted. Jungkook sighed.

“Do you know what a true mate is?”

Right there, in that quaint little bistro, on a date with quite possibly the most untouchable man you’d ever met, he explained how you were irrevocably his. His true mate, his soulmate.

Jungkook explained everything in great detail, which you appreciated, because honestly, you had no words. He explained how when he was born, the witch who cared for him told his father that his future glared brightly ahead of him, but only when he met his other half. True mates were rare. Mating was common, the wolves in his pack could have multiple mates or a lifelong one, but true mates were destiny. Someone or something out there had forged the two of you together. You were essentially each others other half. He was made for you and you were made for him.

“But…aren’t true mates only for wolves? I thought it’s impossible for a human to be a true mate,” you asked in a shaky voice once Jungkook took a breath.

“It was supposed to be impossible. Until, I met you.” Jungkook stared at you with a sort of reverence that made your entire body blush. “I have no idea how you are. I’ve spent hours researching. I’ve consulted with members of my pack and others. No one knows why.”

“Are you sure, though? I mean…what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.” Jungkook shook his head. “I visited the witch right after I met you. She took one look at me and told me that I had finally found my true mate. She said she’d never seen a future so bright before.”

You had no words for that. For the first time in your life, you were speechless. Jungkook seemed to understand. He let you sit in silence as he paid for the bill and walked you out to the car. The drive back to your parents house was the same. You couldn’t speak. The shock rendered you stupid.

By the time Jungkook pulled into the driveway you still hadn’t spoken a word to each other. You stepped out of the car before he could open the door for you. Walking up to the porch steps in a trance, you didn’t hear him follow you until he clasped your wrist in his hand. Turning to face him, you were surprised to see his brown eyes so big. They practically sparkled in the moonlight and he looked so soft and sweet you nearly melted into the wood beneath your feet.

“Please,” he whispered. “Can you…just - are you okay? You’ve been so quiet. I’m worried I’ve scared you off or something.”

With that voice, it was impossible to deny him. So, you said the first thing that popped in your head. “Do we have to make it Facebook official?”

Jungkook stared at you before bursting into laughter. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”

You blushed and glanced down. “I’m just worried, that’s all. I can’t remember my Facebook password so even if you wanted to change it I don’t think it’ll work.”

“So that’s why you never accepted my friend request,” Jungkook teased. Before you could squeak out a response, he wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you forward. You kept your arms crossed across your chest but let yourself fall against him.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you whined as you buried your face into his shoulder. He smelled so good, a mixture of pine and spice. “My brain hasn’t worked since you told me I’m yours, so bear with me.”

Jungkook chuckled and gently swayed you from side to side. “Does that mean you’re okay with this? All of this?”

Sighing, you lifted your head up and stepped away from him. Jungkook was not impressed and pulled you back to him. Your heart swelled in your chest and you wrapped your arms around his neck in consolation. “Honestly? I haven’t really processed anything. You’ve had your whole life to come to terms with this. I just found out thirty minutes ago that I’m someone’s soulmate. It’s a lot to take in.”

Jungkook nodded as he tapped his fingers against your hips. “I know. It’s a lot…I’m a lot. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be with me. I won’t-”

Now it was your turn to burst into laughter. You couldn’t believe those words had left his mouth. It was easily the most absurd thing you’d ever heard. “Jungkook, I want to make something very clear. I have no problem being your true mate. That’s not the issue here. Well, there really isn’t an issue. It’s just…hard to believe, I guess. I have to process that this is my new reality.”

“Really?” Jungkook perked up and looked so fucking cute you couldn’t help but cup his cheeks. His skin was so warm despite the cold autumn air that surrounded you both. “You want to do this? Be with me? Be mine?” All you could do was nod. You were so overwhelmed with emotions. The shock was evident, but a piece of you was so happy. You felt whole.

Jungkook’s face split into a wide smile that caused his nose to scrunch up. He wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. Squealing, you slung your legs around his hips and held on. Normally, you’d rather die than show this much affection to someone. But, this was Jungkook. Your soulmate.

“So…what do we do now?” You asked once Jungkook set you down. “Is there, like, a ceremony or something?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted as he stared down at you. He had a hand against your jaw and was rubbing your cheek tenderly. “I really didn’t think I’d get this far.”

You scoffed at his ridiculousness. While recognizing you were Jungkook’s true mate was going to take some time, believing that he thought you’d deny him was utter nonsense. “What if…what if we date, first?” You suggested timidly. “I know that sounds kind of weird considering we’re supposed to be the loves of each others lives. But, I don’t really know you all that well. And, I think this is going to take sometime for me to get used to. Maybe we should date, get to know each other, and just learn how to be with one another.”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook agreed. “We can do whatever you want. Just as long as I have you, I’m happy.”

Two years passed.

Two blissful, wonderful years. Two years of dating, two years of loving, two years of being Jeon Jungkook’s. It was everything you could’ve asked for and more. You had never felt so loved and cherished in your entire life. He respected you, he took care of you, and most importantly, he was there for you in every sense. Since the moment you met him, you hadn’t been alone. He hadn’t let you. Jungkook knew you better than you knew yourself.

And, it was the same for him. You were there for him when he transitioned into the leader of his pack. You were there when he took over the CEO position from his father and encouraged and supported him every step of the way. You let yourself be loved and in return he let you love him. It was wonderful.

Except, for one tiny thing.

While the emotional aspect of your relationship flourished and bloomed into something beautiful, the physical side remained stagnant. Make out sessions and heavy petting were a norm in your relationship. At first, it didn’t bother you. In fact, you loved that Jungkook was taking things so slow and so seriously. But, eventually, your needs began to grow. You found yourself wanting him in more ways than one, wants that only he could satisfy. Jungkook refused. Every time.

It wasn’t like he refused your every need. No, Jungkook was extremely attentive. When it came to himself, that’s when things got dicy. He had no problem spending hours between your legs, worshipping you until you were crying from the overstimulation. Yet, he wouldn’t let you anywhere near him. Not without lack of trying on your part. The minute your hands went down to his waistband, he pushed you away. Every time you tried to dip your mouth to the obvious bulge in his pants, he lifted you up and kissed you breathless until you forgot your name. It wasn’t until after a year of dating that he finally let you grind on his clothed cock. Even then, he held off until you finished and then walked out with quite possibly the worst case of blue balls. You hated that he did this to himself. The worst part was, you couldn’t understand why.

The one time you had brought it up to him it had resulted in the worst fight the two of you had ever gotten into. It was the only argument that was never really resolved. After the yelling and the tears, all you got out of Jungkook was that mating with a wolf was not pretty. It was extremely dangerous and he refused to put you in that kind of danger. End of discussion. No matter how hard you tried to persuade him or broach the subject, he shut it down. Hard. Eventually, you gave up.

He even spent his ruts away from you. Every three months, he left you for a week. You knew he had a place somewhere up in the mountains and you assumed that’s where he went. You had no idea. There was no point even asking to come along. You loved your boyfriend and didn’t want to purposely give him a heart attack. You hated it when he left. As much as you tried to hide it and convince him that you were just fine, he wasn’t stupid. Being away from him was tough. A piece of you was missing whenever he was gone. And you were only whole again when he returned.

This past week had been one of those weeks. He had left on Sunday for the mountains. He was agitated and clingy, how he normally was pre-rut. Jungkook wouldn’t let you leave his side and you spent most of the weekend on his lap or wrapped in his arms. Not that you minded. When he left your parents house on Sunday night, you’d had to coax him out of the door. Promising him that you’d be okay and that you’d see him next week. It wasn’t until several kisses later did Jungkook finally leave.

While you’d been doing this for two years, it never got easier. More manageable? Sure. But definitely not easier. All you could do was go through the motions. You went to work at the local bakery, came home and helped your mom with dinner, watched TV with your dad before going to bed. Taehyung and Jimin would visit often, threatened by Jungkook to keep you company. While you assured them it wasn’t necessary, you secretly didn’t mind. They made you laugh and made you temporarily forget your boyfriend was miles away from you. Sometimes, if you were lucky, he’d call you to tell you goodnight. But those times were rare. Normally, you didn’t hear from him until Friday or Saturday when he was finally coming out of his rut and returning to the world.

By the time Sunday rolled around, you were a jittery ball of nerves. Not in a bad sense. You were just excited. The anticipation killed you and it took all of your willpower to sit and wait for his text to tell you to come over. Your parents always left you alone on these Sundays, unable to deal with your hyperactiveness and constant fidgeting.

This Sunday was no different. You puttered around your room for the better part of the day. You spent the other part in the kitchen, baking like your life depended on it. Jungkook loved your cookies and you always made sure to come over with at least three batches after his ruts. He always said that was his second favorite part about coming home, after seeing you, of course.

You had just finished packaging the final batch in a glass cookie jar when your phone dinged. You didn’t have to read the message, you knew exactly what it said. Pure joy rushed through your system as you threw on your coat and shouted a hasty goodbye to your parents. Juggling the cookies and car keys, you sprinted to your car. The drive to Jungkook’s was thankfully not long. About ten minutes, as long as you didn’t hit any traffic on the main road. Luck was on your side, though, and you showed up at Jungkook’s house in eight minutes.

Taehyung’s car was in the driveway when you pulled up, which wasn’t odd. Although Jungkook owned the house, the members of his pack were almost always around. While most preferred to travel in their wolf forms, you knew Taehyung and Namjoon preferred cars. Something about being able to listen to their own music without comments from the peanut gallery. You didn’t really understand and didn’t really need to. You had just chalked it up as one of their many quirks.

Carrying the trays of cookies in both hands, you shut your car door with your foot before speed-walking up the stone walkway to Jungkook’s home. The screen door was shut, but the wooden door was swung wide open. You had just reached for the metal handle when you heard it.

A deep, threatening growl ripped through the peaceful quiet and froze you in place. You knew it was Jungkook. While you had only heard it once, you’d never forgotten it. It was when the two of you had attended a party and an alpha from a neighboring pack had cornered you in the hallway. Jungkook had found you cowered against the wall as the other alpha had caged you in. The sound that had left his chest had given you equal parts comfort and fear. Comfort, because he was there and you knew you were safe. Fear, because you could see in the way he bared his teeth and how his muscles vibrated, he had been furious and bloodthirsty.

That’s what you felt now, fear.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

From your vantage point in front of the screen door, you could see directly into the kitchen. Taehyung was leaning against the granite countertop and Jungkook was seated at the island. The tension was so thick you practically choked on it.

“Enough, Taehyung.”

“No,” Taehyung snapped, seeming just as angry as Jungkook. “I’m not dropping it. Not this time.”

“Yes, you will,” Jungkook snarled. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Too fucking bad.” While Taehyung was also an alpha, he acted so much like a beta you never really noticed. Until now. “I’m not going to sit by and watch you do this to yourself anymore. Not spending your ruts correctly is only causing you more harm than good.”

“I’m doing things the way I want to, and it’s working-”

“The hell it is!” Jungkook growled at the interruption but Taehyung ignored him. “It’s not working, and you know it. Anyone with two fucking eyes knows it. It’s getting so bad that the pack is noticing, too. Even Namjoon has realized something is wrong, and he’s as oblivious as they come.”

“If they have a problem with me they can take it up with me.”

“No, they can’t. Because you won’t listen. Your head is so far up your ass you can’t even hear yourself anymore. What you’re doing right now is not working. Something needs to change.”

“Like what?” Jungkook spat.

“You know what,” Taehyung bit back. Jungkook was practically vibrating from rage. You knew you needed to go get someone, someone from the pack to calm the two of them down. Things were only escalating, but you couldn’t move. Your brain screamed at you to run but your legs were rooted in place. “That’s is what’s so frustrating, Jungkook. This, all of this, could be solved. She’s right there-”

“Don’t.” Jungkook stood up so fast the chair he sat on flew backwards and hit the wall with a resounding crack.

“Why?” Taehyung threw his arms up in the air. “Why not? I don’t get it-”

“Because I don’t want her!” Jungkook yelled, the force of it rang throughout the house. You had no idea who the she was that they were referring to. You assumed it was someone from the pack. It was well-known that wolves with human mates sometimes turned to other she-wolves to help with their ruts. You figured that’s what Jungkook did whenever he went away for a week. It had bothered you at first, but you knew he had his needs and that they were at a biological level. You refused to make him feel guilty or ashamed for taking care of himself.

“You don’t want her?” Taehyung was enraged. You could tell by the way he straightened his spine and unfurled himself to his full height. Jungkook bristled in response and the muscles in his back strained against the thin material of his shirt.

“No, I don’t!” Jungkook exploded. “What don’t you understand about that? I don’t want her around me. I don’t need her, I’m fine on my own. The thought of having her there when…God - it makes me physically ill.”

“She’s your girlfriend. Above all of that, your true mate. You’re seriously going to deny yourself of her, for what? Just because you don’t like having her around?”

Oh.

That’s when it hit you. They weren’t talking about some random she-wolf. They were talking about you. You were the one Jungkook didn’t want. You were the one Jungkook didn’t need. You were the one he didn’t like having around. As the weight of the words sunk into your mind, you felt your chest becoming tighter and tighter.

Then, you’re heart broke right in half. You dropped the container of cookies and didn’t flinch when it shattered against the wooden slats. The sound unstuck your feet from their position on the porch and your fight or flight system took over. Without a second thought, you turned on your heel and ran.

You didn’t know if anyone was behind you, you didn’t turn around to check. Hands fumbled for the car door as you threw yourself into the drivers side. Pain ricocheted throughout your chest cavity and you struggled to breathe. Your brain was blank, the only thing your mind did was move your body to get you somewhere safe. You had to leave and you had to leave now.

Miraculously, your fingers found your keys and inserted them into the ignition on the second try. A flutter of movement occurred to the left of you but your eyes didn’t let you look that way. Instead, they focused on the rearview mirror as you reversed out of the driveway. Your right hand found the gearshift and moved it to drive. Soon, you were tearing down the street as your ears refused to register the agonized howls that echoed behind as you kept staring forward. Adrenaline pumped through your system and your body shivered in response, the splash of hormones had created a blanket of fake calm over you. The emotions, the pain, the thoughts were swirling inside of you, ready to break free and drown you, but your brain wouldn’t allow it.

It wasn’t until you reached the end of your long driveway that you felt the original spike of adrenaline fade away. Your mother was in the front, tending to the flowers, and looked up when she saw your car fly into its usual spot. She stood up and her face twisted into a frown when you got out of your seat.

“Honey, your aura…it’s concerning.” The blanket was yanked away and the pain crashed over you.

You couldn’t say a word, all you could do was collapse in your mother's arms and cry, cry, cry.

It took you two days to calm down. The tears had stopped rolling and your shoulders no longer shook from trying to hold your sobs behind your teeth. Your mother hadn’t left your side, leaving your father to answer the door whenever someone knocked. The only person who did was Taehyung and Jimin. Jungkook never showed up.

Well, that was a lie.

Jungkook did show up every morning and night, without fail. But he never came to your doorstep. Instead, he was in the woods behind your house, patrolling, not daring to leave the protection of the forest. A part of you wondered if he was respecting your obvious need for space or if your mother had paid a witch to set up boundary lines that didn’t allow him to cross. Either way, you were grateful that you couldn’t see him. There was an incessant tugging in your heart to be near him but you staunchly ignored it, which would’ve been impossible if you saw his achingly beautiful face.

I don’t want her. I don’t need her. Having her there makes me physically ill. Those three sentences played in a constant loop in your head, like a horror movie you couldn’t escape from. You were the protagonist who couldn’t escape the maze, but the villain wasn’t kind enough to kill you off. No matter what you did, your brain wouldn’t stop repeating those three sentences. Your mother burned sage, she pressed crystals into your palms, she muttered ritual after ritual, but nothing worked.

You hated how affected you were. You had always told yourself that you would never be the girl who’d get so wrapped up in someone else they didn’t know who they were anymore. Independence was something you prided yourself on, but you seemed to be at a complete loss now. You couldn’t stop the waves of sadness and self-hatred at your depressed state. It was amazing how empty you felt yet so full of pain at the same time. Your mind and heart couldn’t seem to decide which hurt worse; your heart for having your soulmate so obviously reject you, or your brain for trying to make sense of the situation. When did this happen? How did this happen? How had you been so blind as to not see it?

“I don’t think we’re soulmates,” you rasped to your mom on the third morning. It had been the first words you had spoken to her since you had fell into her arms. She looked up from the bundle of herbs she was smoking.

“Why do you say that?”

You stared at your hands that had curled in on themselves. “I don’t make him happy. I-I never realized how uncomfortable I made him. I wish I had known. How did I miss it?”

Your mother tutted gently and gathered you in her arms. She smelled of lavender and wax. “This is good. I’m glad you’re letting yourself have this moment. Let’s sit in this and allow yourself to be embedded here.” But you didn’t want to have this moment. You didn’t want to have any moment and you’ve felt enough to last a lifetime. Instead, you rolled over, let sleep overtake you and tried to ignore the distant howling that rattled your window pane.

By nightfall of the fourth day, you were forced out of bed. Partly by choice, partly by force. Your parents had dipped out to run to the grocery store, despite your mother’s insistence that she could stay. You and your father managed to convince her to leave and you had gotten up to wave them goodbye. Sure, your heart was broken, but the least you could do was kiss them on the cheek before they left. You had turned around to shuffle into the kitchen to try and shovel something down your dry throat when a loud knock sounded at the front door. Hesitating, you carefully peeked through the kitchen window and saw Jimin on your front doorstep, dressed in all black.

Sighing, you stumbled over and pulled the door open. You figured you couldn’t avoid them for much longer. “Hey, Jimin.”

“Christ, you look like shit.”

You huffed out a laugh as Jimin stared at you in horror, not having the energy to be offended. You also knew, in a weird way, that this was Jimin’s way of caring for you. “Yeah. My mother’s covered all the mirrors in the house.”

Jimin nodded as he glanced at you from head to toe. “I want to ask if you’re okay but…” He gestured to your gaunt frame swaddled in a heavy sweatshirt and sweatpants. For the first time in two years, they were your own clothes, not Jungkook’s.

“I’m fine, Jimin,” you heaved a heavy sigh and leaned against the doorframe. “Do you want to come in? I think my mom boiled some tea not too long ago.”

Jimin shook his head. “Can’t. Jungkook would have a fit if I got that close to you right now. I’m already pushing my luck just by showing up.” He doesn’t care, you thought bitterly, and almost said it out loud but you caught yourself at the last second. Jimin wasn’t stupid, though. He knew what you were thinking. “Hey,” he murmured, eyes going soft, “are you ready to talk about it?”

“No.” You shook your head. A wave of sadness washed over you but the telltale prick of tears didn’t come.

Jimin understood. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he rocked back onto his heels. “Are you going to talk to him?”

Letting out a heavy breath, you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know I have to. I just…I just need time.”

“Take however long you need.”

It was another 48-hours before you finally snapped. While you had spent the majority of the two days that had passed to make yourself resemble a human being, you couldn’t focus. You couldn’t move on. Why?

Because Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone.

His presence was constant. He circled your house every hour of ever day, the large shadow of him in wolf form darkened the trees behind your house. The howling had stopped but the pacing hadn’t. You hoped he was at least sleeping, but then you got annoyed at yourself for caring. You didn’t know why he was out there, it made no sense. Jungkook’s words were so different from his actions it made your head spin.

But, you needed to move on with your life. You had to. The only way it was going to happen was if Jungkook did too. It hurt. God, did it hurt. Yet, as sad and utterly pathetic as it sounded, you were used to the pain at this point, had resigned yourself to it. A part of you worried you wouldn’t know what to do without it.

Shaking off that depressing thought, you tugged on your rain boots and stepped outside for the first time in a week. The air was heavy with the promise of rain, the clouds low and gray. You tugged the hood up on your sweater to prevent your hair from completely frizzing out before you walked to down the back deck steps.

The backyard of your parents house was expansive. The home you had grown up in sat on top of a sloping hill that your mother had turned into her personal greenhouse. You stepped past rows of raised garden beds and pruned plants until you reached the line where the neatly mowed grass met the twisted ferns of the forest floor. As you had suspected, the ground was scorched with the evidence of past rituals. While your mother hadn’t out right admitted, you had figured someone had come and created a boundary line. It was obviously specific to Jungkook since Jimin and Taehyung were still able to visit. While your mother’s methods were extreme, you understood. As difficult as it was to move on with your life with Jungkook sequestered to the forest, you couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like if he was within a few feet of you.

With a deep inhale, you sat down on the damp grass and waited. After a few minutes, you could hear the faint sounds of paws hitting the wet earth. The galloping got louder and louder until there was a momentary stretch of silence before it changed to footsteps.

When Jungkook emerged from the trees, you weren’t prepared. Although you knew you wouldn’t be, you still weren’t expecting it to hurt this bad. Your chest squeezed painfully at the first look of his broad form. Technically, it had been two weeks since you two had truly seen each other, the longest you’d ever gone. What hurt the most was how badly you longed for him. You wanted nothing more than to run straight into his arms, bury your face into his chest, and forget everything. Just forgive and give your heart what it wanted. But you remained firmly in place.

Jungkook looked as if he had seen a ghost. Which, to be fair, was probably true since you hadn’t seen the sun in seven days. His normally golden skin was pale and even from where you sat you could see the dark circles bruising under his eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping. You hated that you noticed. You hated that you cared. He was dressed in all black and his chest strained against the material of his sweater. His hands were balled into tight fists at his side and the sight reminded you of why you were here.

“Hi.” Probably wasn’t the best start but it was the best you could do. Jungkook didn’t respond so you soldiered on. “I-I know you don’t want to be here, so I’ll make this quick. I just…wanted to apologize. I had no idea I made you so uncomfortable. I’m not sure how long you’ve felt this way about me, not that it really matters, but I wish you had told me sooner. Maybe things would’ve been easier for you, who knows.” You released a heavy sigh and tried to shove down the stone in your throat as you forced the next words out of your mouth. “But, all of that doesn’t matter anymore. I think I understand what you need, now. I know you loved me at one point, but I’m obviously not what you need anymore. And…t-that’s okay - I swear it is. All I want is for you to be happy, Jungkook. And I think, in order for that to happen, I need to move on. We both need to move on-”

“Stop it,” Jungkook broke in with a harsh voice that cut your sentence in half. “Stop talking.”

It felt like he had slapped you in the face. A wave of humiliation washed over you and you visibly flinched. Staggering to your feet, you locked your gaze onto your boots in an attempt to hide the tears that dripped down your nose. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, not expecting it to change anything. You began to turn away but Jungkook stopped you in your tracks, again.

“Wait, no - stop. Stop. Please…don’t go,” he pleaded. When you turned around, his eyes were frantic. Jungkook’s hand was raised from his side as if he thought about reaching out to you but something stopped him. His words were at war with one another and you were caught in the middle, at a loss for what he was trying so desperately to convey to you.

“Jungkook, I’m so confused.”

“I know. I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry.” Jungkook tucked his head into his hands before dropping down into a squat. “This is all wrong. This is all so wrong.”

You knew you should walk away. You had said your piece, it was time to move on, just as you had said. Yet, you couldn’t. It was as if your heart was tethered to him and your body couldn’t handle the pain of walking away. “Listen-”

“I don’t know what to do.” He cut you off but the bubbles of anger that had risen from being interrupted popped once you saw how lost he looked. His tattooed fingers threaded through his hair, allowing you to see the pure anguish that twisted his features. “Whenever I feel like this, I come to you. Because you always know what to do. Any situation, no matter what, you can handle it. It’s something I’ve always admired about you.”

The way he spoke to you now, so reverently and so full of awe, made your head spin. Nothing made sense. It was such a blatant contrast to the brutality that he had spat out a week ago. As much as you wanted to believe what he said now, those stupid words could not get out of your head. It was a constant reminder that never shut up.

“I don’t know what to do either,” you admitted in a quiet voice.

“Tell me,” Jungkook begged, as if he couldn’t and refused to comprehend what you had just told him. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Whatever you want from me, I’ll give you.”

You were shaking your head before he could finish. “There’s nothing you can do, Jungkook. Nothing.”

“Don’t say that.” He stared at you, horrified. “Don’t say that to me. Please, there has to be something.”

“What could there be?” You cried. Tears streamed down your cheeks now. “You said it yourself, being near me makes you sick. Why would I stay? Why would you want me to? I refuse to make you uncomfortable anymore - so that’s that.”

“It isn’t,” Jungkook argued back. “It can’t be. I-I can’t lose you, I can’t. I need to make this right, please just let me. Please.”

But, you were tired. You were so fucking tired. You were exhausted of the emotional rollercoaster that you were on that you just wanted to crawl away and hide. All the fight seeped out of you as your shoulders slumped forward. Jungkook saw this and the blood drained from his face. You were giving up, he could see it, and it scared the shit out of him.

“Jungkook, I need to go, okay? I-I can’t do this.”

“No!” Jungkook shouted and shot up to his feet. The pure panic that choked his voice brought on a fresh set of tears that you struggled to hold back. “Just let me explain, okay? I swear to God, after you hear what I have to say, if you still want me to, I’ll let you go. I won’t fight you on it. But, please let me tell you the truth. Give me a chance to make this right. You deserve that.”

You hesitated for a moment. Deep down, you knew you should let him talk. Not because you necessarily thought he deserved to, but because he was right. You did deserve the truth, no matter how much it broke your heart. With a heavy sigh and a quick swipe of your cheeks, you nodded. Once Jungkook was sure you weren’t going to leave, he began pacing. Looking every bit like the wild animal you knew him to be but never got to see.

“Mating with a werewolf is…brutal. It’s intense, it’s painful and it isn’t pretty. It’s essentially a breeding session where I use you as a vessel to fulfill my innate biological needs. It’s not romantic, it’s not gentle. Even for she-wolves it can be too much. The thought of subjecting you to something like that - that type of pain…I couldn’t fathom it. I don’t think you understand just how precious you are to me. The image of you being battered and bruised because of me, something I did…it tormented me, day and night.” He paused for a moment, the pained look in his eyes made you shiver. You hated that he had gone through all of this turmoil on his own, and you especially hated how you never made more of an effort to try and relieve him of it.

“I couldn’t do it. That’s partially the reason I waited so long to tell you that you were my true mate. I knew ruts were something I would never expose you to even though it’s such a huge part of my life, a wolf’s life.” Jungkook looked you straight in the eye, the intensity of his dark gaze took your breath away. “I know the practices other wolves partake in when their own heats or ruts arrive. I know you know them too. But, I need you to understand something. The moment you allowed me to be yours and vice versa, I haven’t had anyone else since. I swear on my life, I’ve spent every single one of my ruts alone. I wouldn’t and I won’t do that to you.”

“Isn’t that painful, though?” Your voice cracked but neither one of you acknowledged it. While your knowledge on ruts were expansive, having done plenty of research since being with Jungkook, you had obviously never experienced one.

“It’s manageable. It’s way more painful for a she-wolf to go through her heat alone than it is for a male.” Jungkook clenched and unclenched his fists as he resumed his pacing. “The worst part is being away from you. I’ve been going through ruts since puberty, I can handle them. But not being able to be with you for a whole week…I hated it. Still do. I dread that three month mark. And as time went on, I became more and more miserable. Being apart from you was almost unbearable but the other option…I never even allowed myself to consider it.

“It came to the point where the pack was noticing. I wasn’t getting the proper pheromonal release from my ruts and it was beginning to affect those around me. Taehyung has been on my ass for months now to get over myself and take you with me during my next rut. Each time I’d give him some excuse, but it was getting harder and harder to justify what I was doing. At first, I was convinced it was because I was protecting you. But you’ve been so understanding and so patient with me and my life, those excuses were becoming useless. Eventually, I think it was because I was protecting myself. I was - am - so scared. I’m terrified that I could hurt you when I’m like that. That I wouldn’t be able to notice or worse, ignored, if something happened to you. Living with that type of fear became debilitating. So, I just kept my mouth shut and kept you away from that part of me.”

Jungkook shook his head and chuckled humorlessly. “Now I know that was the worst possible thing I could do. That I was just hurting you more. What you walked into last Sunday was a culmination of my frustrations that I was refusing to deal with. While it’s not a valid reason, I’m well aware of that, I need you to know that what you heard was not the truth. It couldn’t be further from it. Because the truth is that I’m hopelessly in love with you and the thought of being without you hurts worse than I ever thought was possible.”

It wasn’t the first nor would it be the last time that Jungkook left you speechless. It took you a full minute to process what he had said. Jungkook granted you the silence although he became increasingly more agitated as time passed. His boots scuffed the dead leaves that littered the ground and his pacing led him closer to the ashes that lay before your feet. Then, he’d suddenly stalk off with a growl as he was forced to keep away.

“I-” you cleared your throat around the lump that had found a home there. “I had no idea. This whole time…I thought it was because you didn’t want me.”

“God, no.” Jungkook swore heavily as his muscles bunched and coiled beneath his clothes. “The - the fact that…you - fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s not it, that’s not it at all. You’re my dream girl, you’re the love of my life, and I want you every second of every day.”

Maybe it’s because you were emotionally drained and had no mental strength left. Maybe, you needed to hear those words from Jungkook more than you realized. Whatever the reason was, it wasn’t worth trying to figure out an explanation as you sunk to the ground and burst into tears.

Jungkook lost it across from you. Broken whines stained the air as he carded through his hair anxiously. He kept trying to get to you, to try to soothe you. But the boundary was unfortunately doing its job and each attempt was met with failure. Curses were spat out until eventually, he got as close as the boundary would let him and fell to his knees. He began spewing whatever came to mind first, unsure of what to do. All he knew was that you were crying because of him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He thought hearing you cry from your bedroom window was torture, but nothing could compare to hearing you break down in front of him. Nothing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m sorry…please, I’m so sorry. I - don’t cry, darling. Please don’t. I’m so sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

It wasn’t tears of heartbreak that leaked from your eyes. Instead, it was tears of relief. While your heart had wholly accepted his words as the truth, the logical part of you reminded yourself that the two of you had way more talking to do. This was far from over, but the relief of knowing that he loved you and he was yours…it was indescribable.

You finally lifted your head up and were shocked to find Jungkook’s cheeks glistening with moisture. Your only thought was to comfort him as you scrambled forward to do just that. Instead of feeling his smooth skin against the palm of your hand, you were blocked by what felt like a wall although nothing stood in your way. Frowning, you realized with a start that the boundary worked both ways. Jungkook let out a frustrated growl as he glared at the ashes that was stopping both of you from getting what you wanted. It was silent for a few moments until an idea popped into your head.

“Wait here,” you announced before jumping up and taking off for the house. Ignoring Jungkook’s distressed cry, you ran inside. You yanked your car keys off from their designated hook and quickly typed out a text to your parents to let them know where you were going before spinning around and sprinting back outside. Jungkook was where you left him, although he stumbled to his feet when he saw you reappear.

“I’m going to your house,” you announced, breathless. “No witch is stupid enough to go that far into werewolf territory. If you want to talk to me there, then follow me.”

Jungkook stared at you for a heartbeat until the words you spoke clicked. “Y-yeah. Yes. Okay. I’ll be there.”

With a curt nod, you ran to your car. For the first time in a week, a faint sprout of hope bloomed in your chest.

It was the longest and shortest ten minutes of your life. The drive to Jungkook’s seemed to last a lifetime but also was over within a blink of an eye. The tears had stopped flowing by the time you pulled your car into his driveway, but you felt the telltale prick in your eyes when you saw him burst from the trees. Your heart ached as his long legs ate up the distance between you two as you wrestled with your seatbelt and threw the car into park. By the time you freed yourself, he was at the hood of your car.

The two of you stared at each other for a few breathless moments. You weren’t sure who moved first, but it didn’t matter as you crashed into each other’s arms. The moment his searing warmth enveloped you, you dissolved into another puddle of sobs. The feeling of his thick arms banded across your back, his torso molded to yours, and his hair tickling your ear, felt so right. Another wave of crippling relief washed over you and you practically melted against Jungkook. But he held you up, just like he always had.

He leaned against the front bumper while his hands were everywhere. Cradling your head into his neck, smoothing over your hips, or running circles over your shoulders. He was crying, you could feel the tears dampening your hair. But you were soaking his shirt so no one was in any position to complain.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t,” Jungkook hissed fiercely as he squeezed you tighter. “Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault, not in the slightest.”

“Kook,” you sighed and pulled your head back to get a good look at him. “It takes two to tango.”

“Not this time,” he argued. “You’ve put up with so much. You’re everything I could’ve asked for and more. It was my own fears that got in the way and created this mess. And I’m so sorry for that, darling. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You shushed him gently, running your thumbs over his cheeks to swipe at the dried tears. “I know you’re sorry. I believe you.”

Jungkook dipped his head further into your touch with a pleased rumble vibrating through his chest. He kissed your palm gently, sniffing at your wrist. It made you giggle. “Missed that,” Jungkook mumbled as he stared at you with stars in his eyes. “Missed you. Missed you so much.”

A fresh wave of tears cascaded down your cheeks. You were positive that you looked like a mess, hair in a knotted bun, face red and puffy and you kept sniffling every two seconds. But Jungkook looked at you as if you held the world in your hands. “Missed you too,” you murmured in return. “Please, next time, just talk to me. I may not have the answers you’re looking for all the time, but I’ll always be here to listen.”

“I know,” Jungkook whispered. “There won’t be a next time, promise. If I happen to be stupid enough to put us in this position again, I give you full permission to punch me in the face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You lifted yourself onto your toes to brush your lips against his, dropping back down to your feet when his head chased after yours. “Or maybe I just won’t kiss you for a week.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened comically and he actually looked terrified. “I’d rather you just punched me in the face.” You tilted your head back and laughed. Jungkook tugged you closer and nosed your throat before peppering gentle kisses along the exposed skin. Sighing happily, you tilted your head to allow him better access and rested your cheek on his shoulder.

“I love you,” you said quietly. Jungkook froze for a split second before he sank against you. Squeaking in shock, you scrambled to brace yourself against the sudden weight pressing you towards the house.

“Say it again,” Jungkook pleaded. You couldn’t deny him. Dusting feather light kisses to the shell of his ear, you repeated those three words again, and again, and again. Each time you did, Jungkook held you a little tighter and cried a little harder.

Eventually, you’re murmured promises became softer and softer until the two of you just enjoyed each others presence. “C’mon,” you finally whispered as you started to lift yourself off of him. Jungkook growled and refused to let you move an inch farther. “Kook, come on. Let’s go inside. Your ass must be numb by now.”

“Don’t care,” he grumbled but he at least shuffled forward a bit more so that your combined weight wasn’t squashing his ass against your car.

“You might say that now, but you won’t be saying that later.”

Jungkook grunted at your logic but he at least raised his head and looked at you with the sweetest eyes. “Please tell me you’re staying.”

Giggling, you asked, “do you want me to?”

“Obviously,” he scoffed. “I want you here forever.” Jungkook tilted his head thoughtfully. “Actually, you should just move in with me.”

Christ, this boy was going to give you whiplash. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Jungkook, we just made up. The whole reason we were in this mess is because of poor communication. Don’t you think we should work on that first before anything else?”

“But…we could work on communication all the time if we’re together 24/7.” Despite his pout, you knew he wasn’t totally serious. Although you were sure it was going to come up again.

“Alright, you maniac,” you said fondly. “Take me to bed.” Jungkook’s chest rumbled happily as he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his trim waist.

It wasn’t a long walk to his bedroom, but the exhaustion of the past week caught up to you and the gentle rocking of his steps lulled you into a serene state. Not quite asleep, but not quite awake either. You were aware when Jungkook placed you on his bed, practically engulfed in his scent. The last thing you remember before falling asleep was the words Jungkook pressed into your hair has he slid in behind you.

“Love you forever, my darling girl.”

©jcwritings Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

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l-r-christian · 3 years ago

Text

Title: 'Tied to one' part four

Summary: The siblings had learned that a witch had rewrote their soul strings mean while Mikael had went after Freya and Y/N as Hayley's misdeeds are undone. Would the siblings forgive her? Or lose Elijah forever?

Warnings: Angst like a lot of it, Angry Mikaelsons. Loss of a unborn child, Violence, Y/N being a badass

A/N: I noted that I kinda made this part every long too. So it makes me wonder do guys like it when I do long parts when doing series? Let me know ☺

Elijah and Klaus kept Hayley close as they walked though the Ninth ward and they couldn't help but notice it was quite. Then they heard screaming and smelled burning of wood and they went to see what was happening with the witches as they hadn't done a trial in so long.

"They are doing a witch trial." Rebekah whispered as they watched witches dragging out another witch that crying and Hayley knew who the witch as she was the one that did the spell that rewrote the soul string.

"Please, don't do this! Please, I beg of the Ancestors! I don't want to die!" The witch shouted as they tied the sobbing witch to a stake. And Elijah held Hayley back from rushing forward to try and save the witch.

"Hayley, we not stop this. Davina is Regent and we agreed to not enter witches affairs."

"Regent, her rights?"

"Annilse for rewriting soul strings and going against the Ancestors. Your punishment is death as you have brought danger to all Nine covens. Your last words?" Davina asked holding up a torch of fire as the witch swallowed her sobs and decided if she was going down she was taking Hayley with her.

"Yes, my Regent. Hayley Marshall, Queen and Alpha of Crescent wolf pack had me do the spell for her own personal gain! The Original soulmate is a witch!" The witch cried out shocking the witches and they whispered among themselves as Elijah let Hayley go. A heartbreak settled over the siblings as Hayley looked at them teary eyed the sound of a burning witch echoed out and the thought of this witch dying because of Hayley hit the siblings with guilt at slowly crawled up their backs.

"She is lying."

"Hayley, we have lived long enough to know that one on their death bed has no reason to lie. Once we find our mother you will explain yourself." Elijah said rather coldly walking pass the female hybrid as the others glared at her following Elijah.

At the Abattoir Freya was helping Y/N with spell to find out what was wrong with her soul strings as both were getting along. Freya found the young witch adorable believe she was a good fit for Finn as they bonded over her possible niece or nephew that Y/N carried.

"It seems my soul string to Finn is pure but it is also saying the other four."

"Impossible, Hayley is their soulmate." Freya said frowning looking over Y/N's shoulder looking at the paper seeing the names of her siblings written our elegantly.

"I knew something was wrong but this magic is to much for me to reverse." Y/N said as Freya smiled taking her hand.

"Don't worry I'll fix it for you, dear Y/N."

"NIKLAUS! Come out a face, you mistake of a man!" Y/N and Freya heard Mikael yell as the witches looked at one another before headed out to the catwalk seeing the vampire standing there. Mikael looked up seeing the witches smirking at them which made Y/N shiver at his dark look.

"Ah my traitorous daughter and the tainted soulmate. Niklaus left you both unprotected."

"I am not a traitor for protecting my siblings from you father. I don't need Nik to protect us." Freya said glaring at her father as Y/N swallowed watching Freya use her magic against Mikael. It was a bloody fight with Freya drawing the most blood from Mikael as Y/N watched Freya fall feeling drained.

"Y/N run!" Freya shouted as the witch didn't need to be told twice and took off running with Mikael close behind. Y/N yelped feeling Mikael grab her by the neck and the witch stabbed his side fighting back as much as she could.

"So the abomination is having another child? How much would it kill him to lose you both?" Mikael said having pinned Y/N to the floor as her heart raced unable to speak as the vampire had his hand around her thoat. Panic and fear filled Y/N feeling Mikael's hand on her abdomen making her struggle to get free when pain shot though her as she let out a pain fill scream and Freya trying to make her way to them both.

"Shame to lose something so lovely."

"Shame....you'll....be enslaved.....monster." Y/N coughed up blood and before Mikael could kill her. The witch smashed a small bottle against the vampire's head and said a quick spell under her breath as Mikael fell over unconscious then rolled over whimpering curling into herself trying to stop the bleeding.

"I can't believe you!" Rebekah growled angrily as they entered the Abattoir unable to find Esther and Hayley was about to apologize again but Elijah stopped her seeing Freya up on the catwalk hurt. The scent of blood hit their noses as Elijah bit into his wrist to heal Freya.

"Y/N......father.....witch room." Freya rasped out before letting Elijah heal her while both Finn and Klaus rushed to the room seeing the two. Mikael was still unconscious as Y/N was curled in a ball crying and Finn went went to his soulmate while Klaus went to Mikael.

"Darling, shhhhh I'm here here now."

"I'm sorry.....I tried." Y/N whimpered burying her face in Finn's neck as both him and Klaus couldn't hear the second heartbeat and realized what she meant.

"Get her clean up brother. I'll take care of this."

A moments later with everyone cleaned up and Freya explained what happened and what she heard. Y/N had her abdomen wrapped with bandage and dressed in one of Finn's shirts as she walked into the den and the rest of Mikaelson was taken back seeing her with a fire in her gorgeous eyes when she walked in.

Mikael stood growling angry at the witch that got of him and surprised to see his second oldest following behind her then moved to attacked the witch to try to use her to get out before anyone could stop him.

"Kneel!" Y/N commanded glaring at the vampire as right away Mikael fell onto one knee shocking the others. Y/N stood in front of Mikael with fiery eyes as to the siblings it was the look of a Queen and to Klaus this was the woman he could see hisself waging a war for.....his true Queen.

"What have you done, witch?"

"My grandmother's old command spell. It only works on vampires and as long as I have this mark," Y/N raised her hand showing what looked like a tattoo of a chain attached to a moon as the same mark was on Mikael's hand, "you cannot hurt me and follow every order I give."

"My my spoken like a true Queen there, love." Klaus says smirking walking behind her placing his hands on her shoulders leaning close to her ear looking at Mikael with a glint in his blue eyes. Klaus was enjoying this a little too much as the others stood by watching.

"Now what does the Queen wish to do?"

"Tell him the truth about the baby." Y/N's words made Klaus smirk darkly looking at Mikael before letting Finn help her sit down and now Mikael was confused as Finn fuzzed over the small witch.

"Well dear father, the baby belonged to Finn here. As it appears that real soulmates are able to have children with vampires." Klaus said still smirking as Mikael look at an angry Finn with a apologetic look on his face as Elijah stepped behind their father snapping his neck letting the body fall.

"He'll come in handy to find mother. Now Hayley what poor dear Annilse said before her death." Klaus said looking at the female hybrid as Freya and Y/N looked confused.

"What is going on?"

"Hayley here had a witch rewrite our soul strings because she wanted Elijah." Kol said as the witches looked at Hayley who looked away ashamed and Y/N stood up teary eyed.

"You took everything from me just so you could have something that wasn't yours?"

"I loved Elijah away before you did! I deserved him no......" Hayley was cut off by Y/N slapping her shocking everyone. Hot tears fell freely down Y/N's face as she glared at Hayley who was holding her cheek. The soul strings that connected the witch to the siblings sparked with color was stronger this time but died out.

"I lost my baby! Finn lost a chance to be a father all because of you! You took everything away from them all because you weren't happy! And I hope you fucking burn." Y/N said leaving the den with Finn following after to comfort her.

"You got an innocent witch killed and my brother lost his child because you loved Elijah? How dare you, Hayley." Freya said walking out to check on Y/N leaving the female hybrid with the other four Mikaelsons. Elijah couldn't look at Hayley as his heart ached and blamed hisself for it all even though it really wasn't his fault and Rebekah covered her mouth as her own tears wetting her cheeks as Kol sat next to her comforting her.

"I'm sorry, if I know this would hap...."

"You wouldn't have done it? If you truly loved Elijah, you would have let him happy like he had done when you married Jackson." Klaus said watching Elijah leave then followed after because he knew guilt was eating away at his brother. Both Rebekah and Kol left also leaving Hayley alone as Mikael wike having heard everything.

"I may be a monster but I wouldn't have never hurt any of my children the way you have hurt Elijah."

Elijah stood in the doorway seeing Y/N laying in bed and swallowing his fear the Original walked inside and sat on the edge of the bed his back to her. Elijah was unable to look at her as his guilt ate away at him. The vampire jumped feeling the witch grab his hand and looked seeing that she laced their fingers together.

"Please don't blame yourself."

"I'm sorry.... I can't help it. I keep wondering if I had just kept my distance from her....to wait for you. Maybe you wouldn't be hurting." Elijah said voice cracking from unshed tears as Y/N rolled onto her back shifting to hold Elijah feeling tears hit her shoulder making her heart break hearing Elijah cry silently into her neck.

"Shhh Eli, I don't blame you." Y/N whispered rubbing his back seeing Finn standing in the doorway and watched him walk in. Finn placed a hand on his brother's back as he sat on the bed while Finn was taken back to when they were children how Elijah looked up to his big brother being comforted by the older Mikaelson when Mikael got to rough with the boy. Both Y/N and Finn calmed Elijah easing his blame away while Freya sat with Davina to undo the spell Hayley had done.

"I can't believe Hayley would do such a thing." Rebekah said huddled in Kol's arms as he was comforting his baby sister still angry that Hayley would do such a thing more so the price of the spell cost an innocent witch's life and Finn's unborn child all because the woman loved Elijah.

"The guilt Elijah will be carrying will crush him." Kol said softly feeling the bed dip with Klaus's weight as their older brother lay a comforting arm over the both.

"Both Finn and Y/N are easing his guilt away."

Morning sunlight shined into the bedroom waking Elijah feeling a body on him making him freeze then relaxed catching Y/N's scent as realized that Hayley wasn't in the bed. Y/N woke yawned and Finn woke also leaning over kissing the witch's head then ruffled Elijah's hair making the noble vampire smile at the familiarly.

"Morning boys." Y/N muttered sitting up with Elijah's help and she frowned feeling the knots in her hair realizing she hadn't wrapped her hair.

"Shower darling, Elijah will help you with your hair." Finn says helping her out of help bed as the sound of everyone moving around reached them. Elijah felt a twinge of familiarly as he did Y/N's hiar helping her put it up into two buns then Elijah helped her get dressed seeing her flinching due to her wound.

"Elijah." Hayley croaked out as the vampire paused seeing the hybrid in Y/N's doorway, Hayley looked a bit like a mess her eyes red and puffy from crying. Elijah looked away from Hayley, his heart squeezing in pain but felt Y/N rub his hand with her thumb.

"I'm going to see Freya and Davina." Y/N said softly leaving the room glaring at Hayley as she passed the hybrid. Hayley moved towards Elijah only for the Original to step back from her and pain flashed in Hayley's eyes looking up at Elijah.

"Elijah....I'm sorry....I didn't....."

"You didn't think this would happen? Hayley, you know more than anyone that all magic comes with a price " Elijah tells Hayley looking at her and Hayley saw the heart break on Elijah's face.

"I....just didn't think this was the price....Elijah, I just wanted you back."

"I'm sorry Hayley....I can't." Elijah says walking pass her not even looking at the woman as fresh tears fell down her face.

"So how do we undo the spell? Also why didn't affect Finn's soul string with Y/N?" Kol asked as everyone was in the room while the three witches stood by a bowl.

"Finn was dead when you met her so the spell couldn't undo their soul string as for undoing the spell. We need your blood then Y/N here to say the spell to unwritten it." Davina explained as everyone did as told then watched the ash gray strings burst with color. The siblings looked at Y/N as everything came back to them.

Rebekah was the first to move hugging Y/N who hugged back as Kol came up behind her hugging them both. Kol buried his face in her neck taking in the witch's scent. Once everyone settled down, they focus on looking for Esther. Mikael had his arms crossed watching his children working out what to do more so how Klaus wanted to make sure that the girls wouldn't get hurt.

"Can I help?" Hayley asked getting the sibling's attention before Klaus allowed her to join as Elijah was cold to her while talking about how to stop Esther. Hayley watched from outside of the gate as the siblings made sure that Y/N and Freya was going to be safe.

"I will be with them. I'll watch over them." Mikael said as the siblings looked at him then left with Hayley. In the den Y/N was writing out a spell in her grimoire as Mikael stood by as Freya stopped watching him.

"I wanted to apologize even though there is no way to undo what I have don. But I was told by Esther that you were the bast....Niklaus's soulmate but I am slowly learning that my anger is driving my children away." Mikael tells Y/N as she looked up at the older vampire seeing he was sincere.

"Thank you, Mikael." Y/N said softly as the vampire sat next to her and Freya smiled walking in with tea and the three enjoyed the quiet. There was a crash and Y/N didn't have to use her command seal as Mikael was quick to protect the witches. It was undead hybrids that Klaus had killed back in Mystic Falls as Y/N and Freya set up spells to help Mikael. When the siblings came home to see Mikael dragging dead bodies as Y/N and Freya was burning the bodies.

"What happen?!"

"Our mother sent your dead hybrids to kill us well more like father."

"You survived Mikael." Esther said glaring at her husband as Mikael glared back as the siblings saw how their father hid Y/N behind him.

"And you almost killed my children's soulmate."

"Since when did you care for the little wench?" Esther said glaring at Y/N believing the little witch stole Finn from her. Mikael growled ready to kill the Original witch when she suddenly fell and Klaus stood smirking.

"Enough of that. Shall we get mother's coffin Elijah?"

"We shall Niklaus." Elijah said smirking seeing the dagger in Esther's back. After placing Esther in a coffin and Freya placed many spells on it so it could never open they placed the coffin behind a brick wall and sealed it up.

"Shall we have a ball? I believe we deserve to celebrate." Klaus said smirking as his siblings chuckled agreeing with him before setting in the den feeling oddly comfortable around Mikael as they planned a ball.

#L.R writes #mikaelson x reader #mikaelson family x reader #Finn mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson imagine #rebekah mikaelson imagine

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the-passenger-if · 3 years ago

Note

one of my favorite angst tropes is someone breaking up with their partner in order to keep them safe! how would the ros handle this if newman did this to them? (also, would any of the ro’s break up with newman to keep them safe?)

combining it with

How would the ROs react to Newman who just texts them out of nowhere and the message just say "I love you always bye sorry" as if Newman was in a hurry and no matter how hard they try to contact them, no one picks up.

also

some angST!! How would the ROs react to Newman breaking up with them after being together for a looooong time?

and

ROs reaction to Newman wanting to break up with them after a while of being together?

Jonny and Horizon would break up with Newman to keep them safe. Fiama knows she can keep both of them safe, and Roach will do their best but if they have to die then they will die together xD

Combining Newman just up and disappears one day with Newman breaks up with RO after being together for a long time.

Long angsty scenarios under the cut.

“Mommy… kisses me… on the… cheek. Cheek. Cheek, Bruno. Listen, cheeeek. That’s chek.”

Bruno mutters the word ‘cheek’ under his breath a few times before adding another ‘e’ just on top of the first one.

“No,” Fiama tells him. “Erase the word and rewrite it. Well this time.”

Her son scowls but he does as he’s told. His round eyes slip away from the exercise book to the front door and stay there.

“Bruno,” she calls him. “Bruno.” He looks at her, and she knows. She just knows what he’s thinking about. Who he’s thinking about. “Cheek.” She points at the book.

He writes down the word very slowly and forcefully on the page. She still can read the wrong word under it, but she decides to let it go.

“The chick eats corn,” Fiama continues, “The… chick… Chick, Bruno.”

He bites his lower lip, staring at her.

“Remember the chicks? Grandpa took you to see them…”

Bruno mutters ‘chick’ under his breath a couple of times, then his eyes go to the front door again.

“Bruno,” and she doesn’t want to lose her patience like this, but she’s tired and she wants to… she doesn’t know what she wants to do yet, but doing homework in the living room with a very distracted Bruno isn’t it.

Her boy scowls at her, pencil shaking in a tiny angry fist. He opens his mouth to retort when someone knocks on the door. His eyes widen, the scowl vanishes. He jumps off the chair, homework and pencil and Fiama completely forgotten.

“Bruno!” she calls out, but he’s already dashing to the door and yanking it open.

“Oh! Hi there, rabbit,” Fiama’s mother says.

“No!” Bruno replies trying to close the door again.

That’s when Fiama stands up and grabs him by the arm. “Don’t you shut the door in your grandma’s face!”

“Don’t you grab him like that!” her mother yells at her, and she lets go of Bruno as if he was a hot iron.

“Why are you here?” Bruno screams at Fiama’s mother. “I wanted it to be them!”

“Bruno!” Fiama scolds.

“No!” her boy yells at her. “This is your fault! You did this!” Then he’s running off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Fiama isn’t the type to care about metaphors, but right now she completely understands what people mean when they say 'it felt like a bucket of cold water'.

The one that breaks the silence is her mother. “Well, didn’t I tell you this would happen?”

“Not now, mom.” Fiama grits out.

“Let us hope it doesn’t affect Bruno too much…”

“I said not now.” The glare she sends her mother’s way is enough for the woman to shake her head and turn away.

Fiama closes the door very carefully, and then rests her back against it, scowl set on the table where Bruno’s homework was left unfinished. A thought like a flash; the table toppling over, books and pencils, and the ceramic fruit basket flying in the air. It passes quickly. Fiama is taking slow deep breaths. She still remembers what happened the last time she let her emotions get the best of her. That familiar wave of shame and guilt washes over her as she remembers Bruno’s stunned silence when he found her sobbing in her room, sat in the midst of broken pieces of whatever she had lying about in there.

A single tear rolls down her cheek, one Fiama swiftly washes away. She promises herself this is the last she’ll ever waste on them.

---

There's one lonely cloud floating in the blue sky and Jonny's eyes have been following its snail-like march for the last ten minutes or so. His neck is starting to feel stiff but he doesn't shift his position; watching the lazy parade happening outside of his window has kept his mind in silence. Sweet, sweet silence.

It isn’t surprising that it doesn’t last. Somebody is knocking on his bedroom door and Jonny really doesn't have the energy for this. He closes his eyes shut, focuses on the inverted shadow cloud burned in his tired retina. The door clicks open and he keeps still on his bed, chest barely moving. It's childish, he knows this, but it's the only thing that seems to keep Joaquin and Lucia from asking how he's doing or commenting about his love life, or even worse, trying to give him advice.

The visitor lingers there where they stand for another moment, before closing the door again. Jonny thinks he’s been left alone to go back to what apparently has become his favorite hobby as of late, when he hears approaching footsteps.

“I know you’re awake.”

“Don’t tell me they called you,” he says in a drawl, opening his eyes and fixing them on the man sitting on the bed across from his. Quino has the same green eyes, straight nose, and wavy brown hair Jonny has, however, his twin chooses to wear it shorter and well out of his face. He is, after all, the good-looking one.

“They didn’t,” Quino assures him with a conciliatory smile. Jonny’s skepticism must be written all over his face because his brother crosses his heart and shrugs.

“Why are you here?” Jonny knows why, but he also knows Quino too well and his twin has never been the type to start awkward conversations unless Jonny opens that door for him first.

“Do I need a reason? Can’t I—?”

“They broke up with me,” Jonny cuts him off, “I’m feeling like shit, I just want to sleep until I forget I ever met them, but every time people ask about it I think about them, and every time they tell me ‘it will pass’, and that I’ll ‘find someone new’ I just want to jump in front of a car.” Quino doesn’t say anything, he just nods while picking at his nails. Jonny rolls on his back, stares at the ceiling. “I know I’m way too old to be acting like this, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“You aren’t too old to feel like shit, Jonny. You loved them, and they left you. It’s completely understandable.”

He presses his lips together. He did love them. He does love them still. Stupid, so stupid.

“If you want to cry—“

“Screw off.”

“Not in front of me, heaven forbid,” Quino says with mock horror, “but you should cry sometimes. Crying is good for you, you know?”

Maybe it is, Jonny guesses, but he might have cried himself dry the night Newman broke up with him over the phone. Over the fucking phone, of fucking course. He rubs at his dry eyes. He doesn’t want to think about that. “Yeah,” he mutters.

The silence stretches until Quino clears his throat. “So, do you want to know why I’m here or not?”

Jonny turns his head and then frowns at the tickets in his brother’s hand. He blinks twice, recognizing the iconic font printed on them at once. He sits up an instant later. “You’re shitting me.”

“No, I’m inviting you to see Metallica in Columbia.”

“Their last two albums suck,” Jonny says, yet he still takes the ticket from Quino’s hand.

“What doesn’t?” his twin asks with a laugh, and this time Jonny can feel himself smile.

---

One of the humans is awake. Shit. Roach thought they had at least another hour or two, now they’ll have to deal with them and their overfamiliarity and their hands and their faces.

The stub between their lips trembles and they realize it has gone out. They take it, frown at it and then flick it off. It flies in an arc, landing among its dozen of dead brothers. Roach knows at least ten of those are theirs—not that the parking lot of this dingy motel could look any worse by having more dead cigs lying about.

They look for their smokes in the denim jacket they are wearing—a gift from a trucker with a tendency to comment on people’s appearances and leave his jacket behind when going to the restroom—and almost drop the entire pack when the door at their left opens.

“Those things will kill you,” says the woman coming out of their shared motel room.

“Life is killing me,” Roach replies without missing a beat, but they don’t smile; she won’t see their face anyway, not when the sun has yet to come out, and the only lightbulb over their head suddenly burned out.

“Do you have another one?”

She comes to sit next to them on the bench and Roach doesn’t need light to see the deep crow's feet at the corner of her eyes and the dark circles under them. Their conquests always look immensely better under synthetic lighting, once outside, once they’ve used one another, it’s like the spell breaks.

Roach holds two cigs between their lips and lights them with practiced ease. They offer one to their broken Juliette. It’s the least they can do; they do remember biting her hard at some point in the middle of their sexcapade… or maybe they bit one of the others, they aren’t sure anymore.

She accepts it with a thanks and takes a long drag. She sighs out the smoke, peers at Roach as if she could somehow pierce through the shadows and take a good look at them. “You are young, darling,” she croaks out. “Way too young to be doing this shit.”

“Smoking?” Roach asks innocently. Words read out from a script, tone sweet, face immobile. The face of a ghost really, one that haunts and judges them.

The woman shakes her head and then points with her thumb at the room behind them. “I bet you aren’t even thirty yet.” She tilts her head at them, eyes narrowing and still trying to see. “Whatever happened to you… you can opt out. It isn’t easy, but you can move on, you can leave your old self behind. It’s never too late…” A coughing fit interrupts her fortune cookie monologue, and Roach is super ready to skedaddle now.

They stand up, rub their hands together. “Speaking of,” they exclaim with fake enthusiasm, “I should hit the road now. It was a pleasure, really,” they add just as if they were wrapping a 5-cents bow around used pair of socks. Here, happy birthday.

Roach jogs off before she can add anything else.

“Hag,” they mutter around their cigarette. They stop as they catch a glimpse of their reflection in the window of a stripped car. The face scowling at them is silently judging them for stealing it and then using it to lure in humans. “It’s poetic, ok?” Roach explains with a tense grin. “You fucked me over so this is my way to return the favor, pet.” The reflection doesn’t reply, but Roach doesn’t care. They don’t care. They never cared, actually. Who said they ever did?

---

Slow, deep breaths. Inhale, one… two… three… four. Exhale, one… two… three… four… five… six…

Horizon opens their eyes. They are crouched in front of the ceremonial pitcher. Looking down at their reflection in the water makes something like a thumb-size metal ball roll in the back of their skull. They wince in pain and lose whatever little balance they had before. Horizon doesn’t yelp when they fall back on their ass; the sudden waves of nausea coming up like lava inside a volcano could turn a bad situation into a nightmarish one at the flip of a hat.

“Ah,” they whine in a whisper, “if there truly is anything out there, up there, or around, please make it stop.” They run a hand down their face, suppress a fiery belch.

They blindly look for the pitcher and submerge their other hand in the cold water. Dominus Dove and Domina Basil would blanch in horror and anger, but right now, this is the best Horizon has felt since Velour dragged them out of bed, wrapped their robes around them, and pushed them into their office.

Running wet, cold fingers through their messy hair is the best feeling in the world, so they continue this little ritual for a while… and another while… and a little longer…

The door opens just a crack and Horizon’s gaze jumps to Velour’s so fast that the metal ball comes back with a vengeance. An arrow piercing their brain back to front.

“Ahh!”

“This isn’t happening,” Velour hisses as they slink into the room and close the door behind them. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

“This isn’t happening,” Horizon mutters trying to smile through the pain. They open their eyes to find a very frowny, very serious Velour staring down at them. The smile slips off their face like a slug going down the drain. “I’m so sorry, Velour.”

“As you should,” they reply coldly, and Horizon wants to cry because there’s so much more to their tone than just scorn; they are truly disappointed and they have all the right to be.

“I’m a mess,” the words sound strained to Horizon’s ears, and they can feel new tears threatening to spill down their face again.

Velour’s jaw tightens before they crouch down shaking their head. “You are drunk,” they whisper in a mellow way. “And we can’t let anyone know that.”

“No, we can’t.”

“Alright, I’ll tell them you are indisposed. Wait here, and please, stop playing with the sacred water, Domini.”

Horizon can feel themself blushing in embarrassment, but they nod nonetheless and almost don’t wince when the metal ball ricochets around their skull.

Velour steps out of the room, their voice booming in the cabin, “Domini Horizon has fallen ill with a fever. Today’s prayers will be under my supervision.”

“Are they ok?” somebody asks.

“Yes, but they are very tired and would appreciate being left alone in their cabin. Any concerns or questions you have can be brought to me.”

Efficiently, they march into the office again. “Lean on me, Domini,” they instruct and Horizon does as they say. A few moments later, The Domini is back on their feet and being herded out of the office and through the cabin. They keep their head down, letting their hair cover their face.

“Poor Domini,” another person loud-whispers, “they are drenched in sweat.”

Next to them, Velour tenses up, but they don’t let their discomfort show in any other way.

Once in Horizon’s cabin, their assistant sits them on the bed and fetches them a glass of water.

“They aren’t worth any of this, Domini,” Velour says, and Horizon keeps still, lips barely touching the water. They look up at their assistant but say nothing. “That’s all I wanted to say, and that’s all I’ll say on the subject.”

Horizon puts down the glass on their lap, both hands holding it still. They lower their gaze before softly replying, “Noted.”

Velour makes to leave. They open the door before saying over their shoulder, “And stop drinking. If I come back to find you drunk again, I swear I’m leaving. For real this time.”

Horizon nods slowly, and doesn’t look up until Velour closes the door behind them. Once they are out, the Domini puts the glass down, next to the bed, carefully lies down, and lets the ugly sobs come gushing out of them like muddy water from a broken levee.

#ask #tp fiama #tp jonny #tp roach #tp horizon #is this dramatic enough #hope it isn't too messy n_n'

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mc-lukanette · 3 years ago

Note

Now that Wishmaker is out, how would you rewrite that chaos? The Lukanette need is strong.

"Did anyone else see me?" Marinette asked, her hands shaking as she put on the mask she'd made with her newly-given knitting powers. They were sitting down in a shadowed alley, free from anyone's curious eyes.

"No," Viperion replied, his voice breathless from the revelations he was having rather than the fly to their hiding spot. "Just...just me." He glanced down at his wrist, noting the unticked snake bangle. "...I'm sorry."

"Huh?" Marinette's gaze darted over to him, then to his miraculous. A flicker of understanding passed over her expression as she whispered a small, "Oh."

Guilt tore up his stomach, even knowing deep down that it wasn't his fault - the akuma had surprised them, giving no time for him to use his power - but he'd been brought in to use Second Chance in the first place, and yet...

Marinette's hand fell upon his wrist, making him look up. She smiled at him, her eyes reassuring.

"It's okay," she said, though her voice wavered. "It was only you who saw my face, and even if you'd used Second Chance, you'd still know anyway."

He could tell that she was still processing, but let the subject go for now and smiled back. There were more important matters to attend to.

They must've been on the same wavelength too, as Marinette pulled away and sighed, thinking aloud, "I have to figure a way to be Ladybug again. The akuma could just be destroyed, but I need Miraculous Ladybug to turn everyone back to normal."

Viperion nodded, briefly giving her a once-over. Her power and wings were useful, but unfortunately didn't help them with the current situation.

It was also distractingly cute, and he couldn't fight that way.

"Wishmaker said that he wanted people to live out their childhood dream," he murmured in thought.

Marinette brought a hand to her face, pinching her cheek in contemplation. "Maybe...maybe if I live it out then, I'll change back?" She considered it a moment longer, then groaned and stood up, starting to pace around the small area they were in. "But we don't have that kind of time! Yeah, my earrings aren't here so Shadow Moth can't make a wish, and I could definitely make enough of a living with my new knitting powers, but that would take years, and—"

Suddenly, she stopped and looked over at him, catching Viperion briefly off-guard since he hadn't said anything. Her eyes scanned him up and down, mental gears turning in her head even if he couldn't tell what she was thinking.

"...That's it!" she gasped, hurrying over to him. She knelt down, clasping his hand in both of hers as she rambled, "Maybe I just need to live out my dream to the fullest!"

He blinked in confusion, unsure of where she was going with this.

"Part of my dream was to eventually make a wedding dress and tuxedo for me and my future husband!" she exclaimed. "If I do that, I might turn back into Ladybug!"

"Ah—" He shut his mouth before anything else could come out. He couldn't deny that it was a solid plan, but he wanted to tread carefully given his feelings, not wanting to make her feel awkward. "That's a great idea." He tried to grin reassuringly, though it came off a little crooked. "Should I go find Adrien?"

"What?" She shook her head. "No, it has to be you!"

He gaped, his heart doing confused flips in his chest. "Why?"

"The guy I always dreamed of marrying when I was little," she began, eyes practically sparkling, "he was exactly like you!"

— — — — —

Marinette hadn't exactly caught onto what she'd said until it already left her mouth, but the way Viperion's face turned red had definitely given it away. Things had gone quiet after the fact, with him sitting a couple meters away while she knitted away at the tuxedo; the tuxedo for him.

She found herself blushing faintly at the thought and immediately forced it down, reminding herself that she didn't love Luka, but Adrien. They were made for each other, like everyone said, and she—

She closed her eyes and took in a steady breath, knowing that she was getting off track. Things were complicated enough with all her thoughts and fears about the future, especially now that Viperion knew her identity.

Though, strangely enough, she didn't feel as nervous about it as she thought she would've.

Her gaze darted over to Viperion, who was keeping lookout and patiently waiting for her to finish with her knitting. He thankfully didn't seem closed off from her at all, and it just served as a reminder as to how mature he was.

Without thinking, she found herself speaking up. "M...my parents..."

He looked over at her, his senses still apparently tuned for her despite his keeping watch. She averted her gaze to the knitting needles working their literal magic into the tuxedo.

"We saw a lot of movies where the girl gets the prince in the end, so they made sure to teach me that love wasn't about money or power or fame or anything like that." She bit her bottom lip, Adrien briefly flashing to mind. "So, I imagined me as the knitting fairy, and I'd make clothes for the whole world until I found him." She peeked up at him. "Someone who wouldn't laugh when I fell on my face. Someone who'd be there for me and think of me first. Someone who wouldn't scold me for everything I did or make me feel bad for it. Someone who'd see more than just clumsy, nervous Marinette."

As much as it hurt to admit, the description didn't fit Adrien. Unless they found each other by coincidence - something that actually happened today, oddly enough - he didn't go out of his way to spend time with her; it was her putting in the effort.

"And..." She trailed off momentarily, lost in her thoughts. "after we fell in love, I'd give up my powers and live happily ever after with him, because we didn't need powers to be happy and it wasn't my powers he fell in love with in the first place."

She'd finished the tuxedo at that point, courtesy of her knitting powers, but her hands dropped to her lap afterward, not making any further movements as her thoughts took over.

Out of the corner of her vision, she saw Viperion take a quick look outside the alley, then get up to move over to her. He sat next to her, picking up one of her hands and letting it rest in his palm.

"I think your dream is really beautiful," he told her gently.

She scoffed, blushing in embarrassment at what must've been fake praise. "Chat made fun of me wanting to be the knitting fairy."

"He was wrong," he retorted immediately. "Your dream might not be realistic, but that doesn't make it any less nice, and there's nothing wrong with dreaming of the perfect guy."

She met his gaze, the softness in them having not lessened even since their break-up, and found the strength to start working on the dress. Being with Luka - dating or otherwise - had always been so easy, excluding all the factors outside of just them being them. She could vaguely imagine her younger self clinging to Luka, claiming him as hers and insisting that he marry her when they grew up.

But things weren't that easy. Nothing was. Marinette had spent her whole life fighting for what she wanted, needing to prove herself to people in order to be accepted.

Fighting for years to smile against Chloe's bullying, because no one would do anything about it. Fighting to be acknowledged by her parents as someone who could do things and didn't need their protection. Fighting against herself to be the one who didn't make all the mistakes or have to be the one to apologize in the end.

After becoming Ladybug, her future became even cloudier and the fighting continued. Waking up in the morning was even harder thanks to late-night patrols, getting through tests seemed impossible due to having less time for studying, and even maintaining a romantic relationship carried the struggle of not being able to tell them her identity.

Marinette stared at the shimmering pink and white fabric beneath her fingertips, it shaping and forming to her will. The occasional sparkle or flash from a beam of sunlight that happened to shine through reminded her of the day at the TV station, where Luka had confessed and she could see only him for just a moment.

"I'm sorry."

Viperion hummed in confusion, raising a brow at her.

"I made everything complicated for you—us," she explained. "All the time, ever since we met. I even got you akumatized, twice."

"Twi—" He blinked rapidly, then leaned closer. His hand came in contact with her cheek as he directed her gaze back to him. "You mean Silencer? How was that your fault?"

"I challenged Bob Roth, and when he grabbed me, you got upset. It pushed you over to the edge."

"You were defending me and my music," he argued, a sternness in his tone that wasn't there before as he put his hand to his chest, "and my emotions are my own. I'm the one who gave into Hawk Moth, not you."

"But..." She sighed, conflicted. "Even later, I kept my identity from you when we were dating. I made us both miserable because of it. I was so upset that I ended up yelling at my friends and they all got akumatized, and then I went and gave my identity to Alya anyway."

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, though he quickly schooled his expression for reasons she didn't know. His gaze strayed momentarily before he looked back at her, asking, "Would you be upset at me for feeling happy for a moment, knowing that you were just as miserable as I was?"

"W-what?" She shook her head; if anything, knowing that he'd also been miserable made her happy as well, probably in the same way as it was for him. It meant that they both cared about it. "No! Not at all!"

"Then I don't blame you for your emotions either."

She pouted at him, but he merely smiled in response. She knew this wasn't a matter he was going to budge on, but it was difficult for her to understand when she was so commonly blamed for things. That was Luka though, she supposed, always forgiving and able to see through her faults.

She remembered her dream husband again and tried to act like her full focus was on the dress so as to not give her thoughts away. She'd only drawn the unnamed man once or twice, and it was just occurring to her that he had black hair and blue eyes as well. Having not understood the concept of kids looking like their parents in their own way at the time, the child version of her had thought it'd be "fair," because then their children would look like both of them no matter what. It was strange, just how much the "simple" version of her love ideals lined up with the boy sitting in front of her now, even with his temporarily green eyes.

Friendship had become something very precious to her ever since the day she'd gotten her miraculous, maybe even more than love itself. Despite the complications and their brief time dating, she was friends with Luka above all else. No matter what happened in regards to the romantic aspects of their relationship, their friendship remained unchanged, like they really would be friends even if they had the worst break-up in the history of Paris. It was comfortable, to the point where she felt embarrassed for ever avoiding him in the first place.

She was reminded yet again of another stark contrast with Adrien. She hadn't been scared of starting anything with Luka, yet Adrien was a constant cloud of dread above her head, the fear of being rejected or being made fun of holding her back from doing what she wanted.

If her child self could see her now, she'd be confused. Marinette could hear her now, asking why her love - or at least, what she believed to be love - caused her so much stress. That was never what she'd wanted; in fact, it had been the exact opposite. Crushing on Adrien had done nothing but humiliate her, the little girl inside her covering her eyes from the sight. Her time with Luka, on the other hand...

"It looks beautiful."

Marinette jerked her head up to see Viperion's approving gaze, then looked down to the wedding dress in her lap. It was finished, pink with flashes of white and blacks; exactly the kind of dress she would've wanted when she was younger, though obviously with an older touch.

"Thank you," she hurried to say when she realized that she hadn't responded to him. He chuckled in reply, though it was good-natured.

He reached for the tuxedo she'd set aside, but stopped halfway as if realizing something. He looked to her, then the dress, then back to her, asking carefully, "Do you want me to keep watch while we put these on?"

It took her a moment to realize what he meant; that he - wearing a bodysuit - could easily slip on the clothes over it, but she didn't have that sort of luxury due to her dress. She managed to summon enough of her inner Ladybug to focus on the importance of the task over the potential embarrassment, giving him an appreciative nod.

She trusted him not to look.

As she went to the darkest parts of the alley to change, Viperion heading in the opposite direction, her mind drifted back to the past again. The little journey there, even if it'd been unwilling on her part courtesy of the akuma, had been a nice change from constantly worrying over her future. As important as it was to focus on what she wanted to do and plan accordingly, the past was equally as important. It shaped her into who she was now and offered insight on herself that she couldn't have gotten otherwise.

"...Lu—I mean, Viperion?" she called just as she finished putting on the wedding dress.

"Yeah?"

She turned to face him, then giggled when noticing that he still had his back turned to her. "You can look now."

He hesitated, then slowly shifted to face her. He was mostly dressed, but was in the process of buttoning up the tuxedo, his hands fumbling with one of the buttons as he took her in.

She approached, gently brushing his hands aside as she started taking care of the few remaining buttons. Not wanting to delay talking to him like before, she figured now was the best time as any to say what was on her mind.

"I still don't know what I want for my future. I feel like a lot of doors are opening and closing every day, and whenever I want to try one, there just ends up being more doors, or it's already closed when I get there. There are too many possibilities and I keep being afraid that I'll trip on the one I really want to go to." Her gaze left the button she was holding so she could meet his eyes. "I just know that I really want you to be there for all of it... i-if that's what you want." Wanting to make sure instead of presuming like she tended to do, she asked cautiously, "Do you?"

His face didn't show a visible reaction, but she heard the slight sound of him swallowing, synced up with a single blink. Afterward, he absolutely beamed at her, the smile more blinding than the light being cast against his back.

"I do," he replied,

In time with his words, the final button was slipped into place. Marinette felt a warm sensation run through her body, starting from her feet and then making her shudder as it moved its way up to her head. Her body was turning white, just as before when Wishmaker first shot her, though Viperion's tuxedo had joined as well.

There was a flash between them, and she found herself back as normal, wingless Marinette when it faded.

Viperion, now lacking what she'd made for him, still looked just as happy to see her.

"I-I did it!" she gasped, genuinely surprised that it worked. "We did it!"

She threw her hands up in the air in celebration, but snapped back to reality as she remembered that she still needed to turn back into Ladybug and take care of Wishmaker. She opened her purse, easing as she saw Tikki already munching away on a macaron.

"Marinette?"

She looked back up at Viperion, noticing that he still had something to say. "Yes?"

"I might not be able to make enough sense of your inner music to tell you what you'll want, but I don't think you have anything to worry about. I know that whatever you decide to do is going to be as extraordinary as you are."

She stifled a squeak, blushing at the sudden compliment and thankful that Tikki was still chewing the last bits of the macaron. "A-ah, thank you. You too—with the extraordinary thing, not your inner music, because I can't hear that even though I'm sure it's really amazing!"

Had it been anyone else, she might've prayed for a hole to swallow her, but it was impossible to feel weird when he smiled at her the way he did.

Once Tikki had gotten her fill, Marinette transformed and they began to leave the alley together, though Ladybug stopped partway as she remembered something; something she'd done many times before and felt it time to get back to doing.

Viperion raised a brow at her sudden stopping, then stiffened when she leaned towards him and kissed his cheek. She flashed him a smile, noting silently that she missed these little exchanges between them, then leaped away to head back to where Wishmaker was likely to be. Viperion followed suit, but a split second behind his usual speed.

She was sure he'd be smiling back if she looked, but she didn't have to; they were connected, maybe not by some sort of magic thread or cosmic force, but by them and the relationship she hoped that they would continue to build in the future.

And whenever they got back to the fight, just in time to see Chat Noir allow himself to be hit by Wishmaker's attack, a few more doors would close and her future would start to look a little different than what she'd considered that morning.

Not necessarily in a bad way either.

#type: story #story: oneshot #episode: Wishmaker #Flower Arrangement Shipping #Pro LukaMari #Vipernette #Viperbug #ViperFairy

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your-nanas-house · 3 years ago

Note

#1 of Jerome phrase for a one shot after he comes back to life and goes to see reader?

My little reporter

Pairing: Jerome Valeska X Reader

Warnings: Sew a face, fluff

Words: 716

Summary: Prompts Jerome phrases 1

Note: Sorry for the mistakes and for the English. I hope it was what you wanted, if it wasn't so, write to me and I'll rewrite it.

...............................................................

Jerome had been back to life for a few hours now and had finally managed to find his face and staple it together.

And now he was running from the impending explosion he'd caused, continuing to be unable to get one thing or to be more precise a person out of his mind since he'd awakened...Y/n, a reporter at the Gotham Globe who used to write about him in the past and whom he'd met once or twice, the first time at the GCPD, the second time at the gala and then at other shorter times.

He had an attraction towards her before, when he was alive.

The ginger found her interesting and definitely a sight for sore eyes. Oh and he loved her character and how she wasn't afraid of him.

So he decided to go straight to her, remembering perfectly the address of the building she lived in, hoping she hadn't moved or anything.

When Jerome reached the building he found it as dark as all of Gotham, he couldn't get in through the front door so he decided to climb up and get in through the window, finding the bedroom window unlocked.

Y/n continued to walk around her apartment looking for a source of light, freezing when she heard a whine and a loud thud coming from her room.

She quickly grabbed a candle and cautiously walked towards the bedroom opening the door, frowning when she saw the ginger tidying up his clothes "Jerome?!".

The man quickly turned to her, smiling mischievously "Doll! You left the window open for me? Like Romeo and Juliet, huh?" she snorted a laugh shaking her head "what are you doing here?" he quietly approached her opening his arms theatrically "I came to see how my favorite beautiful journalist is doing...and I can tell that even though it's dark you're still not bad at all, you've became more beautiful, doll face".

The young woman smiled in disbelief as she got a better look at the ginger's face gasping "what happened to your face?" Jerome moved away slightly "nothing, I just tried to reattach it" she quickly walked over to him taking a look "with a stapler?! I've got a needle and thread over there, I'll get it and sew it back on for you, stay here" she took his hand making him sit on the bed going to the bathroom to take all the stuff arranging the candles so that they made enough light, starting to pull out the needle sewing his face back in place while he stared at her slightly surprised by her actions but happy because of the sweet touch mixed with the pain he felt as she sewed, closing his eyes listening to the sweet words Y/n kept whispering while she tried not to hurt him too much.

It took her a while to sew his face back on, but she did it.

Y/n put the things back together raising her face while taking his chin and giving him a look at his face "you should see a doctor just to be safe, to avoid infection or something".

She met his gaze realizing only at that moment their closeness and took a step backwards being blocked by Jerome's grip on her hips, bringing her against his chest, getting closer purring "I've missed you, my little reporter, I'll admit it, you've been on my mind since I was resurrected and you were before too... . I was on your mind too?" he giggled at the obvious blush on Y/n's cheeks touching her nose with his, brushing her lips "huh? My little reporter?" she nodded quickly "as much as I hate it, yes, ginger, you were and you are, unfortunately" he chuckled again, quickly connecting their lips in a passionate kiss that she returned by hugging his neck.

They broke away for air looking deep into each other's eyes "you know my little reporter, I don't think I miss much being dead right now".

Y/n laughed, stroking his hair, pecking his lips again "I'm glad to hear that" he smiled happily purring again keeping his eyes closed "me too..." and it was the last thing before they connected their lips again in a passionate but strangely sweet kiss again.

Taglist:

@gabile18

@mrsfullbuster500

#gotham #gotham tv #gotham x reader #jerome valeska #jerome valeska x you #jerome x reader #jerome valeska x reader

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mytheoristavenue · 3 years ago

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could write an imagine with Cowboy Bebop Spike Speigel x Reader, where s/the fem can't sleep so he goes to the gym at bebop to train and spike hears her fight and decides to watch but sees that something is wrong. thanks

Hey! Yeah, thanks for the ask, and so sorry it took me so long to get to it! I actually answered the day after i received it, but my coputer crashed and I lost it! I just haven't had much motivation to rewrite it, but here you go!

You're new on the Bebop, hired on as a house keeper, and one night, Spike finds you in the gym and asks for your story.

Warning: Mention of drugs, abuse, injury, and depression.

Spike rolled out of bed lazily, dragging himself against gravity and toward the door to his bedroom. Once standing, he retrieved a cigarette from a pack of mentol Lucky Strikes that sat on his bedside table, before cuppung his hand around the tip and lighting it. With a sigh, he stepped through the door as it slid open before him. Slowly, he made his way across the ship to the kitchen, cracking open the refridgerator when he arrived. Rammaging through it he found a small wooden box witha plastic top. Spike grinned, deciding it looked good for a late night snack. He disgaurded the small note that sat of the top, claiming it as Ed’s lunch for the next day.

Spike didn’t seem to mind your presence on the Bebop, honestly. Jet had called you a miriad of names, ranging from a nanny to a maid. Spike didn’t really care what you were. You cooked good food, kept the place clean, didn’t fuss at him and you didn’t get in his way while he was bounty hunting. Although you were one more person Spike had to help support, quality of life had overall improved in the time you’d been there.

Idally, Spike scratched his exposed chest, absentmindedly waiting for his leftovers to finish reheating in the microwave. Within the next few minutes, Spike had flipped off the kitchen lightswitch and was wandering his way back to his bedroom, content with his snack. Halfway back to his room, he came to a fork in the corridor, his room to the right, and the communal gym to the left. Just as he was about to hang a right, somehting caught his eye. When he’d come this way ten minutes ago, the light in the gym was off, but now it was on. Who would be working out this late at night?

Creeping closer, Spike was able to make out the sounds of feminine grunting with impact against a heavy surface, peaking his interest. Rounding the corner of the door frame, he peeked in, suprised at what he found. In the middle of the room, there you were, working over a sandbag nearly twice your size. Spike smirked, leaning against the door jam, opting to finish his food with a show.

Spike watched intently as sweat flicked away form your skin with every motion, tracking every punch and kick you berated the bag with. He had to be honest, it was pretty attactive to watch. Afterall, you were jumping around in a sorts bra and athletic shorts, and Spike was a pervert. He began to wonder why Jet never let you go on missions. It was obvious that you’d had some sort of martial arts training, and you could certainly hold your own.

Eventually after about ten minutes, you had run out of steam. Spike had noticed this, tracking how your movements had began to lag and your hits were no longer quite as powerful as before. Soon your barrage came to slow end and you eventually stopped all together, as you wandered over to a nearby bench to retrieve a wattle bottle. In doing so, your body had pivoted, presenting the right side of your body. Spike’s smug grin instantly fell, his shoulders slumping, and his brows furrowing.

Spike had never seen your body exposed. You almost always wore thick turtlenecked sweaters and baggy pants, and most of the time, you had some sort of apron or cleaning smock over that. And even now that he was seeing more of your skin, in this private moment, he was able to understand this was not something he was meant to see. This was no longer childish Peeping Tom-like behavior. This was an encroachment of your boundries. This wasn’t fun for him anymore.

“(Y/N)...” he finally spoke, feeling obligated to confess his sins of stalking you.

You almost jumped out of your skin upon hearing Spike’s deep voice reverberate against the walls of the room. It was a stark contrast from the calming silence you had kept. “Spike! What are you doing?” He ignored your shock, silently stepping toward you, the only sound in the room being his bare feet tapping against the floor. He inched closer until his his chest was less that a foot away form yours. Spike loomed over you, casting a hash gaze over your entire being, making you want to back up and craft distance, but you almost felt as if you were paralyzed by his stern stare.

“How’d you get that bruise on your ribs?”

Your heart dropped knowing that he’d noticed. Part of you was terrified that you’d be forced to explain, or maybe that he meant ill will toward you, but the other part of you was angry. How dare he sit there and watch you during a private moment after everything you do for him? You spend hours everyday, cleaning his ashtrays, cooking food that he likes, finding half empty cigarette packs around the ship and leaving them where he can find them, and for what?

“You selfish little prick!” Spike was taken aback by your responce. He had hardly ever heard you speak at all, let alone with an attitude. “I do everything I can to keep this ship clean and to keep you all happy, and this is the thanks I get? Some creep spying on me?”

“(Y/N), where did you come from?” Spike asked, his eyes softening a bit after recognizing he might’ve been too harsh with you. “You can talk to me, ya know?”

“I don’t owe you any kind of explaination, Spike. Just leave me alone, you creep.” You snarled, disgusted with him as you pulled a sweatshirt over your head to cover your body. You honestly felt violated. “God, I can’t have an ounce of privacy on this damn ship. I thought between Ed and Ein following me to the bathroom, Faye constantly buggin me about who broke up in her magzine and Jet never wanting me to leave the ship alone, you’d at least give me some peace.”

Spike rolled his eyes before hardening them again, scoffing at you. “Would you just tell me what happened?”

Sighing heavily, you finally took a seat on the bench that you had set your water bottle on. Spike joined you after a few seconds of reluctence. “Before Jet found me...I was heavily addicted to Red Eye. My boyfriend sold it and convinced me to try it once and I guess I just never stopped. One of his suppliers was a gang called the Red Dragon Cindicit and he couldn’t pay them back for his supply...so they kidnapped us.” Your chest swelled a bit as you fought back tears, you mind flashing back to the horrible things that the gangsters had done to you. Meanwhile, Spike’s blood had ran cold. He was just so shocked that your past had had this corralation with his. “Finally, my boyfriend stuck a deal with their leader that if they let him have one more week to sell what he had left, he’d pay them back with interest. They kept me as calateral, and after the end of the week, they tortured me for information. I never saw him again.”

“He abandoned you?” You nodded, neglecting to look Spike in the eyes.

“I guess. After months of abuse, I finally managed to escape, and that’s when Jet found me.”

“What was his name?” He aksed, giving you a side glance.

“Asimov Solensan, did you know him?”

“I watched him die.” He repiled, pulling a cigarette form his pocket, before lighting it up. “And don’t take it personally, you’re not the only woman that bastard threw to the wolves.”

“He’s really dead?” There was a tinge of sadness in your voice. “I’d always hoped he’d come for me one day, rescue me.” Spike sighed, passing you the cigarette.

“Asimov wasn’t capable of caring for you, Katrina, or anyone else.”

You glanced up at Spike for a second, feeling embarrassed for your next question. “Katrina...was she...prettier than me?”

Spike chuckled, shaking his head. “She was a looker, that’s for sure. But pregnant women are alrways pretty.”

Your heart dropped a bit and you eyes widened a little. “She was pregnant?”

Spike’s laugher had died down but his nostalgia grin never left. “Not really. She pretended to be so she could smuggle drugs under her dress across gate lines. She did it for him.” he continued his story when he found that you were enthralled in it. “She really loved him. He promised that they were on their last job. Then they’d settle down on Mars. Finally, she realized that she’d never have that life with him, so in an effort to distroy the drugs they had, she shot him and crashed their ship. She sacrifieced herself.” Spike paused to swallow a lump in his throat. “But to answer your question. No, she wasn’t prettier than you.”

You felt selfish for asking. It seemed like Spike had made a real connection with this woman, and you felt guilty for not turning Asimov in when you had the chance. Maybe Katrina would still be around today, maybe she’d even have a family by now. “I’m sorry, Spike. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, you’re fine. I don’t mind telling you you’re pretty.” Spike smirked a bit, finishing off the cigarette you’d been sharing, before dropping on the floor and stomping it out with his bare foot. The thought of the burn made you cringe but it didn’t seem to bother him. For a moment, a comofrtable, yet awkward silence fell on the gym, befor ehe pipped back up. “Look, I’m sorry for spying on you. And thanks for taking care of us. You’re food’s pretty good.”

You smiled a bit, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. “Your welcome. And thanks.” You mumbled, standing up and stretchign out. “Well, I’m heading to bed. You should probably get some rest too.” Spike stood up after you, follwoign you into the hall and grabbing his dish on the way out. “Is that Ed’s lunch?”

“It was. Don’t worry, I’ll make her osmething tomorrow. He answered,walking with you down the hall. As you came to your room, he stopped with you, scratchign the back of his neck, as if he had something to say. “Hey, (Y/N)...I’m glad you’re here, and I hope you stay a while.” You smiled at him.

“I think I will. Ed needs me.” Spike needed against the wall, resting his head on his hand, propped up by his elbow.

“Maybe we all need you here. Maybe...I need you here.”

You blushed a bit, your smile growing brighter. “Then I’ll be here.” Punctuating your comment, you slowly reach up, cupping his left cheek, quickly planting a sweet kiss on his right. For the first time you’d seen, Spike was a bit flustered, frozen in suprise, giving you time to slip into your bedroom, before he could react.

“Did she just kiss me?”

#cowboy bebop #cowboy bebop spike #see you space cowboy #spike spiegel #spike spiegel x reader #spike #spike x reader #space cowboy #x reader #x y/n #x you #fluff #cowboy bebop fluff #request #answered

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mod-kyoko · 4 years ago

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Okay um, here goes nothing, could i request a Nsfw fic of makoto with a Dom! male!S/o (if not then just a Fem!S/o) who takes His anger Out thru Spanking Bic Mac, and one day he has a terrible day at Work, and Goes all out on Makoto when he gets home.

hiya flsjdfjfhsl thank you for the request fldkdgkgjsb

fun fact: this is my first time writing smut on this blog, but i do have experience writing it so no worries

this is gonna be fun to write >:]

side note: the request said nothing about actual se* but i wanted to write it anyway, so i will just warn you when the actual se* starts just in case that's not what you wanted!! other than that, there are a lot of suggestive themes beforehand, and if that's not what you wanted then i wouldn't mind rewriting it!!

***remember*** makoto naegi is an adult

CW: straightup smut, spanking, male reader, male anatomy, oral, fingering, anal, degradation, lil bit of fluff at the end

makoto x dom!male!reader

♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

everyone has those days that are just the absolute worst. frustrating people, frustrating jobs. though, not everyone has such a cute little toy at their disposal for when they have days like this. for you, work was much more difficult than usual this particular day. you had gotten in trouble for something another employee had done, and it was just this big mess. thankfully, you had only been reprimanded for it, but of course, the anger and frustration was still there. luckily, you knew just how your anger would find its release tonight.

before you began your drive home, you picked up your phone to text your boyfriend.

'had a bad day. you know what that means. be ready.'

after setting your phone down, you shifted in gear, and began the drive home. a deep sigh rumbled from your throat as your head was already filled with lewd images of what tonight would look like. halfway home, you felt your pants tightening around you, a bulge forming in your crotch. every image of your pretty little boyfriend gagging with your cock down his throat made you even harder, eager to get home. the ride was almost too long to bear, and by the time you had unlocked the door to your house, you were painfully hard and sweltering hot.

makoto was nowhere to be found, which probably meant he was already waiting for you in your room as you demanded. you slammed the door shut in eagerness and sexual frustration, letting him know you were home. you quickly strode towards your shared bedroom, welcomed by a blushing, naked makoto kneeling on the bed.

a smirk spread onto your face as you stepped towards him, shutting the door behind you. reaching out to ruffle his hair, you leaned into his ear. "good boy. you'll get a treat for that later. but for now, i need to take out my anger." the blush on makoto's cheeks spread rapidly as he furiously nodded. you settled onto the bed behind him, reaching your hands around his throat.

"are you ready?" you asked your small boyfriend, groping his perky round ass. with a nod, he bent over your lap. with a slight chuckle, you brought your hand up, then brought it down with full force, smacking his cheek. a loud, strangled cry rang from his lips, his legs already shaking.

"count," you growled into his ear, massaging his sore skin.

"one," he whispered, gritting his teeth.

you hit him again with the same amount of force, a high-pitched moan escaping his lips this time. "two!" he called out, panting as you brought your hand up yet again. by the third spanking, you noticed your boyfriend's dick had gotten hard, bouncing with every hit. your own bulge started throbbing under your clothing. you couldn't wait.

"you need more?" you asked him, pinching his bruised ass.

"p- please," his voice shook, a breathy moan falling out through his mouth as you spanked him again and again, each time earning a wince and a cry. by the time you reached fifteen, you decided he had enough, so you picked him up by the waist and sat him up next to you. a few tears had escaped his puffy eyes, but the moaning you heard earlier seemed to mean he was enjoying it.

**schmex starts hereee**

with a devilish grin, you grabbed his face harshly in your hand, bringing it towards your lips. your mouths crashed against each other in a sloppy, wet kiss. makoto whined into your mouth, his hands reaching for your clothed bulge. you grabbed his hand before he could touch you, squeezing it hard.

"did i tell you you could do that? do you want to be spanked again?" you whispered, causing a shiver to go down his spine. he shook his head, whimpering a little bit.

"please," he could barely meet your eyes, instead staring down at his knees. your eyes trailed down to his hardened dick that was practically begging for attention, precum leaking out the top of it's pink head.

"is that all you know how to say, slut? god, you're such a whore for me, yeah? you want me?" you teased, guiding him to kneel on all fours. he eagerly stared up at you, mouth wide open. taking your zipper into your hands, you slowly unzipped your pants, feeling a big freer. after sliding your pants off, along with your underwear, your hard cock springing free from it's cloth prison, almost hitting makoto in the face.

"suck," you commanded, glaring down at makoto.

you didn't have to tell him twice.

first, he licked up the length of your shaft, grabbing onto it. the sensation of his fingers grasping you like that sent an electrifying feeling up through your abdomen, earning a slight sigh from you. leaning your head back, you felt makoto take in your entire length between his lips, his thick saliva coating it as the inside of his throat bobbed around it. you finally let out a moan, as he gagged around you. but it wasn't enough.

you grasped onto makoto's hair, yanking it forward and thrusting your dick into his mouth, drowning out his cries with your moans as your length went in and out of him at rapid speed.

"you're doing such a good job for me baby, oh god yes," you praised him, thrusts slowing down as you felt a knot form in your stomach. suddenly, you took yourself out if his mouth, a long string of saliva pouring out through his lips, his tongue lolling out of the side. he was a bit gone after being throat-fucked like that. you gave him a light smack on his ass and he bounded back to life, whimpering.

"ass in the air, now," you demanded, hands on his hips. he complied immediately, silently getting on all fours, his ass poking up in the air. to prepare him, you reached for his mouth. "lick my fingers." he took them into his mouth graciously, covering them in his spit. you then brought your fingers up to his hole, rubbing it around the rim to tease him. he immediately clenched up, anticipating the pleasure.

"please, s/o!" he yelled out.

"you keep saying that. please, what?"

the blush returned to makoto's cheeks as he muttered. "please finger me," he shyly answered, clutching the bedsheets below him.

your middle finger penetrated him first, only halfway, before you pulled it out. for the millionth time that night, a smirk made its way onto your face as you continued doing just that, causing your boyfriend to squirm in front of you.

"you want my fingers so bad, huh? you want me to finger fuck you until you collapse? can my little slut handle that?" you teased, sliding in two fingers instead of one. makoto gasped, his hole clenching around them, a wet squelching noise coming from his ass as you pumped your fingers in and out, getting faster, and faster...

you added a third finger. his moans got louder, begging for release as your fingers came to a stop, deep inside him. you slowly pulled them out, making sure to leave him in agonizing desire, slapping his hole. he let out a yelp as you picked him up again, flipping him over on his back.

you took your cock eagerly, and rubbed the head around his hole, pushing it inside slowly. the two of you moaned in unison, his insides clenching around you, your dick throbbing with heat.

"oh yeah, you feel so good," you sighed, giving him a moment to adjust. makoto grabbed your hand, letting you know he was ready. with a low whine, you started thrusting yourself into him, hiking his legs up for more access. you watched his body bounce up and down as you forcefully pushed inside him, in and out, ruthlessly picking up the pace.

"fa- faster!" he screamed, moans echoing throughout the room as you grunted, in and out. once again, you felt that familiar knot in your abdomen, that feeling of something building up inside you. makoto screamed under you as he felt his climax build up as well, clenching around you as he cried.

finally, you felt you were about to come undone.

"i'm gonna cum, baby you're doing so good."

"i'm gonna cum too!"

with one last deep grunt, the knot came undone, your cum forcefully spilling out of your cock and into your boyfriend's little hole, all of your muscles relaxing after your release. shortly after, makoto's moans reached their loudest as his own liquids spilled out onto his stomach, his breathing raggedy and uneven. you grinned down at him, cupping his face in your hand. dragging your thumb across his cheek, you leaned down to place a sweet kiss on his lips.

"i love you makoto," you come back up from the kiss, pulling out of him. you marvel at the sight of him on his back, covered in your release, such a lewd face. since he looks tired, you get off the bed to go fetch a wet towel. you come back to find that his eyes are half closed, looking like he might fall asleep.

"go to sleep, baby," you reassured him, patting him on the head as you wiped up the mess all over his body. once he was clean, you tossed the wet rag into a basket, and laid down beside him. after draping the blankets over the both of you, you placed another kiss to his temple, before closing your eyes.

♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

that's all i have to say, just :0

kidding, i have more. uh,,, WOW. that was so fun to write, and i am by no means a makoto simp but even i was tingling a bit during that- okay tmi mod kyoko.

(i'm very sorry BAHAHA)

hope you liked it :]

-mod kyoko

#mod kyoko #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa headcanons #danganronpa #danganronpa x reader #thh #trigger happy havoc #makoto naegi #makoto naegi x reader #danganronpa smut #dra fluff #smut #cw smut #smut cw #male reader #dom!reader

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yungbud · 4 years ago

Note

Could you do some Y/N x Dom ddlg smut?

Word count: 2.6k

TW: Smut including, Daddy kink, throat fucking, bondage

A/n I wasn’t 100% sure where you wanted this to go so I tried to do a little bit of both. If you wanted it more rough or more soft i’d been happy to rewrite it for you, just shoot me a dm/ask with the direction you’d like me to take it and it should be up within the week <3 hope you like it though.

---

Dom stood in front of you, hard dick standing at attention, his tip red and swollen.

You would’ve helped. Really, you would’ve. You wanted to, even, but Dom had left you with your hands completely tied…

Well, literally.

It all started when he stayed late at the studio one night working on the album, and then another... And then another… His fans were practically begging him to take a night off, but he just wouldn’t. Sometimes he wouldn’t even bother to come home at all, heaven knows if he even bothered to sleep.

The fact was, with Dom gone so often you got a bit lonely. You’d tried explaining this to him in passing but he was just so caught up in his work, promising that when it was all done he’d spend nothing but time with you. The promises always seemed to fall flat, project after project withholding his attention from you.

And then you remembered…

You and Dom had an array of sex toys, a fond memory attached to each one. Dom also had a certain set of rules for you when it came to sex, and by assosciation said sex toys, one of them being that you were only allowed to touch them if he was there to watch you.

This rule fell through about a month in when you realized he was never home to watch you… Which also meant he was never home to catch you. You figured, he’s having fun working on his album and you deserved to have a bit of fun of your own too.

With not much left to do you’d been abusing this rule like it owed you money ever since. It was actually a lot of fun. It took a little getting used to at first, you missed Dom and wished he was here to do it instead, but pretty soon you were getting off all on your own and you even used a heating pad and stuffy for the post orgasm cuddles you were missing.

Of course you still loved and missed Dom, and would be glad to return to normal as soon as possible, but for the time being you were perfectly fine with your little situation.

You had a pretty productive day cleaning the house, you were now working on dinner, something small since you’d probably be the only one home to eat it. You worked strategically around the kitchen, cleaning up as you went, and once your food was safely in the oven and the timer was set you had a little over half an hour to kill. Wandering into the living room, you searched for the remote, finding it on the couch where you plopped yourself down and began scrolling through netflix.

God, there’s never anything good on here, you thought, it just isn’t what it used to be. You remembered when netflix had everything, and now everything had spread onto their own respective streaming services. You clicked the tv off, staring at the wall for a moment as you went over the things left to do in your head.

There’s always instagram or twitter, but those tend to piss you off in one way or another and there was nothing good on youtube.

Your thought about how your day went, reviewing everything mentally and you realized what you could fill your time with. A reward for all your hard work.

You practically ran up the stairs, wanting to fit in as much you time as possible before you had to return to make dinner.

You started off slow, squeezing your breast and pretending it was Dom instead, trailing your hand down your body until you hit the waistband of your shorts, slipping them down your legs and haphazardly tossing them across the room. You gently rubbed yourself through your underwear, pressing a few teasing fingers against your entrance. Taking a deep breath, you slide your hands up and down your thighs, allowing your eyes to close and your body to fully relax before reaching over, wrapping your fingers around the small, pink vibrator that was sat beside you on the bed, shifting it on and pressing it against your clit.

Inhaling a sharp breath at the feeling, your hips moved along with your actions. Soft moans fell from your lips, taking a moment to rid yourself of your underwear before continuing. You tried to imitate the motions of Dom, pretending he was laid next to you and whispering dirty things in your ear, encouraging you to continue.

His plush lips pressed against your neck, leaving bites in his wake that would surely show up tomorrow. His tattooed middle finger coming down to press inside you, pumping it in and out a few times before curling it inside you.

He seemed so far away, and yet closer than you thought.

What you hadn't known was that Dom had chosen to come home early today so he could spend dinner with you, and he was standing in the doorway watching as you slid the vibrator up and down your glistening pussy, whimpering his name.

“Hm, dinners ready.” Your actions snapped to a pause in shock “Oh don’t worry, love. I got it.”

Your eyes opened slowly, unsure if you really wanted to acknowledge the scene in front of you.

Dom stood in front of you, eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed as he stared you down.

“S’that?” He questioned, knowing damn well what it was, but wanting to hear you admit it. You wrapped your hand tightly around it, a futile attempt to hide the item in your hand. Dom tilted his head disapprovingly at this, walking over to you and peeling your hand open to take it from you, clicking it off. He cleared his throat, putting it on display for you, his gaze boring into the side of your head as he waited for an explanation.

“Nothing to say for yourself?” There was A moment for you to plead your case. Nothing. “Alright, fine.” He says, sitting on the bed motioning for you to lay over his lap. You looked up at him, eyes wide and innocent in a silent plea. When his stern look didn’t budge you complied, perching your ass into the air a bit.

“Are you going to tell me what you were doing, or am I going to have to get it out of you?” Dom asks, his hand rubbing soothingly over your ass.

“I was masturbating.” Dom hummed, his hand coming down in a sharp smack against your ass.

“With?”

“A toy.” another, his hand smoothing over the already reddening skin.

“Which?”

“I’m not supposed to do unless you’re here to watch me.” twice in a row this time

“So, let me get this straight. You knew you were being disobedient, and decided to do it anyway?”

“Yes sir.”

“Well, at least you’re telling the truth.” Dom said, leaning down to whisper in your ear “‘fraid you would’ve been better off lying, love.” His hand coming down thrice more on your already raw ass. Your teeth dug into your lip as you tried your best to hold back the squeaks that clawed their way up your throat.

“Do you want me to count, daddy?” You offered, trying to earn yourself a few brownie points.

“No, I’ll stop when I’m good and damn ready.” And he did exactly that. Although he didn’t ask you to count, you did so anyway. You found it helped to distract from the pain. You got up to around twenty when he finally stopped, leaning down to place a kiss on your red bottom. It wasn’t that you didn’t like it, but when you were genuinely in trouble with Dom, when you had so blatantly disobeyed him, the spankings came across as a bit more of a genuine punishment than normal. He wanted it to be sexy and feel good, but he also wanted you to know that your behavior was not acceptable.

“Your ass is so red. Does that hurt?” He asks, concern lacing his tone

“Yes.” You whimper, pouting back at him

“Awh, you poor baby. Probably should’ve thought about that before you decided to break one of my rules.” He said, smacking your ass once again. Shoving you off his lap, he left the room, leaving you alone on the bed, staring at the ceiling as you waited patiently for him to return.

You hadn’t actually seen him as he walked back in the room, only acknowledging his return when you felt his hands wrapping around your wrists. Before you realized what was happening your wrists were tied to the head board, your gorgeous boyfriend hovering over you, pulling your shirt up to admire your tits.

“Since you got to get off, it’s daddy’s turn.” He said, pulling his pants down just enough to pull out his swollen prick, jerking it off inches from your face. He tapped your jaw, your mouth opening at his command, slipping his dick down your mouth slowly. You were gagging before he was all the way in, staring up at him from your place on the bed. He groaned at the feeling of his tip hitting the back of your throat, your gags only encouraging his thrusts as he fell into a rhythm.

“Oh fuck, princess.” He moans, hand wrapped up in your hair, tugging at it lightly, his hips moving methodically as he ruthlessly fucked your throat.

There was a string of spit from your throat to his tip when he pulled out, Dom’s hand coming by to swipe it out of the air. He sat up a bit, placing his balls in your mouth as he continued pleasuring himself, his head hung back in pleasure. You lifted your head in an attempt to return his tip to your mouth, but Dom crawled off of you and stood beside the bed instead.

And there you were, with Dom stood in front of you, hard dick standing at attention, his tip red and swollen.

“I’m sorry, daddy.” You say, choking back tears

“Then why’d you do it, princess? Hm? Just such a horny slut you couldn’t help yourself? You know what I think? I think you did it on purpose because you thought I’d never catch you. I don’t think you’re sorry for doing it, I think you’re sorry you got what you had coming for being such a disobedient little slut.” He hummed, swiping a piece of your hair behind your ear “But thats okay, because I promise” He says, his tone sinister “that after tonight you won’t need to touch that pretty little pussy for awhile.”

“No, I really am sorry for disobeying you, I promise.” You plead, letting your hips flatten against the bed.

“So are you going to tell me why you did it or just keep apologizing? Because only one of those is going to get you anywhere but a wheelchair tonight, pretty girl.” You avoided eye contact, focusing on the pattern of your bed sheets as you tossed the thought around in your head, hesitating to tell him what had really been going on.

“You’ve just been gone for so long and you’re never home anymore. It gets so boring and lonely being here by myself all the time and I wasn’t able to get myself off and you weren’t here to do it so one night I reached into the drawer and I used one of the toys and it just felt so good… ” You rambled, tears welling up in your eyes as the feelings of resentment and loneliness poured out of you all at once. Dom stopped for a moment, untying your hands and moving you up to a sitting position, enveloping you in a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry, princess. I hadn’t even thought of it like that.” His lips connected with yours in a soft kiss, his hand coming up to hold the side of your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. When he pulled away he left a series of kisses all over your face, an apology after each one.

“Come here.” He whispers, pulling you on top of him.

His lips connected with yours as he began pushing himself in, waiting for you to move against him before continuing his actions. His strokes were long and slow, making sure you felt every single inch of him. His lips leave small kisses along the length of your neck, hands gripping at your ass, your own scratching down his back.

“Well, I guess I’m here now.” He jokes, reaching over to grab the vibrator, pressing it firmly against your clit. You were already close from before, the punishment only adding to the little ball of pressure you could feel building in your tummy.

Pathetic, needy whimpers slipped past your lips as your orgasm came over you.

“I got you princess.” He whispers, you can feel Dom twitch inside you as he comes up on his own, releasing inside you with a heavenly moan. He remained inside you, allowing the two of you to ride out your highs, before pulling out and collapsing next to you. It took you both a moment to catch your breath, but when you did Dom was the first to speak.

“Okay, new rule.” He turned to you “You’re allowed to use the toys when I’m going to be consecutively busy, but if you can I want you to call me, or if I'm busy send me photos. Daddy loves to see his little girl getting off, I don’t wanna miss a thing.” He says, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Come on, lets go eat.” You said, attempting to sit up, but being pulled back down by Dom.

“Dinner can wait, you need a bath.” He says, picking you up and carrying you into the en suite bathroom. He set you on the counter, mindful of your bum, before turning to heat up the bath water. He turned back to you as he filled the tub, kissing you softly on the lips as he waited. You denied his offer to pick you up and set you in the tub, opting to walk the step and a half there yourself, sinking into the inviting water and letting it soothe your ache.

He seemed extra protective of you, your words obviously going to heart. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten so caught up in his work and left you home all alone feeling like that. Worse yet, you’d expressed these emotions to him before and he shrugged them off. He was determined to make it up to you.

Dom let you pick a bath bomb, watching as you marveled at the colors. He dragged his attention away from you eventually, once again leaving you alone in the room.

When he returned he had a plate of food in his hand, setting it on the edge of the tub for you and playing with your head as you ate, asking you how you’d been while he was away.

He waited for you with a warm towel when you were ready to get out, tentatively drying you off. He allowed you to dress yourself, sitting on the edge of the cabinet as he watched. After dinner and your bath, he tucked you in, placing a kiss on your forehead and promising to be there when you woke up in the morning, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you drifted off to sleep.

#Yungblud #yungblud smut #yungblud fic #yungblud x reader #yungblud aftercare #yungblud fanfic #Dominic harrison #dominic harrison smut #dominic harrison fanfic #dominic harrison x reader #dominic harrison aftercare

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hangovercurse · 4 years ago

Text

Thesis

After a bad day, Colson comes over to take care of you, only to find out about a secret you’ve been keeping from him.

Request: “I was wondering if you could do a Kells fic where he's dating the reader and finds out she is c*tting, and helps her. Its total ok if you aren't comfortable writing this though 🖤”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: discussion and depictions of self-harm, cursing, angst

A/N: Gonna get really serious with this one: If you are struggling with self-harm (in all forms, not just those discussed in this text) or issues with your mental health, please reach out to someone! Family, friends, anyone. I know it’s hard and you may feel like no one cares, but I promise someone does. If you don’t feel comfortable telling someone you know, message me. My page is a safe space and I will never judge you. I promise you, the world is a much better place with you in it and you deserve to take up space, you deserve to be happy.

On that note, do not read this if you feel it may be triggering to you, please.

Word Count: 2457

You sighed as you read the email subject Re: Y/L/N Final Thesis Revised 2. Every time your doctoral advisor sent you an email in response to any work on your thesis, it wasn’t good.

Ms. Y/L/N,

I regret to inform you that the corrections that you have made are still not adequate enough for submission to the board. Please read my notes attached for further work to be done.

You didn’t even bother reading the rest of the email, instead choosing to slam your head down against your wooden desk. “Fuck!” You yelled to your empty house.

You had rewritten your doctoral thesis 4 times already and submitted for approval twice, both of which were rejected. Your advisor was trying to be patient with you, but you could tell his tolerance was running low. “What am I doing wrong?” You whispered to yourself, closing your eyes as you let your head rest against the wood.

Maybe you’re just not smart enough. That unhelpful voice in your mind chimed in, making you groan. Seriously though, if you were smarter, then you would have been approved already.

Your chest started tightening and you felt nauseous, tears coming to your eyes. You reached around for your phone, hearing Colson’s voice in your mind. “If you have a bad day, text me. You can always talk to me.”

Hey

You texted him, hoping he would respond soon. Your breathing was getting heavier and you just wanted to talk to someone that wasn’t the voice in your head.

Hey, I’m in the studio rn, everything ok?

My thesis got rejected

Again :(

I’m sorry babe

Wanna see you

Colson didn’t answer for a few moments, and you had a feeling he was letting out a frustrated sigh. You hated bothering him at work, it always made you feel like a nuisance to him.

I can’t leave right now

You’ll be okay

It’s just a paper

Now it was your turn to let out a sigh. Colson didn’t exactly understand why this was so important to you. Every time you got upset after it didn’t turn out well, he told you the same thing, “It’s just a paper, you can just rewrite it.”

But it’s not just a paper. It’s currently the only thing standing between you and a doctorate degree. And you’ve rewritten it four times before.

He’s just sick of you whining about it.

You annoy him

He doesn’t care about you

You got up from your desk and made your way to the bathroom, not sure if you were going to throw up or do something worse. The voice kept speaking, her incessant words running through your head.

You know what’ll make you feel better.

And you did. You had been trying to stop, and you were doing pretty good until a few weeks ago. Up until that point it was rare, a few times a month. Now it was 4 times a week; more days than not.

You reached under your bathroom counter, pulling out the small, inconspicuous makeup bag. You brought it over and set it on the edge of the bathtub, sitting on the floor next to it.

The zipper felt familiar under your fingers as you pulled it, the metal coming into view. Your secret stash of hellish paradise.

You pulled one of the razers out, feeling the coolness on your skin. Pulling up the sleeve of your sweater, you placed the sharp edge against the fragile skin on your wrist. You took a deep breath as you slid it across the skin, not even wincing at the pain. The blood rolling out of the wound was beautiful to you, a therapy in itself. You laid the arm over the bathtub, taking another slice at your wrist.

You had to be careful not to go too close to the hand or else the sweaters you wore could ride up and expose you, and you couldn’t make too many cuts or someone would be bound to notice.

Once you had made 4 slits in your skin, you stopped. The razor fell to the edge of the bathtub as you watched the blood drip down your arm, gravity pulling it towards your hand to pool in your palm. As fucked up as it was, you liked the view. The pain barely registered to you anymore.

It felt like all the fears were draining from your body with the blood. You knew it would all come back eventually, but in this moment, you felt peace. Your stomach stopped turning and your chest loosened. And for just a little while, the voices in your head were gone.

You laid there for probably 30 minutes, the peaceful silence engulfing you. Eventually you came back to your senses, realizing the mess you had made. You sighed, standing up and turning the faucet on. You watched the blood that sat in the tub wash away before running your arm under the water. It stung a bit, but the blood disappeared from your arm, leaving you with the visual of 4 dark red cuts.

Once the tub was clean, you moved to the cabinets under the sink again, this time grabbing a package of band-aids and covering the marks that were bleeding slightly after the water pressure opened them up again. You ran the blade under water from the sink to clean it before throwing it back in the bag and hiding it. Satisfied that all evidence of your sins was gone, you pulled down the sleeves of your sweater and made your way to your couch to watch a true crime documentary.

A little over a half hour later Colson texted you.

Picking up your favorite food :)

Be over in 10

You smiled at your phone for a second before guilt crept into your mind. How could you think that he doesn’t care about you? He’s never done anything but love you.

You are the world’s worst girlfriend.

You bit your lip, trying to make the thoughts go away. You didn’t want to be upset when Colson got there, it would spoil his whole night.

It didn’t quite work, but you were able to put on a fake smile when he got to your door. He set the bags of food on your coffee table before flopping on top of you on the couch. His face buried into your neck, pressing soft kisses onto the skin all over. He did this whenever he knew you were sad, it made you laugh.

He sat up, looking down on you, “how’s my girl doing?” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Better now that you’re here.” You mumbled, throwing your clothed arms around his middle and pulling him back against you. He chuckled and flipped you around so his back was against the couch and you were resting on his chest.

You smiled at him, you don’t deserve him, the voice screamed. You ignored it, burying your head into his shirt, the smell of him filling your nose. “What’re we watching?”

Your voice was muffled by the fabric, “The Vanishing of Elisa Lam.”

He looked up, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “of course we are.”

“We can watch something else.” You mumbled. Colson chuckled and sat up, pulling you with him to rest in his lap, your back against his chest.

His long arm reached to grab the food off the table, setting one box in your hands. “Your weird true crime show is fine, babe. You choose tonight.” He kissed your cheek, making you smile and sink further into his chest.

A little while passed and you had both finished your food, placing the empty boxes on the table. Colson’s arms were around your waist and you moved to hold his hands. You had tried wrapped your palm over the back of his hand, but he flipped his hand so his palm encased yours. As the documentary played, he began to rub circles into your skin subconsciously, moving down your wrist slowly.

In his arms you momentarily forgot about your session in the bathroom from earlier, but when his thumb brushed against the bandage on your arm you were shocked back into reality. “What’s that?” He mumbled, chin resting on your shoulder and looking down to the shirt sleeve.

“Nothing, I cut myself doing dishes earlier.” You lied, it being second nature at this point.

Colson’s hand moved to the edge of your sleeve, moving to roll it up. “You’re so clumsy sometimes.”

You yanked your arm out of his hand as you felt the fabric moving up, “what are you doing?” You asked, holding your arm closer to yourself subconsciously.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “I was gonna kiss it better.” He mumbled.

“It’s fine, you don’t need to.” You sighed, turning your attention back to the TV. He didn’t like that answer and based off of your reaction, he could tell something was up.

He reached to hold your arm again, and you relaxed into his touch, thinking he would just hold your hand. Instead, he dragged your sleeve up your arm, exposing four band-aids on your wrist and older, exposed scars.

“Colson!” You yelled, standing up and wiggling out of his grasp.

He had a shocked expression on his face that slowly turned into a mixture of concern and hurt. He tried to form words but was struggling. Finally, he got out a whispered “why?”

You bit your tongue, arms wrapped around your body as you faced away from him. Your breathing got heavy and you could feel tears coming to your eyes. He’s definitely gonna leave you now.

When you didn’t respond he stood up slowly, walking towards you and wrapping his arms around you. His lips met the top of your head briefly before replacing them with his chin.

The feeling of his embrace was enough to send your walls crashing down, tears finally falling down your face. You shook in his arms, your knees buckling under you. He whispered as he held you up, “hey hey hey hey, I’m here, baby. I’m right here. You can talk to me.” He led you back to the couch, pulling you back into his lap. You turned towards him and buried your face into his chest. His arms wrapped around you tighter than they ever had before.

Your sniffles filled the room, followed by your quiet “I’m sorry.”

Colson shook his head, taking your face in his hand and moving it away from his skin so you were forced to look at him. “You don’t have to be sorry.” You nodded and he slowly wiped the tears from under your eyes. The soft motion made you calm down ever so slightly. After a few minutes of being held, your sobs stopped, tears not falling as hard. “Can we talk about this.”

You sniffled but nodded your head, your eyes not meeting his. “I’m not gonna be upset with you, or angry. I just need you to be honest with me, okay?” He asked, his blue eyes searching your face. You simply nodded again, turning your head all the way down so your nose was parallel to the floor. The top of your head pressed against Colson’s chest.

“How long?” His voice was a whisper, but it held an infinity of emotion.

You mumbled out a response, “a while.” You could feel how fast his heart was beating, “Before I met you. It’s just gotten a lot worse lately.”

He nodded, sucking his lips in. “Why didn’t you talk to me? You know you can always talk to me, darling.”

New tears fell from your eyes. “I tried to.” You whispered, feeling guilty. His hand moved to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear.

He took a few moments to remember what you were talking about before he sighed. “Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that you were so upset. I didn’t know.” He whispered, “But I know now, so from now on you gotta tell me if you feel like doing this to yourself.”

You nodded against him. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that. Don’t be sorry, why are you sorry?” He asked

You shrugged, “sorry you have to deal with me.”

He grabbed your face again, this time forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Don’t ever say that again. Okay? I fucking love you. You’re going through some shit right now, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop loving you. I don’t want you to ever think that.” As he spoke his harsh tone got softer, quieter.

“I just don’t feel like I’m good enough, for anything.” You slumped into him, your head laying on his shoulder.

His arms pulled you further into him, “Y/N, you are the smartest, most amazing, most beautiful person I’ve ever met. You’re literally about to become a doctor! That’s fucking incredible. I am so proud of you.”

“’m not really gonna be a doctor.” You mumbled, “I can’t get this fucking thesis approved.”

He sighed into your hair, “You are going to get through this. You have worked your ass off to get here, I know you’re not gonna let a stupid paper get in your way.” He pressed a kiss into your hair and you looked up to him, a pout still on your face. “Baby you aren’t just good enough, you’re better. I know it feels shitty right now but you’re gonna get through this. And I’m gonna be right here with you.”

He leaned down and pressed a deep kiss to your lips. It took a second, but you kissed him back. “Thank you.” You whispered when you pulled away, reaching up to wipe your tears away with the sleeve of your sweatshirt.

“I love you.” He whispered, “do you think we could throw your blades away?” He asked softly.

“I might need your help.” You whispered. He nodded, lifting you off his lap and standing up. He grabbed your hand and you led him to your bathroom. You found the bag and handed it to him. “I can’t…” You whispered, trying to stop the tears you felt behind your eyes.

Colson nodded, taking it from you and opening it, frowning at the metal inside. “I don’t want to throw them away here, because you could get them out of the trash later. So, I’m gonna take them back to my house tomorrow and I’ll throw them out there.”

You nodded, hand squeezing his. You moved closer to him, resting your free hand on his shoulder, and pressing your cheek against his chest. “I love you.”

He smiled down at you, wrapping his arm around you, “I love you too.”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson baker angst #colson imagine

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morizoras-cave · 4 years ago

Text

Purple Patches

Benedict Cumberbatch x Teen!Co-Star!Reader, Tom Holland x Teen!Co-star!Reader

Genre: Angst, fluffy ending

Description: Filming the newest Dr. Strange movie (in which Tom would also appear), you grow quite close with the two leads, Tom and Benedict. But you’re hiding something alarming from them. Four months in the entire crew get a week off to see their families for Christmas, and when you return Tom and Benedict can’t help but feel troubled, as your body is rippled with purple patches.

Warnings: CHILD ABUSE, physical abuse, broken family, alcoholism, depression, anxiety??

A/N: I had another imagine written but im ngl its kind of.. weird? its unconventional for sure. and its definitely bad. so, maybe ill rewrite someday or something? ALSO SORRY IF YOU DONT CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS, JUST IMAGINE YOU HAVE SOME SORT OF EVIL CHRISTIAN STEP DAD WHO FORCES IT INTO YOUR FAMILY

The taxi you sat in drove slowly in the New York traffic, as snow fell outside, coating the entire city in blinding white. You couldn’t enjoy it however. Your entire body hurt, and yet you still couldn’t find even a moment to worry about your health. All you could think about was them.

Tom and Benedict. Your sweetest coworkers, and at this point your closest.. anything. Family, friends? Who cares, you had no one else. You’d gone back for the holidays like everyone else, even though you wished you could have just stayed at in your trailer. Your dad, like any other time you saw him, had used this time to pour his anger and alcoholism out on you. Your body which had finally begun to heal, was now back to square one, covered in cuts and bruises.

You knew what would happen if anyone found out. You’d be taken from your family. But in truth, although you hated being around him, you wanted to wait for your dad. You wanted to wait for him to get over his alcoholism, you wanted him to get better, and then he’d treat you better.

But they would find out. You were covered in bruises and purple patches. Your face was fine, except for your neck, but the rest of your body was ruined. Ugly. You could hide most of it, but it hurt. Even just sitting there, in the soft and plush taxi seat, you body was aching and wailing like a police siren.

And what if they noticed you foundation-covered hands? Or the movie required you to wear something more revealing?

“You okay?” the deep voice of your taxi driver ripped you from your thoughts. A single tear had slid down your face. You cleared your throat and nodded, wiping the tear from your cheek.

You arrived at the set, and an impossible knot had been tied in your stomach. Nervousness tingled in your heart and your legs, but you got up anyway, trying to calm your breath. The moment you stood up, you winced and stopped.

You managed to roll your luggage to your trailer, biting your lip continuously in order to keep yourself from screaming. You threw it on the floor of your trailer, whimpering and doubling over in pain.

“Y/n!” a rapid knock on your door, interrupted you. It was Tom’s voice. You took a shaky breath, closing your eyes, and then opening the door. Tom stood there in your doorway like a smiling idiot. Your lips widened into a smile just from seeing him.

“Y/n!” he repeated stepping inside and wrapping his arms around you in a hug. You bit your lip again, hiding your pain-wrenched face in his chest, before hugging him back. He placed his head on yours sweetly. “I missed you!” he gushed.

You hit his chest playfully, “I missed you too,” you frowned for a moment and looked away. Tom’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you okay?” You simply nodded. Tom stared at you for a moment and then shook his head. “Anyway, um, Benedict asked me to tell you that he’s invited both of us youngsters out for dinner tonight. Just as one last ‘fuck you!’ to work, before officially start back up tomorrow.”

“That does sound like something he would do,” you agreed and Tom laughed, punching your shoulder playfully. You yelped loudly, retreating quickly from him.

“Woah,” he exclaimed, holding his hands up, “Are you okay? What happened to your shoulder?”

“I fell,” you said. Nervousness jabbed at your ribs. You’d barely talked to Tom for a minute and he’d already asked if you were okay twice. He seemed to buy your explanation, and apologized for accidentally hitting your sore shoulder, to which you nodded absently.

Tom was silent for a couple of heartbeats. He studied you. You were not usually like this. Or maybe you had been a little like this those four months ago, when you first started filming. He didn’t understand what caused you to be that way, so distant and unhappy.

“Hey, anyway, I’m gonna go, I’m trying to actually read the script this time,” he joked, and you laughed because you knew it was a hopeless task.

“Have fun,” you mumbled, and as soon he left, you body slid down against the wall, and your facade crumbled, tears leaving your eyes.

___________________________

Before the dinner, you took three pain killers. Then, you waited restlessly, hoping that the pills might kick in. They did but your body felt strange and buzzy. You ignored it, a blossoming hope forming in your chest that you might be able to conceal your pain in the pills and the clothing.

Benedict came knocking on your door around 7, a smile on his face. “Y/n!” he said, and you both hugged. A small smile had formed on your lips, when you actually managed to deal with the ache, now much weaker than previously.

You both then walked to Tom’s trailer, and then the three of you walked to a restaurant, not too far from your filming location.

“So, what have you two been up to in our little break?” Benedict asked once you all sat down, having ordered already. You glanced at Tom, hoping that he’d start.

“Me and my brothers went back home to our mum and dad. Had a pretty regular Christmas. I gave the best gifts. I got some pretty cool socks,” Tom joked around. You and Benedict stifled a laugh. Then both Ben and Tom looked at you, and you realized it was your turn to tell them about what you’d been up to.

“Oh, well, I.. I spent Christmas with my parents. My grandparents and cousins also came,” you were lying through your teeth. You avoided their eyes, sipping your soda.

“Got any presents?” Benedict asked and you cursed at yourself internally for forgetting such a simple part of Christmas. And for making things awkward.

“I got some clothes, some books. Pretty standard stuff,” you forced a smile, “What about you, Benadryl?”

Benedict rolled his eyes at your comment, making you and Tom fist-bump one another, giggling quietly as he told you about his own Christmas. The night was going alright, except for that rough start. Mostly you avoided any talk of your family, and you could feel yourself getting better, the further the conversation got from your family. Until-

“Y/n, what’s that on your hand?”

Instinctively, you pulled your hand to your lap, straightening yourself up and gulping. You looked down, pretending to inspect it and then looked up.

“It’s, uh, it’s dirt. Wow, I should really go wash my hands, haha-” Tom grabbed your hand from under the table, pulling it towards him. Your foundation was wearing off, a large purple patch stemming from your wrist and snaking up your hand revealing itself.

You couldn’t breathe. Both Tom and Ben just stared at it. You tried to pull back but Tom was much stronger than you. Tears blurred your vision.

“Y/n, what is this?” Tom whispered, and you felt his fingers rubbing the bruise gently. The tears finally fell, and now both men were looking at you. Benedict looked serious. It was an expression you’d never really seen on his features before, at least not outside of your acting.

“I-I fell..” you mumbled, but you knew it was useless.

“Y/n.. Who did this?” Benedict’s voice was low, gently setting a hand on your shoulder. You flinched.

“I don’t know.. I don’t..”

“Y/n!” Tom’s voice was raised. You immediately jumped away from them both, putting your arms in front of you in fear. Several people turned to look at you three. Shaking, you lowered your hands, and saw Tom and Ben staring at you worriedly. Tom had tears in his eyes.

“Let’s talk about this back at the studio, okay?” Benedict, now afraid to touch you, spoke slowly and comfortingly. You nodded and then two men got up, standing on either side of you, grabbing one of your hands each.

“Was it your dad?” Tom growled as you walked in the night, moon rising in the sky.

“Yes..” you whispered, so low you wondered if they heard it, but they did. They both exchanged glances. Tom was furious. Benedict was too, but he was collected. Tom itched to ask you more and help you, console you right there on the street, but Benedict sent him a warning look not to.

You walked back to the studio in silence. The three of you entered your trailer and you quietly wished you had predicted something like this would happen, because the bottle of strong pain killers was still out and open on your kitchen table.

Benedict spotted them immediately and grabbed them. His eyes narrowed as he read the bottle description. Then he looked at you and then it again. Tom watched helplessly, holding your shoulders gently.

“How many more are there? Bruises.” Ben was clearly angry. He was losing his cool, hands shaking as he grabbed your hand to pull up your sleeve. You tried to move his hand away, but he slid the sleeve up to your elbow and just stared at the blue, yellow and purple that littered your arm. Tom was frozen beside you.

Ben slid up your other sleeve, breathing speeding up as he saw more, and then he tugged at the collar of your turtleneck, exposing the jarring and ugly sight of a red handprint. He pulled away suddenly, walking away from you.

“Fuck!” he yelled, hitting the wall of the trailer. He hung his head low. You jumped and turned around, but Tom simply embraced you, and then sat you both down on the floor. You hid your face in his neck, sobbing again. Tom’s hands slowly rubbed your back.

“Okay..” said Benedict after a while. You could hear that he’d calmed down. Ben angrily wiped a few tears from his face, turning to you and Tom on the floor. Tom was simply frowning now. He never wanted to let you go. He never wanted any harm to come to you.

“I’m gonna call the police and get your dad arrested,” he said, and you heard his footsteps, as he wondered what to do next.

“No!” you exclaimed, scrambling to your feet away from Tom. Both men looked at you in confusion. “No! You can’t do that, he’s- he’s just trying to get better. If I wait a little longer, he’s going to get better.”

“Y/n..” Benedict whispered sadly and you ran to him hoping to stop him. “You can’t wait for him. You’re putting yourself in danger..” you shook your head, but Ben grabbed your shoulders and looked into your eyes, “he’s a grown man, Y/n. He doesn’t deserve pity or patience. Not after doing this. Nothing excuses this. Nothing.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, lip quivering, but still you nodded.

“Can your mother take care of you?” Ben asked, piercing blue eyes still staring into your soul. There was no point in lying anymore, you knew.

“No.”

“Alright, then you’ll stay with me.” Ben declared, “You’ll stay with me until we can find someone from your family who can take care of you.” You looked up at him with shining eyes. Despite the uncomfortable situation you found yourself in, a genuine smile broke out on your face.

You hugged him, thanking him breathlessly. Ben and Tom made eye contact, and smiled gently at each other. Tom had cried silently at your interaction. The thought that someone would hurt someone he loved so dearly shattered his heart completely.

“Now,” Benedict said finally, “we need to drive you to the hospital.”

You agreed and while Tom drove, Ben was in the backseat on the phone with the police department. You just watched the beautiful neon lights shining in the pitch black night, snow illuminating the ground. People still littered the streets.

You knew it now. Your father didn’t deserve your waiting, and though it would take very long to finally live with and truly understand, it was worth it to start the fight. You truly owed it to the two jerks you worked with. What would you even do with out them?

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