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writefasttalkevenfaster · 4 years ago

Text

John Munch / Simple

Prompt: “Suck it” “oh i’m gonna suck something”

Word Count: 3,887

Warnings: canon typical situations and violence, discussion of rape (non-graphic), hurt/comfort apparently, fin and munch are literally some of my fav characters to write for lmao, some discussion of the psych evals from 1x22

A/N: what is this? how did this happen? I don’t know - i blame @laneygthememequeen mostly, but also my friends for enabling me beyond belief lmao.

“Am I allowed to come in or must I bow and show my allegiance before I am deemed worthy?” and you didn’t need to look up from your desk to know who it was. Your pen still moved, scribbling notes in the margins of the answer that was given to you by Roger Klessler — more hassle than law.

“No need for allegiance, Detective Munch — I know you only give that to your squad and your string of conspiracy theories,” you finish with the page, sparing him a glance, “only compliance is needed — the one thing you didn’t do on the last case.”

“Your hands aren’t exactly clean yourself, counselor,” he shuts the door behind him, slipping his hands into his pockets, “what did you do to get that warrant again?”

You raise an eyebrow, “Are you questioning my integrity?”

“Funny, I didn’t know lawyers had any,”

“They don’t, but I can try, can’t I?” you lean on your elbow, “what do you need?”

“We have a suspect in holding who just invoked, we thought they might be a little more conducive to having an A.D.A. in the box with them,” he tilted his head.

“Alex isn’t available?”

“Alex told us to get you,” you held in your sigh, “don’t you lawyers talk to each other?”

“No, we communicate through telepathy,” you reply drily, grabbing your coat and bag, “Let’s go.”

~~~

“Counselor, you should remind your client that his options are running out,” to say this meeting was going poorly would have been the understatement of the century, “and my patience is running thin.”

A serial child and women abuser — with videos abusing so many children and women over the last twenty years, videos that made your stomach turn — and to make matters worse, he had made into a business, selling these children and women and their pain for profit — and now it was time to make his pain your profit.

“You have no evidenc—”

“We have a witness who saw your client, we have his DNA being run against the blood that was found at the scene, and when it comes back it will match and your client will be facing life in prison—” your teeth grit, “And I’ll be sure he gets it. Or, give up your sick buddies. And maybe you’ll have the possibility of parole in the far off future.”

“You fucking bitch—” he spits at you.

“Is that the best you can do?” you raise an eyebrow, as you see Munch tense out of the corner of your eye, “Mr. Bradford, I’m not scared of you. I’m not a defenseless child or battered woman you can intimidate—” you cross your arms, “not so easy picking on someone who can fight back, is it?”

Bradford lunges, but Munch shoves him back into his chair, “Do we need to add assault on an A.D.A. to your laundry list of charges, Bradford?” and you blink, slack jawed, a shiver going down your spine — if Munch was a second later— “Try that again and I’ll have you—”

There’s a knock on the window, and your eyes snap over, “Control your client, counselor, or I’ll have him locked up in solitary,” your jaw is set — you wouldn’t give him the pleasure of seeing you waver, “the offer had 24 hours — it now has an expiration date in ten, so look forward to hearing from you in one.”

The door shuts behind you, your fingers white knuckling the handle of your briefcase. Liv frowns, “Are you—”

“I’m fine,” you wave them off, as Munch emerges from the room as well, “tell me when he caves to my offer. And when you’re setting up the sting to get the other guys — I want to be there to make everything go smoothly. No screw ups this time.”

“All due respect, counselor, but we don’t need a babysitter,” Fin says.

“All due respect, Detective, maybe you do,” you swallow the lump sitting on your throat, “we need to nail these guys — we have all of New York, 1PP, and the D.A.’s office all breathing down our necks — it needs to be airtight,” you scan all of their faces, “unless all of you would like to take the heat?”

“I don’t think any of us want that, counselor,” Cragen cuts in, “we appreciate your help. We’ll let you know when we decide to go ahead with the sting.”

You nod curtly, intent on leaving the precinct as quickly as you could — the image of Bradford lunging at you still fresh and stinging — but nothing was that easy, “Counselor,” Munch was at your side, standing beside you at the elevators, as you pressed the button, “in a rush?”

“To go home? Yes,”

“I just wanted—”

“Wanted what, Munch? What do you want?” you sigh exasperatedly, fighting a losing battle for your voice not to break, “I’m not in the mood for a verbal sparring match, so why don’t we take a rain check?”

The elevator doors ding, and you step in, hoping to spare yourself the agony of a response, but he follows, the doors shutting behind him.

But surprisingly his voice was soft, “I wanted to make sure you were okay,”

“I’m fine,” you cross your arms, hoping that it would hold you together, until you got to your office, “I’m not scared of him, Munch—”

“I know you could kick his ass, counselor, I’m not asking you if you’re ready to go seven rounds in the ring with him—” he leans against the wall of the elevator, “I’m just asking if you’re alright.”

You raise an eyebrow, “John Munch asking me if I’m alright? No sarcastic remark?”

“I know, I’m surprised myself, I might have to ask Skoda to do a psych eval on me,” and you crack a smile, shaking your head.

“It was scary,” you admit, something you didn’t want to, “I’ve been threatened before — messages, verbally, even had a guy say he would kill my family—” you bite your lip, “but I never had someone try something, physically before.”

“It’s okay to have been scared, y’know,” the elevator doors ding, and you step out, shaking your head, “no one expects you to be strong all the time, counselor.”

And you pause, looking back at him, “But I do,” you blink away the tears, “good night, detective.”

~~~

“It’s too risky!” you ignore Munch, continuing to fix your makeup, “You saw how you acted when Bradford lunged at you — why—”

“I would do anything to make sure these men get put away,” you finish your makeup, grabbing the outfit Liv had handed you, “and that includes this.”

This being an undercover operation designed to get names of victims, ages, and dates if possible, before arresting the group for exchanging pictures and videos of their crimes.

“Putting yourself in the middle of this chaos? You’re being reckless—”

You slide past him and into a bathroom stall, “I know what I’m doing,”

“Do you? Do you know how many things could go wrong?” he continues, “I could list them for you for posterity — assault, battery, rape, and let’s not forget murder—”

“I don’t think Liv will let me get murdered when she’s in the room with me, and I would you, Fin, Stabler, and the Captain wouldn’t either—”

“Things go wrong on these ops, counselor — the field isn’t as safe as a courtroom — court officers, a metal detector right outside—”

His words fail when the door swings open, a skin tight bodysuit clung to your figure, crimson, just as his ears nearly were, his eyes raking over your outfit, before finding their way back to your raised brows, “You were saying?”

He stumbles over his words, “I was saying that—” you cross your arms, waiting and he finds himself distracted all over again, before he shakes himself from his stupor, “I was saying that this is too dangerous—”

“Munch—” you cut him off, “I appreciate your concern, really I do, but I’m going to nail these guys anyway I can, so you can’t change my mind,” your hand finds his shoulder, squeezing, “but I can count on you to have my back right?”

He simmers, sighing, his eyes softening, “Of course,” and you squeeze his shoulder, and he calls after you as you head towards the squadroom, “I just hope they taught you taekwondo in law school,”

“And I hope you know by ‘having my back,’ I meant more than my ass,” you flash him a smile over your shoulder, shaking your head, and flexing your fingers.

It would be fine.

You would be fine.

~~~

It wasn’t fine. He couldn’t find you.

“Where is he? Where is that son of a bitch, he took—”

“Munch, calm down,” Liv starts, and he’s shaking his head, his finger in his face.

“You were supposed to watch them, you were supposed to—”

“Hey, Munch,” Elliot cuts between him and his partner, his hand on his shoulder, “we all were there, Bradford slipped out during the raid, there wasn’t anything we could do. We’re going to find them.”

Munch brushes him away, finding Fin, “Where are we on Bradford?”

“Got him sneaking out during the takedown,” Fin points you out in the crowd, “looks like he had a knife pressed against counselor’s back, just out of view.”

“How the hell did that scum sucking, gangrenous low life of a—”

“Looks like he stole it off one of his buddies he was setting up,” Fin rewinds the tape, and points it out, “lifts it right from his pocket.”

“Where does he go?” Fin fast forwards, until he gets to the cameras outside, shooting from the van itself.

“He steals a car down the street, must belong to that brownstone,” Fin shoves the equipment at another officer, “Let’s get the license plate and get a bolo out.”

Liv and Elliot join the two of them, handing a report to Fin, “We got a list of places that Bradford was known to hang out at—”

“What are we waiting for?” Munch brushes past them to the car, rounding the car to the driver’s seat, pulling it open, before Fin stops him.

“I’m driving,” Fin says, holding his hand, and Munch opens his mouth to rebut, “do we really have time to argue right now?”

Munch glares at him, before handing him the keys, “You better not abide by any traffic laws,”

“Do I ever?”

~~~

“Can we go any faster than this? I swear my great uncle could drive faster than this,” Munch expects his partner to be angry, but he’s only sighing and shaking his head, “what?”

And Fin side eyes him, “If you’re in love with—”

Munch gapes at him, “I’m not—”

“--then why don’t you just say something, man?” Fin scoffs, “you can deny it all you want, explain it away with one of your crazy ass conspiracy theories, but it’s there, John.”

Munch pulls off his glasses, running his hand over his face, fingers resting right below his nose, “You know every time I got married, I thought I was in love,”

“I know, and then your ex-wives screwed you — what about it?”

“This is different,” he sighs, “and I don’t want to admit that to myself.”

“What’s so bad about that, Munch? You want to try again,” and Munch is shaking his head.

“You know a psychiatrist once told me that the reason all my marriages failed was because I chose women who were spoiled, beautiful, and not my intellectual equal?”

“Meeting some of your ex-wives, I could believe that,” Fin’s eyes fall back to the road, “what’s your point?”

Your name slips from his lips, “this is different — this is someone’s who's my equal — smarter than me, beautiful— it could — we could be—” he cuts off, “I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose--” and he cuts off, sighing, “I don’t know.”

“Well that’s easy, John,” Fin pulls over, the car screeching as it does, “we won’t,” and he jerks his head, “whose car does that look like?” Munch calls in the car, unbuckling himself and slipping from the car, “We have to wait for back-up—”

“I’m not waiting—” before he adds, “you don’t have to come—”

“I’m not letting your bony ass get shot again,” Fin is already shutting the car door, pulling his gun out, “let’s go.”

~~~

“Are you scared now?” Bradford asks, circling you — a predator gauging its prey — no, he was simply playing with you now. Your wrists flex against your restraints, the wood grain of the chair digging into your skin the more you struggled, the rope around your wrists ungiving, “are you, counselor?”

It was rhetorical — judging by the tape stuck to your lips and the fact he continued to speak, and his fingers fist into your hair, pulling your head back, “Come on, no smart remarks now?”

Are you that stupid that you’ve forgotten that you taped my mouth over?

No, wait he was that stupid.

And he slaps you — the sting of his palm against your cheek dazes you a moment, and then his fist lands a blow in your stomach, choking on the same air you breathed, tears burning before slipping down your cheeks.

“Do you think this is bad?” and now he’s holding your face between his fingers, nails digging into your cheeks, and he grins, a shiver going down your spine, “just wait.” And he disappears a moment, his shadowy figure rifling through a bag on a table.

Your eyes darted around, looking for something that could help you, something to help you escape, but nothing was within reach. Your chest squeezed — what if you died here? What if you never saw your family again? What if you never saw your friends again? What if they never found your body? Fear claws up your throat, eyes burning.

What if they found your body?

What if Munch found your body?

You had promised him you’d be careful, but you were careless. You didn’t watch Bradford close enough, you didn’t stick with Liv, you were stupid — so stupid.

And you wondered if he’d rape you before he was done — if they would find your body like so many victims that came across your desk. You wondered if he’d kill you at all — or just let you live with the memories of his torture.

And you didn’t know what was worse.

But then something clatters in the distance, and his head is whipping around, there are footsteps, and he’s grabbing a knife, cutting your restraints free, “Come here bitch,” he mutters, hurrying to cut the ropes, at your feet before moving to the ones at your wrists, “they aren’t taking me before I get a chance to slit your throat.”

Blood roaring in your ears, you know you have to do something — he’s almost done cutting the last rope at your wrist. You couldn’t wait for help.

You rear your head back, before smashing it into his, hard. His groan gets caught in his throat, as you lunge for the knife, the handle within grasp of your fingers, and you’re trying to crawl away, a deep ache in your skull. You’re stumbling to your feet, but his fingers close around your ankle.

“I should have fucking killed you from the start,” and you kick him with your free foot, hearing him scream and the satisfying crack of his nose breaking, gripping the knife in your hand and pushing yourself to your feet.

And you rip the tape from your mouth, “Get the fuck away from me!” you point the knife at him, heart pounding against your ribcage, as he lays clutching his bloody nose.

But he’s still getting to his feet, “You better hand over that fucking knife—”

“You better not take another step before I blow your brains out,” and suddenly Fin and Munch are there, Fin stepping forward to arrest Bradford, as Munch is beside you.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” and he’s trying to ease the knife out of your fingers, but you won’t let go, “let go of the knife, it’s okay,” he’s murmuring in your ear, slipping the knife from your fingers, “you’re okay. I got you.”

Your knees are buckling, and he’s holding you, your head buried in his chest, “I thought he was going to—”

“I know,” he says softly, “I know, but you’re okay.”

“Because of you,” And he’s helping you up, and police sirens in the distance, as he helps you out of the building, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he whispers, “I’m sorry,”

“For what?” and his arm around you squeezes you gently.

“For not saving you sooner,” And suddenly EMS and police are flooding the scene, Fin is shoving Bradford into a car. And you spot him, glaring, but Munch steps between his view, his arm around your shoulders, “don’t bother with that scum. He’s not worth it.”

And he wasn’t — you knew he wasn’t, but you know that you wouldn’t be able to prosecute him now. But, you craned your neck to watch him be taken away, you wanted to see the bastard get put away at least.

It’s over, you tell yourself as you rest your head against Munch’s shoulder.

It was over.

~~~

“I just want to go home,” you shake your head, but he pulls you along regardless, protesting all the same.

“Just let them look at you, please?” he asks, “if only for my sanity.”

And you scoff softly, “I thought you lost that a long time ago,”

“There’s that wit,” he replies, and you go with him, fingers intertwined with his. E.M.S. examines you, insisting on taking you to the hospital for a possible concussion. But you don’t want to — you just want to sleep, you want to take a shower, you want to forget this ever happened—

“Please just let me go,” you’re pleading with him, tears slipping down your cheeks, “John, please let me go home.” and he’s wavering for a moment, before his hand is on your shoulder, gently pushing you back down.

“I can’t, and you know that, counselor,” he never wanted to see you cry like this, he never wanted to see you as a victim — because you aren’t just another victim at his desk or in photos spread across his desk — you were you.

But you were also a victim now.

“Why not?” you lie against the pillow in defeat, tears slipping down your cheeks, and he’s leaning down to your level, running his fingers through your hair.

“Because you’re hurt, and you need to be seen. I don’t trust doctors as much as the next conspiracy nut, but you still need to see one,” he tilts his head, “do you want me to come?”

And you’re blinking back tears, before nodding, “I’m sorry, I’m—”

“Don’t apologize,” he’s wiping your tears away, “don’t ever apologize for this.”

~~~

You don’t remember much else — it’s a blur of testing, until finally they let you sleep. And you don’t know how long you sleep. But you don’t dream, and for that much, you’re thankful. You awake to the low hum of hospital machinery, and quiet voices in the room. And you blink, the fluorescents much too bright for you, and your eyes flutter shut again, before not before voices creep in.

“—been asleep?”

“It’s been a few hours,” Munch whispers, assumedly trying to keep from waking you, but that was out of the question already, “docs gave something for sleep.”

“Have you said anything yet?” and it’s Fin asking.

“When? In between the ambulance ride here and the C.A.T. scan and the fifty other tests they ran?” Munch replies drily, sighing, “it’s not the right time,”

“You know there’s never going to be a right time, John,” and you’re grateful that you’re turned away from them, your brow furrowed, their voices growing louder, “you have to say something or is counselor a mind reader now?”

“Well—”

“Don’t spout another conspiracy theory or you’ll be the one in the hospital bed,” you could almost see Fin crossing his arms.

“You know that psychiatrist also told me I could make a conspiracy theory from a five-year-old’s lemonade stand,”

Fin raises an eyebrow, “Well now that I believe,”

“What am I supposed to say?” Munch asks, “‘hi, I know you almost just died, but I think I’m in love with you?’”

And your eyes snap open, the air sucked straight from your lungs — “It can be that simple,”

He was in love with you? John Munch was in love with you. Your heart squeezed at the thought — you hadn’t a clue that he was. You knew he cared — but you didn’t know he… loved you.

“Nothing is ever that simple,” and you turn around, the words leaving your lips without a thought.

“It can be, John,” and both him and Fin’s gazes snap to you, a small smile on your lips, “if you let it be.”

Munch is staring at you slack jawed, while Fin is grinning, elbowing him, “I’ll leave you two alone,” before he adds, “remember that there is an officer at the door—”

“Fin—” and he’s gone, disappearing out of the door, and Munch is wiping a hand down his face, his cheeks flushed red, “so how much of that—”

“All of it,” and he’s covering his hands with his face, “for someone who claims to be so evolved, you’re very cute when you’re embarrassed,”

“I’m cute?” he repeats, and you hold out your hand to him, and he’s staring a moment — as if he can’t believe it — before taking your hand, “how cute?”

You snort, “Just cute enough, don’t go getting an ego,”

“You’re sure it’s not just the concussion? And the almost dying?” and you roll your eyes, tugging him closer, by his coat’s lapel, and he’s whispering your name.

“How’s this for an answer?” and you kiss him — his lips barely brush yours a moment, but he’s already pulling you back in, parting and meeting until you hold him there a moment, fingers twisting in the hair resting on the small of his neck, “John—” you breath against his lips.

“I don’t understand why…” he whispers, your foreheads brushing.

“Why...?”

“I don’t understand why me,” his fingers cup your cheek gently, as if you’d disappear between his fingers, “you could be with anyone — why would you choose this paranoid, old detective?”

“Because it’s you,” you softly chuckle, and you draw your lips to his again, “and I wouldn’t want you any other way,” before you add, “except maybe sharing your feelings more so I don’t have to overhear any other conversations to know how you’re feeling.”

“I could say the same to you, counselor,”

“Excuse me, I said how I felt first,” you gape at him, in mock offense.

“Only after hearing how I felt,” but you shrug, smiling as your noses brush.

“Still, I was the first, so suck it,” you reply, and he laughs, a warm sound that makes your chest stir.

“Oh,” his lips brush yours, a smile on his lips, “I’m gonna suck something.”

#john munch #john munch x reader #john munch imagines #john munch fanfiction #svu imagines #svu #law and order: svu #what the fuck is this dkfsnjfn

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teddy06writes · 4 years ago

Note

sum angst for sapnap x quackity x karl x reader if requests are open, i dont remember if they are, and if u feel up to it

sapnap x karl x quackity x reader + sleepy bois x sibling!reader

trigger warnings: yelling, swearing, character death

this is an in game au so be aware of that

premise: you’ve been on the inside, spying on Shlatt for pogtopia, you thought you had had him convinced that the spy was Tubbo (Who knew just about nothing about pogtopia) but during the festival Shlatt asks you to make a speech... after the festival, things begin to fall apart

(y/n/n)- your nickname

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“And you’re sure about this? You’re positive that it’s him and not Quackity?” Shlatt asked.

The festival was in two days, Wilbur’s plan to blow Manburg was in place, and suddenly huge evidence of things you had berried was piling up. Your entire position as Pogopia’s spy was at risk.

“I’m positive Mr. President. I caught Tuboo poking around in some tunnels, trying to talk to TommyInnt just yesterday,” You lied straight through your teeth, “The log I found behind the files proves it.”

You held up the book, truly a work of your own notes, signed in you co workers hand.

Shlatt took it, quickly skimming through the pages, “Hmmm, this is significant evidence to condemn the kid. We’ll have to do something about.”

“Maybe we should exile him, like Wilbur and Tommy.” You suggested carefully.

He considered it for a moment, a wide jagged grin spreading across his face, “Or... we could execute him,” He seemed to take pleasure in your shock, “Publicly. We have been needing a slam finish for that festival.”

“Shlatt Tubbo is just a child!”

Shlatt glared down at you, “Sorry, what was that? It almost sounded like you were trying to go against the word of the president.”

The threat chilled you to the core, and you strained to stay calm, “With all due respect Mr. President, Tubbo is only 16, and there are other ways to deal with insurgents.”

“Insurgents? As in there's multiple now?” Alex strode into the room, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you breathed a slight sigh of relief.

“Yes, your partner here has just informed me that our dear Tubbo is a traitor,” Shlatt slammed the journal onto the desk, ignoring the glare Alex gave him when you jumped, “He’s been spying on Manburg for Pogtopia.”

Alex reached for the book, flipping to the last page and reading allowed, “If there is ever a time to strike, it would be during the Manburg festival, though it is worth noting Wilbur’s plan of destroying L’Manburg should be put off as long as possible.”

“When I caught them in the tunnels under the city, they were talking about tnt,” You said, the shake in your voice all too real, as forced tears began to prick in your eyes, “Wilbur’s going to blow it up.”

Shlatt looked at you clearly searching for something, but giving up once you fully began to cry, turning to burry your face in your boyfriends shoulder.

The president sighed, annoyed, “Get them outta here Quackity, I can’t work when there's fucking crying in my office.”

“It’s probably just the stress, sir. I’ll get them home.” Alex carefully led you out of the white house, and you were grateful, unknowing how much of the emotion was real or not.

“Oh god! Is (y/n) okay?” Karl asked as soon as Alex had gotten you to where he was decorating party island.

“Yeah, they’ll uh- they’ll be alright. Shlatt, Manburg, stress, you know?” He eased you down to sit on one of the benches, and quickly Karl moved to sit and wrap his arms around you.

“Hey, I’ve gotta get back to work. I’ll see you guys tonight.” Alex quickly pecked at your cheek, and then Karl’s lips before heading back in the direction of the white house.

“What happened?” Karl asked softly once he had gone.

You sniffled, leaning into his embrace, “Work’s stuff. The festival’s getting stressful.”

“Yeah, well I’m helping Tubbo with the last of the decorating tomorrow,” He paused, “You’re missing Wilbur and Tommy aren’t you?”

You nodded, “I miss them and Techno and Phil. I miss home.”

Your duties as a spy didn’t entail much seeing your brothers, just taking down notes of what was going on in Manburg and leaving them in a remote chest for Wilbur to collect later.

“We all miss home. But think about it this way, if you hadn’t come here, you wouldn’t’ve found me, or Alex, or Nick,” Karl said, looking out at the rest of Manburg, “We wouldn’t have this place without you or your brothers, and even Shlatt can’t change that.”

You smiled a bit at that, “Thanks Karl.”

“And! You don’t have to worry about decorations for the festival cause I’m helping Tubbo with it tomorrow!”

Though it was meant to cheer you up you felt your heart sink lower, he and Nick still didn’t know, and wouldn’t about what would be planned for the festival, but hopefully Alex would understand the burden.

“So why is there a festival?”

Nick had just arrived back in Manburg from a while’s stay in the SMP, and was very confused by the posters lining the streets.

“Shlatt wants to celebrate democracy, so he’s had Tubbo and I organize a festival.” You explained.

He cocked an eyebrow, “And what does Wilbur think of this?”

Nick was still the only one who’d found out about your allegiances to Pogtopia, only by mistake, when he’d caught you making the journey back from the cavern.

“Wilbur thinks it’s an opportunity,” You sighed, quickly scribbling down a new messege to the boys, “Techno think’s it’s a waste of time and energy, the anarchist energy’s been shining through more and more lately.”

“So who do you agree with?” He asked carefully.

“Neither, Wilbur’s gone manic, Techno is- well he’s Technoblade, and Tommy just goes along with what Wil says.” You tucked each note into an envelope, folding them between the pages of the newest set of notes.

You looked up to meet Nick’s eyes, “I’m worried about what Friday will bring. I’ve tried to throw Shlatt off my trail and it seems like it’s working I just-”

You broke off as Nick wrapped his arms around you, “Hey, it’ll be okay. And if he tries anything, I’ll be there to protect you,” He chuckled, “Hell, maybe it’ll be the only time your brothers and I agree.”

“Maybe.” You mumbled.

“Woah! Are you guys cuddling without us?” Karl feigned shock as he came into the living room with Alex.

“I would never!” You forced a laugh.

“(y/n), come on, we’ve gotta go get ready to meet Shlatt.” Alex nudged you.

You sighed, starting to snuggle back into Nick’s grip, wishing the small amount of morning calm would last, “Do we have too?”

“Yeah, you know he won’t be happy if we’re late.”

You looked at Karl and Nick, still mostly asleep, and then back at him, quietly admitting, “I’m scared today could change everything.”

He sighed, immediately shifting back down into be, “I suppose we could stay a bit longer.”

Slowly, the other boys woke up, but the room remained in silence, as if everyone could feel the coming tension, as if even moving would shatter the peace of the day.

Carefully, Karl broke the silence, “We’re gonna be okay guys. The festival is gonna be awesome. Wilbur wouldn’t do anything to ruin it for (y/n).”

“If what they found out is true, you guys could all be at risk.” Alex murmured.

Nick sighed, “I don’t care who’s bad side I get on, it’s gonna be anything to keep you all safe.”

Each of you heard a different meaning behind his words, but still none of you spoke.

“Whatever happens today, we’ll make it through, the country, may not.” You said, voice wavering, but still with a note of finality.

By midday the festival was in full swing, and surprising your older brother had actually shown up for the festivities.

“Strange seeing you here,” You laughed, nudging him, “A celebration of a government.”

“It’d be rude to turn down an invitation ta one a these,” He sighed, glancing around, “Where’s your boyfriends hanging around at, I haven’t threatened them yet today.”

You chuckled, “Q’s helping Shlatt with the last of the prep for the speeches. Sapnap’s supposedly trying to figure a way to cheat Fundy’s dunk tank and Karl’s over there.” You gestured to where he, Tubbo, Sam and Bad were running around at Party Island.

“mmm, hey, uh, your note the other day, you weren’t serious about framing the kid right?”

You sucked in a breath, tightening the grip on the sword at your side, “It was him or Al- Quackity, I couldn’t do that to him. Whatever they’re planning I’m going to stop them.”

Techno look back at the stage warily, “I’ll back you up if I can.”

Soon everyone was being called to take there seats in the audience as you, Tubbo, Alex, and Shlatt took to the stage.

“Well everyone!” Shlatt addressed the crowd, “Thank you for coming to this wonderful celebration of democracy! Things sure have gotten bet around here, I’m gonna give the mic to Tubbo, the main organizer of this event, for his speech.”

Tubbo grinned, shuffling his notecards as he took Shlatt’s spot in front of the microphone, “Hello everyone! I’m honestly so excited to be here right now!”

As Tubbo rambled on about Wilbur and Tommy’s banishment, you stood back, wishing you could’ve stood on the same side of the stage as Alex.

Looking out over the crowd gathered you tried not to let your gaze wander to Tommy and Wilbur, who you knew were perched on the top of a near by building.

“And uh yeah! To democracy!” Tubbo concluded.

You could almost here Alex chuckle as he started to turn to the chest on the side of the stage, ready to grab the materials to box the boy in.

“That was nice, hey, uh, (y/n), dear (y/n), my secretary of state, I uh, I hate to put you on the spot here, but uh, why don’t you come up and make a speech?” You blood ran cold at Shlatts words.

On the other side of the stage Alex froze as well, out in the crowd no one suspect anything, so you clasped your hands behind your back to hide the tremors and moved in front of the microphone.

“Well, uh hi guys! I honestly didn’t except to be up here making a speech today, so I’m not quite sure if this will even turn out coherent,” You laughed, out of the corner of your eye you noticed Tommy tensing, “I remember, soon after I followed my brothers to this land, we fought in a war. L’manburg’s war for independence was long and hard, and I often thought we would never see a better time, but standing here, it is very clear to me that this country has changed since the election.

“This country, since gaining it’s independence has changed my life, and it weighs on my heart that My L’manburg has a ruler such as Mr. JShlatt. We fought for this land, my brothers and I, and here we are today, with so much progress made! So, my friends, my colleges, here's to Our L’manburg!”

Everyone began to cheer, only to be cut off my Shlatt’s harsh laugh, “Oh, (y/n), it’s Manburg now remember? or did you forget while you were off conspiring with your brothers in Pogtopia?”

Tubbo pushed a still frozen Alex out of the way to grab the materials, beginning to box you in.

“S- shlatt?” You quickly turned on the emotion, turning frantically as they caged you in, “Shlatt what are you talking about?”

“Shlatt what the hell are you doing?” Alex asked.

“Oh, you didn't know? Your partners a traitor!” Shlatt laughed again.

Alex turned to you, now trapped between the throne and the mic stand, looking betrayed.

“I didn’t do anything! Shlatt! Please!” Though a few days before most of the emotion had been real, but now you were thankful for your acting skills, blubbering, “Alex! Alex look at me it wasn’t me! I didn’t do anything!”

Down in the stands Nick was halfway to standing, pushing Karl back down into his own seat.

“Or really? So that book wasn’t forged? That chest you used to pass messages? You tried to turn them against me!” Tubbo exclaimed.

“I didn’t- I- I would never betray my country!” You sobbed, forcing tears to leak from your eyes.

“Oh shut up,” Shlatt turned to the crowd, “Technoblade, front and center, get up here.”

Shakily Techno stood, quietly moving up to stand on the stage as Alex backed off the stage, looking between you and Shlatt with mixes of betrayal and shock.

“What uh, what you need me up here for Shlatt?”

“I want you to take care of them, make a public example.”

Techno coughed awkwardly, “You- you want me ta kill m’ sibling?”

“No!” You exclaimed, “Techno please...”

Shlatt glared at you, “Cut the crap (y/n)! We all know you aren’t actually this god damn emotional!”

Sapnap was fully in the isle now, sword drawn, and up on the roof You saw Wilbur clamping a hand over Tommy’s mouth to keep him to keep him from giving them away.

Sighing you wiped away the fake tears, “You have to admit, Shlatt, you believed me, you trusted me!”

Shlatt just rolled his eyes, “Techno get on it, snap too! I’ve got places to be.”

Techno slung his crossbow off his shoulder uncertainly, “(y/n)?”

All the fear from the morning came flooding back, but you shoved it down, leaning forward, to make eye contact with Shlatt, “You kill me now and nothing will change! This place will still go down hill and my brothers will still plot against you! All my secrets go down with me!”

“Shut your mouth and die already!”

Your nails dug into your palms, “Don’t make them watch Shlatt, have some mercy, if you want to kill me kill me, but don’t make my boys watch, don’t make Techno do it.”

“Get it over with!”

You leaned forward, gritting your teeth, “You heard the man, kill me.”

“(y/n), I can’t- you- yo- I-”

“Do it.” You hissed.

Time slowed, and Techno slowly raised the crossbow.

You looked out, past him, over the rolling fields of L’manburg, your home.

Niki out in the crowd wore a look of horror, hiding her face in Eret’s shoulder, who wore a simillar look for fear. Fundy wore a steely expression clearly close to breaking, Sam looked down right terrified, as Bad hid his eyes in his hands.

To your left Tubbo looked scared even though he’d put you in the cage, you were glad it was you and not him.

Shlatt wore his usual evil grin, pupil’s dilated.

Up on the roof, Tommy, your little brother looked horrified, Wilbur still holding him back with a neutral expression, Techno, now directly in front of you, was nearly in tears, your big brother, who swore to protect you, now being your end, it seemed almost poetic.

Behind him Nick was running up the isle, sword drawn, though you knew he’d be to late, Karl, lip quivering sat frozen, and Alex, his face still was filled with betrayal.

You looked up, took a deep breath and then time resumed, Techno pulled the trigger and everything went black.

{(y/n) went off with a bang}

It was cold.

Dark.

You didn’t now where you were as you drifted through a world you barley recognized.

Where was this?

How did you get there?

Vaguely you remembered a festival, your brothers, plus your boyfriends, oh how you loved them.

Your friends had been there too.

You looked back down to see L’manburg, ‘home!’ you thought happily.

You drifted towards your house, a voice in the back of your brain wondering, ‘why am I not walking?’

“What the fuck was that?” A loud voice cut through the air.

‘Nicky!’ you thought happily, following the sound.

“What the hell do you mean?”

‘Alex!’

You entered the room, finding them standing on opposite side, Karl, huddled in the corner.

“You are so fucking stupid! You know that? You let them die! They’re fucking dead because of you!”

“They were a fucking traitor! They got what was coming to them!”

“They loved you!” Nick screamed back, “They loved you and me and Karl, and their brothers! And now there gone! Because of You and Fucking Shlatt!”

What were they talking about?

“They fucking betrayed us! They betrayed Manburg! You saw the fucking acting they did! How do you know they ever loved us!”

From the corner Karl sobbed, and instinctively you moved to comfort him, but instead you passed right through.

‘what the hell?’

You had no time to dwell however because Nick shouted, “Etheir way you let them die! They’d be here if you’d interfered!”

“But I didn’t wooupdy do! They were a traitor!”

“They were trying to save their home!”

“WELL MAYBE THEY SHOULD’VE CONSIDERED THAT I WAS TRYING TO BUILD IT UP!”

“You and Shlatt never did anything but tare this place to the ground.” It was only a whisper, but Nick’s words sent Alex spinning on his heel and heading out the door.

“Fuck you! Fuck you! I am aware that my best isn’t good enough! So fuck you!”

The door slammed, and Nick only blinked a moment before Karl quietly asked, “Why did you do that?”

“What?”

“Now he’s gone too!”

Karl’s voice made your heart shatter.

“You think that’s my fault?! Clearly he didn’t give a shit about us, or them, other wise he would’ve stopped Shlatt.”

“They said we’d be okay! But we’re not!” Karl sobbed.

“I can fucking see that! God damn Karl! What did you except?”

“I-”

Before he could finish the door was slamming again.

Karl leaned back against the wall, staring straight through you whispering, “Why did you have to go (y/n/n)? You only just brought us together! We only just figured it out.”

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagines #sapnap x reader #karl jacobs x reader #quackity x reader #sapnap x karl x quackity x reader #teddy06 writes

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nmikaelsonimagines · 3 years ago

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I Did Something Bad, Part One: A Klaus Mikaelson Imagine

Last Taylor Swift one, I promise (well, at least for a while!) Hope this is okay for you guys, and enjoy x

Want to see more? Find the rest of the series just below:

I Did Something Bad

I never trust a narcissist, but they love me So I play 'em like a violin And I make it look oh-so-easy

If there was one thing you had learnt since Klaus Mikaelson arrived in New Orleans, it was that you were one Hell of an actor. Marcel didn’t have a clue that you had had a rather intense night of passion with the hybrid standing in the courtyard, the Original that would soon be chained up and beat to within an inch of his life.

As the younger vampire’s second-in-command, it would have been the greatest of betrayals if he ever found out the truth.

Last night had been one of heat, one of fire. Klaus Mikaelson was a narcissistic bastard, but last night, you had seen a different side of him. He did things for you that had you writhing beneath him, his lips working a different kind of magic, as if he were a musician, playing a different string with each movement.

There had been no love behind your actions last night, just predatory lust that was so easy to give into. You kissed him with the knowledge that the next day you would be helping to seal his doom, and as you watched now, watched him with his arms spread out, you couldn’t help but feel an ounce of guilt.

You stood back as you watched the rest of Marcel’s vampires attack.

'Cause for every lie I tell them, they tell me three This is how the world works Now all he thinks about is me

You weren’t supposed to fight, instead watching Marcel’s back as he stood with Rebekah, the desperation for Klaus to fail in his eyes. He had been the one to turn you, saving you from the deepest pits of Hell, and you had lied to him.

You had jumped into bed with the enemy, and hadn’t felt an ounce of regret about it.

Not when Klaus had smirked at you on his arrival to what used to be his house, not when you felt the hairs on your arms rise, not when you felt your blood boil, a reminder of the crimes you had committed as he had pressed his body against yours, whispered words of how he hadn’t stopped thinking about you during his time in New Orleans.

You hadn’t stopped thinking about him since.

The other vampires would listen to you if you chose to speak, you knew that. You could stop it all, but couldn’t explain why you wanted to, if you even wanted to. Last night with Klaus had been a onetime thing, and you had told yourself on multiple occasions that you hated him.

The chains were around his arms now, and you did nothing to stop it as Klaus was wrenched back, punches and kicks raining down on him. Marcel smiled at you.

You didn’t grin back.

I can feel the flames on my skin Crimson red paint on my lips If a man talks shit, then I owe him nothing I don't regret it one bit, 'cause he had it coming

Klaus’s head was hanging low, a sign of defeat that had a pit forming in your stomach. You could still feel the heat of him on your skin, the way he had made you feel. But you owed him nothing. One night together didn’t mean that you had to save him.

You didn’t believe for a moment that Marcel had won, not when Klaus looked up and looked at you. Blue eyes met yours and for a moment, you were taken back to the previous night where those eyes had searched yours as if they were searching for your soul.

You couldn’t help it as your lips pressed into a thin line and you made the most subtle of gestures that only Klaus noticed. He smiled, and then that blue changed into something else. Gold surrounded void-like pupils, crimson splattered on his skin.

This was no longer the Klaus Mikaelson that you had shared your bed with, no longer the arrogant egomaniac that had made you feel at your best all through the touch of his hand.

This was Klaus Mikaelson, the hybrid, the monster.

You felt no fear, only respect. For the first time, you considered that maybe Marcel was not your king.

Maybe your king was kneeling before you in chains.

They say I did something bad Then why's it feel so good? They say I did something bad But why's it feel so good?

Klaus pulled the chains from the wall, anger fuelling him. You still weren’t scared, not when he tore your fellow vampires apart, when he yelled at Marcel to finish what he had started.

You had done something terrible last night when you had slept with him, and you had done it again as you gave up the people who had been your friends to his power, making no move to stop him. It should have felt wrong to do so, to give up everything you had built to this animal in front of you, but it felt right.

Klaus had made you feel good last night, and as Marcel knelt before him, giving him the keys to the kingdom, you couldn’t help how satisfied he had made you feel again.

The courtyard was littered with bodies, more crimson on Klaus’s skin as those golden eyes faded back to a prominent blue. You should have felt guilty, suspecting that if you hadn’t nodded at him when he looked at you, Klaus wouldn’t have acted in such a manner.

But you felt nothing. Only that familiar respect as Klaus grinned, his gaze turning to you and a single suggestion falling from his lips.

It’s time for you to figure out where your loyalties lie, Y/N.

Most fun I ever had And I'd do it over and over and over again if I could It just felt so good, good

As Klaus walked past you, his shoulder brushed against yours and the memory of the previous night came to the front of your mind. You remembered his skin against yours, remembered how you had wanted to please him, for him to please you. You remembered how much fun he had been, how he made you feel appreciated.

Marcel had always appreciated you as his second, but never like that.

With Klaus, you had felt like an equal, and as he had told you all the things he had imagined you doing together, your time with him had felt like something out of a dream. Something supernatural.

And now, with the memory of his skin on yours, you turned and faced him, calling his name and making him stop in his tracks.

You knelt on the concrete tiles of the compound, of his castle, of his court. He didn’t say anything as he walked over to you and hooked a finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him. Klaus only smiled and as that pit began to form in your stomach once again, you knew that you had betrayed the people closest to you.

Betrayal was meant to feel terrible.

But pledging allegiance to Klaus Mikaelson felt beyond good.

Masterlist

#TVD #tvd imagine #tvd imagines #the vampire diaries #to #the originals #the originals imagine #the originals imagines #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson imagines #klaus mikaelson x reader #niklaus mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson imagines #niklaus mikaelson imagine #niklaus mikaelson x reader #Joseph Morgan

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honorhearted · 1 year ago

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Admittedly, Benjamin was amused by how quickly this was playing in his favor. Whenever he expressed true sentiment towards the fairer sex, he was often awkward and tongue-tied, but somehow, this fabricated alias lent him precisely the amount of confidence he needed to be suave and, dare he think it, appealing to womenfolk.

Judith extended an invitation of tea -- something that wasn't exactly welcomed in patriotic households -- and suppressing a snort, Benjamin agreed, "I would be honored, madam. There is no place I'd rather be on this earth."

Elena practically curled into his flank then, startling him with her wide, ethereal eyes as she posed her own question. She was truly a marvel, he thought -- natural-born talent that would put even the renowned actress Sarah Siddons to shame.

Mirroring her smile, he promised, "I'm never too busy for you, Miss Gilbert. First and foremost, my allegiance is towards your family and our illustrious Cause. Whatever you need, it shall be done."

Judith waved her paper fan with increased verve. "You are of a loyalist devotion, Mr. Bolton?"

"Is there any other kind worthy of pursuit?" Chuckling, Benjamin replied, "Last month alone, I donated five vessels from my shipbuilding business to General Tryon and his men. In the following months, I hope to double my generosity."

"Oh! Oh, my," Judith purred. "Well, that is very gracious, indeed, sir! I imagine that cost a pretty penny."

"No expense is too great for our king," Benjamin replied. The words coated his tongue like tar, yet he managed to remain bright-eyed and enthusiastic.

Judith's next offer was...surprising. If this woman truly did suspect he and Elena were interested in one another, why did she seem intent on spiraling them into potential scandal? Not once had a chaperone been mentioned, and glancing down at Elena, a slight pink flooded his face as he offered what he hoped to be a charming smile.

"Madam, it would be my highest honor to stay here," he agreed. "At the risk of being improper, I would like to speak with your husband, as well. My heart has been irrevocably ensnared, so it seems only right to ask the general's permission to court your niece." He drew a hand over his heart. "And with any luck, I'll be able to aid your family in this fight against those unruly, senseless rebels and restore order to our streets. Surely, our resources combined will do irreparable harm to our enemies."

elena's light hues observe like a playgoer as her aunt fawns and mr. bolton takes her hand in greeting. captain smallwood was forgotten to her aunt now, though she imagined it would not be quite so easy to be rid of him. he remained staying at the estate for the time being, at least until her uncle received a change of orders from howe and he went with him. her uncle might resist and she held no doubt smallwood might double is horrid efforts, but her aunt? she was thoroughly charmed. such would go a long way toward convincing her uncle. oh, yes. yes, benjamin tallmadge had been the ideal choice for this. perhaps he had been the perfect choice for this.

indeed i do. he states beside her, elena allowing a smile which looked an awful lot like the beginnings of a smirk to cross her features. and why should it not? was she not expected to have reeled him in like some prize? certainly her aunt believed so. and certainly everyone else knew elena always got what she wanted. they expected a certain confidence from her and she would grant it.

"i must admit i was taken rather by surprise by mr. bolton." truth laced into a lie. it made an honest air easier to present. "i confess i have been rather selfish and wanted to keep him all to myself." she looks upon him, her gaze lingering as he looks upon her aunt in what elena thinks exudes a kind of longing affection. she intends to bring her attention back toward her aunt, until benjamin meets her gaze and it is her turn to be taken aback by his look of adoration. perhaps she should look away shyly, heat raising to her cheeks, and yet, elena can not. almost as if this is suddenly some strange kind of playful challenge in the game of a pretend courtship. in a play presented for all to see. she rather thinks it helps their cause if they have trouble keeping their eyes off one another even if it is all for show and it brings a victorious smile to her features. this ruse of theirs was already exceeding her expectations. and if her look lingered a moment too long as attention fell back upon her aunt it served one purpose toward those watching. to tell them all this rich and successful mr. bolton had been accepted by her and as such could be accepted by them. that their invites to her could now perhaps include him. opening doors, she thinks.

she finally does look away, watches as her aunt inquires about his career and she listens intently for she does not know what this cover story of his was though she grins approvingly. she thinks her perhaps her uncle would rather someone with a clear direction. perhaps that is why he liked smallwood so much, the captain's clear seeming devotion to the british cause, to rise within the ranks of the military. yet this man's wealth and business sense could not be denied if he held multiple successful endeavors. elena has to bite back her expression, managing, but barely upon his comment about flaunting wealth. perhaps it makes her a hypocrite considering the finery she is surrounded with, that she too is set to present herself with. but so much of such is a show of following the motions of her family's direction. oh elena had always had some level of wealth in her life, or at least her family had. but her parents had never sought to present it above others and there was a difference between enjoying what one hand and lording it over others. they gave much of it to aid causes, to aid their community. she had perhaps more dresses than some others she had known but she had always mended her own clothes back home. home had been a very different world to this and her aunt had seemed to fall into it with an ease over her years with the sir maxwell and elena thought her father would not have approved of it.

somewhere about the room, captain smallwood has moved across the space, to speak with the general as others do their best to continue on with their conversations, gazes drifting toward them on occasion. oh yes, the gossip has begun. elena watches with a kind of fascination, an innocent smile granted to her uncle when he catches her sight and a kind of satisfaction in her gaze when her ocean hues land upon the captain and he looks upon her with a clear frustration and.. something else. and it strikes her that she almost feels like helen of troy. she merely hoped she only embodied her beauty and not her doom as her eyes fell back to her aunt's determined gaze.

'if it is agreeable to you we should have you to tea tomorrow? once your day's business affairs are dealt with of course. we should not allow our dear elena to distract you from such profitable endeavors.' her tone is light and at ease, less flustered now and focused upon gaining his agreement to come to the estate. "you are not too busy are you mr. bolton?" elena questions, allowing a certain innocent hopefulness to present in her tone and expression as she lightly touches his clothed arm. her aunt seems to approve. "i should hate to keep you from your work yet i confess i would be rather glad to enjoy your company." her aunt seems to get some sort of idea then. 'let me further extend an invitation, mr. bolton. if you desire lodgings above an inn--" lodgings more to his station her aunt means. "--due to your prolonged stay in the city, the estate is open to you as long as we are here. there is plenty of room. after all captain smallwood stays here as well.' elena is sure if she had been drinking something she would have choked on it, instead, her delicate fingers tightens their hold, her dropping it a moment later to not seem improper.

#angelicgilbert #fairweather friends #long post tw

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spidernerdsblog · 4 years ago

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Match made in Hell : Chapter Three

A/N : Chapter three is here. Survival of the fittest this is how life evolved on earth. And to survive you have to learn to adapt even if you have to make truce with people you hate. Hope you like this chapter. Let me know what you think.

A Happy New year to all of you lovely peeps! 💖💖

Pairing : Mob! Tom Holland x Reader

Summary : you always wanted a simple life but to be born as the daughter of a dangerous mobster turned out to be a curse for you. Everything changes when your father gets your lover killed and forcefully marries you off to another mobster as a part of a deal. You hate your father and your husband the only thing you seek is now revenge. Will you ever be able to fall in love again or this burning hatred inside you will consume you?

Warnings : 18+,mature content, a little PMS drama, language, flashbacks in italics, slight nudity, suggestive themes.

Mini Playlist : Bad Things by Meiko

SERIES MASTERLIST

Complying to the note you take a quick scan of the room ensuring that you’re not being followed by anyone before making your way to the restrooms but instead of going inside you sidetracked to your left and stride your way to the staff exit door across the hall and sneaked outside continuing to walk down the dark alley. You stop when you see a large figure standing in the dark a few feet away from you.

"Y/N" the man speaks with a deep voice.

"Who are you?" You demand. The man walks out of the shadow and your face lit up as you saw his face illuminated by the street light.

"William? Oh my god!" You rush to embrace him. William Marshal, your father's most trusted wing man and your mentor. All the knowledge you have raptured be it hand to hand to combat or gun fight he taught you all.

"How are you my little tigress?"

"Surviving" You say with a small smile. "But what are you doing here?" You were so surprised as well as happy to see him.

"Your father sent me here."

Your brows draw into a frown ''Daddy sent you?...But why?"

"You are alone and boss thinks it's a little dangerous to leave you in the enemy territory on your own"

You scoff. "Huh, since when did he start worrying about my safety?"

"He wants me to help you with your task, so how much progress have you made?" He asks.

"Actually William there has been some changes in the plan” You say. “I’m no more playing daddy’s little killing puppet"

William gives you shocked look. "What, are you planning to backstab your father?"

''Not literally stab him though I wish I could heh. But I'm gonna make him pay for his crimes by turning him in and then let the law decide his punishment."

"You want to go on a legal battle with the king of illegal trades?” He chuckles lightly at your childish idea. “You're bluffing right?"

"I'm not bluffing Will. I just want to deliver justice to all the people who have suffered for him without anymore bloodshed. And I’m not ruthless like him and at the end of the day he's still my daddy so even if I want I will never be able to kill him" You sigh with remorse.

"It's a suicide mission Y/N, you can't win against him, not alone"

"Well Rome wasn't built in one day, Will. Plus I have you."

His face went stoic. "I can't betray your father Y/N."

"Will, how could you forget that this man killed your whole family? He didn't even spare your five year old daughter. Don't you want revenge?" You tried your best to persuade him.

"That man died when he accepted his allegiance."

"Then here's your another chance to avenge your family. Are you going to help me or not?" You ask him firmly.

"You know I have always seen you no less than my daughter" He reaches out a hand cupping the side of your face "so what does my daughter want me to do?"

The corner of lips turn up into a smile. "Nothing much for now I just want you to pose as a double agent, provide me all the information and report back to daddy whatever I exactly say to you" You explained.

William nods in agreement to your plan. "So have the Holland's agreed to this?"

"Holland's?" You frown. "Why on earth would I involve them? They are no less evil."

"You are plotting against your dad the mafia kingpin and you need allies Y/N."

"I don't need any allies…" You pause mid sentence as it finally hits you what Will was actually trying to imply. You narrowed your eyes with a sly smirk "Unless I rat them out against each other and they end up destroying each other in the process without anyone suspecting it was me behind all this. Like this I can hit two birds with one stone"

"Well now you're getting it." William says proudly.

"By the way boss told me to give you this." He holds out a revolver, you stiffen at it’s sight.

"That's my gun" You swallow hard.

"Yes indeed it is."

"I can't take it Will and you know why" You say anxiously.

"I know that the past haunts you Y/N but that phase is over. You have to let go" He takes your hand and places the gun. "Keep it, you'll need it" Your palms were sweaty as you gripped on to the gun and looked at it intently.

"I think you should go back now before your husband gets suspicious and remember.."

You cut him off before he could finish.

"To be nice and call in a truce. Trust me I got this." You winked with a sly grin and rushed back to the hall through the backdoor but you are met with an obstacle. Tom was standing right in front of the restrooms, you quickly retreated behind the wall.

"Shit! Why are men so clingy?!" You groan with slight irritation when your phone lights up

T : Hey you okay? You're in for too long.

T : Y/N???!!

You roll your eyes as you text him back.

Y : No I'm not okay!!!

Concern clouded his features whilst he texted you back.

T : Hey what's wrong?

T : Darling, you alright?

You couldn't think of any valid reason to get past him so you had to swallow your pride and texted back with the most safest and believable excuse for a woman.

Y : I'm PMSing!!! T : ….OK.

You peered to see his reaction and you swear you would have burst out laughing if you weren’t in such a sophisticated place, the look on his face clearly showed how weirded out he was.

Tom on the other hand was clueless about what to reply next, since a young age he has been dealing with the most dangerous people from the underworld but never in his life he had to deal with someone pmsing specifically he never had to deal with you. Though he had a little knowledge about these things thanks to sex ed at high school. You saw him take a deep breath before typing.

T: You need something?

Y: Yeah, will a tampon be too much to ask?

Y: It's kind of urgent.

T: Right on it. Just stay there. It will be fine, love.

T: Do you need a change of dress?

To be honest you were quite taken aback seeing this concerned and understanding side of his.

Y: No, I'm fine. And please don't come barging in the ladies room.

T: Yeah I know that.

As soon as Tom moves away you quickly slip inside the restroom and heaved a sigh of relief. After a few minutes a middle aged woman walks in the restroom.

"You must be Y/N?" She asks with a smile.

"Yeah." You nod.

"Here you go, love." She hands you a tampon. You take it and go inside a stall. You wait for a few minutes before throwing the tampon in the dustbin and emerging out of the stall with a smile.

"Thank you so much." You say smoothening the slight creases on your dress.

"Oh don't be but I must say your husband really loves you. You should have looked at his face how freaked out he was."

"I really doubt the love part.'' You snicker, turning on the faucet in the basin to wash your hands.

"Well darling, here’s an advice from a lady to a lady keep your man happy and satisfied and then not only will he be showering you with all his love as well as—" She coils her thick glimmering diamond necklace around her slim finger "might get these too."

"Well thank you for your advice but not a fan of leashes you see." You quip drying your hands with the paper towels.

"Trust me sweetie one day you will just want to wear these leashes only for your man." She steps closer putting a hand on your shoulder.

"Will see." You give a tight lipped smile.

After sometime you step out and find Tom patiently waiting for you.

"All good?" He asks, you nod in affirmation.

"It was lovely talking to you sweetheart. See you again." The woman chirps, you smiled waving at her.

Bad Things starts playing……. I know what I want And I'll get what I need I'll come over and I'll show you how Don't you wish that you can have me now?

"Shall we have this dance?" Tom held out his hand. You take it with a smile as he leads you to the center of the room. Your hands go to his shoulders while his hands rest on your hips. You slowly begin to sway your bodies to the music going back and forth, your eyes looking around to the other couples dancing.

You say that you want all of my love But let's be honest we don't need all that I like it better with no strings attached

"You're welcome." Tom says, drawing your attention back to him.

"Uhh..." You look at him in confusion.

"I guess the words that you are looking for are thank you."

"To be fair it was kind of your duty to help your wife from an embarrassing situation." You quip.

"Oh now I'm your husband, huh?" He raises his eyebrows amused.

Good girls do bad things sometimes But we get by with it Good girls do bad things sometimes But we get by with it

"Well you have been rubbing the fact on my face since day one so—" You half shrug.

"So what was Mrs. Sinclaire saying?" He asks looking around the room.

"Nothing of my interest just how I should get one of those shining collars around my neck." You roll your eyes dramatically.

"Those are gifts from their husbands who love them dearly, love" He corrects you, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

How much more can you take if I give you a taste I've been waiting for you all night long I come around and then I'm gone

"But for me those are glittering leashes" You retort.

"Darling, how much ever you pretend but under this tough shell you're just a hopeless romantic, you crave love and I can give you all of it only if you allow me." Tom laces his hand with yours another hand stays at the small of your back, waltzing to the music.

You'll get yours, I'll get mine Then we run out of time You're the only one that I desire 'Cause I love to play with fire

"Maybe I'm that's why I still dream of a beautiful life away from all this from you" you say looking deep into his brown orbs.

He leans down to your ear and whispers. "I can assure you one thing princess the farther you want to go away from me the more I will pull you back towards me"

A shiver runs down your spine as his smile turns into a wide grin.

Good girls do bad things sometimes But we get by with it Good girls do bad things sometimes But we get by with it

His hand moved from your back to your lower waist and he dipped you low, taking you by surprise. You bent on your back as he pulled you back up with a force, throwing you against his body sending your body right into his broad frame.

Ooh (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh) Ooh (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh) When I'm down I let you know (ooh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh) When I'm down I let you go (ooh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)

You stayed like that for a while, inhaling deeply but the only thing you could smell was him, his expensive cologne intoxicating your senses and then he pushed you back again, spinning you around twice and settling back for the previous slow pace.

Good girls do bad things sometimes But we get by with it Good girls do bad things sometimes But we get by with it (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)

The night ends and you are now back at home sitting on your bed busy with your night routine rubbing on some body lotion on your hands as Tom walks in.

"What are you doing in my room?" You frown.

"Technically this is my room" He reminds you rummaging through his closet.

"Not anymore." You state haughtily. He plainly ignores you and goes inside the bathroom.

After a while he comes out with a towel wrapped lowly around his waist, his wet curls sticking to his forehead. You couldn’t help but admire his chiseled upper body, muscles rippling and glistening in the soft golden light of the room.

"You’re staring" He sing-songs, smirking cockily.

"No-no, I'm not'' You fumble.

"It's ok, darling I'm all yours to look at" You roll your eyes meanwhile he takes off his towel and throws it in the hamper before getting on the empty side of the bed just in his black calvin klein boxers.

"Whoa, you are gonna just wear that?" You ask in surprise.

"Why you gotta problem?" He smirks while getting inside the covers.

"No seriously, you’re either fully covered or almost naked. Nothing in between." You remark giving him an annoyed look.

"Why does it turn you on babygirl?" He says with a sultry voice.

"Shut up and stop with these weirdass names, will ya" You grimace as he chuckles.

"And what about you? You are going to sleep in that?" He points out looking at your sleep shorts and a loose shirt.

"Well you may think of yourself as a calvin klein's model but I ain't a Victoria’s secret angel. So yes I’m gonna sleep in these"

"But your Instagram says something else" He quips, making you smile mischievously.

"Aww did someone get all riled up at work?” You click your tongue pouting “so sad."

Tom all of a sudden grabs your arm pulling you down to him as you jolt down surprised.

"And for that you deserve a nice spanking" His voice low, a cocky grin plastered on his face.

"If you touch me I'll chop off your hands." You threaten with a cold stare and pull out your arm from his grip. You lay down turning to your side and snatched away the covers from him.

"Oi! blanket hogger!" He protests, pulling the blanket back.

"Get out of here!" You kicked his leg playfully snatching the cover again.

"Y/N I swear to God I’ll push you off the bed!" He says laughing.

"Shut up you whiny baby." You retort laughing as well.

He moves closer to you bringing his hands to tickle you on the side of your hips. You squealed trying to push him away but he tightened his hold around you both laughing like kids when suddenly you realized how close you were the heat from his bare body felt like burning against your skin.

What are you doing? You hate this guy, he is the reason Ethan is dead. You remind yourself gaining back your composure and stopped laughing. You went silent closing your eyes as Tom got the hint and backed off.

You soon fell asleep breathing softly but Tom was still awake staring at the ceiling thinking about all the meetings and deals he has to make tomorrow when you shifted on the bed and turned to Tom’s side in your sleep. You subconsciously hiked a leg above his placing your hand over his chest snuggling close to him.

Tom found it really amusing chuckling softly as he took his time to admire how beautiful and innocent you looked. He went to wrap his arm around you just then he heard you mumbling in your sleep.

"I'm sorry - I'm so sorry Ethan." His expression goes hard. He retracts his hand away placing it under his head and lets out an exasperated sigh before closing his eyes to sleep.

Next morning you squint your eyes open to find yourself practically laying over Tom's chest, you sit up hastily waking him up in the process.

"Good morning, princess." He says with a groggy voice. You look at him timidly.

"By the drool I’m assuming you slept well." You frown rubbing the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand.

"So much for chopping my hands eh?" He snickers. "But what about you taking advantage of me while sleeping." you felt your face heat up in embarrassment.

"Sorry I used to have a side pillow when I slept."

"Oh it's ok, love. I'm honored to be your human side pillow.'' he says cockily before getting off the bed to get ready for the day.

"Dickhead" You mutter under your breath.

****

You went to punch his chest, but William blocked it

"As a devout feminist, I refuse to say that you hit like a girl." William quipped letting go of you, and you spin around in frustration

"Let's try this again, shall we?"

"Tell me again why I have to learn self defense this early in the morning."

William began to roll up his sleeves to better move around "You are my responsibility."

You smiled "...says the feminist." William chuckled.

"Fighting is rhythm. There is a music, there is a meter, there is a pattern. Let that rhythm beat within you." He stood defensively and nods at you.

"Again." you put up your fists and start to fight him, but he easily blocks your blows. You two spin and continued practicing. You struck him again but he blocks it.

"Legato" You strike again with increased force,

"Ostinato" You strike back with all your force.

"Crescendo" You managed to hit him, but he blocked the majority of it and held you by your neck.

"And then, once you've established your cadence--" You spun out of his grip, kicking him, and pressed him against the wall while he's distracted.

" --You change the key." you said smiling proudly.

"Very nice." He said a little out of breath. "But none of this matters if you cannot make the kill."

"But I don't want to kill anyone."

"You will. To survive" He said.

You stepped back to catch your breath from the intense workout.

"Now c’mon we will learn something new today." He brought two wooden staff and throws one at you out of the blue which you barely catch.

"Hey! I wasn't ready!" You protested.

"First lesson-- always be on your guard." He instructed. You took note of the weight of the staff in your hands for a moment.

"It's heavy."

"I was half your age the first time my father gave me the staff. I would have torn every muscle rather than let him see me strain. And, had I--" He attacked you, you barely blocked his blow "-- he would have corrected me."

"No offense, but your dad sounds like a jerkwad" You panted.

"Mothers love their children. Fathers make them strong" He attacked you again, and though you struggle to keep up, you manage to continue blocking him.

"Well in my case my daddy doesn't care 'cause he already kind of bidded me off in a stupid deal--" You started to fight back "-- and my mother is quite ardent to make me strong enough to face anything what is to come my way" You grunt while attacking but William easily dodges your strikes.

"You're anticipating. Do not let me see your move before you make it." He strikes at your staff, knocking you off-balance and causing you to twist your ankle as you fall and whimper in pain

"Get up." He commanded.

"I can't, my ankle hurts." You groaned.

"The ability to end your pain is a warrior's true weapon. Master that, and nothing holds power over you." You glared at him.

"Now, on your feet." You winced.

"I said, On. Your. Feet." He barked.

You continued to glare at him, but do grab your staff to use it to help you to pull yourself up on your feet. You leaned against the staff for support. William looked mildly impressed.

"Good. Perhaps you've actually learned something today."

It’s been almost two weeks since the gala night William has been in contact with you providing you with valuable information. You were lost in your thoughts when your phone buzzed and you were broken out of your daze. It was William, you received the call.

"Hey Will!"

"Got some news."

"Seems like Victor has grabbed quite a hold in the European drug cartel. He has been making quite some big deals."

"Daddy is making deals with the European drug mafias?" You were surprised at this news. "But how is that possible? As much I know he planned to oust the Hollands off their turf first before taking over their business."

"Working with your dad I have learnt one thing about him, ‘compartmentalization’ nobody gets to know about his real plans. And that is the reason behind his success."

"I think I know someone who might give me more info on that. But the most important question is who is doing all the dirty work for him while he is sitting in NY."

"A new gang has emerged in the city ‘the vipers’ but I’m surprised that the Holland’s didn’t happen to come across them yet." He says before ending the call.

Meanwhile Tom was at the docks of the London port accompanied by his brother Harry for a meeting with an old time ally.

"Gomez, after a long time mate."

"Yeah Holland business has been a little rough these days"

"So my brother tells me that you wanted some negotiations to be done with the current revenue arrangement of the port area"

"Yes Holland about that you see you're charging an outrageously high protection money and for that I am having very little profit from my drug trafficking business"

"Well mate protecting you from the cops and allowing you to smuggle through my port comes with a high price I told you at the beginning only." Tom says.

"Then I might have to rethink our alliance, Holland."

"You mean you want to call off the deal?" Tom raises his eyebrows.

"Yes you guessed it right"

"That's really brave of you given that the narcotics are already suspicious about your activities" Tom mocks with a sinister look in his eyes.

"I'll take my chances and there's this new gang who are ready to provide protection at a much cheaper rate plus they are going to help me expand my trade to the States. And profit has always been my first priority mate." Gomez states.

"Well whatever suits you mate but the port is still under my control if I may remind you so perhaps you should start watching your back" Tom advises, malice in his voice and then he storms out of the place.

****

You have finally decided to have a night out and blow off some steam. You dressed up in a slip dress and put on your matching stilettos. Booking yourself an uber you were just about to go down the stairs when you heard some heated argument coming from the office though it was mostly Tom’s voice you heard and by the tone you deduced he was very angry.

You slowly made your way towards the room to see Tom standing in the middle of the room with Harrison and Harry beside him, his men surrounding him as he yells at them. They were so engrossed into the meeting that nobody bothered to notice you standing so you quietly lean against the doorframe and listened to their conversation.

"I'm paying a bunch of assholes for nothing!" Tom barks.

"Tom, calm down." Harry goes to tone down his brother.

"How can I calm down?! Some bloody newbie gang has been operating right under my nose! on my turf! and I have no news about that." He snaps.

You couldn’t help but the whole conversation made you chuckle a little too loudly drawing everyone’s attention present in the room. Tom was already seeing red with his business going into jeopardy and seeing you laugh like that he went ballistic.

"Does something here appear funny to you?" He glares at you.

"Well funny things do." You retort.

"And may I have the pleasure of knowing what you found so funny?"

"Well seeing you guys all worked up about this whole new emerging gang snatching away your territory. I really feel pity for you."

"Thank you for your pity now you may leave, anyways women are not allowed here. I should not see you snooping around in the future near this room." He orders.

"Your loss I might know something that could have helped you in solving your little problem." You shrug and turn to leave.

"Wait! What do you mean?"

"Well I guess women don’t do business here so I better keep my mouth shut." You taunt agitating him even more.

"Stop fucking with me Y/N! If you know something then tell me." You pucker your face pretending to think.

"Please" he adds softening down a bit, you sigh audibly.

"Ok then let me give you a heads up. The viper gang which is hampering your business deals is owned by none other than Victor Martinez aka my daddy dearest." Tom's eyes went wide as well as Harrison's and Harry's.

"What! You’re kidding right?" You scrunch your nose shaking your head sideways dismissively.

"But-but we had a deal!" He was still in disbelief.

"Honey you made a deal with the devil. What did you expect?" Tom crosses the room in three strides and grabs hold your arm with a death grip anger raging in his eyes.

"Leave my hand, Tom! You’re hurting me!" You struggle twisting your arm. He slightly loosens his grip but still holds on to you.

"What more do you know? What have you father-daughter planned behind this whole wedding facade?!" He spat gritting through his teeth.

"Hey don't go all out on me! I myself didn't know about this until today. He never told me about this secret gang."

He scoffs, raising his eyebrows. "And you want me to believe that?"

"It’s up to you if you want to believe or not but if I would be plotting against you why would I even care to tell you all this?" You pull your hand away "--and this growing hatred inside you I have thousands of times more of that hatred inside me for him" you seethe.

"Then what was the meaning of the whole deal?"

"Well he wanted me to lure you and trick you into writing everything you own including your business to my name and then kill you." Tom is left speechless with your revelation.

"What? Feel the bitter taste of betrayal?" You smirk. "Now you’ll understand what I felt."

"Okay then you guys have fun working out your plan on going against your new enemy while I enjoy my night with some music and drinks." You chirp enthusiastically.

"Now where are you going so late?" Tom sounded tired.

"None of your business"

"Anthony, Michael go with her" He orders two of his men.

"No need, my uber is already waiting outside" saying so you left.

Reaching the club you order some drinks for yourself. You sit on the seat near the counter enjoying the ambience as the bartender hands you a martini. Though it wasn’t like the rave parties you had in NY but you really felt relaxed finally out by yourself after being trapped in that house for two weeks after your wedding which felt like ages.

"You're Y/N right?" You look up to your side to find the red head girl from yesterday.

"And you're the hooker" You quip and she chuckles.

"Yeah I am, it's Sandy by the way." She takes seat beside you. "So where’s your husband?"

"Probably still shouting at his men." You shrug, taking a sip of your drink.

"Not to be prying but what's the deal between you two? It looks like you hate each other's guts"

"Don’t know about him but I definitely do, perhaps after tonight he might start hating me too."

"Then why the hell did you get married?"

"Well honey things don't work like that in the mob. A wedding is just a strategic alliance between two families for their own mutual benefits. We just serve as scapegoats, our fates were sealed together the day we were born" You explain.

"Well that’s some really messed up shit" She sympathizes.

"I know."

"But you can still work it out. You know he isn’t that bad, at least not in bed" She grins cheekily.

"Okay I didn’t need to know that" You chuckle sarcastically.

"You’re really missing a good dick girl, that you can have any time you want and all your life."

"Do I look like a nymphomaniac?’’ You laugh ‘‘-and no doubt he is a dick. He is the reason my innocent boyfriend is dead, I’m stuck here in this stupid marriage and instead of apologizing what does he do? He brings in girls, acting like a slut" You rant.

"You're bothered aren't you?"

"No, why would I be bothered with whom he sleeps?" You stand up from your seat stumbling a little already feeling tipsy.

"-- you know what I'm gonna enjoy today, get drunk and dance my sorrows away." "Everyone in the house tonight’s drinks are on me! Enjoy the free booze!" You screamed. The whole crowd whooped and whistled.

"To my fucked up life!" You shouted, downing a shot.

You made your way to the center of the dance floor and started dancing without any worry about tomorrow. Within seconds you felt two hands around your hips, you turn your head to find a cute boy probably of your age as you continued to dance and grind against him. After a couple of songs you went back to the counter and had some more drinks. You were totally wasted as your vision went blurry and pretty soon everything blacked out.

It feels like a struggle for you to open your eyes as you stir inside the covers. Huh? You squint your eyes open and realize you were actually lying in a bed. You slowly sat up, your head was pounding with last night’s hangover as you groaned holding your head. Your eyes slowly adjusts to your surroundings and you realize that you were indeed back home and in your bedroom. You look down at your body and were shocked to find yourself in just your black strapless bra and underwear.

"You’re up at last." You hurriedly pull the covers up to your chest hearing Tom’s voice.

He walks in a pair of grey sweatpants and a tightly fitted black t-shirt, his biceps bulging out of it. It was really odd to see him in such an informal attire but he looks good, you slapped yourself internally for the last thought.

"What happened last night? How did I get here? And where are my clothes?!" You badgered him with questions.

"Woah slow down, that's a lot of questions at one go and you should be the first one explaining about your reckless behavior last night."

"Why, what did I do?" You frown.

"Oh you really went wild last night. For starters you danced with random blokes and then you drank more and got wasted. And then you took off your dress whilst those drunk bastards did body shots." Your mouth falls agape in shock.

"Wait what? I took off my dress in public?!" You were still in disbelief.

"Yeah and that’s not all” He says with a scoff “You let those twats lick salt and lemon off your body while they did shots. Thanks to Sandy who informed me on time." You rolled your eyes looking away.

"After seeing you being used for body shots things got a little nasty out there and they had to close early."

"What did you do?" You ask anxiously.

"That any man would do seeing his wife being touched by other men." He growls the last bit.

"What do you mean?"

"I made sure they will be in the hospital for a good couple of months." He states rather proudly.

You slap your forehead shaking your head in annoyance. You didn't realize that you had let go off the sheets covering your body giving Tom quite a view which he had missed the other day.

He slowly leans forward, eyeing you up and down lustfully prompting you to back off until your back touched the head board. He crawls towards you further hovering over you reaching his hand out to cup your face.

"You really upset me yesterday Y/N." His voice low as his hand brushes your hair from your shoulder and travels downs to your chest fingertips gently brushing over your rib cage down to the valley of your breasts slightly tugging to the soft material of your bra. You caught hold of his hand to stop him from going down further, he smirks.

"Funny how you allow strangers to touch you, but not me, your husband who has the only right to do it." You kicked his crotch but not too hard.

"Bloody hell!!" He groaned as you tackled him down bringing yourself on top straddling him. You were far gone from feeling self conscious, sitting on top of him in just your undergarments.

"Well the thing is I don't take you as my husband." You sneer narrowing your eyes. "And the last time I checked, you don't trust me."

"Well I never trusted you on the first place and you proved it last night quite nicely for the reason why” He says. “but honey I'm not letting you go so easily."

"After a lot of thought I actually think you could be a perfect leverage for me" He then goes to press his hand to your lower stomach "Moreover if you were with my child I guess grandpa Victor will certainly agree to some negotiations" He ticked his jaw with a devilish grin. You flare your nostrils fuming at his audacity.

"I would rather be barren than let you father my child and give him/her this cursed life." You seeth. Tom seemed a little hurt by your words of how you think he's going to be a terrible father but he masked it with his usual cocky self.

"Truth be told princess I love to be on top and in control but for a change you really look so pretty on top, can't imagine how beautiful you'll look while you ride my dick" He says tracing your jawline with his fingers. You swat his hand away.

"You're such a piece of shit!" You snap getting off him. He gets up chuckling and leaves the room as you quickly get off the bed and run to the bathroom.

Undressing yourself from the leftover clothes you ran a warm shower, the warm water quickly relaxing your muscles. You smelt of sweat, alcohol and cigarettes which made you feel dirty. You squirted some body wash and lathered your body with it before washing it off. Then you washed your hair with shampoo.

You take your time before drying yourself off and walk out of the bathroom busy fixing your towel and bumped into Tom. His large hands held your arms steadying you meanwhile your towel loosens and falls off your body. You both looked at each other in shock.

Tom stands there like a statue gaping at you, eyes lingering from top to bottom of your exposed body; ‘man you have a goddess like body’ he thought as beads of water trickled down your wet hair. You finally come back to your senses then it suddenly hit you that you were standing completely naked.

"What the fuck!! Tom close your eyes!!!" You shriek out quickly bending down to grab the towel and cover yourself. Hearing you scream Harrison came barging in your room.

"What happened mate?" Out of instinct Tom lunges forward and embraces you tightly blocking you from anyone's view.

"Harrison! Get the fuck out of here!"

"Oh I'm sorry bruh. Didn't know you were busy." He cackles turning around. Some of his other men also came rushing in thinking something happened, leading to a total chaotic situation in the room.

"Yes, who else is left to join the party you are cordially invited!" You yell frustrated.

Tom is still guarding you as he yells sharply. "Get out of here you bloody morons!"

When everyone is finally out of the room Tom steps back as you stand at your place clutching on to your towel, both of you looking away from each other. After a few awkward moments of silence Tom finally speaks up.

"That was quite a spectacular view, you have kept things quite perked up I see." He says playfully. And that was enough to get on your nerves.

"You!!!" You glower taking the vase you found near you in your hand to hurl it at him. He steps back a little, raising his hands defensively.

"Careful love! That cost me thousands of dollars, though I don't have any shortage of money but still don't want a lovely art to go to waste just to appease your anger on your piece of shit husband" He snickers breaking into a laugh and runs out of the room leaving you fuming.

"Son of a bitch! Uggh!!" You stomp your feet keeping back the vase at its place. Your phone dinged and you went to check, it was a message from William.

W : Good news

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

Taglist in bio or send an ask/dm I’ll add you

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland smut #tom holland imagines #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine #mob!tom #mob!tom holland

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in-my-feels-probably · 3 years ago

Text

INEFFABLE - Kaz Brekker

Chapter Fifteen

If you would like to read this on Wattpad, it’s on there as well, my @ is in_my_feels_probably and there’s a few visuals and better descriptions and stuff on there. otherwise, enjoy, let me know what you think, and you can check out my masterlist for updates and more. don’t forget to read the prologue, it’s important to the story!

INEFFABLE - Kaz Brekker

ineffable (adj.) too great to be expressed in words, utterly indescribable; too sacred to speak of.

Chapter Fifteen

Once all the attention was on the Darkling and the Fold, the Crows quickly lifted a cargo hold, scrambling below deck. The volcra could be heard in the distance, and it sent a chill down Elham’s spine.

Jesper was cleaning his revolvers, groaning. “This is a bad idea.”

Kaz sounded calm, but Elham could feel the worry in his tone. “I think it’s rather practical.”

Jesper scoffed. “What? Why?”

“I don’t see how we step off this boat without you pulling those guns. So, cleaning them is a good idea.”

A screech was heard in the distance.

Jesper chuckled, motioning from his guns to the skiff around them. “Oh, I don’t mean this. I mean this! We are in the worst place in the world on a ship full of people who want us dead, surrounded by monsters who want us in their gullets. I should have brought Milo.”

Inej was glancing around towards the upper deck. “Who’s Milo?”

“The goat!”

Elham rolled her eyes, chuckling. “Jesper, those guns, the goat, my powers, all of it doesn’t matter, it’ll do fuck all if the Darkling intends on using his powers against us. We get it, you miss Milo, and we’re all scared without any comfort, but your constant need to list off the reasons we’re in danger is no comfort to any of us. Do you need a hug or something?”

It was quiet for a minute. Jesper pondered for a moment, before standing and moving towards her. “Yeah, I do, actually. It’s been a shit day.”

Elham let out an actual laugh at that, wrapping her arms tight around his neck. She could feel his hands shaking against her back, and she squeezed him tighter. She put her hands on his shoulders, pushing him out and holding him at arm's length away from her.

“It has been a shitty day. But listen to me, we’re gonna be fine, yeah? Have you seen how many times we’ve all been in a situation where we should have died? How many times have we saved each other's asses? We’ll make it...well, at least Kaz will. He’s got the survival instincts of a cockroach, I suspect he’ll outlive us all.”

Kaz almost grinned, and Elham could feel the sarcasm laced in his voice. “Someone has to run the Barrel. Might as well be me. I’ll miss you all dearly, though. I’ll make sure to light a candle for you.”

Jesper seemed to relax, and Kaz nodded at him. “How many bullets do you have?”

Another screech was heard in the distance, this one closer than the last.

“Not enough.”

---

The Crows had been standing for a while, listening to the screeches in the distance, as well as the uneasy murmurs of guests on deck. All of a sudden, a giant rumble came from above, and a small light was cast over the slats in the ceiling. The Crows looked around uneasily, trying to gage what had occurred.

“So? What's our play?”

Kaz was still looking up. “We wait.”

“For what?”

He spoke like it was obvious. “For whatever the general has planned.”

“You figured him out?”

Elham scoffed. It would take a century to figure out the depths of the Darkling, and she suspected no one would still be around by then to pick his brain. No one except Alina, that is. She felt pity for the girl who would be the only person in their lifetime to live long enough to see the Darkling rise and fall.

Kaz just shook his head. “Not quite. Consider the scenario. The Sun Summoner fled from his palace, and now she’s tied to the deck. We’re sailing for a city where another general hired Arken to kill her. And I saw his face as he boarded. I know that look. He’s a man consumed with vengeance.”

Jesper scoffed. “See it enough in the mirror, do you?”

Kaz looked unamused, and Jesper continued. “So? What kind of revenge is he planning exactly?”

“We know it requires the Sun Summoner, which makes her valuable to us. She’s the one keeping everyone safe in here. If we have control of her, then we call the shots.”

Elham felt her stomach drop. “Kaz, what if he found a way to use Alina’s powers with his? Like how he would do with mine when I was at the Little Palace? That would mean--”

Kaz stiffened, slowly putting the pieces together. “...We need to threaten her life.”

Suddenly, Inej popped up from behind a barrel, holding a knife to a man’s neck and a gun to the head, exclaiming at the same time as Elham.

“What?”

The Crows quickly turned, moving to defend themselves. Kaz took a step forward, half shielding Elham from view. Still, Elham let flames pool in her palms while she stared, and she watched the man glance between the Crows and her hands.

Jesper leaned forward. “Who’s this?”

Inej responded. “A stowaway. Why pick this of all skiffs?”

The man spoke, raising his hands in surrender. “To kill the general and save Alina.”

Jesper cocked his gun, taking a step forward, his tone menacing, the most intimidating Elham had ever heard from him. Sometimes, she forgot just how ruthless the Crows could be.

“I’ll ask again. Who are you?”

“Mal Oretsev.”

Kaz eyed him, and then moved to stand in front of him. Elham and Jesper followed. Elham had let the flames in her palms die down, and instead, she had unsheathed her sword, gripping it in her hand.

Mal was still glancing at her. “You have a Grisha on your side? You’re sure she isn’t sworn to the general? Can’t be too sure these days.”

Elham rolled her eyes, lifting the tip of her sword to land under his chin. Mal swallowed, tilting his head to get away from the tip of her blade. She pressed further.

“And just when I was starting to like you. Yes, I’m a Grisha, but I’m a hell of a lot better swordsman. No, I’m not sworn to the general, I would rather die than swear allegiance to him, and I would kill him myself if I had the chance. Now, what were you saying?”

Kaz swung his cane to tap her leg, and she grudgingly pulled her sword to her side and stepped back next to Jesper. He gave her a glance, silently telling her to stay in line and follow his lead. He turned back to Mal.

“You know Alina?”

“I do.”

“Who’s in control of her?”

“The general I’m going to kill.”

Kaz cocked his head to the side, analyzing, before deciding. “Inej, give him his gun.”

She squinted. “Why?”

“Because if he isn’t with Kirigan’s crew, he’s with ours.”

Jesper holstered his gun, and Inej handed Mal his gun. Elham sheathed her sword, and Mal turned to her. “Sorry. Wrong impression.”

Elham let out a mix between a laugh and a scoff. “Don’t worry, love, you didn’t hurt my feelings. Maybe turned my stomach up a bit at the thought of joining the Darkling, but you didn’t hurt my feelings. I would watch how you talk to people though. Words like that around powerful people just might get you killed.”

He grinned at her, holstering his gun. “That would involve living long enough to make it to those people, and so far, I think I’m doing alright.”

---

The Crows and Mal spent as long as they could below deck, biding their time, when the screaming started. The sound of a whole city being swallowed by darkness and claimed by volcra was echoing in Elham’s ears, the screams on board deafening. Elham brought a hand to her mouth, holding in a scream herself.

Jesper leaned against Elham’s side, pulling her closer to him. “What now?”

Kaz turned to them, and he was almost as scared as Elham had ever seen him. She hadn’t seen that look on his face since they were in his office with Pekka Rollins, or when he broke his leg the night she first touched him. Still, he was unwavering.

“We wait.”

Inej stepped forward. “Kaz, you can hear him slaughtering a city.”

“So you understand the scale of his power, then? Good.”

Mal shook his head. “The bold move is to strike now.”

“And the smart one is to get clear of the damned Fold first.”

Msl nodded, heading for the stairs that lead to the cargo hold door. “I never said I was smart.”

Jesper scoffed, eyes wide. “Can you believe him?”

Inej shrugged off her coat, pulling out her knives. “I’m going with him.”

Before Elham could grab her, she ran up the stairs. Elham turned with desperate eyes to Kaz and Jesper, who didn’t look any calmer. They waited a moment, before Jesper groaned, throwing off his jacket and moving towards the door.

Kaz panicked. “We wait!”

Jesper shook his head. “The action’s up there.”

“They have the advantage.”

“Only because I’m not in the game.”

Elham shook her head, tears pricking her eyes. She felt more vulnerable than she had in a long time, and she hated it.

“Jesper, please don’t go. I can’t lose one of you, you’re all I’ve got. You know it’s a suicide mission.”

His eyes softened, and he sent a small smile her way. “I’ve got to, love. I’ll be ok.”

He rushed up the stairs, leaving Elham and Kaz alone. Elham turned to him, and he knew the look on her face.

“No. Not you too. I don’t care how good you are with a sword, or about your fucking powers, no.”

“Kaz, I have to! They’re not gonna get hurt, or Saints forbid, die, when I could have been up there to stop it. I’m going up there.”

Elham took a step up the stairs, when Kaz took a hold of her hand, holding her back. The look in his eye was unfamiliar, animalistic, and she felt her heart race. His voice was a murmur now, a desperate plea.

“Don’t. Not you too. Otherwise I’ll have no choice but go up there, make sure you stay alive.”

Elham scoffed, but she was all too aware of his gloved hand still clutching hers, holding her back, gripping her like she would crumble and slip away at any moment.

“Why won’t you let me go? Am I that important, above Jesper or Inej? If we survive this, I’m just gonna get handed over to Heleen, so why not let me go, let me at least try and do some good before I go out?”

Kaz’s face contorted into anger. “You’re not dying, and you’re not going to Heleen! Yes, you’re that important, so I have to protect you!”

Elham’s mind was reeling now, but she knew she had to say it. She had to know.

“Haven’t I been the one saving your ass all these years? You have to protect me, now? Because what, you always protect your investments? Your Valkyrie?”

No. Well, yes, of course he would protect her because of that, but that’s not what she is to him. Not entirely. Not anymore. She was so much more than that to him.

She was ineffable.

She was ineffable, and he realized that. And while now wasn’t the most optimal time to say it, he knew he might never get the chance to say it again. He took a deep breath, squeezing her hand in his.

“No. I protect my girl, El.”

Her eyes widened, and she felt a tear slip down her cheek. He let go of her hand, raising a gloved thumb to wipe it away. She gave him a nod, slowly reaching for his cane. He raised a brow, but let her take it. She tapped the base of it to his ankle, and he let the smallest of smilest appear on his face.

She handed it back to him, nodding towards the stairs. “I’m gonna be fine. We’re gonna be fine. We’re in this together, Kaz. Come on, we have to help.”

He could feel his heart beating faster than it ever had, but he just nodded, and they raced up the stairs into the chaos.

---

A/N - we're getting close to the end. i haven't decided if i'm going to do an epilogue chapter or not, i was thinking of marking this book as complete when it's done, and adding the epilogue in before i write the second book and there's more show content, or maybe i'll make this one long book and when i start writing for it again i'll just add it to this one and mark it as ongoing. that's all undecided, and not an issue for now, but i'd love any ideas or feedback about that. i hope you like this chapter, let me know what you thought. there's about half an episode worth of content left, a few more chapters, and Ineffable will be complete. thank you so much for the support!

#wattpad #x reader #oc #grishaverse #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #inferni #in my feels probably #ineffable #six of crows imagine #six of crows #shadow and bone

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elareine · 4 years ago

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I know I already gave you one, but I just thought of this now, if you could, or ignore it, either one is fine, can you please write Nurse or Doctor Tim with JayTim or DickTim, or both go crazy with it, if you want. And Tim being so exasperated with them because they keep giving him the lamest excuses for their injuries, because they don't know he knows or they suspect he knows but both sides are trying to see who will mention it first. So its like a big competition of who will break first.

So the competition aspect got lost a bit? I hope you still enjoy it :)

Warning: Some dark jokes about domestic violence, mostly borne out of my experience when I actually fell down the stairs. Also I blatantly did not care about the actual medical issues in this.

“You fell down the stairs.”

Usually, when Tim had to repeat these words to someone, he said them gently: telegraphing his disbelief as well as his willingness to keep up appearances as long as the victim needed to. With kids, he was a bit more direct, though only after separating them from the parent. He never spoke this sarcastically; that would be uncalled for.

(Also, contrary to popular belief, some people actually did fall down the stairs.)

Today? Today his words were dripping with sarcasm.

The man—‘Richard Grayson’ according to his file, ‘Dick’ according to his introduction, ‘Gotham’s most handsome bachelor’ according to the gossip mags—rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I… maybe it was more, like. The roof?”

“Did the roof use a whip, by any chance?” Tim asked, examining the welts. “What did you do to piss off Catwoman?”

“Not—Nothing, because I fell down the stairs.”

“The roof.”

“The stairs on the roof.”

Tim sighed. “Alright. We’re gonna need an x-ray because I suspect your muscle has been cut through. Please report to room three, and the nurse will take care of it.”

“Sure thing, doc!”

—

When Tim had been inspired by Thomas Wayne to become a doctor, this hadn’t been what he envisioned.

Cure the sick? Sure. Fix bones and other injuries? As an orthopedic specialist: every day. Look at every injury Dick Grayson acquired during his totally-legal activities? Nope. What the fuck.

The explanations became increasingly stupider, too, which was hard to believe seeing how they started with a chart-topper like ‘I fell down the stairs/roof and it happened to look like a belt from a whip.’

Tim had resolved early on that he wouldn’t ask. His patience for Dick’s weak-ass excuses was close to zero, sure, but it was safer to keep away. This was a professional medical praxis that cared for everyone, no matter their allegiance. Tim didn’t even know which vigilante was sitting in front of him.

…oh, who was he kidding. This was Nightwing. None of the other vigilantes in Gotham was that chipper.

(Also, that ass.)

Fine. Tim could deal with that. He might’ve even privately fangirled over the fact that he got to patch up Nightwing (the first Robin!) on a regular basis. Also, Dick was ridiculously charming; Tim didn’t mind spending time with him. It was a nice break in the middle of a hectic day.

Except then Dick started bringing his brother/boyfriend along.

(Yeah, Tim felt as weird about that ‘/‘ as you do. But they were holding hands, so…)

He took one look at Jason Todd and asked drily: “So, seen any good zombie movies lately?”

Dick choked on air. Jason just grinned through the bloody mess he’d made of his mouth and asked: “Do I look that bad?”

“Worse.” Tim sighed and started examining the mess closer, carefully pressing along the lines of the other man’s jaw. “Let me guess, you’re also into parkour?”

“Among other things.”

“Hmm. Yeah, nothing broken, I think, but we’ll double-check. If not, ice, painkillers, and no ‘rooftop parkour’ for a while, alright?” He paused. Honestly, judging by Jason’s stature (too wide for most vigilantes) and age (too young to be Batman)… “I’d tell you to wear a helmet, but apparently, even that’s not helping.”

Jason turned to Dick, grinning widely. “I can see why you like him.”

Tim had no idea what to think about that, so he didn’t.

—

It was supposed to be a quiet afternoon. Every Wednesday, Tim would close his practice at 2 p.m. and spend the rest of the day doing paperwork. A cup of tea and the tv in the background

Except then the news started, and Tim heard the phrases “Nightwing and Red Hood,” “magician,” and “explosion.”

Then, the footage—obviously taking from mobile phone recordings—began playing. He watched for three minutes, panic spreading through him. Nightwing limp on the ground. Red Hood, literally thrown through a wall. He knew that these men were terrifyingly well trained, that Red Hood must’ve had some beta modifications at some point in his life with the injuries he took in stride—

But on camera, they weren’t moving.

According to the timestamp, the footage had been taken thirty minutes ago.

“Clean-up has begun,” the reporter on the screen said. “There is no sign of the two vigilantes who have defended our community center to the last—“

Tim grabbed his things and ran.

Tam, his assistant, looked up in alarm as he entered the waiting area. “Tim?”

“I need to go,” Tim told her, not stopping. “It’s an emergency.”

And because Tam was the best, she simply called after him: “Call me if you need help! I’ll take care of the practice.”

Tim knew Dick’s home address, had memorized it just in case—just in case. That’s where Tim drove now. If they weren’t there, he would try Wayne Manor next, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

But when he pressed the doorbell at the apartment labeled ‘Grayson,’ he was immediately buzzed in.

Jason was the one who let him in and led him to the living room, where Dick half-sat, half laid on a couch.

Tim asked: “Okay. What hurts the most?”

“His head,” Jason replied, and Dick glared: “I’m told you I’m fine, Jay—“

Tim walked over. Swelling, definitely, and something about that shoulder…

“I popped that back in,” Jason explained. “But I think there’s something wrong with his neck.”

Yeah, there really was. Tim recognized the beginning of some deep bruising—strangulation, his mind supplied, that magician had tried to choke Dick out—and the back of Dick’s head felt tender and hot.

“I don’t suppose I can interest you in an x-ray?” he asked.

Disagreement all around. Fine. Tim would write them prescriptions for braces, if they didn’t have them lying around in a corner, anyway. Unless something felt like it was broken or shifted out of place or actually torn. You didn’t mess around with that.

Jason had sat down next to Dick, and Tim moved on seamlessly to checking him. Jason’s ribs were definitely not okay, but probably hadn’t punctured his lung or anything, or he wouldn’t be sitting here. Apart from that, he was one massive bruise and a fucked-up hit. No running for Red Hood for at least a week. (Six weeks for normal humans. Tim was used to the calculation by now.) Oh, and something had crushed his foot—“the building falling on me,” Jason very helpfully informed him—and they had both suffered fourth- and third-degree burns.

Tim began dressing the wounds in silence. His hands were shaking. Why were they shaking, dammit. He was a fucking doctor. His hands were the steadiest thing about him.

It felt like hours passed before he was done.

“You need to stay awake.” His tone was too sharp; he could do nothing to soften it. “With a blast like that, concussions are a given. Is there anyone we could call to stay up with you?”

Dick nodded, then winced. Yeah, he should avoid that movement for a while. “Yes, we could—“

“No.” Jason shook his head.

“No?” Dick looked at him. Something must’ve been telegraphed in Jason’s eyes because Dick continued: “Oh, I mean, no. I’m afraid there isn’t.”

“We’re all alone.”

“Totally.”

Tim sighed. “Don’t you have, like, fifteen siblings and a butler? I should just call Wayne Manor; I’m sure that number is on Google or something—“

“Tim,” Dick said very gently. His hand went up to grasp Tim’s. “Stay with us?”

Tim blinked. “That’s. Really unprofessional.” He didn’t pull his hands away, though.

“You’re in our living room.” Jason shifted—it looked painful—and continued: “Pretty sure nothing about this is professional, so…”

“Please?” Dick asked.

Tim inhaled deeply and shook his head. “You two are so—stupid.” They flinched. “Like, what’re you doing, getting injured like that every week? You’re going to get yourself killed, and then I will have to come up with an explanation and it’s gonna be better than any you ever came up with. You’re gonna be so bad for my blood pressure.”

Dick looked crestfallen, but Jason was starting to grin: “So, you’re staying, then?”

“Duh.”

(I’m taking prompts until the end of the year.)

#elareine writes #jaydicktim

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alexs-ummers · 4 years ago

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goodnight

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: Draco struggles with his feelings: for you and the world around him.

Words: 2142

notes: requests are open! let me know what you think of this and what you want to see next.

There was something almost enticing about loving someone when they had no idea. Draco thought this anyway, but he also likes to toture himself, believing he was not worthy of a gentle love. The enticing part was the glances at you. He could take as many as he wanted because nobody but Draco knew just how hard his heart was beating. He could watch every hair tuck, every smile, every move that you made and you wouldn’t suspect a thing. Maybe that was the excruciating part: that you never returned those glances. There was just no place in this world for a love so soft that only you could provide. There was no world in which the two of you would live happily ever after. Not with the mark on his arm, not with the Dark Lord making house calls.

He watched you from across the Great Hall as you ate dinner with your friends. You had asked to hang out later to work on potions homework. “Oh, but you’re so good at it Draco, won’t you please help me?” He could never say no, even with the transfiguration homework he had piling up. He never wanted to see a frown on your face, certainly not one of his own doing.

He was too deep in thought to realize the trickling of students going out the door. It wasn’t long before you stood in front of him, waving a hand to get his attention.

“Draco?”

“Oh.” He looks almost surprised to see you.

“Did you forget?”

He shakes his head, standing up from the Slytherin table. “No. Actually, I was just thinking about it.” He was also thinking about how perfect you seemed to look, though there wasn’t much different about your appearance. This just seemed like another side effect from being in love. God, this was starting to become a sickness for him, something he needed to be rid of to go back to his normal life. He’s never felt like this. He sometimes even feels physically sick. You are only a casualty in a world like this, a weakness.

You had no idea of the storm going on within his thoughts. “Great, let’s go.” You beamed, unaware still of the pull Draco had towards you. He’d follow you anywhere if destiny allowed it, but alas.

Draco and you took a seat in the common room of Slytherin. Most people cleared out if they saw Draco here, especially when he was with you. It seemed as if they were somehow intruding on something.

“Tell me what you need help with.” Draco says, pulling out his parchment and quill. Homework would usually be done side by side, working together to solve problems, but Draco could do it all on his own if he needed to. He didn’t want to, though. He liked the alone time with you where all your attention was turned to him. He could sit close to you, so close that the words he shared could only be heard by you.

He’s already fixated on you, all his attention in one place. It was something you really loved about studying with Draco, he took it very seriously. “Well, Slughorn is having us research Amortentia before we brew it. I just need help answering the questions.”

“Do you know what Amortentia is?” Draco tests you.

“Well, yeah. It’s a love potion.” You roll your eyes, starting to answer the question on the parchment.

“It’s the most powerful love potion to ever exist.” Draco feels like he’s already under its effects. “It causes infatuation, so I guess I wouldn’t call that love.” Draco smiles a little to himself, answering the question on his paper. “Now, tell me what it looks like, what it’s characteristics are.”

You continue studying and answering questions with Draco’s help. It never seems like you have enough time with each other, the fire already beginning to die out. He offers to walk you back to your room as the light dies and the glow fades from your face. You accept, as always.

“Goodnight, Draco.” You always stand at your door, always hoping for something spectacular to happen. It never does. Draco has self control, more than anyone else you know. He has a wall built between everyone, it hurts to think about how he even has one with you. It’s something you’ve grown to accept.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Saying goodbye is always the hardest. It always was, during breaks, after dinner, after class. It felt like leaving a piece of lightness within him. You were so good. He wants to kiss you goodnight, on the cheek, on the forehead, on the lips, but he doesn’t. He can’t. He has a long list of reasons he shouldn’t.

“Goodnight, Draco.” You tease, as he stands there. He always did this, lingered for longer than he should. There was something between you. Something unspoken, you knew it. You would die for each other. Feelings like these were dangerous to act on, they were too strong. Surely, you’d end up with a broken heart.

“Will you meet me in the morning, at our spot?” Draco doesn’t ask this of you often, usually only when he needs a close friend. You know something is on his mind when he asks.

You nod, raising a hand to touch his cheek gingerly before you decide to retreat into the darkness of your bedroom. “Of course. Now, get some sleep.” He’s overthinking, he still is even when you touch him. It barely elicits a reaction, at least a noticeable one. He’ll dream of the touch for nights to come.

It’s a chilly fall morning, but the sun still decided it was the perfect time to wake you up. You had to meet Draco after breakfast, anyway. The wind whispers outside, reminding you to grab a jacket. It’d be a bone-chilling day. You seem to rush through breakfast, hurriedly telling your friends goodbye.

Draco is sitting against the tree when you arrive, still deep in thought like he hasn’t left his mind since yesterday. He was usually much more talkative during studying, cracking jokes, teasing you. You suppose he has been different since he came back from home. He doesn’t talk about his home life much, but you hear the rumors. You opt to listen to what Draco will tell you personally, which isn’t much.

You sit next to him without a word.

“I was thinking,” Draco starts.

“I can tell.” You take notice of the dark circles underneath his eyes and the disheveled hair. The classic Draco didn’t get any sleep.

He lets out a small chuckle despite the ache in his chest.

Draco spent all of last night, tossing and turning. He had a list of all the reasons it was a stupid idea to start a relationship with you. There was another growing list of reasons why he should, but he couldn’t be naive, he couldn’t give in to childish behavior. He couldn’t be fucking weak.

“I think…” Draco swallows, his thoughts doing a 360. He had the intention of telling you he loved you. “I think we should stop being friends.”

You’re taken aback. “Excuse me?” A 6 year friendship down the fucking drain, just like that? Your face grows warm, your stomach turns.

“I think we’ve grown apart.”

The tears pool in your eyes and you can’t begin to process his words. “Draco-”

“I’m serious, Y/N. I can’t do this.” Draco storms off from your spot by the lake, leaving you alone in the fall weather with a broken and cold heart.

You’re not sure how long you sit there in the bitter weather crying out all your pain.

Days pass, weeks pass, and nothing is the same for Draco. His mood worsens. He doesn’t sleep. He has no light in his life, but he knows now that’s all life has in store: darkness.

The two of you pass each other in the hallways, make eye-contact during potions, and dream of each other at night. It’s the only place Draco allows you to be.

A month passes before Draco can’t handle the loneliness anymore. It’s selfish of him, but he wants to see you. Things are stirring up within the darkside of the wizarding world. There’s talk of killing Dumbledore and Draco has yet to prove his allegiance to the Dark Lord. He already suspects that he’ll be tasked to do the job. He hates himself for risking your safety, but regrets not being there to keep you safe. Perhaps, you’d be safer with him. Surely, they would understand. He’s being naive again and he knows it.

He passes a note back to you during potions, he’s surprised you don’t rip it up instantly and throw the pieces in his face. It’s what he did to your heart, but he knows you too well. You would never hurt him like that, not like he did to you.

The note reads, “Our spot, 9 PM.” You roll your eyes, how dare he? He thinks he’s entitled to everything. Despite these thoughts, you put the note inside your robes. You’d return to the thought after you weren’t stressing over the potions homework.

It’s after dinner when you begin to think of him. You decided to go and meet with him. The rumors were dreadful around the school. Draco, a death eater, working for Voldemort. It terrified you, but you wanted to hear the truth from him. You couldn’t imagine the weight upon his shoulders, the family name… You sighed, checking the clock.

Draco stands at the tree. It’s dark, but the lights of the castle illuminate your silhouette.

“Hi, Draco.” You greet him, your demeanor cold, arms crossed. You didn’t expect to welcome him with open arms, not without an explanation, an apology, maybe not even then.

“Y/N.” He struggles with the urge to reach out to you. “I…” He looks away from you. He feels the itching of the mark underneath his robes. The secrets wanting to claw themselves out of him.

“You’re sorry?” You roll your eyes, sitting down at the tree.

You’ll be patient with him, you’ll at least give him that.

He wants to laugh a pathetic laugh. “Yeah.” He takes the spot beside you, arms touching, just like you used to.

“I know.” You respond.

“It’s not enough.”

“No, it’s not.” You gaze at the castle, wondering what had happened over the years. Draco never used to act like this, he was never an overthinker, a worrier. “It’s true, isn’t it?” Never would you bring up the rumors before, Draco hated them. He hated what others would say about his family, about him, about his relationships and his friends. But the world around you was changing. Voldemort was back.

“Yes.” He waits for you to scream at him, to run into the castle and tell everyone it’s true.

You don’t say a word. A hand grips his own. He feels the dark subside momentarily, he feels the light you bring him. You squeeze his hand. You don’t look at each other, there’s tears in both of your eyes. It’s too much to acknowledge that right now.

It’s silent for a while, just savoring the feeling of your hands gripping each other like it’s the only thing grounding you to this world and it is.

“I’m terrified.” This applied to everything in your life. Terrified for him, scared for your relationship, scared for the wizarding world.

“Me too.” He finally looks at you, moving his hand to touch your cheek. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Y/N.” He’s silent for a moment, “To us.”

You melt into his touch, nodding your head. Draco could tell you a complete and utter lie and you would believe him.

Draco knows now that there’s nothing better than knowing you’re loved back. The torment seems to subside when he’s holding you. You sit like this until the lights within the castle begin to fade. Draco offers to walk you back to the dorm. You accept, as always.

You don’t let go of his hand until the very last moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He nods, feeling exhausted from the intense emotions. He still doesn’t want to leave your side, but he won’t rush this. He must nurture it, keep it safe and protected, like he promised.

“Goodnight, Draco.” You give him a small smile, still waiting for something spectacular.

He was always waiting for it too and the feeling finally bubbles over and he’s pressing his lips against yours. It’s short and it’s just what you needed. It makes you never want to be away from him. You want to be feeling a part of him always like a way to stay grounded. He presses one last kiss to your forehead, for safe measure.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

#Draco Malfoy x reader #Draco Malfoy imagines #draco Malfoy oneshots #Harry Potter x reader #Harry Potter imagines #Draco Malfoy x y/n #my writing #Draco Malfoy #harry potter #angst

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acciomalfoy · 4 years ago

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BETROTHED (DRACO MALFOY X READER)

Summary: To avoid you being betrothed to an old man, Draco comes up with a plan.

—

"Dear Y/n, your mother and I have discussed your coming of age in great depth, and we have decided your betrothal has been delayed far too long. We will begin meeting with potential suitors immediately, as far too many eyes are watching us. We're looking forward to seeing you at Christmas. Best wishes, your Father."

I gasped as I crumpled the letter, shoving it deep into my pocket. How could they do this? I knew I shouldn't have opened anything from them in the Great Hall, but as the tears fell, I only just remembered why. I stood up quickly and walked as fast as I could out of the Hall. As soon as I was out, I broke off running, my loud sobs echoing in the castle. Paintings stared at me as I ran past, their disapproving eyes raking me over.

"How did that one get into Slytherin?" I heard one murmur, a snicker followed. I ran straight around one of the corners, and smacked right into someone.

"L/n?" Godric, why? Malfoy held my wrists in front of me, staring into my blotchy face.

"Let go of me." I sniffed, and tried to pull away. His grip only tightened, but his tone softened.

"L/n. What's wrong? Did someone say something to you?" His voice sounded concerned, but this was Draco Malfoy of all people. Did the boy even know what the word meant?

"M-My parents!" Tears rolled down and down my face. I didn't want to be married to a sixty year old man. I wanted to be free to love who I yearned to, like the Weasley's were.

"What about them? Are they okay?" When I lowered my head, he let go of one of my wrists to lift it.

"They're betrothing me!" I wiped my nose and another round of sobs overtook me. Of course, I knew a girl two years below me who was already married off, but for some reason I never thought it would happen to me. One of my friends was, but Tracy swore he was only twenty. A name like Engleberton doesn't sound like it belongs to a twenty year old.

"I'm sorry, L/n. You know, it does happen to pretty much every Slytherin. Who's it to?" And then we were hugging, in the middle of a corridor. I knew his problems were so much bigger than him, or me, but for some reason he was listening to me. He was caring about what I had to say.

"I don't know. They've only just begun the meetings. My life is over!" He patted my back, and I tried not to cry on him, I really did. But then my nose and my eyes were leaking, me being powerless to stop them.

"How would you feel about being betrothed to someone in Hogwarts." His head leant on mine, and I really didn't know what was happening.

"Pretty much every pureblood is inbred here. I think I'm the only one who isn't. If only Pansy's parents weren't cousins, maybe she wouldn't have that nose." He stepped back, and looked at me.

"I'm not." He murmured, and I almost had to lean forward to hear it. He wasn't inbred? Damn, could've fooled me.

"Listen, Malfoy. I appreciate it, I really do. I used to have a crush on you, back in third year. The thing is, you've changed. You're a slave, and the binding tattoo on your arm is the only thing stopping me from kissing you right now. I really wish we could have worked through it, but there is no way in hell that I will ever, ever have an allegiance to him. I would rather die." When I jerked my arm back, his fingers fell.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy. I really am." I forgot about the reason he was being nice, and remembered I was probably going to be married to a sixty year old. I shed another tear, and walked away from the saviour. If he couldn't save himself, then he couldn't save me.

"Wait!" He shouted after me, and I turned around in surprise.

"What if I changed sides?" His eyes were wild, and mine widened. Was he..?

"Malfoy, you don't have to do that." I looked at him, the impulsive slytherin, and sighed.

"I do. If I want to have you, then I have to. You said so. I'll go owl mother and, well, I'll see." With that, he turned around and walked away, in a similar way to I had. Except he wasn't crying, or even sniffling. He was being a saviour, and he was trying.

When I turned in the opposite direction, I realised what it meant. He was really trying to protect me. I had always assumed Pansy and Malfoy would end up married with little blonde pug babies. I had never seemed to catch his eye, except now, when it mattered most. I reached into my pocket to pull out the crumpled letter, and reread it. Godric, I hoped Draco would help me.

A week had passed when Pansy came barrelling into the Great Hall, a newspaper clutched in her hand. She was waving it about, and I couldn't hear what she was saying.

"Engaged! Can you believe it?" She shrieked as she passed some students. When her eyes caught mine, she raced over.

"When were you going to tell me? Salazar, Y/n! You know I like him! We were always meant to be together. Fuck, this really stings. You're my best friend, how could you do this?" Her eyes started watering, and I snatched the newspaper out of her hand.

"The Malfoys and L/n's exciting news? What the fuck?" I skimmed the front page, and I felt bile rising in my throat.

"Oh my Godric, I'm-I'm going to be sick!" I looked around desperately, but I couldn't see a single thing nearby that I could throw up in.

"L/n!" Malfoy was yelling at me, and as soon as I saw him I couldn't help it. My vomit flew all over him, and I stared at him.

"How could you? You evil bastard!" I shouted at him before shouldering him as I ran past. Fucking cow! How on earth could he do this? Deep down, I already knew what I was going to do. If my betrothed was a death eater, then I would have to talk to Harry. Harry Potter could help me, he would have to help me.

I knew where the Gryffindor common room was, thanks to being study partners with Hermione. Smartest girl I've ever known. I ran up the stairs, swallowing the taste of vomit in my throat. I cast a quick spell, and the scent vanished, as well as my uniform being cleaned up. I knocked desperately on the portrait, and a first year opened it.

"I need Harry." If Harry came, then I knew the other two would. Sure enough, Harry was in the middle, the other two flanking him.

"Y/n! I heard the news! Are you okay?" He was hugging me, and I was reminded of how sweet he was.

"No, I'm not. Malfoy's a death eater, I'm sure you already suspected it. I told him last week I wasn't getting married to him if he was on that side, and he said he would change sides. He hasn't, and I haven't heard anything to show that he is. I need your help to put him on the right path, or I'm going to have to leave Hogwarts. Permanently. I'll be running away if I have to marry a death eater." I said it quickly, but the golden trio caught every word. Hermione's hand went to her mouth, but it was more in horror than surprise.

"We suspected, but we didn't know for sure." Hermione said, looking at me quite sadly.

"We have to go to Dumbledore. He can help us. Draco can join the order-" Harry began.

"No, Harry. For Malfoy to join the order, he has to be one hundred percent loyal. He has to go against everything he's been taught, and the very role he is destined to fill. He has to abandon his family, unless they are willing also. This is incredibly serious. We have to talk to him first." Hermione finished. Harry nodded slowly.

"I'll check the map." He turned around, and I watched his retreating figure as he went up the stairs.

"Thank you guys. You're seriously the best. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it." Ron looked uncomfortable, but Hermione smiled back. They gestured for me to come inside, and the portrait closed behind me.

"It would be an incredible advantage to have the Malfoy's on our side. That's practically an unlimited funding, and with their high status they may be the deciding factor in whether other families join us. I only hope we can convince them." Hermione brushed a hair out of her face as Harry came thundering down the stairs.

"He's in Dumbledore's office!" Harry pointed at his name, and I stared. He was doing it. I didn't know why he was trying so hard to help me. I couldn't help but wonder if he had ulterior motives. Malfoy has hardly noticed me, I'm not sure he's uttered a word to me. And now? Now he's going to the ends of the earth for me. I didn't know what to think.

"He must really care for you." Hermione put a hand on my shoulder, and I nodded, swallowing thickly.

"I know it's horrible of me to wonder, but he hasn't shown any interest in me for the five and a half years that we've been at Hogwarts. Surely, if he was doing all this to help me, he would have?" I looked wildly at the three best friends, and they gazed back at me, almost pityingly.

"He has, Y/n. He really has." Ron said. I shook my head.

"He hasn't. He seriously hasn't." Ron laughed, but his heart wasn't in it.

"In first year, I called you Malfoy's girlfriend when he was picking on us. He screamed at me, and then he threatened to snap my wand if I said your name again." Ron looked almost spooked at the memory, and I rolled my eyes.

"That's him being protective of a fellow Slytherin, not him having a crush." Hermione raised her eyebrows, and I raised mine back.

"Fine. I caught him doodling your name and his, with hearts around them." Hermione looked smug, and I laughed.

"Probably drawing crosses through my name." They all sighed.

"D'you remember last time gryffindor versed slytherin? When Malfoy fell off his broom?" Godric, how could I forget? He had an empty look in his eyes, and it scared me.

"Yeah?" I didn't know how on earth they could relate this one to me.

"He was making fun of me, so I told him I had a crush on you. I said something like, after I ask Y/n to celebrate gryffindor winning, we'll see who's laughing. I think that's what I said. He went completely white, even paler than normal. Then a gust of wind came, and it was like he wanted to fall. He let the wind take him." Harry looked at me, and I knew, deep down, he was telling the truth. A knock at the portrait interrupted us. I moved aside, and Hermione opened it. She stared.

"Who is it? Oh, blimey." Ron took a peek, and he didn't like what he saw. I poked my head around to see Malfoy. His eyes caught mine, and I looked away to see his robes were no longer covered in vomit. Good for him.

"Y/n, please come talk to me." My first name sounded foreign on his tongue. I looked at my friends, and despite their hatred for Malfoy, they nodded. I stepped hesitantly, and the portrait closed behind me. He gestured for me to walk with him, so I did.

"I owled my mother last week, like I told you. She didn't reply, and when the newspaper was released this morning I found out, just like everyone else. I know you're not willing to be a slave to Him like the rest of my family, and I agree. I've been given a task by Him, and I don't intend on doing it. I talked to my mother in a firecall this morning, and they are moving into a location known only to them, and the secret keeper, much like Potter's parents. They'll be protected there, and I'm protected here. I'm trying to fix this, Y/n, I really am." It was a lot of information, and he took my hand as he was speaking. The Malfoy's were going into hiding. That alone was massive. Their assets must have been frozen and transferred, so He can't access the funding. I looked at him, and squeezed his hand.

"Thank you, Malfoy. It really does mean a lot. I have to ask you, why are you doing this?" We stopped walking, and he looked down.

"I've had a crush on you since first year, and I've wanted you for three." Godric knew what he meant by 'want'. I kissed him, right there in the middle of the hall, because his nose was dotted in faint freckles, and never before had someone been so determined to help me.

He kissed me back.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #slytherin #harry potter

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uwua3 · 4 years ago

Text

imposter.

🌸🎮 chigasaki itaru

summary: rule #1 — never take off your helmet

dedication: shy anon 🧡 :)

warnings: angst, betrayal, death(s), gore, heartbreak, lying

author’s note: this is set in an among us universe :D please be mindful of the concept of the game as you progress forward in the writing! this is an overdue halloween–piece that will bring the chills even in november! (this is the first time i’ve written in first person... :O) ♡ to shy, i hope you especially like this!

word count: 2,550

music: hit and run – lolo, as the world caves in – matt maltese

YOUR LOG. STARDATE:

October 31, 20XX ☆ 05:24

There is only one rule on the spaceship everyone follows: NEVER TAKE OFF YOUR HELMET.

Ever since the report of an alien specimen being on board, the entire crew has made it mandatory that we remain in uniform. I’ve slowly forgotten the faces of my crewmates, all I can see is the color of their astronaut suits. Every day is the same: waking up to do tasks, all whilst hoping not to die.

Luckily, we haven’t had to call an emergency meeting in months. Or, so I believe. Time passes differently in the middle of the solar system. How long has it been since I’ve talked to someone outside of maintaining the ship? Days, weeks, months, years? The threat of an invader walking among us has taken over our ship for the worst.

I have to do my tasks now.

YOUR LOG. STARDATE:

November 1, 20XX ☆ 06:30

Today, a new crew member joined us! From what the captain told us, he goes by the name Taruchi. He wears an orange uniform and doesn’t seem to talk much, only really spends time on his government-assigned phone.

I’ve introduced myself to Taruchi at the mandatory staff meeting, but he didn’t seem to be too interested. He just nodded and went back to tapping away on his screen, playing something that looked like shooting asteroids.

To be honest, no one knows exactly why it took this long to replace White, who was tragically murdered by the Imposter not too long ago. I assume it’s because no one wants to work on a spaceship where the alien is still on board. Taruchi’s got guts, that’s for sure. Or, maybe…

Is it just me… or is Taruchi sus?

YOUR LOG. STARDATE:

November 2, 20XX ☆ 15:43

Red died.

Right before the lights had to be fixed in Electrical, I noticed an orange suit out of the corner of my eye. Taruchi leaned against the wall in the Storage corridor, right beneath the blinking security camera. He was on his phone again, almost pulling it out of his pocket before stopping, looking up to meet my gaze.

I swear my heart stop. Even with both of our helmets on, I could feel the piercing stare of this unknown crew member. Taruchi straightened his posture, and I could feel how tall he truly was. He tilted his head, presumably looking me up and down before tapping a button on his phone. The last thing I felt was the unfamiliar buzz of notification against my belt strap before it went all dark for a few minutes.

Red’s body was reported by Purple in Electrical, a location Taruchi and I were just around the corner of. By the time everyone entered the Cafeteria to vote, Purple’s finger was pointed directly at me. It was the first time I’ve been accused of being the Imposter. Purple, a friend who I had known ever since we both joined this Skeld map together, thought I had murdered Red in cold blood.

Taruchi spoke up for the first time since he arrived. His voice was smooth with a tone of calmness that fit his casual stance around the ship. Taruchi jumped so easily into the conversation, I couldn’t help but stare in awe while he sat beside me.

“They were with me in Storage, they’re safe.” Taruchi vouched for me, turning the conversation to a dead end. We all ended up agreeing to skip the vote, even if it was against Purple’s will at the end. When we rushed to finish our tasks for the day, all I remember was Purple staring at me for a moment too long before heading in the direction of the Upper Engine.

It was just Taruchi and me in the Cafeteria with the emergency button going through its cooldown again. I nearly couldn’t believe it, I was suspected. I would have to be careful of where I was next time.

Taruchi turned towards me as if wanting to say something, before sighing and shaking his head. He moved to stand up and stopped by the entrance to Medbay, turning around while knocking his knuckles onto the wall once as if he already didn’t have my undivided attention.

“Be careful, okay? There’s an Imposter among us.” I swore I could see him wink before he disappeared. Taruchi’s words didn’t leave me for the rest of the day because I had realized something.

We haven’t had a death in so long, until Taruchi arrived.

YOUR LOG. STARDATE:

November 5, 20XX ☆ 17:12

One crewmate had died today: Purple.

It was a hit and run in the Lower Engine. At the second body reporting of the day, Cyan claimed they were on cams duty in Security, but they didn’t see a thing. Purple was found in the Lower Engine in the lowest corridor to the left, making it an easy kill for the Imposter. Once I had found out the news, I was the immediate suspect.

If it wasn’t for Taruchi again, I would’ve been kicked out into space. I would’ve been the third death, but Taruchi had once again saved me.

Prior to Purple’s death, I was in the Reactor trying to start it. Taruchi walked into the room, nearly making me yell out of shock from how quiet he was. Taruchi raised his hands as if trying to prove he was innocent, helping me up from the ground with a small laugh.

“Hey, hey, hey. Calm down, you’re okay.” Taruchi reassured me, making sure I could stand on my own two (2) feet before letting me go. For some reason, even if every sign pointed to him being the Imposter, I believed him. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, nodding as I managed to thank him. Taruchi just waved his and, signaling for me to not worry about it as he caught sight of the keypad in front of me.

“Oh? You got the ‘Start Reactor’ task, hm?” Taruchi said, moving in closer to see my progress. I hadn’t even started yet, and that became embarrassingly obvious once Taruchi let out another laugh.

“You haven’t started? How long have you worked here?” Taruchi joked, knocking his fist into my helmet lightly as if to tease me. I swatted back, trying not to show I was flustered beneath my mask. Though, sometimes it felt like Taruchi could see right through me despite only being here for four (4) days or so.

“I’ve always been awful at patterns.” I admitted quietly, looking away as Taruchi tried to hold in his laughter this time around. It took a moment for him to compose himself before Taruchi exaggerated a sigh, taking my position and pressing in the pattern quickly without even hesitating.

Right as it reached the fifth stage, Taruchi looked over his shoulder to hold his hand out. “You have to clean up the Halloween decorations around the ship with me or else I’ll leave you to this task alone.” Taruchi compromised, waiting for me to accept this dal as the timer began counting down.

“Taruchi, you’re kidding.” You paused, waiting for him to say he was joking but that moment never came. Cleaning around the Skeld was the worst job possible, even if it got me out of a day of tasks. Before the last second disappeared, I took his hand with a loud “Fine!” and his other hand entered the code without even looking at the same time. Gamer hands were impressive, to say the least.

“Good little astronaut.” Taruchi patted my helmet as I watched the taskbar go up on my phone. “I’ll see you tomorrow in the Cafeteria at 0800, then, little one.”

Before I could respond to the new nickname, both Taruchi and I’s phone screens lit up with the notification of Brown reporting Purple’s corpse.

Taruchi’s fingers tensed around his device as he looked at me solemnly. “I’ll defend you in Cafeteria, don’t worry about it.” Taruchi promised, leaving first as I regained my senses and followed after him.

Taruchi lived up to his word, even when Yellow brought up how Purple was dead after accusing me a few days ago.

“Purple’s dead after they targeted you? Seems sus to me.” Yellow scoffed, kicking their feet up onto the table and crossing their arms. Murmurs spread around the cafeteria table, my own crew mates beginning to further doubt my allegiance.

“They just did a task in Reactor. Can’t you see it in the taskbar?” Taruchi retorted back, holding up his own screen as evidence. The rest of the crew checked to confirm, and voiced their agreement.

“How did you know that, Orange?” Blue questioned out of nowhere, leaning forward to stare at Taruchi and me. I didn’t know what to say, should I admit I was with Taruchi or would that make both of us seem suspicious?

“Stalked them from the vents, of course.”

It went so silent I could hear the beeping from navigation. Everyone was looking at Taruchi at this point. The vent from Lower Engine did lead to Reactor… but, that made no sense. Taruchi had walked into the entrance, he didn’t vent up.

“Haha, just kidding.” Taruchi said after a moment too long, leading to everyone relaxing after an uncomfortable but relieved sigh. I didn’t know why I didn’t defend Taruchi immediately, except... I did. I just didn’t want to say it out loud. Even I wasn’t sure if Taruchi was another Impostor or not.

Two (2) imposters on one (1) ship… I shuddered at the thought.

Once again, we ended up skipping. I think the crew was afraid of what would happen if we lost another innocent. Everyone else left to mourn yet another death as Taurchi and I stayed behind again.

Taruchi couldn’t be Imposter. Not when I felt this safe with him. Taruchi was the one to stand up first again after he noticed I wasn’t saying anything. This time, he leaned over me instead.

“Your helmet isn’t put on right, it’s not adjusted correctly.” Taruchi reminded me, fixing it so we both could hear the latches hook onto the helmet. I wondered what his hands would feel like without those orange gloves, but, I nodded instead.

“Remember tomorrow, here, 8, got it?” When I nodded again, he laughed. It was a sound that made me feel relaxed even when the rest of the crew was on high alert.

“It’s a date, then.” Taruchi added on before strolling out towards his dorms, I assume. I just waved goodbye before freezing. Huh? What did that mean? Was it actually a date?

Even when my crew mates were facing the threat of death, I couldn’t help but get excited over seeing Taruchi tomorrow morning.

YOUR LOG. STARDATE:

November 6, 20XX ☆ 12:07

Taruchi took off his helmet today.

He said to stop calling him that alias, his real name is Chigasaki Itaru. Itaru… I like that more than Taruchi.

His eyes are the same color as Pink’s uniform, with blonde hair that fell over his forehead after wearing his helmet all day. When Itaru saw me stare, he smiled and it only made my heart beat faster.

“Uh oh. Does someone have to go to MedBay to check their vitals?” Itaru joked, nudging me with his helmet. Itaru had broken rule #1 of the spaceship, he had taken off his helmet… for me.

“See? I told you I wasn’t Imposter. I could tell you were thinking that, but, I promise, I’m on your side.” Itaru didn’t ask me to take off my helmet. He just put his back on and we continued taking down the Halloween decorations.

Taruchi—no, Itaru, wasn’t an Imposter. I knew that for a fact.

YOUR LOG. STARDATE:

November 15, 20XX ☆ 02:52

I really like Itaru. I want to play this game with him forever, but, I can’t.

YOUR LOG. STARDATE:

November 24, 20XX ☆ 23:11

Itaru and I were watching the stars as we patrolled Navigation for the night. As we slowly made our way through time and space itself, I could hear Itaru turn on automatic cruise control. I looked towards him as he yawned despite being the biggest night owl on the ship.

When Itaru took off his helmet and shook his head, fixing his hair in the process, he leaned back in his pilot seat with a lazy smile.

“Me, you, and the stars. What could be better than this?” Itaru sighed, as if at peace after leaving the tense atmosphere of the ship. Now that it was night, the suspicion was asleep as everyone took their appropriate night shifts.

Underneath the starlight, I couldn’t help but admire him yet again. Itaru was beautiful and I found myself subconsciously smiling at him like a fool. Itaru glanced at the sky before meeting my sight, seemingly lost in a daze for a second before swearing, taking his feet off the control panel.

“I can’t see you, but goddamn it, I want to kiss you so bad.” Itaeu put his head in his hands, his words muffled but clear enough to make my heart skip a beat. Before I could stop myself, I revealed what I’ve always wanted to say ever since I met Itaru.

“I trust you, Itaru. Kiss me.”

Itaru slowly lifted his head, silently asking if you were serious. I leaned in closer, pushing my chair towards him as if giving him permission. Itaru was in shock and disbelief, before breaking out into a wide smile as if this was the highlight of his night.

When he leaned in as well, his hands ghosted over the latches of my helmet warily, meeting my eyes again to confirm. I nodded, and right before Itaru took it off, he whispered his last confession.

“I love you.”

Black alien tentacles pushed past the opening in my helmet and wrapped around Itaru’s throat without any warning. The helmet clattered to the floor noisily as tens of intergalactic limbs spread out and searched for their next victim. It had been so long since I last killed that my extraterrestrial tentacles were deathly hungry, and Itaru was next.

Itaru was lifted into the air, his feet dangling as he desperately tried to grab the tentacles off him. I couldn’t help but smile even as I watched the light fade away from his eyes. My parasitic tentacles squeezed tighter and tighter around every square surface of his body. It wouldn’t be long before he exploded all over the entire Navigation room.

“Rule #1: Never take off your helmet, Itaru.”

I dropped his lifeless body onto the floor without a care in the world. Orange’s suit was stained with blood with what was left of him. I put my helmet back on, wiping the evidence away like I’ve done many times before.

I made sure to set off O2 malfunction on my phone before I hopped into the vent, quickly coming out of Shields before running with the rest of the group. When I managed to report Orange’s body, I watched his corpse float millions of light years away in the distance.

Itaru was not the Imposter.

I am, and I’m going to win, no matter who died.

#chigasaki itaru #itaru chigasaki #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #a3! one shots #act! addict! actors! one shots #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #itaru x reader #a3! itaru #a3 itaru

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