#unexpected & irrevocably

[jacksintention]

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[whosscruffylooking]

Militiae Species Amor Est II

Militiae species amor est - "Love is a kind of war."

Re-read Part I Now!

a/n: if you would like to be added to a taglist, please let me know in the comments!

warnings: // a small threat of violence is made between Iris and her partner, but no physical contact is made. canon typical violence.

word count: 4.2k

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You step cautiously into the grand halls of the estate, the place you once roamed as a little servant girl, where your bare feet had once echoed softly against the cold marble. The air is thick with the weight of memories, each one pressing heavily against your chest. This was the house where you had grown up, where you had once been invisible, and where your life had irrevocably intertwined with his.

A voice pulls you from your thoughts. It rings out, familiar and poised, yet carrying a tension you haven’t heard before.

“Iris. It has been quite some time.”

You turn sharply, your breath catching as you face Lucilla, the mistress of this house—and the mother of the man you’ve spent a lifetime aching for. She stands before you, as elegant and commanding as you remember, her beauty untouched by the years. For a moment, you falter, caught between the awe she still inspires and the fury simmering just beneath your surface. But there’s no time to linger on reverence. Not now.

“We need to help Lucius escape,” you say, your voice steady despite the fire raging in your chest.

Lucilla’s expression hardens, her posture as composed as ever. “You are in no position to plot something like this. An engaged woman. A woman of low birth who has risen to a place of promise.” She steps closer, her gaze piercing, as if to drive the point deeper. “It isn’t safe for you.”

Her words land like a blow. You bristle, your hands curling into fists at your sides as anger floods through you. “You mean to insult me? When you know—when you must know—that I have loved your son since childhood?” Your voice rises, trembling with the weight of years left unspoken. “Do you truly believe that I could ever forget him? Forget the way we laughed, the way we cried, the way you sent him away as if he were nothing but an inconvenience? I have not had a single night of peaceful rest since that day! Not one!”

Lucilla’s carefully composed mask cracks, but you don’t stop. The words pour out, sharp and unrelenting. “And you? As his mother, do you feel nothing? No anguish, no torment? Or do you simply find it easier to look away, to let him suffer alone? Now he’s here—he’s here, Lucilla—and you expect me to sit back, to watch him fight the same fight that took his father from him? With no attempt to save him, no attempt to shield him from even more pain?”

The silence that follows feels deafening. For a moment, Lucilla looks at you as though she’s been struck. Her lips part, trembling with words that won’t come. Then, to your shock, her face crumples, and tears begin to spill down her cheeks.

She crosses the space between you in an instant, wrapping you in an embrace that is both unexpected and suffocating. Her voice shakes as she speaks. “I subjected one child to a life of pain. I—I couldn’t bear to see you suffer the same. Don’t you see? I’ve only ever wanted you to find peace, Iris. Contentment. That’s why—” She pulls back, her hands gripping your shoulders tightly. “That’s why when Caius’ father approached me, I agreed. I thought he could give you the life you deserved, one free of sorrow. I never meant to make you feel betrayed.”

You push her hands away, stepping back as the weight of her confession settles over you like a leaden cloak. “Peace?” Your voice is bitter, sharp as broken glass. “Do you truly believe I could ever find peace without him? All I ever wanted was your son. Not your pity. Not a life designed to ease your guilt.”

Tears well in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. You straighten your spine, your voice unwavering. “If you truly cared about me, you would have sent me with him. Instead, you left us both to live lives filled with nothing but longing and regret. So save your excuses, Lucilla. If you truly care now, then tell me—” Your voice hardens, each word a command. “Tell me the plan to rescue Lucius.”

And she does. Through trembling breaths and tear-filled eyes, Lucilla tells you the plan—how her husband, Acacius, will orchestrate Lucius’s escape from the prison. She explains the carefully laid steps, each one steeped in risk, each one reliant on precision. But there’s one missing piece.

“Someone needs to warn him,” she says, her voice wavering as she meets your gaze. “He has to know what’s coming, or he’ll resist. He won’t trust it.”

The moment hangs heavy between you, her words an unspoken plea. You don’t hesitate.

“I’ll do it,” you say firmly, the fire in your chest burning brighter now. “I’ll warn him.”

Lucilla’s eyes widen, her lips parting as if to protest, but you shake your head, cutting her off before she can speak.

“No one else knows him like I do,” you continue. “He’ll listen to me. He’ll trust me.”

For a moment, Lucilla studies you, her expression a war between doubt and something that almost looks like hope. Then, finally, she nods, her shoulders slumping under the weight of her choice.

“Be careful,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. But you’re already turning away, your mind focused on one thing: reaching Lucius.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The corridors of the barracks stretch before you like an endless void, every shadow a whisper of your guilt, every creak of the stone beneath your feet a reminder of what you stand to lose. Wrapped in a dark cloak, the cool air bites at your skin, but the ache in your chest burns hotter. You cling to the cover of night as you make your way toward Ravi, a gladiator-turned-medic who once saved soldiers from the edge of death. Tonight, you hope he’ll save you in a different way.

When you reach his room, you knock softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Ravi.”

The door creaks open, his wary eyes scanning the hall before they settle on you. “What are you doing here?” he hisses. “You shouldn’t be anywhere near this place.”

“I won’t tell you the details,” you reply quickly, your voice trembling. “If anyone questions you, I don’t want you to lie on my behalf. All I ask is that you point me toward Hanno—let me speak with him privately.”

Ravi’s expression hardens, torn between caution and compassion. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he nods. “You shouldn’t do this,” he murmurs, but he leads you through the labyrinthine halls. When he stops outside a cell, his voice is heavy with warning. “He’s in here. Be quick.”

Ravi pushes the door open slightly, just enough for the man inside to hear. “Someone is here to see you, Hanno,” he announces.

Lucius turns at the sound of his name, his face hardening the moment he sees you. His jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing before he looks away sharply. “I have nothing to say to her,” he bites out, his voice rough, almost broken.

Your heart twists painfully at his words, but you nod at Ravi, signaling for him to let you in anyway. He hesitates, but when he sees the determination in your eyes, he steps back, locking the door behind you as you slip into the dimly lit cell.

Lucius stands with his back to you, his hands balled into fists at his sides. His silence is deafening, but you don’t let it deter you. You step closer, the ache in your chest swelling with every step. Tears sting your eyes as you finally find the words you’ve been rehearsing in your mind since the moment you decided to come here.

“I cannot begin to express how sorry I am,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “For how I treated you. For what I said.”

He doesn’t move, but you can see the slight tension in his shoulders. You press on, desperate to reach him.

“I never should have assumed you would return to this place—to the pain, to the life you’ve fought so hard to escape—and risk everything for the very place that destroyed your family. It was selfish of me to ask, selfish to think I had that right. I suppose these emotions, these feelings I’ve tried so hard to bury, have clouded my judgment.”

His breathing slows, the air between you thick with words left unsaid. You take another step, your voice breaking now.

“But know this, Lucius: you are far more than just a gladiator. Even before I saw you in those cursed games, you were so much more to me. You always have been. You were the boy who gave me his last piece of bread when I had nothing. The boy who made me laugh when the world felt too heavy. The boy whose soul captured mine long before I knew what love even was.”

His shoulders slump slightly, and though he doesn’t turn, you see his hand tremble. The silence stretches, heavy with everything you’re too afraid to ask. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, raw with pain.

“And yet you stood there, questioning who I was,” he murmurs. “Doubting the choices I made to survive. Do you know what it’s like to have someone you love look at you as though you’re a stranger?”

The words cut deep, sharp as any blade, and tears spill down your cheeks. You move closer, desperate to bridge the distance, to close the chasm that has grown between you.

“I was wrong,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I was so wrong. But I swear to you, Lucius, I have never stopped seeing the boy you were. And I will never stop loving the man you’ve become.”

Lucius stares at you, his eyes swimming with emotions too tangled to name. The air between you crackles, heavy with unspoken words and the years of longing that have built into this single, fraught moment. You search his face for a sign that your words have reached him, that the wall he’s built is beginning to crumble.

Lucius's gaze burns into yours, his expression a tempest of anguish and desire, before he moves. His hands are on you in an instant, rough but careful, as though he's afraid you'll vanish if he doesn't hold tight enough. He presses you against the cold, damp wall of the cell, the chill of the stone seeping through your cloak and biting into your skin. It's grounding, sharp against the heat that erupts between you as his lips claim yours.

The kiss is everything you've imagined and nothing like it all at once-wild, desperate, and unrelenting. His hands frame your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks as if to memorize the feel of you. His lips are firm, demanding, pouring years of suppressed longing into the kiss. You can feel his ragged breaths mingling with yours, and the faint taste of salt from your shared tears lingers between you.

Your hands find his chest, trembling as they trace over the worn fabric of his tunic and the hard planes of his body. His heart is pounding beneath your palms, as wild and erratic as your own. When your fingers curl into the fabric to pull him closer, he growls low in his throat—a sound that sends a shiver racing down your spine.

The cold wall presses unyieldingly against your back as he leans into you, his body a solid, unmovable force. The contrast of cold stone and his scorching heat sets your senses ablaze. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as if he could somehow fuse the two of you together, and the pressure of his touch ignites a fire that consumes you whole.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and you both struggle to catch your breath. His lips hover near yours, as though the distance is too much to bear, and his voice, rough and low, brushes over your skin.

 "Do you understand now?" he murmurs, his breath warm against your lips. "Do you see what you've done to me? You've been the only thing keeping me alive, Iris. Even when I hated the world, I still loved you."

Your tears spill freely as you clutch at his tunic, your voice trembling. "I see it, Lucius. I see it, and I feel it, because l've loved you just as fiercely.”

He tilts your chin up, his dark eyes softening, and his thumb brushes tenderly across your jaw. "Then let there be no more fear," he whispers before capturing your lips again.

This kiss is softer but no less consuming, filled with a desperate hope that perhaps the two of you, against all odds, can still claim the love that's been waiting for so long.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The sun blazes mercilessly as the crowd fills the arena, their cheers deafening and bloodthirsty. Your seat offers a clear view of the sand-covered pit, where the fighters enter with stoic faces and heavy chains. Among them is Lucius. Even in the sea of bodies, your eyes find him instantly.

He walks with his head held high, his shoulders squared. You can see the fire burning in him now—a determination that wasn’t there before, knowing that people are ready to rescue him. The weight of hope, of knowing freedom waits just beyond the reach of this hellish stage, has reignited something in him. Yet, the sight of him under the watchful eyes of guards and the jeering crowd still twists your stomach with dread.

Your fiancé, Caius, sits beside you, oblivious to the storm raging within you. His hand rests possessively on your arm as if to remind everyone—and perhaps himself—of who you belong to.

When the fight begins, Lucius is relentless. His movements are sharper, faster, more focused than ever before. You watch in awe as he disarms one opponent and dodges another’s blade with a grace that feels almost otherworldly. But it’s not enough to calm your nerves. Every strike, every blow he lands only tightens the knot in your chest.

And then it happens. A spear slices across his shoulder, leaving a vivid trail of crimson in its wake. He stumbles, his hand instinctively going to the wound, and for a moment, your world stops.

You stand without thinking, your breath catching in your throat. “Lucius,” you whisper, though the name escapes like a prayer rather than a call.

Caius turns sharply to you, his grip on your arm tightening. “What are you doing?” he hisses, his voice low but sharp. “Sit down, Iris.”

But you can’t. Your heart is pounding too loudly, drowning out his words. All you can see is the blood staining Lucius’s tunic, the grimace of pain that briefly flashes across his face before he forces himself back into the fight.

“Iris!” Caius snaps, his voice rising now. “This is unseemly. People are watching!”

You don’t care. The moment the fight ends and Lucius is escorted out, you wrench free from Caius’s grasp and run. His angry protests fade behind you as your sandals slap against the stone corridors leading to the medic chambers.

When you burst through the door, Ravi looks up in surprise. Lucius sits on a stool, blood dripping from his shoulder as Ravi prepares to clean the wound. His gaze snaps to you, and for a moment, he freezes, the stoic mask slipping to reveal something raw and unguarded.

“What are you doing here?” Ravi asks, his tone filled with warning.

But Lucius speaks first, his voice low and strained. “Iris.” Your name on his lips feels like both a question and an anchor.

You cross the room in a rush, ignoring Ravi’s protests and Lucius’s raised brow. “Let me,” you say softly, reaching for the cloth in Ravi’s hand. Your fingers tremble as you press it against the wound, but you don’t flinch.

Lucius watches you, his gaze piercing. “You shouldn’t be here,” he murmurs, but there’s no anger in his voice—only concern.

“And you shouldn’t be out there,” you reply, your voice breaking. “But here we are.”

His hand rises, hesitating for a moment before it brushes against yours, smearing your skin with his blood. “I’ll be fine,” he says, though his eyes betray him.

“No, you won’t,” you whisper, tears slipping down your cheeks. “Not if I lose you.”

Ravi clears his throat awkwardly, stepping back. “I’ll give you two a moment,” he mutters, leaving the room.

Lucius exhales shakily, his gaze never leaving yours. “Iris, you have to be careful. If Caius—”

“Let Caius think what he will,” you interrupt, your voice trembling with conviction. “I won’t sit by and do nothing while you suffer.”

In the space of a breath, his restraint snaps. "Damn Caius," he murmurs, his voice low and hoarse, just before his lips capture yours.

The kiss is wild and desperate, like a clash of wills—a battle neither of you is willing to lose.

His hands tighten around your waist as yours tangle in his hair, the metallic taste of blood faint on his lips, a reminder of the wounds he's endured. He kisses you with the fervor of a man who's fought too long to deny what he feels, each movement urgent and unyielding.

He lifts you onto the nearby table, the rough wood cold beneath your legs as papers and tools clatter to the ground, forgotten. You gasp against his mouth, but he doesn't falter, his body pressing into yours as if to prove something-to you, to himself, to the world that's tried to keep you apart.

Outside, the sound of footsteps halts, followed by a frustrated sigh. Ravi's voice mutters something inaudible, and you know he's standing there, trying to give you privacy while also likely cursing your recklessness.

Lucius pulls back just enough to look at you, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the narrow space between. "This is madness," he whispers, his voice rough and thick with emotion.

"Then let it be madness," you reply, your voice just as unsteady. Your hands trail down to his face, cupping his jaw as your thumbs brush over his cheekbones. "Because l'd rather have this moment than a lifetime of silence."

His lips crash against yours again, the kiss even fiercer than before, as though he's pouring all the words he can't say into the connection. His hands linger around your thighs, gradually pushing the hem of your dress higher and higher up your leg.

“Lucius, I—” Ravi’s voice cuts through the haze, and you pull back abruptly, your chest heaving.

Lucius turns toward the door, his body instinctively shifting to shield you from Ravi’s view, though it’s already too late. Ravi stands in the doorway, his face a mixture of disbelief and exasperation.

“I left you alone for mere minutes,” Ravi mutters, crossing his arms as his eyes dart between the two of you.

Heat rises to your cheeks, but you hold your ground, refusing to shrink beneath his gaze. “I was helping,” you say, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside you.

“And clearly you’ve been very thorough in your assistance,” Ravi replies, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Lucius steps forward, his voice low but firm. “Enough, Ravi. You’ve said your piece.”

Ravi exhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If anyone finds out about this, it’s not just you two who’ll pay the price. Keep that in mind.” He turns on his heel, muttering something under his breath as he leaves.

The door clicks shut, and silence settles over the room once more. Lucius looks at you, his eyes clouded with both regret and longing. “I’ll deal with him,” he says softly, though his hand lingers at your side, as if reluctant to let you go.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The door slams shut behind you as you step into the quiet of your home, the night air still clinging to your skin. Your heart is pounding in your chest, adrenaline still coursing through your veins from the events that transpired just moments ago. You barely have a chance to steady your breath before Caius appears in the hallway, his sharp gaze locking onto you as he takes in the sight of you—disheveled, hair slightly tousled, your dress still crinkled from the tension of the night.

“Where have you been?” His voice is low, controlled, but there’s an edge to it, an undeniable undertone of suspicion that you cannot ignore.

You swallow, forcing yourself to meet his eyes, a familiar lie already forming on your lips. “I was just out for a walk,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant, but there’s a slight quiver in your voice that betrays you.

Caius takes a slow step forward, his eyes narrowing, scanning you with unsettling precision. He glances down at your dress, and for a split second, his gaze lingers on a small stain of blood near the hem. His face hardens.

“That doesn’t look like the mark of a walk,” he says, voice tight with suspicion. “Where did you get this from?”

You freeze. The blood—it wasn’t from you, but from the hurried touch you had shared with Lucius. His words echo in your mind, Damn Caius. You can feel the weight of that kiss, the dangerous closeness, and the desperation in his touch. It lingers in your skin, like a brand that you can’t erase.

“Nothing happened,” you lie again, your heart racing in your chest. You want to scream, to tell him the truth, but fear clamps down on your throat. “I helped Ravi again, like I used to.”

Caius isn’t fooled. His eyes flicker with recognition, and before you can take another breath, he’s stepping toward you, his hand gripping your wrist tightly. “Tell me the truth,” he demands, his voice low and threatening. “You’ve been with him, haven’t you? The Eagle of Rome.”

The mention of Lucius sends a shock of panic through you, freezing you in place. No—you try to deny it, but the truth is already written across your face. “I haven’t—” you start, but the words falter. You try to pull your wrist free, but his grip tightens, pulling you closer.

“Don’t lie to me,” he growls, his voice a razor’s edge, the anger seeping through each word. His fingers are like iron, digging into your skin as he pulls you toward him. “I saw the way you looked at him in the stadium.”

Your breath catches in your throat, your pulse quickening as the weight of his accusation hits. Lucius—the name lingers like a forbidden prayer. “I was helping all of the warriors today. I promise you, I didn’t even touch him,” you snap, your voice shaking with a mixture of anger and guilt, but the words feel hollow, like a lie you want to believe but can’t.

“Stop!” Caius interrupts, his voice rising now, each word thick with rising fury. “You think I don’t know what’s going on? That I haven’t seen how you’ve been sneaking around? How you’ve been lying to me?”

His words hit you like a slap. In an instant, his frustration boils over, his anger flaring in his eyes. He moves toward you, forceful and sharp, and you stumble back into the wall, trying to escape his grasp. You gasp, your heart pounding as you try to steady yourself.

But before you can recover, Caius is right there, his face inches from yours, his breath ragged with fury. “You have no idea what kind of reproach you’re bringing against our family,” he spits, his voice dangerously quiet now. “Your actions make us a mockery. The choices you’ve made—make us look like fools.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, your heart aching in your chest. His words cut deeper than you expected, and guilt rises in your throat. He’s right—this has always been the choice, between him and Lucius. Between duty and love. But you couldn’t let go—not when Lucius needed you, not when you were the only one who could do something for him.

“Let me go, Caius,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, as if asking for the smallest mercy. “Please.”

But there’s no mercy in his eyes now. Only betrayal, and the realization that whatever it is that’s come between you, whatever feelings you’ve tried to bury, are on the cusp of release. He stares at you, and for a moment, you think you see something softer in his gaze—but it’s fleeting. He lets out a jagged breath, his grip still tight on your wrist.

“I never wanted this,” he mutters, almost to himself. “But I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t hurt.”

You don’t know what to say to that, because you feel the same way. Every word from his lips is a weight pressing you into the wall, and yet, you can’t escape it.

“Clean yourself up,” Caius says, stepping back. His eyes linger on you, raw and unrelenting. “And can’t stand the sight of you right now.”

Caius turns away, his shoulders tense with unresolved anger, and the silence between you stretches, thick with unspoken truths. As he walks out, leaving you standing alone in the dimly lit room, you feel the weight of the choice you’ve made—and the painful certainty that nothing will ever be the same again.

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tag list: @willowpains

[phantom-0-writer]

Tim stepped cleanly inside the room, and carefully shut the door behind him after checking if anyone was in the hallway. “What are you-” Danny started confused. Tim was acting very unusually right now. 

“I’m Red Robin.” He said.

Danny stared at him for a few seconds. Tim had expected him to be more shocked, Danny wasn’t like Damian and Bruce in the aspect of holding back his reactions. He watched Danny carefully and noticed that he wasn’t even surprised at all. 

His shoulder shifted a little, and a look passed in his eyes. He was relieved. That didn’t make any sense unless, “You knew.”

It made an irrevocable amount of sense. The stupid excuses he didn’t question, the easy slide bys on things that didn’t add up. Tim had wondered why Danny never brought it up with any of them. He was always quick to call bullshit on things but conveniently never on their mission cover ups. 

“Yeah.” He admitted quietly, findling with the small screwdriver in his hand.

“Why didn’t you say something before?” Tim asked. He felt a little ridiculous about it all now, “How long have you known?” Tim’s mind went back to the dining room argument from last night and he rolled through it in his head. “Wait, Jason knows you know, doesn’t he?” Tim blurted, “That why he- why didn’t I realize this sooner?” 

“I mean I know you guys can’t just tell whoever you want. It’s a secret identity for a reason. You guys didn’t want me to know. So I acted like I didn’t.” Danny shrugged. “I figured it out when Dick and Bruce were in Amity, and yeah, Jason knows. He also knows I’m Phantom. Cass knows too- not the Phantom thing. Or maybe she does, I don't know.”

“You knew the whole time?” Tim balked. All the effort they put in to hide the proof before he came, and he knew the whole time. Wait, did he say- “You’re Phantom?” Tim practically yelled. 

Danny blinked at him, “I thought you knew that.” He pointed the end of the screw driver at him, “Why were you guys so okay with him being in the cave then?” 

“We thought he was Thomas Jr.” Tim threw his hands up, rethinking his entire career choice. “I mean, yeah he was in Amity with you, but we figured it was like a guardian ghost thing since the time Dick met him that one time when you got lost or something he was the one- holy shit, you were following them the whole time weren’t you.” 

“You thought Thomas was Phantom?” Danny laughed, finding this ridiculous. 

“Isn’t that how supernatural stuff works or something. Like, you guys are linked because you were switched with each other and because you were with the family he was supposed to be with so he turned into a protective spirit to, like, watch over you or something.” 

Danny's look of appalment only deepened as Tim continued explaining. “Who told you that?” 

“I mean we just kinda figured it out ourselves based on past experiences.” 

“Past experience?” 

“With supernatural stuff the right conclusion is always the most unexpected and slightly irrational one.”

Danny snorted at that. “That is a really bad rule of thumb.” 

“Right, then explain how you’re the ghost Phantom when you’re also human and alive Danny.” Tim crossed his arms. He was trying really hard not to over analyze that right. Did that mean Danny was dead or that Phantom was alive? How could he be both? Well according to Schrödinger's theory- not now Tim. He should make a new file for this later and then he’d think about it. Alone. In his room where he could properly freak out over this. 

“Touche.” Danny clearly thought this was funny so no need to put a damper on the mood. Especially after everything that already happened. 

This information changed a lot of things. Tim would have to refer this back to the Fenton-Masters case. What about Damian? Did he know Danny was Phantom? Probably not, considering none of them had, apparently aside from Jason. It would be almost impossible for Tim to not tell him that since they were supposed to be working it together. Tim wasn’t sure how he would take the information. Not only that, but gave a new scope to the vultures that had attacked and the monster that had showed up from the pits. 

Later. File. Many lists. 

“Do you want to come to Mt. Justice?” Tim asked him. 

“Like the museum?”

“Yes and no. It’s also the Young Justice base. It’s top secret and no ones supposed to know about it.” 

“What! Then why are you telling me?” 

“Do you wanna go or not?” 

“Is that even allowed?”

“Definitely not.”

Danny raised a brow. “Then we can’t go?”

“It’s far but we can just take the jet. It’s like 30 minutes tops. We could take the zeta-tubes but then Bruce would find out you took the zeta-tubes and then we’d be fucked. Well, mostly me. But still.” 

“Wouldn’t he find out we took the jet then?”

“He wouldn’t know you were on the jet. It’s not weird for me to be going there since it is my team.”

“What if we get in trouble?”

“We’ll only get in trouble if we get found out.” Tim shrugged, “Do you want to go or not?”

Danny considered it for a moment before a grin tipped his face. “Yeah.”

“Sweet.” Tim reached for his phone only not realizing he didn’t have it. “I’ll let them know we’ll be coming around. They’re all already there. Tell Alfred you’ll be going out with some friends and then come meet me at Drake Manor.”

Danny seemed to embrace the situation now, forgoing his earlier hesitance. “I’ll wrap up some stuff. I should do breakfast too so Alfred doesn’t think anything is up. I’ll give you a heads up before I’m out the door. I’ll take my bike.” 

“Take the long way round since the Manor’s in the opposite direction of the city.” 

Danny nodded. “What about you?” he asked. 

“No one’s gonna ask if I go in costume.” Tim shrugged, “Speaking of costume…” Tim turned to where he knew the wardrobe to be, “Let me see your clothes.” He opened the double doors in the bathroom where the closest would be and blinked at the largely empty room. “Where are the rest of your clothes?” He asked. Danny looked confused by that, “Oh,” Tim realized, “You used a second closet. Smart. Is it in the lab?” 

 “No, Tim.” He said, pacing his words, “These are all my clothes.” 

“Oh. Why?”

“This is a normal amount of clothes to own.” 

“But it’s like barely covering a fourth of your closet. And that’s only because everything is so spread apart.” 

“That's because the closest is the size of a literal barn. Why on Earth would I need that many clothes?”

“I thought Bruce gave you an allowance?” 

“He did.” 

“Is it not enough?” 

Danny balked at him. “Did you ask to see my closet just to make fun of me?” He huffed. 

“I’m not making fun, I’m concerned.” Tim said genuinely. Did Danny not feel comfortable asking for things? It must be because they were keeping so many secrets and he thought they didn’t trust him. This clearly ran deeper than Tim originally thought. 

Danny shoved his hand in Tim’s face, pushing him back. “Can we get back to the point?”

“Right.”

--- later ---

“Give it back!” 

“No, I had it first!

“Nu-uh. I just put it down for like two seconds when you grabbed it.” 

“You were gone for the whole round.” 

“Where’s the controller you had before?” 

“It died.” 

“There's a bunch of other ones in the drawer.” 

“You can have one from there, then.” 

“No! I want the one I had back.” Tim insisted. 

“No.” Danny moved so he couldn’t reach it. 

“That controller is player 1, so give it back.” 

“Exactly why I’m not giving it back.” 

“Why would you be player 1?”

Danny looked so smug at that, “If you recall, I’m actually older than you which gives me sovereign right over player 1.” He said pushing Tim away. 

“That doesn’t even mean anything!” 

“Ah, to be young and naive.” 

“Fuck you.” Tim said, tackling him off the sofa. 

“What on God’s green Earth is going on here?” Cass asked, returning from their small intermission for snacks. 

Bart rushed up to join her. “Is Danny winning?” 

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No you're not! Give it back.” 

“Get off me.”

Kon was the last to come onto the site. “Guys.” He said seriously, “Superman’s coming. And there’s someone with him.”

Tim stopped trying to strangle Danny, sharing a look of panic with his team. 

“So?” Danny asked, confused.

“Danny, you're not supposed to be here.” Tim hissed at him. “Shit. How do we hide you from Superman?” 

“It was nice knowing you.” Kon said with a sarcastic smile. 

“How far is he?” Cassie asked. 

“He’ll be here in like two minutes.” 

“I’ll hide under the couch, he probably won’t look under there.” Danny offered. 

“He can hear your heartbeat.” 

Danny smiled widely. “I got it covered.” He said, pulling himself into the small space.

Bart giggled in excitement. 

“How-”

Kon gave a silent sign that Superman was here, sending a confused look towards the couch Danny had slid under. Tim’s phone buzzed with a notification. 

Just then, “Konner?” Clark called from the Mission Room. 

The team shared a silent look. They’d just have to trust Danny had this covered. 

“We’re in here.” Bart called even though Clark would already know that.

Tim put up two fingers to silently ask Kon if there was someone else with him. He received an affirmative. This was a horrible day for prospective teammate introductions. 

“Hey guys.” Clark smiled, then confused “Why are you sitting on the floor Red Robin?” He asked.

“I was checking something.” Tim said, picking up the controller Danny had been forced to abandon. 

“Oh, okay.” He nodded, not questioning it further. “I’m glad all of you are already here.”

“Are we getting a mission?” Cassie asked. 

“Sort of.” Clark said, excited. Then in Kryptonian, “ Come .” He said to someone behind him they couldn’t see. Tim couldn’t hear any footsteps. And he found out it was because the person Clark was introducing them to could fly. And Tim also found out that Clark had spoken in kryptonian because this new person was a kryptonian. One that Tim had never met before. “This is Kara. She’s my cousin. The entire situation isn’t all clear yet but as it stands we understand that her pod, while launched at the same time as mine, was caught in an asteroid belt and was only left free recently, when it landed near the Fortress of Solitude.” Clark turned to Kara and introduced them to her in Kryptonian and then added, “ Tim and Kon-el speak Kryptonian which is why I thought you would be more comfortable here instead of the Watch Tower. Though, Kon’s could use some work. ” He teased. 

“Hey, my Kryptonian is fine.” 

“Why don’t you try saying that in Kryptonian?” 

“ My fine is Kryptonian .” Kon said confidently. 

Clark laughed and Kara looked at Kon like he grew a second head. 

“I don’t even speak Kryptonian and I could tell that didn’t sound right.” Cassie laughed. 

Tim took his turn to introduce himself to the nervous and quite blonde. “ I’m Red Robin. ” He pointed to the symbol on his chest. “ It’s nice to meet you. ” He put out a hand for her to shake but Kara just stared at it. Maybe they don’t have hand shakes on Krypton. Since Clark had grown up on Earth he didn’t really know much about the customs of his home planet for them to have learned it beforehand. 

“ Nice to meet you. I am Kara Zor-el, daughter of Captain Zor-El and the Lady Alura. ” Then she stuck out her hand like Tim had. When Tim took it to shake Kara seemed surprised by it. 

“ You’ll be in good hands here, Kara. I’ll be back to check on you later but if you need anything Kon or any of the others can get a hold of me for you, okay ?” Clark said softly trying to gauge if she’d actually be okay here without him. 

Kara started at Clark for a moment like she was processing what he’d said, “ Why will anyone need to hold you? ” 

“Oh.” Clark pondered it, “ It’s an Earth phrase. It just means that they’ll send me a message or contact me if you feel like you want me to come back. ” 

Kara took another pause to process and then, “ I see. ” And does a hand gesture that Tim didn’t understand. And neither did Clark. No one commented on it. 

After Clark left the atmosphere of the room went stale. Danny was still under the couch and they weren’t sure how willing Kara would be to not tell Clark about it. But they couldn’t leave Kara. And Tim’s phone was buzzing with notifications that he did not want to check because he recognized the haptics of the health app he had. The one that had everyone, including Danny’s, vitals. Danny, who Tim was pretty sure had just stopped his heart for the entire duration of Clark being here. Which had been a very long duration.

Kara looked between them, confused. “ Is there something meant to be done? ” 

“ How’s your english, Kara?” Tim asked.

“ Only a little . Kal-El said it will take time .” 

“ Langage harding learn. ” Kon nodded. Kara lipped his words back to herself trying to make sense of it. 

“What do we do about our stowaway?” Cass whispered to Tim. She didn’t speak Kryptnoian, but she understood enough to know what Tim had asked. 

“I could dash him out. Maybe we could spend the day together at the mall and then we’ll be best friends and then he won’t want to hang with Tim anymore because he’d rather hang out with me because I’m so much more fun.” Bart said all in one breath, his words afterwards speeding up too fast for Tim to make any sense of. 

“She’ll know something’s up. We need to test her loyalty.” Tim strategized while Kon attempted to keep Kara in conversation. 

“How? And why haven't any of the supes been able to hear him yet?” Cassie asked. 

Bart took a pause on his earlier ramblings to make Tim’s life more difficult. “Oh it’s because he’s not breathing. Isn’t that so cool.” 

Cassie shot Tim an alarmed look. “He’s a meta.” Tim said off handedly, “Can we focus?” 

“Are you aware that your brother might be suffocating to death? In fact, we may need to hide a corpse and I sure as hell would love to hear how you're going to explain that away at family dinner.” 

“Oh, don’t worry Danny’s fine.” Bart said flippantly. “Danny, if you can hear us, make the room one degree colder.” 

Tim couldn’t feel anything but Kon and Kara did. Kara eyed the room confused about the change but fortunately she didn’t comment on it. 

“So cool.” Bart whistled, lapping the room. 

“Convinced yet?” Tim asked Cassie.

“He’s an ice meta how- you know what, I don’t want to know. So how are we going to test our warden?” 

The lounge room was decorated to look like a regular living room, including hanging “family pictures” on the wall. Everyone on the wall was in costume, for security reasons, but they were actual nice pictures of the team and their mentors. Tim pulled out a batarang from his pocket, and played around with it for a while, talking aloud about random things. It only needed to sound like a real sentence since Kara couldn’t understand what he was saying anyway. Then the batarang “slipped” out of his hand landing right in one of the larger framed pictures. The impact was loud and the glass of the frame shattered and spilled on the floor. 

Cassie didn’t have to fake her flinch in surprise at that, turning to Tim alarmed. Tim adding to the performance acted shocked. Kara and Kon obviously hadn’t missed the commotion and their conversation stopped. Kara looked at the destruction of the frame, analyzing Tim and Cassie’s reaction.  

“Dude.” Bart turned to him wide-eyed, stopping in his tracks, “We’re so dead.” Kara didn’t speak english, sure, but the dread in Bart’s voice was obvious enough. 

“Why did you do that?” Cassie scolded, “That was Red Tornado's favorite.” 

Tim held his head in his hands dramatically, then he let realization dawn on his features. Slowly he turned to face Kara. “ I’ll get in really big trouble if Kal-El or anyone finds out. I can hide it, but you won’t tell will you? ” He made himself sound really worried. 

“ Won’t it be noticed? The image is large .” Kara asked. She was beginning to share their concern on her face, but that didn’t necessarily mean that she would keep her mouth shut about it.

“ Clean up can. ” Kon said in a reassuring tone. Kara looked at him sideways, clearly confused. 

“ They don’t really come in here often so we can pass it off. But you can’t tell. ” Tim told her. 

Kara looked like she was having a hard time understanding him as well. An easier time than with Kon for obvious reasons but still not an easy time. Tim couldn’t understand why since he had made sure their Kryptonian was in perfect condition. “ Pass it off? ” She echoed, confused. 

Kara must not have understood the phrase.“ Pretend like it didn’t happen .” Tim explained. 

She thought about it and nodded. “ An Earth phrase? ” 

“ Yes. ” 

Kara didn’t answer right away and Tim wasn’t sure if it was because she was still deciphering what he’d said or if she was thinking about telling. “ I will not tell Kal-El or his associates since no one was hurt and it was only a minor incident .” Cassie and Bart had already cleaned up most of the mess why Tim talked to Kara. Tim had made sure to hit the frame so only the glass would be shattered and the actual picture was mostly unharmed except for the small tear in the corner. That would be easy enough to cover up. 

Kara's body language was stiff and she was watching everything very carefully. It wasn’t strange since she had been left with a group of strangers in a new environment and she didn’t speak the local language. She seemed around Tim’s age or maybe a little older. Kara was meant to land on Earth with a mission to watch and protect Clark. This implied that she was of a status and position to receive missions. This meant she would work by a set of rules and report to a supervisor. The supervisor was likely Clark who was most likely to take responsibility for her for a variety of reasons. 

Cassie gave Tim a raised eyebrow to ask how it was going as she walked away to dispose of the glass shards. 

It would be a gamble. A deadly one. But if Tim made it look like Danny being here wasn’t that big of a breach of the rules he could convince her to keep it to herself. He shared a look with Kon. 

“ I’m really thankful, Kara. ” Tim says, smiling. He pulls out his phone and texts Cassie and Bart their half of the plan. “ We can show you around the rest of the base. Would you like to do that? ”

“ Okay .” 

“ Room fun lounge after work. Play TV on games .” Kon said. 

Kara stared at him.

“How about I do the talking?” Tim put a hand on Kon’s shoulder. 

“Why? I’m doing so good.” Kon said genuinely. Tim doesn’t respond to that. 

The tour lasted minutes and Tim made sure to bide their time well so Cassie, Bart and Danny could be fully settled in before they returned. It would take a while for Danny’s heart rate to return to normal, and it would be better that he was all there before they tried to pull this off. 

Tim checked his phone when they were nearing the end of the tour. Cassie had texted him they were good on their end. 

“ Let’s go back to meet the others. They don’t speak Kryptonian but we can translate for you so don’t worry. ” Tim said. Kara seemed nice, it was the circumstances that were a bit stressful. But that didn’t mean they should let her feel left out.

“ This is your team ?” Kara asked, following Tim back to the lounge room.

“ Yes we do missions together sometimes. When we’re not working we spend time at the base because we’re friends. ” 

“ It is nice to have friends. ” Kara nodded. 

“ Did you do missions with your friends on Krypton? ” Tim asked. Maybe he could gauge what her position had been to see how she would react. 

“ Only practice. We did not graduate from training yet. ” 

“ Going what’s there ?” Kon asked. Tim had no idea what he was saying. 

“ What dialect does he speak? ” Kara asked Tim. “ I cannot understand it. ” 

 “ We learned the same Kryptonian, Kon just doesn’t practice. ” Tim laughed. Kon understood enough that he elbowed him. “ Are there dialects in Kryptonian? ” 

“ Many. You and Kal-El speak very… proper. ” She said sheepishly. “ No one speaks that way where I am from. Only in important meetings with outsiders .” Then she paused sadly, “ Mother always said it was important to learn but I did not listen. ” Tim had figured Kara spoke so rigidly because she was nervous or shy. This explained why she was having such a hard time understanding them. 

They reached the lounge to Cassie and Danny locked deeply in a game of rock, paper, scissors. Danny had pulled his hood back up and was wearing his cowl from earlier. He had picked one of the older models that covered most of his face until the end of his nose and past his cheekbones. Danny shot scissors at Cassie, beating her paper. Bart cheered loudly, throwing his hands in the air and Cassie groaned in defeat. Danny cackled as he took the last cookie. 

“Hey, D. When’d you get here?” Tim asked for the sole purpose of silently telling the others to not call Danny by his real name.

With a mouth full of cookie, “A while ago. Who’s this?” He asked, gesturing his head to Kara. 

Tim made wide gestures and spoke clearly in english so Kara could pick up what he was saying. It would be important for her to learn. “This is Kara, she’s Superboy’s cousin.”

“I thought she was his aunt?” Cassie asked. 

Danny didn’t look nervous, fortunately, and smiled easily at Kara. Then to Tim’s surprise, “ Nice to meet you. ” he said in perfect kryptonian. 

“ He speaks as well. ” Kara commented. 

“You can speak Kryptonian, too?” Kon asked. 

“Duh.” Bart answered. 

“Dead languages are my speciality.” Danny said pointedly. Bart giggled at that. 

“ Should we build a hole by playing a game? ” Danny asked, moving on the couch to give everyone else more room. 

“ Build a hole? ” Tim laughed, “What?”

Kara looked at Danny surprised, “ You know of that? ” She asked excitedly, her eyes lighting up. 

“It’s a phrase, basically like “break the ice’.” Danny answered, then for Bart and Cassie, “Do you guys know any games we can play?” 

“ You speak very well .” Kara complimented excitedly, leaving Tim’s side to talk to Danny. “ Did you also learn? ” Meaning is he a native speaker. 

“ Kind of? ” He laughed, “ You can speak more comfortably if you’d like. ” He gestures for her to sit.

Kara seems hesitant at first, but then she says something. It sounded Kryptonian but the accent was different to what Tim was used to and he could only make out some of it. To Kara’s delight and Tim’s further surprise Danny not only understood exactly what she’d said but even responded in the same way. 

It takes a while for them to settle on a game to play given all the language barriers. Kara spoke in what Tim learned was Standard Kryptonian but would often switch to her local dialect when she didn’t know how to say things. Kon and Tim could only understand Standard, and in all honesty, between them Tim was the only one who could speak it. Bart and Cassie couldn’t speak at all. 

They decided to play charades. It was awkward and hard at first, but they all got really into it by the third round. They kept the categories simple since Kara wouldn’t know any movies. Fortunately, she seemed to feel a lot more comfortable and talked a lot more, even if it was mostly just to Danny. There were times she would make an effort to say things in english. It was really broken but they all made sure to appreciate it and tried her best to understand. 

“I’m hungry guys.” Cassie said after her turn to act out her word, plopping herself in her spot between Bart and Kon. 

“Me too.” Bart agreed mournfully. 

“You’re always hungry.” 

“Should we order Pizza?” Tim asked, pulling out his phone. 

“I want pineapples on mine!” Bart said.

“Ew. No.” Cass kicked him. “I’ll have my usual.” She told Tim.

“Like mushrooms and olives are any better.” Kon snickered. 

“It’s better than pineapples.” 

Kara looked between them curiously. 

“Danny, ask Kara what she wants.” Tim instructed. 

After hearing them talk for the last hour Tim had finally been able to pick on some of the words but the grammar of it still eluded him. 

“ Everyone, something, something, food. ” Danny said.

Kara looked intrigued, “ What, something, eating, something. ” 

“ Something, something, like, something. ” He paused thoughtfully, making a circle in the air presumably to explain what a pizza was. “Something… ” Then, he pulled Tim’s phone to face them and pointed to the picture of a pizza on the website. “ This .”

Kara looked hesitant, “ ...Some…thing? ” 

Danny nodded encouragingly, “Something. Something, good.” He said. 

Glancing back at the picture, Tim could see on her face that she’d made a decision but she didn’t say anything. “Okay.” She said in english with a nod. “Have.”

“Great!” Finishing it up, “Kon, Bart.” Tim signaled. 

“Ugh. Why do we have to get it every time?” Kon complained, throwing a pillow at Tim. 

“I’m not going because I was the one that paid for it.” 

“I’m not going ‘casue I don’t want to.” Cassie said, kicking her foot onto the coffee table. 

“But you were the one who said you wanted food.” Kon complained, already standing up. 

“I could go.” Danny offered.

“You're funny. Absolutely not.” Tim shut down. 

Kara looked at Danny curious, “ Saying, something, what? ” 

“ Something, food, something, go. ” 

In english, “...Kitch...en?” She pointed in the direction of it and spoke in Standard Kryptonian, “ Is it not there? ” 

“ No. ” Tim shook his head, “ The store cooks it and we just have to give them money and take it from them .” He was careful not to throw in phrases she didn’t know.

Kara looked confused by the concept but accepted it. 

“Wait until she finds out about Drive-Thrus.” Danny joked to Tim. 

“I’m going to go check on the left-overs.” Cassie said heading to the kitchen.

Tim checked everyone's location on his phone. Danny’s was offline for obvious reasons, fortunately no one had freaked out about it yet. But he couldn’t be too sure. “I’m going to check on our smoke screen in the mission room.” Tim told Danny, “You’ll be okay here with her?” 

“What if we get abducted by non-friendly aliens in the five minutes you’ll be gone?” Danny’s tone was serious but his face was mischief. 

“I hope you do.” Tim scoffed, walking out.

---

“It’s just one slice, Red.” Danny tried to reach over his shoulder 

“No.” Tim blocked his food with his body, “You have your own.” 

“I just want to try!” 

“No! Eat yours.” 

“You let Kara have some!”

“That’s because I like Kara and I don’t like you.” 

“But yours looks so much more better than mine.” Danny whined, still reaching. 

“Lesson for next time then.” 

“C’mon, you’re not even going to finish it.”

Everyone watched them like a sitcom while they got to enjoy their food without meddling siblings. “I will. Just so you can’t have any.” Tim shoved as much of the slice in his mouth as he physically could. He was actually already full. 

“You're the worst.” Danny said, shoving Tim. 

“And you're worse.” Tim countered, pushing him back. 

Tim hadn’t pushed Danny very hard. Danny probably took harder hits during hockey practice. Tim had pushed him just hard enough that it forced Danny to take a step back to balance himself. Which was when he’d stepped on a wrapper Bart had left on the floor. Danny lost his balance and fell. But not before hitting his head hard on the metal fridge door behind him. 

Cassie gasped in shock. Kon and Bart rushed over to check on him. Kara watched wide-eyed, not sure what to do. 

Tim quickly stepped forward, “Hey, are you-” Next thing he knows there's a whole tube of ranch being squirted on his costume. His freshly washed costume. 

Danny watches Tim’s face morph from concern to absolute disgust with a deep satisfaction and cackles like the villain he is.

“You are such an asshole.” 

“Takes one to know one.” Danny’s on his feet and Tim chased him with a packet of garlic sauce that came with the pizza. 

Apparently feeling left out, Bart decided to dump his glass of juice all over Kon’s head. 

“Dude.” Kon shouts, but he’s quick to retaliate.

“Missed me.” Bart teases using the speed force to dodge. 

Cassie and Kara, the only civilized people here, sit and eat their pizzas at the island watching them. 

“They’re so dumb.” Cassie says to Kara, exasperated. 

Kara smiles following the action with her eyes. “ How fun .” She replies and they share a laugh even without understanding each other. 

snipbit from this fic

[lqveharrington]

Everything & Nothing | D.M.

summary: The Universe might hate you and Draco with how many times you’ve run into each other in a span of your mutual breakup.

pairing: ex!draco malfoy x ex!fem!reader

includes: angst, slight fluff

a/n: uhhh, i don’t know why i wrote this but enjoy!

Fate seemed to have a cruel sense of humor; bringing you both into each other’s lives whenever possible. Whether it was a random run-in at an obscure café or an unexpected encounter during a night out with your quite separate group of friends, you kept finding yourselves crossing paths in the most unlikely places which was weird because you both were studying under the same wizarding university, you never ran into one another there.

Each accidental meeting sparked whirlwinds of emotions between the both of you — anger, hurt, nostalgia, and a flicker of something you both thought you had lost long ago.

Harry and Ron didn’t care, in fact, they were delighted you and Draco Malfoy broke it off when you graduated Hogwarts. Hermione couldn’t care less about the boy, but she knew you two were completely and irrevocably in love.

“So, how did last night go with… Remind me, what was the name of that prick?” Ron tapped his chin as you stared at him with the thought of casting a horrifying spell on him.

Hermione hesitated, reached a hand out to stop him before you could pull your wand out. “Ron—“

“Was it not Malfoy? I swear he looked exactly—“

You flicked your wand at him, murmuring only one word that wouldn’t cause him too much pain. “Rictumsempra.”

Ron burst out laughing, causing the muggles walking around you to stare at him incredulously. Harry laughed at him as you wore a proud look on your face, making Hermione sigh and reverse the spell. Well, after a few more seconds of torturous tickling.

“If this is how you all will behave this evening, I will send you all home, do you understand?” Hermione directed her attention to the three standing in front of her, most of her irritation directed toward her other half.

She received half-hearted words of understanding before her face completely softened to look over at you, watching your eyes become distant again. She sighed and separated you from the boys, pulling you in for a hug.

“Have you talked to him recently?” Hermione rubbed your arms softly, words quiet as you sniffled. “What’s wrong?” She was about to ask again, believing you didn’t hear her when you responded with a voice barely above a whisper.

“Is it bad that I miss him?” You wipe a stray tear quickly, wishing nothing but to cover up your embarrassment. “Merlin’s beard, I’m crying in a bookstore about a mutual break up.”

Hermione continued to soothe you as muggles continued to look at them with confusion. This happened at least once a month. You would try and move on from him, but it all came rushing back to you like it was just yesterday.

You sigh and rub your eyes with the heel of your palm, “Give me a second.”

“Take all the time you need, we just you got here so you’ll… be fine.” Hermione locked eyes with someone behind you, her eyes lighting up in surprise. “I’ll be back, I need to make sure Ron and Harry haven’t spend all their money on candies.”

You chuckle and wave her off before shifting your gaze to the bookshelves surrounding you. Did you need a new book? No. Do you want to get a new book even thought you have piles of them in your flat? Yes.

As you scanned the different books adorning the shelves, you found one that caught your eye, one that you’ve been wanting for months. Everywhere else was sold out, but apparently not this random bookstore Hermione brought you to.

Standing on your tippy toes, your fingers barely grazed the cloth material the book was bonded by. Just as you were about to clasp your hand around it, a figure behind you plucked it from the shelf, making you turn to glare at the person.

“Hey, I was—“ You cut yourself off as you faced the familiar man. Even after all these months, he still had the same face you fell in love with years ago, but of course he was maturing with his looks. You mumble out his name, making it sound more like a question than an observation. “Draco.”

He tensed at his name falling from your lips, blue eyes meeting yours. Every time he ran into you, neither of you would acknowledge the other, but this was completely different. He stared at you, hoping and praying that this wasn’t a dream. As he realized his face was in fact getting hotter by the second, he knew this wasn’t a figment of his imagination.

“Hi.” Draco breathed out, his resolve bending to your every will. He watched as you directed your attention to his hands, your hands spinning a ring he thought you threw out long ago. He blinked before clearing his throat and handing you the book, scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry, I was trying to be helpful.”

“It’s fine.” You mutter quietly, your fingers brushing against his, sending sparks down your body.

The room felt hot and heavy and you didn’t know what to do but stand there and bask in the awkwardness that came upon the both of you. You felt for the pages in the book before Draco pressed closer to you, apologies spilling out of his mouth the closer he got as an old woman struggled to get past behind him.

As she finally slipped through, Draco immediately removed himself from you; and from habit, tucked a loose piece of your hair behind your ear before realizing his mistake.

“I’m sorry— I didn’t mean to—“

You stop his rambling before he could go on for any longer, “It’s alright, Draco. No… No harm done at all.” You clasped your hand around the book, nails anxiously tapping against its hard cover. “Uh… It was nice to see you…”

Draco watched as you turned to leave before reached out for your shoulder, making you turn back to face him with a surprised look.

“Wait.”

You looked at the hand on your shoulder and followed his arm up to his face, feeling your own face heat up as his turned equally as red. He quickly removed his hand and tucked them into his pockets — you knew that meant he was nervous. And so were you.

“Can we talk?” He asked softly, slightly bouncing on the balls of his feet. You watch him with slight amusement before nodding, lips curling up to an even bigger smile when you noticed his eyes light up at your agreement. You allowed him to lead the way before looking down at the book.

As you watch him head for the door, you stop him briefly. “Give me a second, I have to pay for the book still.” Before you could even hear how much your total was from the bored cashier, Draco shoved his muggle money to the cashier in hopes to make the process faster.

You rolled your eyes with a small smile on your face, taking the paper bag from the counter and making your way to the front of the bookstore to wait for him. You shut your eyes briefly as the small snippets of conversations floated around the store, the random tales of their lives making small movies in your mind until a hand softly squeezed your shoulder.

“Mm, you done?” You murmur, eyes fluttering up to see a content Draco. Tilting your head over to the cashier, you saw her making goo-goo eyes toward him, specifically a place no one decent should be looking at in public. “You don’t mind if we could talk down by the cafe, yeah?”

“Lead the way.” He gestured the front of the door with his chin, eyes watching your calm facade turn into such a fast filled emotion of annoyance and jealousy.

Instead of the bookstore with an over-eager cashier who was ready to get into Draco’s pants, you lead him to a quiet cafe with no one but two old men playing chess at a round table. The smell of freshly baked pastries filled your senses, making you hum in content and sit at your own round table, Draco sitting right across from you.

After a few silent moments, you sighed and stopped spinning your ring, looking up at the blonde in front of you.

“What did you want to talk about?”

Draco gave you a tight-lipped smile, fingers wringing with each other. “Honestly? Everything. I want to talk about our lives — more specifically yours — and how you’ve been.”

You blinked at him. You didn’t know he was still interested in your life, but you did want to know if he ever…

“We don’t have to, but I would like that very much.” He spoke quietly when he caught your dazed look.

Nodding, you begin spinning your ring again. “What do you want to know?”

He smiled softly and began the mirage of questions, each one you happily answered. It was like no time had passed since Hogwarts. It was like nothing ever happened.

Like always, Draco watched you animatedly talk about a new book series you started, your hands flailing around in excitement. His smile never left, even when you would bounce your knee up and down or when you would snap your fingers when you remembered what you were going to say.

In his mind, you were everything he ever wanted. It was heartbreaking to see your face fall when he brought up a topic that you both wanted to know but didn’t want to say.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, especially coming from me, but you haven’t… Have you been going on dates with others or, you know, have a boyfriend?” Draco murmured.

It was almost laughable how the prince of Slytherin fumbled his words and looked almost embarrassed to ask questions such as these.

You pursed your lips and looked over at the bustling street full of muggles. Your voice was quiet when you spoke that Draco could barely hear it over the sound of the people.

“I have, but I didn’t uhm… I didn’t enjoy any of them.”

“Why not?”

The music of a muggle artist you’ve come to love started playing, making you sigh in slight annoyance. Not that you disliked the song, but because of how similar the song was to your current life.

“They didn’t meet my standards.” You meet his eyes with a distant look, his own eyes shining with interest. “It seemed like none of them could because every time I went on one — which wasn’t many — something always reels me back.”

He hummed, glancing down at your ring with slight curiosity. “And what are those standards?”

You bite your inner cheek as you look off to the side where a happy couple was walking around a fountain and pointing at the water spouts.

“I’m not sure… Just someone who I know would understand me. Someone who will willingly indulge in my interests without being rude or judgmental.” You tucked your hand to adjusted your wand poking into your side. “And preferably someone who’s already a wizard or witch. I don’t want to explain the whole thing to a muggle.”

Draco raised his eyes brows in surprise before a small smirk decorated his lips. You were still a Slytherin through and through. “Sounds like fun.”

You scoffed, “Okay, your turn. How has the dating pool been for you?”

“Actually I haven’t gone on any.” He sat back and crossed his arms across his chest, watching you flush red in embarrassment. “What’s with the face, princess?”

Stupid princess of Slytherin. You thought.

“I just thought you would’ve… Never mind.” You spin the ring again. Just before you could speak once more, Draco cut you off, surprise etching your face at the question.

“Why do you still wear that ring? I thought you would have burned it the second you could.” He tilted his head as your cheeks burned much hotter. “Or better yet, have thrown it in a rubbish heap.”

You glanced down at the Malfoy Signet adorning your ring finger. It wasn’t as big and bulky as Draco’s, but rather dainty with an emerald placed in its center. He said it was his mother’s and that she wished you would have it instead of her.

“It’s not mine to get rid of.” You slip the ring off and gently cradle it in your palm, the writing written on the inside practically a line you could recite any time if asked. “Besides, it’s too gorgeous for me to get rid of it.”

He hummed and plucked the ring from your palm, noticing your eyes following the movement carefully. “I gave it to you, so the true question is if it truly is yours or not.”

The clattering of plates and chatters from customers around you made you finally ask something that’s been itching to get out the second you agreed to talk to him.

“Why did you want to talk? And don’t say because you want to know everything that happened. And how come you never dated again? Was I that bad of a—“

Your eyes widened in surprise before pulling away, fingers coming up to touch your lips.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Draco started as he held the ring tightly in his fist, looking straight into your eyes. “Because I missed talking to you. I missed being around you without the tension between us. And I never dated anyone else because of you. You weren’t bad, you were… You were everything to me that I couldn’t replace. I couldn’t go on in life without you because I wouldn’t have anything. I would have nothing.”

Silence filled the space between the both of you as your heart began to pace faster and faster, fingers fiddling with one another.

“I swear, the universe either loves or hates us because I see you all the time and I couldn’t come up to you without you thinking it was weird.” Draco sighed and ran his slender fingers through his hair. “I know the break up was mutual for both our benefits, but I can’t help think about how our life’s could’ve been.”

You tentatively reach over his clenched hand and gently pry it open before lacing your hand with his, rubbing the soft of his hand to calm him down.

“I honestly am at a loss of words…” You began your own spiel but only stared at your joined hands. “I know that when we broke up it was going to be hard to move on. I… I really tried to but no one could ever top whatever we had.” You look up to his beautiful blue eyes that you swore could be mistaken for gray. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that… I think we should definitely try again. It’s not like we broke up to something horrible, but I guess we had different pathways for our futures.”

Draco took the ring from his palm and held it in front of you, murmuring words of distaste for a second. “Salazar Slytherin, I’m gonna sound like a fucking geek.”

You smile softly. You missed him so much. Even his stupid remarks.

“Do you promise we’ll try? Because even my worst nightmares couldn’t picture a life without you.” Draco matched your ever growing smile. “Because I have always loved you.”

Scrunching your nose, you leaned over the round table and kissed his lips softly before murmuring your own response. “That was really sentimental of you, you geek.”

He slipped the ring back on your ring finger before capturing your lips again, feeling you smile into it. “Well, I’m your geek, my love.”

read more about draco malfoy here!!

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[glitterfang]

Pas de deux, /ˌpä də ˈdə/ noun: In ballet, a pas de deux is a dance duet in which two dancers perform ballet steps together.

Eddie "the Freak" Munson and "King" Steve Harrington were irrevocably bound by dance, shared family and a genuine, unexpected, happy accident of a friendship for which Eddie was grateful every single day.

Even if Eddie was also desperately, laughably, head over heels in love with him.

A Steddie Ballet AU by Malikat22 my ST RBB partner!

[namjooningelsewhere]

War Of The Hearts: #9

✽Pairing - OT7 x reader (DJ) and OT7 x Lily

✽Word Count - 7.8k

✽Ratings - 18+

✽Genre(s) - Mafia Au, Angst , Fluff, mentions of smut.

✽Trigger Warnings - Mentions of Death, Mentions of Trauma , minor alcohol consumption, mentions of torture and shootouts and mentions of bloodshed, Mentions of Drugs, Attempted Murder, A little manipulative behavior, A shootout, a lot of cursing, There is a little bit of torture in here so please please avoid this if this triggers you in any way.

✽Summary - You’ve been lurking in the shadows, protecting the seven of Bangtan even if it means you must give your own life. After all, that’s what you do when you are in love with someone irrevocably. That pain seems to be minuscule in light of their safety. But it was never about you, for all you are is a speck of dust in the universe they have created for them and their girlfriend. Your heart’s at war, but it’s fine, you can smile through the pain as long as it means they smile- for her.

✽A/N : Hello Everyone! I apologise I couldn't post the last time due to some circumstances and I literally couldn't find any time to get on Tumblr after the post. The 9th part is here now, And I hope you guys like it, And also my apologies if you find the writing a little over the place, Ive been in a slump with writing since a year and this is my honest attempt to get out of it. I would love it if you let me know what you think about it.

✽Taglist: @brimal @2ne1unni @shatzkrinslinzki @zae007live, @gukieater @tinyoonsblog @skylievin @2ne1unni @lovelgirl22 @euphakid @embrace-themagic @didi-9310 @loisje123 @iamhereforbts @silscintilla @2ne1unni @rp171198 @aboredboredboreduniverse @blaaiissee @top-crop @sa7kou @chhungi-bawihtlung @aquariushoesss @definitelythinkimanalien

7mer @babycoffeefire @emoskytime8 @hob3yw0rld@motivatedprocastinator @speedyqueendaze @sugajinny @thereaderwholovesyou @btspurplesky @skz-jeha @theestrangeddreamer @success1009 @militrybarbi @afangirllikeme-blog @celestialentitiesss @daydreambrliever @bibebts @dreamamubarak @kimsaerom @sa7kou @veronawrites @bt21chim @cutiepat @jooniebub @shadowyjellyfishfest @mageprincess7 @jiminbolala @impossibilitydesign @xtayxx​ @ cherryluvhobi @knjsbae @intoomanyfandoms15 @foreverddaeng

✽Part Eight - Here

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You chuckled at hearing a gasp from the Bratva’s side, Your request was very unusual for him. You knew that. You were sure he wouldn't be able to fathom why exactly you wanted Zakharov to visit you in Korea.         

“Bratva, we will speak when you get here. Right now all I am requesting is your presence here. Rest assured, This is going to be one hell of a trip.” Bratva obliged your request right away without questioning further. You looked at the men standing in the room looking at you with an expression that spelled curiosity all over their faces.

“They have agreed to come, Bratva will let me know sometime tomorrow when exactly they can come.” 

“You're in for a treat.” Borris looks at Jimin helplessly when he hears Jimin mock him. You shrug your shoulders when Borris looks at you expecting him to help him. He should have thought of that before they plotted against you and the Bangtan men. These were nothing but consequences of their actions.

If they didn't feel bad before using and treating you as a scapegoat, Then why the hell should you?

“What do we do now?” You take a moment to answer Taehyung’s question. How were you supposed to go from here? 

“Let's move him to my house, Mikhail will be taken care of by my men.” Nobody speaks up against your decision, Except for Borris. Who of course has a lot of comments to make. You ignore the pleas of the man and ask your men to take him to your house. You needed to keep a strict eye on the man lest there should be any other unexpected events. Should there be one?

It takes a little while after a screaming Borris is escorted out of the room, You take a minute to calm down. The way Borris kept screaming gave you a headache and you really didn't want to hear the voice of that man for some time. You needed some silence.

You sit in the room with the other men who seemed too quiet, Nobody spoke anything. They were all just sitting there. Some look at their hands entwined in their laps, The others look at the furniture in the room as if it were in some museum. These feelings sometimes were so difficult to express, That you had no idea what to do about it. You all had been played, and manipulated by Lily. And right now neither you nor the boys knew where you would go from here. “It's getting late, We should leave.” Everyone looked at Namjoon with somewhat of an expression of relief, The awkward atmosphere was getting too much to bear.

“I don't want to be anywhere near Lily right now.” Everyone seemed to agree with Yoongi. You looked at the seven men with a puzzled expression. Lily did not know they knew, And you did not have the slightest clue yourself of how the boys were going to face her, Let alone you.

“I think me and Namjoon will go to our house with Lily, The rest of you stay with DJ at her place.” Namjoon gave Jin a questioning look but did not speak. The older male seemed to gesture at something which did not make him question anything anymore.

“Boss, do you want us to come with you?”

“No, I guess let's call it a day. You guys have had enough for today as well.” The two men nodded and left first. You bid farewell to the two men who left for their house. You could feel the tension thick in the air but there was very little that you could do about it. You had no words to express the pain that you yourself felt when you saw the pain on the seven men's faces. They were feeling so many things at the same time, Yet there was barely anything that these men could do about it.

“Namjoon..” You pulled Namjoon into a hug when he looked back the moment you called him. His hands tightened around your waist and you just wished he could feel what you wanted to convey.

“It will be alright.” You feel his head nodding in a yes, You take a deep breath inhaling his scent, Which provides a sense of comfort. You let him go after a second, He gave you a weak smile and proceeded towards his car. You followed the five men to your respective cars to leave for your house.

The house seemed dead silent when both Jin and Namjoon walked in, The men wordlessly walked towards Lily’s room. She was still sleeping peacefully and totally unaware of her surroundings.

Jin took a seat near her and switched on the lights on the light side. The dimly lit room hid their tears very well. The soft light illuminated only the face of the woman they had come to love all these years, They couldn't have thought in their wildest dreams of the dark secret the woman was hiding.

Namjoon stroked Lily’s head softly, His fingers caressing her forehead in a way where a little force could break her. He let out a sigh and looked at Jin who had an equally gloomy expression on his face. The two men spent a good minute just looking at Lily, who looked like she was having the best sleep after a hard working day.

“You remember the first day we met her? She looked like she was seconds away from ripping your hair out?” Namjoon chuckled at that fond memory. For the first time ever in his life, he had someone walk up to him and yell at him. With every word she spoke, Namjoon kept controlling his laughter which ultimately came off the minute she took a pause. She still remembered the bewildered expression that came over Lily’s face when she saw them laughing his head off. The smile that came on her face after snatching his breath instantly threw him out of the laughing fit. The way her eyes crinkled when she laughed too was enough to have him swooning.

“I remember it clearly just like it happened yesterday. That smile was lethal.” Jin let out a small laugh at Namjoon’s mention, His first memory of Lily resembling something of Namjoon. He still remembered the way he had dragged Namjoon to see who she was. 

“Who knew she was hiding so many things.” 

“Never knew she could do something like this to us.” Namjoon withdraws his hands and stands up making his way to the window, The dark night looks better than the darkness inside him. His brain wanted to kill the woman who had used him and was probably very close to betraying him. But his heart kept refuting everything he had heard. Namjoon let out a frustrated scream and punched his hand on the window hard, shattering the glass into pieces.

“Are you fucking out of your mind? Show me.” Jin looked at the younger’s hand in pure despair, The shards of glass sticking to his knuckles made him bleed profusely.

“I will kill you if you do that shit again, il back in a second.” Jin rushed out of the bedroom to bring the first aid kit while Namjoon dejectedly took a seat on the chair placed right in front of Lily.

Jin froze in his steps and Namjoon suddenly stopped him with his hand. He got up and knelt down in front of Lily who was letting out small groans. She was waking up. Jin pulled Namjoon back and made him sit.

“I don't care if she is waking up, Sit down. Let's have a look at this first.” Jin’s stern expression got Namjoon sitting down like a small kid who was threatened with being grounded. Jin let small curses when Namjoon winced in pain and right at that moment he was thankful that he had the rest of them by his side. At Least they weren't going anywhere. They would always be by his side.

“DJ….” Jin paused his administration on Namjoon’s hand the second he heard your name, Really? She had the audacity to set you up and then utter your name like you were in some kind of distress. Namjoon tried getting up but Jin’s strong grip on his thighs didn't allow him to do so. 

“Funny isn't it, How she is the one who was setting up DJ, and hers is the first name she took when she's waking up.” Jin's grip didn't allow Namjoon to budge. The man could be as stubborn as a mule and nobody could do anything about it. 

“I wonder what she remembers.” Namjoon quickly shushed him, pointing a finger at the woman. Jin and Namjoon concentrated on the woman's movements which kept getting more restless and your name which kept coming out of her mouth like a mantra. Her movements signaled the men that she would be waking up any minute.

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“Namjoon.--

“Don't wake up, Just lay back down.” Namjoon placed her head back on the pillow, While Jin ran to fetch a glass of water. 

“Where is Dj?” Namjoon placed his finger on her lips trying his best to not shake her up and slap her for what she tried to do. 

“She's safe. You should get some rest.” He stroked her forehead and the woman fell back asleep. Jin gently held her head and helped her drink some water. Even before she could take two sips Jin popped the question he had been dying to ask her, What did she remember? The water spluttered out of Lily’s mouth and she began coughing violently. Namjoon gave a stern look to Jin while he rubbed her back, Jin just gave a blank expression. Maybe he knew what was about to go down. His mind wanted to see the extent she would lie, but his heart secretly wished that somehow magically she wouldn't have anything to do with all this.

Lily’s huge sobs brought Jin out of his thoughts and the little hope that was peeking its head inside his heart went away in an instant.

“He had his gun here, Right on my head.”Lily wept in Namjoon’s arms and the latter just stopped himself from giving her a piece of his mind.

“Sweetie, did you know who they were? Why were they after you?”

“I don't remember anything, They hit me so hard on the head. Maybe they wanted to hurt you guys and meant to use me like a pawn.” Jin clenched his teeth in rage, Really is this how this woman had been lying to their face all these years? What else had she lied about?

“Namjoon, Jin. I am too tired and weak right now. I want to sleep.” The two men placed her head on the pillow back again and pulled the comforter on her. 

“Sleep here with me please, I don't want to be alone.” The two men obliged unwillingly, What could they have given to not be there with her right now. For the first time ever, They did not want to be there by her side. They had the urge to run miles away from her, But there was so much to know and so much left to unveil, They had to play along.

Lily relaxed a little after she had the two men sleeping next to her side, She snuggled into Namjoons chest and prayed silently that everything was right at the place that it was supposed to be. For the life of her, she couldn't remember a single thing no matter what. While she decided to rest and hope that everything was fine, the two men stayed awake next to her, hating every second of it. This was going to be one hell of a long night. 

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You sat in front of the two men that had been locked in the basement, Your men stood guard outside ready to blow the heads of the two captive men if they tried something. Mikhail kept drifting in and out of consciousness while Borris sat terrified and roped to the chair. His eyes kept moving towards Mikhail and the fear of having the same fate as him and that fear in his eyes gave you a sick level of satisfaction.

“Why can't you just let us go?” You did not dignify Borris’s question with an answer,  You were not even sure anymore what were you even supposed to say to him? These guys came into your life from nowhere and turned it worse than up and down, for their own selfish needs. Tried to pawn you off like you belonged to them or some toy that they had bought. Lily should be thankful you still had not laid your hands on her.

“Will you say something?” Borris bought his voice several notches down, Still not sure of what you would do lest he pissed you off. Mikhail was right next to me, probably wishing he was dead. 

“If I hear one more word out of your mouth, Those worms from his thigh will be in your eyes.” Borris shrieked loud enough to induce another headache, One movement of your leg was enough to have the man apologizing profusely. 

You kept sitting in front of the two men, This time in peace. The entire day kept flashing in front of you like a film, The one you wouldn't even want to have a dream of. You had to plan ahead, Starting from Choi first. The bastard had answers to give.

“You had a long day, You should get some sleep.” You turn around to see Yoongi leaning on the door, His arms crossed and a blank expression on his face. 

“So did you.” 

“Just get up already, It's getting late.” You do not argue with him and get up and start walking with him. You had no energy whatsoever to have another argument with anyone. 

The men had taken their picks from their room as soon as they had walked inside your house, Nobody said anything. You didn't either. Everyone needed some silence to reflect on what they had gone through that day. You had walked straight to the basement to check the captive rats in your house. 

You and Yoongi just kept walking up the stairs, An inexpressible silence engulfing both of you. Maybe you just didn't need words, You didn't know for him but somehow deep down inside you were glad that you were not alone. “Mind if I stay here tonight?” Your hands paused for a fraction of a second before you silently nodded and the man followed you inside. 

“Make yourself comfortable, I'll just wash up.” You didn't wait for his reply as you went towards your bathroom and the said man made himself comfortable on the right side of the bed.

“Can't sleep?” 

“Yoongi?” You touched his shoulder lightly to which he flinched, You stepped back in surprise and placed your hands in the front where he could see them. He had to be too deep in thought for a light touch to be startling him like that.

“I'm sorry, I'm just….”

“No it's okay, I mean are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I'm okay—-

“Are you really?”

“No, I'm not. Hell, I'm not remotely okay. What the hell happened today?”

“I know its a lot to take in—-

“We loved her, you know? Like really really loved her. I don't think I've loved any other woman as much as I have loved her.” Your heart broke at the way he was speaking about Lily with so much pain. All of you were in the same boat, to be honest, You loved Bangtan, Bangtan loved Lily, Lily loved Borris and she didn't give two fucks about who she hurt in the process.

You were all part of a terrible terrible mess, And none of you could do anything about it. “Trust me, I understand how you all must be feeling right now.” Yoongi was visibly at a loss of words, You could see that. You quickly mumbled a quick sorry and switched off the lights to avoid any kind of awkward atmosphere. You had enough of it already.

“DJ…….”

“Hmm?”

“I am sorry.” 

“What for?” 

“I know we didn't know, And we couldn't help how you felt. But now I truly know how it feels when that person you love is not yours.” A tear rolled down your eyes, Though the scenarios were entirely different, but just him at that moment acknowledging that feeling gave you a different strength. They were not at fault, But just the mere thought of someone deeply understanding how and what you've been through healed something. Maybe you were being selfish, But at that moment you didn't give a damn about anything. 

You stayed in the same position facing away from the wall and Yoongi sat up, Leaning on the headboard. None of you said anything anymore. There was a very scarce chance that you would have gotten any sleep considering the way the day had unfolded. You made a feeble attempt to convince yourself that the lack of sleep came from the day you had, And had nothing to do with the man beside you who was already deeply heartbroken. 

You turned towards Yoongi, unable to resist the temptation. A part of you just wanted to pull him in a hug and hold him tight enough to make his pain disappear. Your heart broke into a million pieces looking at Yoongi staring at the wall with a blank expression on his face. 

A knock on your door brought you out of your thoughts, but Yoongi still remained the same. It looked like he didn't even hear it. You touch his hand lightly but upon receiving no response you let the man be and decide to open the door yourself. 

“Can I sleep here?” You make way for Taehyung, who stills for a second when he sees Yoongi on the bed. He quietly sleeps in the middle and places Yoongi’s hand on his chest. Yoongi looks at the younger male in surprise but does not react. You stand still for a minute looking at the scene in front of you. How you wish you had Jeh here. Just his being there made everything so much better.

“Are you going to sleep or what?” 

“Yeah I was going to—- 

“Then come.”

Taehyung’s hand snaked around your waist and you felt a strange sense of comfort. It was kind of a day where you wouldn't choose to be alone. You closed your eyes waiting for sleep to overcome everything you had been through today. You drifted off to light sleep, You ignored any moment that somehow kept happening beside you, Some sleep was all you wanted.

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You opened your eyes to the biggest surprise you had in some time. You could call it a good surprise but it was still a surprise. You were three people when you had slept but you were now waking up to a total of six of them excluding you in your bed. You did not have even the slightest clue when Jimin, Hobi, Jungkook had joined Yoongi, Taehyung, and you on your bed that was meant for two, a Maximum of three and a half. 

You carefully crept out of the bed, making sure not to make any noise because you had no idea when these men had managed to have some sleep. You walked down the steps making up your mind about if you should have woken those guys or if you should just leave them sleeping. You decide the latter and start thinking of the strongest coffee that you would need to make to help with your day better.

You had already made up your mind about half of the things that you had to do today, Choi was on top of it. You could swear you would make him regret coming behind you. 

You park your car in the private parking in the public administrator's building that Choi’s office was in. You make your way to the private entrance of the building which was specifically reserved for the VIP’s visiting the officials. The offices were quite exquisite considering they had special arrangements for the VIPs who didn't want to be seen when they visited the premises and every one of them had a special access card that let them access the building when they needed to.

You take the elevator and land on the floor Choi was located on, The waiting area was absolutely empty apart from the reception.

“Hi, Do you have an appointment?”

“No, But Mr.Choi knows me. Can you inform him of my presence?” The receptionist gauges your calm and collected face for a second and picks up the receiver. You were in half mind if the bastard would see you upon unannounced notice but you had other ways as well.

“I'm sorry but he is a little occupied at the moment, I can pencil you down for some time this week?” You laughed at the weak attempt he made to avoid you. 

“Is he now? Don't worry, that won't be necessary. He will see me in a minute” You send the picture that you had clicked of Mikhail on your phone and look at the camera with a smirk, You knew he was watching you. Ten seconds later the telephone rings and the puzzled receptionist guides you into his office.

“What the hell do you want, I don't know this man?” You laugh at the way the old man didn't bother giving it a minute, You walk towards the couch he was sitting on with a smile that was calm enough to boil his blood. 

“I didn't ask you anything old man, Why don't you give it a minute?”

“DJ, don't think you can fool me with your antics, I'm not bothered.” You let out a laugh listening to his statement, Really? And yet he had let you see him within ten seconds. Ten seconds was all it took you to break that disgusting piece of shit. 

“Okay let me take this picture to the circle then, Let them decide.” You get up and walk towards the door sure of the thing that this time was not your exit, The bastard had too much on the line.

“Wait—-

“You remember now?” 

“Just come back here.”

“Don't leave out a thing, Or else this man is going to be the reason why you will see your own end.”

“He came here because he wanted revenge because you wiped out his family.” 

“And”

“I gave him an idea that he should take down everything you love before you die, And that includes Bangtan.” Now this rang an alarm in your head, Why? Why would he want to go after Bangtan?

“And how did you get in touch with him?”

“You think only you know the people in the Russian mob? I knew it from the day you bought his father here, I tracked him down and led him here indirectly and when he was here I just helped him figure out the details. Since we had the same motives he readily obliged.” You were stunned by the information that the old man had just blurted out, You were still puzzled by how he had planned to use something that didn't involve him in the first place. 

“Why Bangtan?”

“I wanted them all gone.”

“Why?”

“Senior Jung was considering Namjoon to be the head of the circle.” Now this was something that you had no information about. The thought of Choi doing something like this only to eliminate the Bangtan because one of them was supposed to be the next head. You swore you would show him the consequences of it. 

“You did all this because you wanted that position for—

“My son.” He uttered the words rather feebly, Your expression darkened considerably, How stupid was this man that he had chosen to execute all this, and for what. The circle would anyways not have accepted his son, That brat was hopeless. 

You were furious about everything that had been happening in your life, You wanted to bury Lily deep in thorns, This was all because of her, She put you in a mess that was a literal swamp, the more you tried to get out, the deeper you kept going. 

You saw an expression of fear and confusion on Choi’s face. He didn't anticipate you reaching the root of his conspiracy, And probably wondered how you even managed to do this? 

You kept pacing behind his couch, half in a mind to strangle this bastard and chop his head off. You decided the former is a better option. You quietly picked the tie hanging in his coat stand, while the poor guy kept trying to look back trying to gauge your next move.

“Next time I see you playing such dirty tricks on me or either of the men in Bangtan I will make sure you regret the day you were born.” The old man struggled for a breath as you tightened the tie around his neck. How you wished you could choke the life out of this scum.

“I swear I won't” The old man managed to speak a few words in a matter of few seconds, You threw the tie away in disgust and walked out before you ended up killing him for real.

You walk out of the Choi office in a mixed sea of emotions, Anger, despair, and sadness. Those emotions just kept coming back, They kept getting washed to the shore in intervals leaving you in confusion about the way to deal with them.

You kept driving through the roads aimlessly trying to get a hold of your thoughts, You had invited Bratva and Lily’s ex-husband to Korea, That mere thought of Lily’s face when she would see them gave you another wave of sick satisfaction. Even though you were involved in a business that was not legal, and was deeply rooted in blood and conspiracies you never derived any satisfaction that soothed you to the bones, But ever since you knew about Lily’s intentions and her lies there was an evil satisfaction that coursed through your veins. 

The ringing of your phone brought you back to reality from your self-introspection. Seeing Bratva's name on the screen, You hurriedly park your car on the side and with a deep breath click on the answer.  

“DJ” Bratva’s heavy voice booms through the speakers sending a little shiver down your spine even though there was no reason to. 

“Bratva, How are you?” 

“I am good, But something tells me you are not okay, doc.” You almost feel your tears trying to escape through your eyes but you try to keep them in. At that moment you miss Jeh. You had only him in your life who could just by looking at your face, Could tell something was wrong with you. 

“Doch—

“Yeah Bratva, I am right here. Tell me”

“You tell me DJ, What has happened? Something doesn't feel right.”

“Before I tell you what has happened, You will be coming to Korea right?”

“Of Course, we are, What makes you think that I won't come if you call me? We will be there in a week, Zakharov is a little occupied right now. But we will be there for sure.” You smile at the remark reminiscing how you and Bratva had met versus the fondness in his voice right now.

“That's not a problem Bratva, I don't want to inconvenience you in any way— “That's nonsense, Do you want to tell me what happened?”

You narrate the entire event from the time you got back from Russia to Bratva and he listens to you with a stoic expression. The only way you can make the anger emanating from him is the stiffness of his expression and the clenching of his jaw. 

“That bitch” 

“I swear—

“I swear I will kill her when I lay my hands on her—

“Bratva, There is no joy in killing her, I have better plans for her.”

“You mean?” You chuckle at the way Bratva’s face lights up when you say you have a special plan for her, You always felt that this particular idea of putting someone in deep suffering would be ten times gruesome than killing the person and giving them an easy way out, And it was time that Lily tasted this special expertise of yours.

“Bratva, Let me get back to you for the details but for now know that she is in for a treat.” You hear Bratva’s booming laugh and that breaks a smile on your face.

She was indeed in for a treat.

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You open the door cautiously to your home and are immediately greeted by the loud voices in the living room. You could tell from a distance that all seven of them were present in your home right now. You stop at the door and contemplate for a minute whether you should go inside, But then you drive the idea away, This was your fucking house. 

The confusion was about your equation with the men of Bangtan, This was evolving with the speed of light. One day you were mere acquaintances, The next you were supposedly dating, The next you were friends, and now? That was a question you had no answer to.

The room quietens a bit when you enter the room. The sounds that you had been hearing somewhat gave you a hint that they were being joyous about something. 

“Did I miss something?” 

“DJ you won't believe what has happened.” Taehyung pulls you right into the middle of the room and in extremely close proximity to Namjoon, Who you were sure was the source of the good news because the smile on his face was something different than usual.

You were happy and a little relieved to see the boys joyous, Considering how their hearts had been broken and shattered yesterday.

“What happened?’’

“Well Namjoon is the new head of the circle, And that too starting next week. Can you even believe that?” You were genuinely happy for him, Namjoon truly deserved to be the next head, At Least with him being the decision maker, You could breathe in a sigh of relief some of the old traditions needed to be sent packing. With Namjoon, You were sure he would be doing great.

“Congratulations Namjooon, I am so happy for you.” You see a faint dimple appearing on his cheeks right before you experience another shock, He pulls you right into a hug and mumbles a thank you in your hair, You literally felt every syllable of it.

You lose track of how fast your heart starts beating once the woody scent of his perfume engulfs you in its serenity. You remain in his hold for a second, when you pull yourself out of his hold before you lose yourself.

“It's good to see you guys happy.” The boys visibly tense at your remarks but their expressions remain a little on the softer side. 

“It's not like we have an option.”

“Forget that, I think we should go out for dinner or something, I am still sick from yesterday.”

“And—--

“She doesn't need to know, DJ dress up. We leave in fifteen, Max twenty.”

“Wait—--

“Dress up please” Jimin pushes you towards the stairs and you give up on your effort to ask them about Lily. It was definitely strange the way Namjooon said she didn't need to know.

You stand under the shower thinking about everything again and suddenly an idea lights up your face. Namjoon had one week before he had to begin as the head of the circle, And there was also one week before Bratva and Zakharov arrived in Korea. A party would be the perfect opportunity to introduce the two parties to each other, And it would also be a perfect opportunity to stand by and watch the magic unfold.

You hum a happy song walk out of the shower in your towel and stand in front of the mirror before you can spritz some perfume the door to your room bursts open and Jimin and Jungkook come barreling in, You stand shocked to see the two men rooted to their spots with their eyes open.

You clear your throat and gesture towards the door but it looks like it barely registered with them. 

“Out, The door is right behind you.” You try to speak a little louder, hopeful of getting through to them, And before you know it the guys scramble out of the room. You would have to double-check if you locked your room the next time.

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“I wanted to speak to you guys about something.” The boys pause their talks and divert their attention to you. You glance around before you begin to make sure you have everybody’s attention.

“I want to throw a party–

“For? The way all of us have gotten fooled, For that?” You throw a stern glance at Yoongi who surprisingly stays quiet and motions you to go ahead.

“I want to throw a party for Namjoon. He's the new head of the circle and it's a perfect occasion to celebrate.”

“DJ, That is not really req—-

“I am going to invite Bratva and Zakharov to that party too.”

“I'll help with the guest list.” You are quite surprised with the fact that Yoongi and Hobi said that at once, You feel relieved to have the confirmation, Now you are free to plan the party and Lily’s downfall at the same time.

“I would like to see her face. That lying— Taehyung stops himself from uttering the next word. You could clearly see the pain on his face, But there was very little that you could do.

The dinner passes by in a jiffy, considering the excitement the guys had earlier had died down considerably after you mentioned the party and the special guests. But what had to be done, Had to be done. There was no choice.

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A loud banging on your door jolts you awake, You rush to the door fearing the worst consequences when The six guys excluding Jin come rushing into your room, You stand at the door with your eyes and mouth wide open wondering about the reason for this rushed visit.

“She's here, She here.” Jimin points at the door, And for you, it takes a second to register who she is.

“But why are you hiding?”

“We don't want to face her, Not right now.” The panic in the guy's faces tells you that this is not the time to reason with them. 

“Alright, Let me close the door.” But before you could close the door, Lily comes barging in, and before you could say anything she pulls you in for a hug.

“I have been so worried about you, Where were you, DJ? I was so worried they did something with you.” The grip that she had been tightening on you was suffocating you to no end, Her lies just didn't seem to end.

“She's fine, Don't worry.” Lily looked at Hobi with a shocked expression, It was evident that she didn't expect this reaction out of him. You clear your throat at the intervention and move behind Hobi to keep a safe distance from her. You could totally understand why the boys were running away from her, Only you knew how you were resisting the urge to strangle her right there.

“I am fine Lily, Don't worry. They didn't do anything to me. In fact, I was worried about you.”

You could see an uncomfortable expression surfacing on Lily's face but she hides it like a pro. You look at the guys who keep making weird attempts to avoid her by looking everywhere in the room except Lily herself. 

“Where were you all?”

“We, We have been a little busy.” 

“Yeah, He's right. We were busy, In fact very busy.” Taehyung tries to make it sound as if what he is saying is super important but his attempts just go in vain. The poor guy couldn't lie to save his life.

“Tae, are you trying to lie to me?” 

“Actually they're all really worried about us.” You quickly jump in to save Taehyung and the only way you could do that was by turning the tables.

“Us?”

“We are—?” You throw a stern look at Namjoon, Which ends up working on Yoongi too. You could see he was about to say something. 

“Yeah, So what I was saying was, You know how you were kidnapped? I mean both of us were kidnapped? They're wondering who did it, you know? And what could be the intention behind the kidnapping? “ You feel the same satisfaction when you feel Lily tensing after every question, It has definitely worked.

“You don't need to worry you guys, I am fine. Absolutely fine.” Lily tries stepping back to make an exit, But you step right behind her and block her way. You were not done with her yet.

“Do you remember anything from that day Lily?” You feel Lily tensing up even more, The fun is about to begin.

“I—---

“Try to remember Lily, The guys are really worried about you–

“And you.” 

“Sorry?”

“We were worried about you both, I meant.”

“So Lily, Babe, do you remember anything at all? Try to remember.” Jungkoook steals Lily from you places a hand on her shoulder and begins walking to the other guys. Turn by turn Lily passed around like a little doll, And you could see the way she was feeling deeply uncomfortable. A few minutes into the sweet interrogation, She would be sure to sweat.

“Namjoon, Baby I am not feeling too well. Can you take me home?”

“Actually baby, Jimin and Taehyung will take you home. I have a meeting.” 

“Hyung—

“Take Jungkook with you.”

“Hyung,” It was Jungkook's turn to whine, Lily looked at them with a very confused expression. This probably was the first time when the guys must have been avoiding taking her home. Generally from what you saw, It was actually the opposite.

“Go please.” Namjoons stern voice drives the four of them out of the room in a jiffy, You breathe a sigh of relief. The stress that these few minutes had brought was immense. 

“Close the door please.” 

“Sure” You close the door with a confused expression, "They were going to be sleeping here too?

“That's my side, Pick somewhere else.” The way Yoongi pushed Hobi, brought a smile on both your and Namjoon's faces. 

“I will sleep here, I mean Sit here.” Namjoon points towards the sofa on your right and you nod in a yes. You take your place on the bed and the rest of them settle on the bed. 

“Where’s Jin?” You ask, Remembering that you had not seen him after dinner.

“He's gone for a drive, He ran away the minute he saw Lily coming. You laugh the way Hobi scowls, You turn off the lights, and the minute your head hits the pillow you feel sleep taking over you in a minute. 

You wake up with some light ruffling on the side, You turn on the lights to see Jin trying to make some space on the bed, The way he was mumbling something clearly indicated that he was drunk. There were multiple bedrooms in the house and all these men could find was your room.

“Jin–

Your eyes widen when Jin stumbles to your side and kisses the top of your head. Good night, It takes him a few stumbles to reach back to the spot he made for himself. He sleeps on his stomach and passes out faster than a second.

You take a look at Namjoon who was fast asleep, But in an awkward position. You quickly bring the spare pillow adjust his head and decide to go back to sleep. It was indeed a long night.

You had enough time for planning a party, You started with the major things by scheduling details for Bratva’s travel. They had agreed to be in Korea the following week. The guys keep staying at your place and absolutely refuse to return to their homes. Lily without a doubt kept herself occupied, Your guess was probably she was trying to figure out the whereabouts of her boyfriend.

The boys kept waiting for the day when Lily and the special guests would arrive. You kept yourself busy with your work, Party arrangements, and some last-minute deliveries. 

The guys kept hovering around you for one reason or the other, From receiving zero attention from them to having their attention on yourself was overwhelming, to say the least, And you definitely had a problem with the fact that the attention doubled in front of Lily, It sometimes looked like they were doing it on purpose. But you avoided saying anything to them because given what was going on from the past couple of days, You didn't want to create any more drama. 

You tried keeping yourself as away as you could from the cold war that was happening, Lily sometimes tried to stay over and it would end up with everyone in your room.

You decided to ignore everything for the time being, Your sole focus was making the party a huge hit, One for establishing a good image for Namjoon, And mainly was the grand reveal.

The only good thing that kept you sane was your calls with Marco and Jeh. Though Jeh was still unconscious you still made it a point to talk to him at least thrice a day. Marco made sure he let you vent your heart out, You had no idea how you could ever thank god for these two. 

While it was long back that Marco and Jeh had been in Malaga, all of that felt like it was yesterday.

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You walked around the hall greeting and speaking to guests with Namjoon, You had felt weird that Namjoon had asked you to be at his side at all times. You didn't say anything considering that it was a big day for him today. 

Lily kept greeting the other guests alone, you were sure it might have raised eyebrows but that was not something you were going to bother yourself with. You kept looking at your phone to check if Bratva and Zakharov had landed, You received a text message indicating that they had arrived safely, You felt your nerves starting to explode, The excitement, anxiety, and stress of everything had you gulping down flutes of champagne.

“You okay?” Namjoon asked as you finished your flute, You looked at him once and once at the door. There still wasn't any sign of the arrival of the guests.

“It's just the nerves.”

“Don't worry everything will be fine.” Namjoon holds your hand in a tight grip and that somewhat soothes the anxiety inside you.

You keep greeting the guests as they come, and when the beep sounds on your phone you breathe a sigh of relief, Bratva and Zakharov were here, And so were Mikhail and Borris. You had gotten both of them intentionally there, That was a twist you decided to throw in at the last minute. This was going to be epic.

Mikhail was obviously still in bad shape but you had made sure that he had been accommodated well in a wheelchair, And he was kept conscious deliberately to see how bad he had failed.

You kept doing rounds and once you were sure that all the invited people had arrived, You checked your phone for the latest update, And you saw a message from Jin. He had already taken Bratva and Zakharov with them backstage, Mikhail and Borris would be making a grand appearance with them.

The guys made sure Lily was with them once Bratva arrived, And turn by turn the guys wished you and Namjoon good luck.

You walk with Namjoon on the stage and take the mic to greet everyone, You and Namjoon keep arguing over who would introduce the special guests, But Namjoon ends up winning because apparently his vote came with seven other votes that refused to listen to anything. 

You saw the crowd waiting with a smile, It was finally happening. The nerves had calmed down considerably and you were more than okay to witness the spectacle.

“Hello Everyone! Thank You so much for attending today’s party, I am sure each one of you knows how much it means to us. It sure is a big day for Namjoon, Who is about to begin a wonderful tenure as the head of our circle. It is my greatest pleasure to be greeting you all and also host this special occasion. “ you ended the short note with a formal address to the crowd. You handed the mic to Namjoon who thanked everyone who attended the party. He held your hand when he was about to finish his speech, Indicating it was time.

“Now Ladies And Gentlemen, I would like to introduce you to our very special guests who have arrived here from Russia specially on our invitation. Please give it up for our very dear Bratva and Vladimir Zakharov and their friends Mikhail and Borris.” 

The color drained from Lily’s face visibly and in a fraction of a second, you saw fear flashing on her face. You and Namjoon walked down from the dice, Yoongi and Hobi made sure that there was no way Lily escaped from their grip, Even though she tried hard to make excuses they didn't budge saying they had to introduce her to the special guests.

“Bratva, this is the other members of Bangtan, This is Yoongi, Taehyung, Hobi, Jimin, Jungkook, Jin and this is the most special member of the group, Lily.” The guys one by one exchanged pleasantries with Bratva and Zakharov, While Lily tried to maintain her composure the sweat on her forehead and the constant effort to free her hand from Yoongi said otherwise. Her expression changed drastically after Zakharov turned to her and took her other hand to place a kiss on the back of her hand.

“Hello Ms.Lily, Or should I say My wife?”

[wonderlanddreamer]

Tommy ShelbyxReaderxJohn Shelby.

Summary: Over Tommy's knee, the sting of his discipline ignites a powerful mix of submission and desire, setting the stage for an intense power play with the Shelby brothers.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Sexual content, dub-con, power dynamics, spanking/physical discipline, rough play. MDNI.

The dim light of the early morning sun filtered through the heavy drapes of Arrow House, casting a soft, golden glow across the opulent bedroom. The rich, mahogany furniture and plush, deep-red fabrics seemed to absorb the sunlight, creating an ambiance of both warmth and secrecy. You stirred beneath the silken sheets, their cool, smooth texture a stark contrast to the heat that had built up between your bodies during the night. Each brush of the fabric against your skin was a tangible reminder of the world you now inhabited.

Life had taken an unexpected and irrevocable turn when Thomas Shelby had stormed into it, his presence as commanding and unyielding as the roar of a Birmingham gunfight. His influence was inescapable, a force that shaped your every moment. Now, every day began and ended with his shadow looming over you, a constant reminder of the power he wielded. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of the morning dew seeping in through the slightly parted drapes.

You couldn't help but shiver slightly, not from the cold, but from the anticipation that always accompanied the thought of him. Tommy Shelby was a man of many faces—an astute businessman, a ruthless gangster, and a masterful dom. His control over you was absolute, a silent agreement that had been made with just a look and a whisper in the dead of night. It was an arrangement that left you breathless, both in fear and in longing.

As your eyes adjusted to the dimness, you could hear the faint rustling of papers and the soft clink of a whiskey glass from the adjoining room. Tommy was up, as he always was, orchestrating his empire with an iron fist. You knew better than to disturb him unbidden; instead, you waited, your heart racing in the quiet, for the moment when he would summon you. It was in these moments of stillness that you felt the weight of his control most acutely, a heady mix of submission and desire coursing through your veins.

The door creaked open slowly, and there he stood, silhouetted against the morning light, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours. "Good morning, pet," he said, his voice a low, authoritative growl that sent shivers down your spine. "It's time we discussed your duties for the day.”

Your breath caught in your throat as Tommy's gaze pinned you to the bed. His presence was intoxicating, a mixture of danger and allure that left you both trembling and yearning. You sat up slowly, the sheets pooling around your waist, revealing the delicate lace lingerie he had chosen for you the night before. The sight seemed to please him, a smirk curling at the corner of his lips.

"Look at you," he murmured, stepping closer with measured, deliberate strides. "So eager to please, aren't you, pet?" His words were a low purr, each syllable dripping with control and ownership. You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from his, your body already responding to the power he exuded.

"Good girl," he praised, his fingers trailing lightly along your jawline before tilting your chin up. "You know your place, don’t you?" His touch was electrifying, a promise of both pleasure and discipline. You nodded again, your voice caught in your throat.

"Speak," he commanded softly, his thumb brushing over your lips with a tantalising slowness. The rough pad of his thumb contrasted sharply with the softness of your lips, sending a shiver through your entire body. "Tell me who you belong to."

"To you, Tommy," you whispered, your voice trembling with a potent mix of submission and anticipation. "I belong to you."

"That's right," he said, his smirk widening into something almost predatory. His piercing blue eyes never left yours, locking you in a gaze that held both promise and peril. "Every inch of you. And you know what I expect, don’t you?" His hand moved with deliberate slowness to your throat, not squeezing but resting there with a possessive weight. It was a gesture that was both intimate and dominating, a reminder of his absolute control over you.

"Obedience. Complete and utter obedience," he continued, his voice a low, authoritative growl that seemed to vibrate through your very core.

"Yes, Tommy," you breathed, the words escaping your lips as a vow, a complete and unwavering surrender. The air between you crackled with electricity, the tension almost palpable. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the solid strength of his presence enveloping you like a cocoon.

"On your knees, pet," he ordered, stepping back slightly to give you room. You slid off the bed, the cool floor against your knees a harsh contrast to the heat pooling in your core. You looked up at him, your eyes wide with submission and need.

"Such a pretty sight," he murmured, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, teasingly. "Do you know what I do to pretty little things like you?"

"N-no, Tommy," you stammered, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I use them," he said simply, his voice a velvet caress. "I make them mine in every way imaginable. And you? You’ll take it all, won’t you, pet?"

"Yes, Tommy," you replied, the words spilling out in a rush, your body aching for his touch, his approval.

"Good," he said, his shirt now discarded, revealing the hard planes of his chest. He stepped closer, his hand tangling in your hair, tipping your head back to meet his gaze. "Because a good whore knows her place. And today, your place is right here, serving me."

His words were a command, a promise, and a thrill all at once. As you knelt before him, ready to give yourself over completely, you knew that in this world of smoke and shadows, of power and peril, there was no place you'd rather be than at the mercy of Tommy Shelby.

                                                             -x-

The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room where Tommy and John sat, deep in conversation. You stood quietly to the side, ready to attend to their needs, your eyes trained on Tommy, awaiting any signal from him. The atmosphere was tense, heavy with the weight of Shelby family business.

"Pour us another drink, pet," Tommy instructed, his eyes never leaving John's as they delved into the intricacies of a recent deal. His voice was calm but carried an undercurrent of command that you couldn't ignore. You nodded obediently, stepping forward to retrieve the ornate crystal whiskey bottle from the polished sideboard. The weight of the room's tension pressed down on you, making your hands tremble slightly as you grasped the bottle.

The conversation between Tommy and John was intense, laden with the gravity of their latest venture. As you carefully tipped the bottle to pour the rich, amber liquid into their glasses, a few drops escaped, splashing onto the dark mahogany table. The mistake felt monumental in the charged atmosphere.

Tommy's gaze snapped to you instantly, his piercing blue eyes narrowing with a mixture of irritation and disappointment. The room seemed to grow colder under his scrutiny. "What did I say about being careful?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous, each word enunciated with deliberate menace. The question wasn't just about the spilled whiskey; it was a reminder of the standards he expected you to uphold without error.

"I'm sorry, Tommy," you stammered, quickly wiping the spill with a cloth. But the damage was done.

"That's not good enough," Tommy said, standing up. "You need to learn to be more attentive. And it seems the only way you'll learn is with discipline."

John watched silently, his interest piqued. Tommy's hand gripped your wrist, pulling you to the centre of the room. He sat down on a sturdy chair, his eyes locking onto yours. "Over my knee," he commanded, and you complied immediately, laying yourself across his lap, your heart pounding in your chest.

"John," Tommy said, his voice calm but imbued with an unyielding firmness, "I apologise for the interruption, but it seems a demonstration of discipline is necessary."

John's eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and approval as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. A smirk played on his lips, adding a layer of casual cruelty to his otherwise relaxed demeanour. "Go on, Tommy. She needs to know her place."

Tommy's hand found the back of your neck, holding you in place as he adjusted your position over his knee. The anticipation was almost unbearable, the room silent except for the crackling of the fire.

"You've been a very naughty girl," Tommy murmured, his voice a low growl. "Do you know what happens to naughty girls?"

"They get punished," you whispered, your voice trembling but laced with a hint of desire.

"That's right," Tommy affirmed, his voice a velvety murmur that sent shivers down your spine. His hand, rough and calloused from years of hard-earned authority, caressed your backside with a deceptive tenderness. The touch was almost soothing, a prelude to the discipline that you knew was coming. 

Then, without warning, he delivered a sharp smack. The sound of the impact echoed through the room, a stark contrast to the quiet tension that had filled the air moments before. The sting spread through your body like wildfire, a sharp, searing sensation that caused you to gasp involuntarily. Your skin tingled, the pain mingling with a rush of adrenaline and a complex mix of emotions—embarrassment, submission, and a twisted sense of satisfaction.

The force of the smack left a lingering burn, a physical reminder of Tommy's absolute control over you. Your breath hitched, your body instinctively arching in response to the authoritative touch. Tommy's hand remained on you for a moment longer, the heat of his palm against your tingling skin.

Tommy continued, each smack firm and deliberate, his voice a constant presence. "You will learn to be more obedient. To follow orders as I ask. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Tommy," you replied, your voice shaking with a mix of pain and arousal.

John watched with a predatory gaze, his eyes never leaving your form as you endured each calculated smack. His posture was relaxed, but his attention was razor-sharp, taking in every detail of your reaction. The room seemed to hum with the electric tension between the three of you.

"Tommy," John finally commented, his voice laced with a dark amusement. "I think she’s enjoying this a bit too much." A smirk curved his lips, adding a layer of mockery to his observation.

Tommy paused, his hand resting on your reddened skin, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the sharp sting that still resonated through you. His piercing blue eyes bore into yours, searching for the truth you couldn't hide. "Is that true, pet? Do you enjoy being punished?" His voice was low, almost a purr, but it carried the weight of an expectation that you answer honestly.

Your cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and arousal, the conflicting emotions swirling within you. The vulnerability of the moment was almost overwhelming, but you couldn't deny the truth. "Yes, Tommy," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The confession felt like stripping away another layer of yourself, exposing your deepest desires to his unrelenting gaze.

Tommy's hand slid between your thighs with a deliberate slowness, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin there. The heat radiating from your core was undeniable, a testament to your arousal that you couldn't hide. He found the dampness easily, his touch both possessive and probing. "You're soaked," he observed, a dark chuckle escaping his lips, filled with a mix of amusement and satisfaction. The sound sent another shiver through you, intensifying the already potent cocktail of emotions swirling within you.

His eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze making it impossible to look away. "Maybe we need to remind you of your place in a different way," he said, his voice a low, dangerous growl that promised both pleasure and discipline.

John stood up, his eyes never leaving your form as he approached with a confident, almost predatory stride. The sound of his boots against the floorboards echoed in the room, each step adding to the mounting tension. He reached you, his presence imposing as he looked down at you with a smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes. "We can show you what real punishment is," he said, his voice rough with anticipation, the promise of something darker and more intense hanging in the air.

Tommy's hand remained firmly between your thighs, his fingers teasing the edges of your most sensitive areas, heightening your awareness of the power dynamic at play. The tension was almost unbearable, every nerve in your body alight with anticipation and fear. His thumb traced slow, deliberate circles, each touch sending jolts of electricity through you.

John's presence loomed over you, his eyes dark with intent. He reached out, his hand cupping your chin and tilting your head up to meet his gaze. His touch was rougher than Tommy's, a stark contrast that sent another wave of conflicting emotions through you. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for disobedience. You complied immediately, your eyes wide and brimming with both trepidation and eagerness.

Tommy's fingers pressed deeper, finding the core of your arousal. "You're going to learn," he murmured, his voice a velvet promise, "just how thoroughly we can discipline you." Tommy’s hand withdrew suddenly, leaving you aching and wanting, a deliberate and cruel act to keep you on edge.

John's grip on your chin tightened harshly, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "Let's see how well you can take what we give," he said, his tone a mixture of challenge and anticipation. He released your chin and stepped back, his eyes never leaving yours.

Tommy kept you in position over his knee, his hand threading through your hair, pulling your head back to look at him. "You see, pet, this is what happens when you disobey, or you can’t do as you’re told," he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of authority and desire. "You get punished, and you learn your place."

John's hand joined Tommy's, both of them exploring the exposed skin of your behind with a synchronised rhythm that was as intoxicating as it was overwhelming. Their hands moved skillfully, alternating between firm, punishing smacks and gentler, teasing caresses. The duality of their touch created a heady mix of pain and pleasure that left you breathless and trembling.

"You're such a good girl for us, ain’t you?" John said, his voice low and commanding, a dark promise woven into his words. His hand traced over the reddened skin, the warmth of his touch a lingering reminder of his authority. "So desperate to be used?"

"Yes, John," you replied, your voice filled with a mix of fear, longing, and a desperate need to please. The words felt like a vow, binding you further into the web of their control.

John's hand came down hard, the sting of the impact sending a sharp jolt of pain through you. The sensation mingled with the heat pooling between your legs, a potent reminder of your arousal. "That's a good girl," he growled, the approval in his voice making you shiver. "Now, tell me how much you need this."

"I need it so much," you gasped, your body trembling from the intensity of the sensations coursing through you. The admission felt like a release, a surrender to the overwhelming need that had built within you. "Please, don't stop."

Tommy's fingers brushed against your sensitive skin, teasing you with an almost unbearable precision. "Remember, pet," he said, his voice soft but unyielding, carrying the weight of an unspoken promise. "I control your pleasure and your pain. Don't ever forget that."

Your heart raced wildly, the intense connection between the three of you creating an undeniable mix of pain, pleasure, and absolute submission. This wasn't just a lesson; it was a deeply ingrained reminder of your place, of the power dynamics that ruled your world.

Tommy shifted slightly, making sure you felt every movement, every deliberate touch. His fingers danced expertly over your skin, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You whimpered, the heat between your legs building to an almost unbearable level. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps, your body trembling with anticipation.

"Please, Tommy," you begged, your voice barely a whisper, each word laden with desperate need. "Please, let me..."

Tommy's chuckle was dark, filled with a mixture of amusement and control. "You're so desperate," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "So needy. But you need to learn that your pleasure is a privilege, not a right."

His fingers continued their relentless teasing, bringing you right to the brink. Your body tensed, every nerve ending on fire, the promise of release so close you could almost taste it. The overwhelming need to climax consumed you, your senses attuned to every flicker of his touch.

John watched with a predatory gaze, his eyes never leaving your form. He seemed to drink in every reaction, every twitch and gasp. "Tommy, she looks like she's gonna break," he commented, his voice rough with anticipation, a dark thrill evident in his tone.

Tommy's grip on your hair tightened slightly, pulling your head back to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes was almost too much to bear. "Do you want to come, pet?" he asked, his voice low and commanding, each word a test of your obedience.

"Yes, Tommy," you gasped, your body trembling with the desperate need for release. "Please, I need to."

Tommy's fingers pressed harder, his touch pushing you right to the edge. You were so close, your body ready to explode with pleasure. The world seemed to narrow down to the point of contact, to the overwhelming sensation of his fingers against your skin.

And then, just as you were about to tip over the edge, Tommy's fingers stopped. He pulled his hand away, leaving you teetering on the brink, denied the release you so desperately craved. The sudden absence of his touch was almost painful, the denial more intense than the pleasure had been.

"Your punishment is over," Tommy said, his voice calm and controlled, a stark contrast to the turmoil within you. "But remember, your pleasure is something I control. You'll get it when I decide you've earned it."

You whimpered, the denial almost as intense as the pleasure had been. Your body ached with unfulfilled need, every nerve ending screaming for release. The sharp ache of disappointment mingled with a deeper, more profound longing.

John smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Tommy, you're a cruel fucker," he said, a dark chuckle escaping his lips, the sound sending another shiver through you.

Tommy's hand caressed your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle. "Discipline is necessary," he replied, his voice soft but firm, a gentle reassurance amidst the harshness. "And she'll learn to appreciate it."

He lifted you from his knee, setting you gently on your feet. Your legs wobbled, the aftershocks of denied pleasure making it hard to stand. The weakness in your legs was a physical manifestation of your submission, a reminder of the control they held over you.

"Go to your room, pet," Tommy ordered, his eyes locking onto yours with a commanding intensity.

You nodded, your cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and desire. "Yes, Tommy," you whispered, turning to leave the room. Each step felt heavy, the weight of their control pressing down on your shoulders.

As you walked away, you could feel their eyes on you, the weight of their dominance a palpable presence. Despite the humiliation, there was a part of you that craved this, that needed the discipline and the reminder of your place.

And as you closed the door behind you, you knew that this was only the beginning. The Shelby brothers were not done with you yet.

[librababe99]

Moments Between Time: Epilogue

CW: Talks of anxiety, suggestive content Word count: 1126 Summary: In the aftermath of a harrowing battle, Logan struggles with the weight of what almost was. As you both navigate the lingering shadows of the past, an unexpected moment deepens the bond between you in ways neither could have anticipated.

A/N: And this officially wraps up Moments Between Time! I'm happy with the direction this story took and most importantly I hope it was enjoyable for all of you...💖Again, thank you for the interactions with this series...its so exciting to see it reach so many different people! - Libra * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

(Part one) (Part two) (Part three) (Part four)

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The weeks that followed the battle were a strange mix of relief and uncertainty. The mansion, once a fortress brimming with tension, slowly returned to its usual rhythm, but there was an underlying sense that things had changed—irrevocably. Life had been saved, but the scars of what could have been still lingered in the air.

Logan was quieter these days, his usual gruffness softened by a deep, contemplative silence that seemed to hang over him. You often found him in those moments, staring off into the distance, lost in thoughts of a future that had almost been—and the losses he’d endured along the way.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you found him in the living room, nursing a drink. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting warm, flickering light across his face. He looked up as you entered, his eyes softening at the sight of you.

"Hey," you said, offering a small smile as you sat beside him.

"Hey," he replied, his voice low and rough, but there was a warmth in it that made your heart flutter.

For a while, neither of you spoke, content to simply exist in each other’s presence. It was a comfort you both cherished, this quiet understanding between you.

"Do you ever think about it?" Logan asked suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was barely above a whisper, as if he were afraid of the answer.

"Think about what?" you asked, though you had a feeling you already knew.

"The future that almost was. The one we fought to stop." His gaze dropped to the glass in his hand, watching the amber liquid swirl slowly. "Sometimes it feels like it’s still there, just out of reach… like a shadow that won’t go away."

You reached out, covering his hand with yours, grounding him in the moment. "I think about it," you admitted, your voice gentle. "But then I remind myself that it’s gone. We changed it. We fought for this, for what we have now."

Logan’s eyes met yours, and there was something raw and vulnerable in his gaze. "What if… what if something else happens? What if I can’t protect you?"

"You don’t have to protect me from everything, Logan," you said softly, squeezing his hand. 

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly struggling with the weight of his thoughts. "I’ve lost so much… I can’t lose you too."

"You won’t," you said firmly, shifting closer to him. "I’m not going anywhere. We’ve been through hell together, and we came out the other side. That’s not going to change."

Logan looked at you, his expression softening. "You’re too good for me, you know that?"

You chuckled, leaning your head on his shoulder. "You’ve got it backwards. You’re the one who’s always been there, even when things got tough. You’re the strongest person I know… and you’ve got the biggest heart."

A small, almost shy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I don’t know about all that."

"I do," you said, lifting your head to look at him. "You’re everything to me. And I’m not going to let you forget it."

He stared at you for a long moment, as if trying to commit every detail of your face to memory. Then, without a word, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both gentle and intense, a silent promise of everything he felt but couldn’t say. 

The kiss slowly deepened, the air around you thickening with desire. Logan’s hands roamed down your body, gripping your waist and pulling you closer until you were straddling his lap. His muscles tensed beneath your touch, the tension in his body unmistakable—an urgent, raw need that sent a thrill through you.

"Logan…" you whispered against his lips, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the heat radiating from him, the steady, powerful thump of his heartbeat beneath your fingers.

He groaned, a deep, primal sound, as his lips moved to your neck, trailing fiery kisses that made you shiver. "I need you," he murmured, his voice rough with want.

Your breath hitched at his words, your body responding with a surge of heat. "I’m right here," you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him even closer.

With a low growl, he shifted, his strength overpowering as he pinned you beneath him on the couch, his body pressing down against yours. The weight of him was intoxicating, every inch of him hard and warm against your skin. The world outside vanished, leaving only the electric connection between you, the desperate, shared need.

"I love you," Logan whispered, his voice husky in your ear, the words filled with a fierce intensity that sent a jolt of heat through you. "More than anything."

You smiled, breathless, your heart swelling with an overwhelming love for him. "I know," you whispered back, your hands sliding down his back, nails lightly grazing his skin, drawing a low, guttural moan from him.

He kissed you again, harder this time, the urgency in his touch undeniable. His hands explored your body, each touch sending sparks of pleasure through you. Time blurred, the night stretching out as you lost yourselves in each other, every moment filled with heat and passion.

Finally, as the firelight dimmed to a soft glow, you lay tangled together on the couch, bodies still humming from the intensity of your connection. Logan held you close, his arms wrapped around you tightly, as if he could never let you go, both of you lost in the lingering warmth of your embrace.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible in the quiet room.

"For what?" you asked, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest.

"For being here," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "For loving me… for not giving up on me."

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. "There’s no one else I’d rather be with," you whispered, your voice full of love and certainty.

Logan sighed contentedly, his grip on you tightening slightly as if to remind himself that you were real, that you were here. "I don’t deserve you," he murmured, his voice low and full of reverence.

"You deserve everything, Logan," you whispered back, your voice firm. "And I’m going to make sure you know that, every single day."

He didn’t reply, but the way he held you, the way he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, said more than words ever could. As you lay there in his arms, the past and future no longer seemed as daunting. There would be challenges ahead, no doubt—but as long as you were together, you knew you could face anything. You both could  build a life worth fighting for.

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[winchesterwild78]

An Unexpected Friendship

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, Jensen’s children

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Domestic Violence, Language, mention of death

A/N: This is a short story written in collaboration with @cheekygirl2309. In this story the reader is a widow who has a 4 year old daughter. She’s dating a very abusive man, so she enrolls her daughter in preschool to keep her as shielded as possible. At the preschool we find her daughter has made friends with a set of twins. At pick up one day the reader realizes the parent of her daughter’s best friend is none other than Jensen Ackles. A friendship forms, and decisions are made after a particularly nasty fight with her boyfriend. 

No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life.

*This chapter sets up the story-it’s a bit long due to this.*

Minors DNI 18+

You sat on the side of your bed rubbing your arm, trying to get the sting of the pain to go away. Another night, another argument with Robert, your boyfriend. You’d only been dating about 9 months, and at first everything seemed perfect. You felt the sting of the tears fill your eyes 

Knowing how much he hated when you cried, you fought to keep them at bay. Crying after he hit you only made things worse. You were thankful, however, your four year old daughter, Jazmyne was already in bed. 

You did your best to keep her shielded from the violence that plagued your life now. Your late husband, Josh, was a kind, gentle man. He wouldn’t lift a hand to you and was an amazing father to Jazmyne. Josh was so gentle that if a spider got into the house he’d scoop it up and carry it outside. He died unexpectedly after a workplace accident. Your heart was irrevocably broken when the two of you lost him. 

Now Robert was in your lives. You met him at a house party and he swept you off your feet. The first time he hit you, the two of you were arguing and things got heated quickly. Then he slapped you across your face, drawing blood from your mouth. You made him leave and told him it was over. 

For almost a month you kept him at bay. Then loneliness, apologies and manipulation took over. You took him back. Things were fine, and then a switch flipped again. 

The latest fight was over dinner. You’d come home late from work and he was mad because dinner was late. After picking Jazmyne up at your friend’s house you decided to stop and grab a pizza. When you got home, he was there and became angry when he saw the pizza box.

“What the fuck is that?” He growled as he motioned to the box. “It’s dinner, and I’ve asked you not to use that language in front of my daughter.” He stepped closer to you and grabbed your chin hard, “I’ll talk however the fuck I want you stupid bitch!” You jerked your face away and set the box down. 

Looking at Jazmyne you spoke softly, “Go play while mommy gets your dinner ready, okay?” Your beautiful little girl nodded and bounded down the hall to her room. 

You grabbed a plate for your toddler and started to cut up her slice of pizza. “You’re a lazy fucking whore, you know that. What kind of mother doesn’t cook for her family?” You ignored him and kept getting Jazmyne’s food ready. 

He grabbed your arm hard, pulling you around to face him and causing you to drop her plate. “Don’t you fucking ignore me. I asked you a question.” “Robert, I’m not in the mood to fight with you. I think you should leave. I’m exhausted and I need to get Jazzy ready for dinner and bed. I don’t have time to deal with this.”

You tried to pull your arm out of his grip, but it was too tight. “Let me the fuck go!” You yelled. 

Robert got in your face, his eyes dark with anger, “I’ll let you go when I feel like it. You belong to ME!” He let go of you, grabbed some food and went to sit in the living room. You walked towards Jazmyne’s room and found her crying.

You ran in and got on the floor, “Oh baby, what’s wrong?” “He hurt mommy.” She softly said. You scooped her up and held her tight, knowing you needed to make a change before it was too late. “I’m okay baby girl, I promise. Let’s go eat our pizza and we can play with your new bath paint tonight.” 

She smiled wide and nodded. You took her into the kitchen, put her at the table and got her a piece of pizza. You cut her slice and grabbed you one too. You noticed she kept looking towards Robert and you could see the fear in her eyes. You knew exactly what you needed to do. 

After dinner, you got Jazmyne in the tub and she played with her new bath paint. She talked about her new friends at preschool and how much fun they were. You had recently put her in preschool to help her socialize and to shield her from the crap between you and Robert. 

“So, Jazzy, what are their names?” You asked her as she excitedly talked about her new friends. “Arrow and Zeppy, they are twins, well his name is Zeppelin, but everyone calls him Zeppy.” She said with a smile on her face. You almost choked on air. There was no way these children are the children of the man you’d pined after, Jensen Ackles. You’d been a fan of his for years and watched everything he was in, at least twice. You were heartbroken when you heard his wife died during childbirth. She was giving birth to the twins, and there were complications. 

Jensen disappeared from public life after the death of his wife. He still acted on Supernatural, but his appearances in public and at conventions stopped. It wasn’t until recently he had started to make sporadic appearances and going back to conventions. 

After her bath you got her ready and into bed. Walking into the living room you saw Robert sitting on the couch. “We need to talk.” You said as you walked in. He looked up from his phone and his jaw clenched. 

“I’m going to record this conversation for my protection and yours. I don’t want any confusion as to what is being said tonight.” You told him as you hit record on your phone and he scoffed.

“I deserve better than to be with someone who puts their hands on me. My priority is my daughter, and she always will be. I don’t want her to grow up thinking it’s okay to be hit or grabbed by someone who says they love her. I want you to leave, and not come back. I’m not doing this anymore. We aren’t good for each other, so this, (you motioned between the two of you), is over.” 

Robert sat silently. The eerie silence sent a chill through your body. He sat up and started to speak low, “If that’s what you think, then I guess there isn’t anything I can do about it.” “That’s what I’m saying. I need your key.” He pulled out his keys and took the house key off his ring. Then he stood up, grabbed his stuff and left. 

You let out the breath you were holding and quickly went and locked up the house. You called your best friend and told her what happened. She was glad you finally kicked him out. “Do you need me to come over tonight?” She asked. “No, he left his key, so I’m sure it’s going to be okay.” You reassured her. “Okay, well I’m proud of you, if you need me, let me know.” “I will, I love you girl.” “Love you too, bye.” 

Hanging up you grabbed your pajamas and went to take a shower. Climbing in you felt the pain from Robert’s abuse. You cried. Your tears mixing with the water that cascaded from the showerhead. 

After your shower you climbed into bed and scrolled on your phone. You found yourself on Jensen’s Instagram page, smiling at the pictures he’d posted of himself and his children. A new post popped up and it made your heart flutter. It was a picture of his twins and he captioned it with “These two are rocking their first year of preschool. Zeppy has a new little friend he talks about all the time. He said she’s a princess because her name is Jasmine.” Your eyes went wide, was he talking about your Jazzy? You smiled and put your phone down, falling asleep.

The next morning you got Jazzy up and ready for school. On the drive there she was really quiet. “Jazzy, baby, what’s wrong?” You looked in the mirror and met your daughter’s big green eyes. They were full of sadness and fear, “I’m scared mommy.” A frown formed on your face, “What are you scared of baby?” “Robert. He hurt you.” “Oh baby, I’m okay. I made him leave. He won’t be back. It’s just you and me now.” A small smile formed on her face.

Getting her out of her seat at the school the two of you walked hand in hand towards the entrance. Your daughter squealed in excitement and dropped your hand, taking off towards two children. “Arrow, Zeppy!” She squealed. The two children turned around and smiled, running towards her. 

You continued walking and made it to the very excited children. Hugs were exchanged and giggles filled the air. Then there he was, Jensen Ackles. He chuckled as he walked up to you and the three children, “Oh this must be the little princess.” You smiled as your eyes met his. He extended his hand, “Hello, I’m Jensen, and these two are mine, Arrow and Zeppelin.” You extended your hand to shake his hand, not realizing there was a bruise on your arm or on the side of your face. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Y/N and this little one is Jazmyn. I’ve heard so much about your children from her. They are really sweet to her.” 

You noticed his eyes kept scanning you and that’s when you noticed the bruise. You pulled your arm back and felt the embarrassment fill your cheeks. Zeppelin spoke up, breaking the silence between you and Jensen, “Daddy, can we have a playdate after school? Pleeease.” The three children were looking up at Jensen and you. “Well, how about we plan something for the weekend, that way you three can have longer to play, I mean if it’s okay with you.” He looked at you. “Oh absolutely. Besides, I have to work late today and Jazzy will be at her Auntie Nichole’s house.” 

Jensen grabbed the twins’ hands and started to walk towards the door, “We probably should get them inside.” He gestured. “Yeah, don’t want them to be late.” 

After saying your goodbyes, you and Jensen walked towards the parking lot together. “Hey, Y/N. Let me give you my number so we can work out the details of the playdate, and if um, you need anything, please call me.” You offered him a soft smile, “That would be great, Jensen, thank you. I know Jazzy will love it.”

The two of you said your goodbyes, and as you started to walk away Jensen stopped and called your name. “Hey, Y/N.” He stepped closer to you, “He’s an asshole and you don’t deserve that. I promise we aren’t all like that. If you need anything, please call me.” “Thank you, Jensen. For everything, and just so you know I made him leave and broke up with him.” Jensen smiled and lightly touched your arm, “good”. 

Hours later your shift was done. Nichole had picked Jazzy up from school and she was going to bring her home later. You pulled into your driveway and walked in your house. Putting your stuff down you decided you’d take a quick shower before Jazmyne got home. 

Getting out of the shower and getting dressed you walked into the living room and turned on the television. Just as you sat down the doorbell rang. You thought it was Nichole with Jazmyne, but you were wrong. Standing in front of you with eyes full of rage was Robert. 

“Robert, what the hell are you doing here?” Before you could get an answer he came into the house and punched you across the face. You fell to the ground and he started kicking you and punching you. 

You put your hands up to defend yourself and screamed and cried for help and for him to stop. After what felt like hours, he finally left. You laid on the floor, bleeding and in so much pain. You found the strength to grab your phone and pushed the call button. 

“Hello?” The voice on the other end said. You were in and out of consciousness. You started to speak weakly, “Help me…” “Y/N!? Is that you? It was Jensen. You accidentally called Jensen. “Y/N! Answer me, what’s wrong?”

All you could get out was “Jazzy.” Before you passed out. Jensen hung up, called the headmaster at the preschool and told them what happened. They told Jensen they would call 911, he asked for your address but they wouldn’t give it to him. 

Panic filled his body. He called Jared and had him and Gen watch the kids. He was heading to the closest hospital to wait to see if you were brought there. 

The ambulance arrived and Jensen saw you. He tried to get the nurse to tell him what was going on with you, but she wouldn’t give him any information. He paced the waiting room floor and tried everything he could think of to get someone to give him information. 

About 30 minutes later he saw Jazmyne come in with a woman who was close to your age. Jazmyne immediately saw Jensen and ran to him. Nichole tried to grab her, but she was too quick. 

Jensen scooped her up and she threw her arms around his neck, “Hey Jazzy, are you okay? You’re not hurt are you?” Nichole stepped closer, “Oh hi, um how do you know Y/N and Jazzy?” “Hi, I’m Jensen. Jazzy goes to daycare with my twins, and that’s how I know Y/N. She and I just met today, but I’ve known Jazzy.” 

Nichole stretched her hand out, “Hi, I’m Nichole, Y/N’s best friend. Do you know what happened?”

“Not really. She called me and all she said was “Help me, then she said Jazzy’s name. I didn’t know her address so I called the headmaster and told her what happened. I can only assume this was her ex’s doing. She told me she kicked him out.” “She did, but I think he came back over tonight.”

Just then the doctor came out. “I’m here for the family of Ms Y/L/N” Jensen and Nichole stepped forward. “Hi, we’re her family. How is she?” “I’m Dr Fitzpatrick and I’ve been treating her. She has multiple lacerations, some broken ribs, a broken nose and orbital bone, and lots of bruising. She was beat up so badly we have to put her in a medically induced coma to help her body heal. She will be in it for a few days.” 

Jensen and Nichole gasped, “When can we see her?” Nichole asked softly. “You can see her one at a time, but I don’t recommend you take her in there.” The doctor nodded. They both nodded, “Nichole, you go and I’ll stay with Jazzy.” 

Nichole nodded, thanked Jensen and walked to your room. About 30 minutes later Nichole was walking back into the waiting room with red, puffy eyes.

Jensen walked up to her and gave her a hug. She sobbed into his chest. “Jensen, she looks so bad. How could anyone ever do something like that to her. She’s such an amazing person.” Jensen just held her tight. “Do you mind if I go see her?” He asked softly. She shook her head. 

As Jensen walked down the hallway his heart rate sped up. When he saw you laying in your bed, bloodied, bruised and broken his heart ached and anger filled his body. Robert had to pay. He sat beside your side and held your hand, “Hey Y/N, Jazzy is safe. We need you to get better. I can’t plan that playdate by myself.” He chuckled as he held you tight.

Before he left the room, he leaned over and kissed your forehead. He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but he felt the need to do it, “You’re safe Y/N, and so is Jazzy. I promise you both will be safe.”

Jensen walked back towards Nichole and Jazzy. He gave Nichole his number and told her if she needed anything, or any help with Jazzy to give him a call or send him a text. She nodded and said thank you. 

Jazzy clung tightly to his neck, and Nichole had to pry him off. Jensen stepped closer, “hey, Jazzy, maybe Auntie Nichole can bring you over tomorrow afternoon so you can play with the Arrow and Zeppy, would you like that? She nodded wildly, “Okay, see you tomorrow then.” 

Then Jensen was gone. A few hours later, when she was sure you were out of the woods, she and Jazzy left for the night. 

She was worried about you, but Jensen, oh Jensen was worried about you, Jazzy, and wanted to hurt Robert for hurting you. He couldn’t shake the feeling, but drove home. 

You were left laying in the bed, listening to the sounds of conversations and unable to react or speak to them. You heard Jensen, felt Jensen, and above all you felt his emotion behind his voice. That was something you were thankful to have heard and felt, at least that and Jazzy gave you something worth fighting for. 

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@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld

@nancymcl @baby19sthings

@cheekygirl2309 @oceean

@kindollss @foxyjwls007

@lmg14 @cevansbaby-dove

@spxideyver @reignsboy19

@deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy

@ladykitana90 @quietgirll75 

@superrey @kamisobsessed

@obliviousap @ninii-winchester

@mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @whimsyfinny

@bobbdylan

[queereads-bracket]

Queer Adult SFF Books Bracket: Round 1

Book summaries below:

The Watchmaker of Filigree Street by Natasha Pulley

1883. Thaniel Steepleton returns home to his tiny London apartment to find a gold pocket watch on his pillow. Six months later, the mysterious timepiece saves his life, drawing him away from a blast that destroys Scotland Yard. At last, he goes in search of its maker, Keita Mori, a kind, lonely immigrant from Japan. Although Mori seems harmless, a chain of unexplainable events soon suggests he must be hiding something. When Grace Carrow, an Oxford physicist, unwittingly interferes, Thaniel is torn between opposing loyalties.

The Watchmaker of Filigree Street is a sweeping, atmospheric narrative that takes the reader on an unexpected journey through Victorian London, Japan as its civil war crumbles long-standing traditions, and beyond. Blending historical events with dazzling flights of fancy, it opens doors to a strange and magical past.

Fantasy, historical fiction, mystery, science fiction, adult

The Burning Kingdoms series (The Jasmine Throne, The Oleander Sword, The Lotus Empire) by Tasha Suri

Author of Empire of Sand and Realm of Ash Tasha Suri’s The Jasmine Throne, beginning a new trilogy set in a world inspired by the history and epics of India, in which a captive princess and a maidservant in possession of forbidden magic become unlikely allies on a dark journey to save their empire from the princess’s traitor brother.

Imprisoned by her dictator brother, Malini spends her days in isolation in the Hirana: an ancient temple that was once the source of the powerful, magical deathless waters — but is now little more than a decaying ruin.

Priya is a maidservant, one among several who make the treacherous journey to the top of the Hirana every night to clean Malini’s chambers. She is happy to be an anonymous drudge, so long as it keeps anyone from guessing the dangerous secret she hides.

But when Malini accidentally bears witness to Priya’s true nature, their destinies become irrevocably tangled. One is a vengeful princess seeking to depose her brother from his throne. The other is a priestess seeking to find her family. Together, they will change the fate of an empire.

Fantasy, epic fantasy, politics, secondary world, series, adult

[shybluebirdninja]

FADED DAYS: PART 7 (THE FINAL)

Summary: In a bleak world where Logan has lost his purpose, an unexpected connection with his nurse brings a spark of humanity back into his fading life as an Uber driver.

Pairing             : Uber-Driver!Logan Howlett x Nurse!Fem-reader

Genre              : Heavy Angst

The hospital room is dim, the steady beeping of the heart monitor filling the silence. You sit by Logan’s bedside, the pale morning light casting long shadows across the floor. The air feels heavy, thick with the weight of what’s coming.

Logan’s eyes flutter open, his breath shallow and labored. He looks older than you’ve ever seen him, his once-powerful body now frail and weak. The sight of him like this tugs at something deep inside you—a feeling of helplessness you can’t shake.

“Hey,” you say softly, trying to keep your voice steady. “You’re awake.”

He turns his head towards you, his brow furrowed in confusion. It takes him a moment to recognize you, but when he does, a faint smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“You’re still here?” His voice is raspy, barely above a whisper.

“Of course I am,” you reply, squeezing his hand gently. “I told you I’m not going anywhere.”

Logan chuckles weakly, the sound more of a wheeze than a laugh. “Stubborn... just like me.”

You smile, though it feels hollow. You can see how much pain he’s in, the way his body is betraying him. It’s not fair, you think—not after everything he’s been through. Not after all the times he’s fought, survived, lived through unimaginable pain. But this? This slow, cruel decay? It feels like the universe’s last, twisted joke.

“You should... go,” Logan says after a moment, his voice barely audible. “Ain’t no point in... watching this.”

“No,” you say firmly, blinking back the tears that threaten to spill. “I’m staying right here.”

He sighs, his eyelids drooping as exhaustion pulls him down again. “Always were a stubborn one.”

For a long time, neither of you speaks. You just sit there, holding his hand, listening to the rhythmic beeping of the machines, the soft hiss of the oxygen tank. Logan’s breaths come slower, more strained, and every second that passes feels like it’s slipping away too fast.

“Logan,” you say quietly, breaking the silence. “I... I don’t want you to go.”

His eyes flicker open again, and he turns to look at you. There’s something different in his gaze now—something softer, more vulnerable. The barriers he’s spent a lifetime building are finally, irrevocably down.

“Everyone goes, kid,” he says, his voice hoarse. “It’s just... my turn.”

A lump forms in your throat, and you can’t stop the tears from spilling now. “But it’s not fair.”

Logan lets out a breath, his hand squeezing yours weakly. “It never was.”

You take a deep, shaky breath, trying to hold yourself together. But it’s hard—so damn hard—watching the man who seemed indestructible slowly fade away in front of you.

“Remember what I told you,” he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper now.

You nod, your heart aching. “I remember.”

Logan closes his eyes again, his breathing ragged. His hand is still in yours, but it’s grown weaker. The tremors that once wracked his body are gone, replaced by a stillness that scares you more than anything.

“I’ll miss you,” you whisper, the words catching in your throat. “Even if you’re a grumpy old bastard.”

A faint, almost imperceptible smile crosses his face. “Yeah... me too.”

There’s a long pause, the quiet stretching out between you like an eternity. Logan’s breaths are shallow now, and you know—deep down—you’re at the end.

But you don’t feel ready. You’re not sure you’ll ever be ready.

“Hey,” you say, your voice cracking. “Logan...?”

His hand goes slack in yours.

The beeping of the heart monitor slows, each beat dragging out longer and longer until it finally stops. The sound that follows is a flat, unwavering tone that seems to echo in your chest.

And then, silence.

You sit there for a moment, frozen, unable to move. The reality of what’s happened hasn’t fully sunk in yet. Logan—grumpy, stubborn, impossible Logan—is gone.

The tears come hard and fast, and you don’t bother trying to stop them. You bury your face in your hands, your shoulders shaking with the force of your sobs. It’s not just the loss of Logan—it’s everything. His pain, his loneliness, the fact that no matter how much you cared, you couldn’t save him from this.

It’s later when the nurse comes in, a solemn expression on her face. She doesn’t say anything—just gently touches your shoulder and nods toward the door. You know what she’s asking without words.

But before you leave, you lean over Logan one last time, your heart heavy with grief.

“Goodbye, Logan,” you whisper softly. “You weren’t alone. Not in the end.”

You stand and walk away, leaving the room, leaving him behind. The door clicks shut behind you, and with it, an era ends. But somewhere deep down, you know that Logan—fierce, broken, brave Logan—found some peace in those final moments. That, somehow, he didn’t leave this world alone. And that’s enough.

(THE END)

[im-probably-crying-rn-ngl]

alternative universe where george's now ex-best friends alex and lando, send in an application for a dating show...on george's behalf. the premise of the show includes matching a list celebrities with "normal people" with the hope of finding love in the places where one least expects it. like an accountant for example. somehow george gets a call back and is expectantly quite reluctant to go. but when new best friend charles tells him lewis hamilton, life long celebrity crush, will be on the show, george can't resist.

lewis has everything. money, fame, power. and a very pushy pr manager. despite having the music industry in the palm of his hand, it's been scandal after scandal ever since his public breakup with international popstar nico rosberg years ago. but now lewis has really done it, a rumoured affair with a very married music producer has landed him in hot water. but jenson's brilliant solution is to send lewis on a dating show. it's simple, follow whatever storyline the producers of 'love, unexpected' have come up with and appear madly, deeply, irrevocably in love. lewis is quite reluctant to play this role. but when he meets george russell, 26 year old phd student, on the show, lewis can't resist.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 16

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Hi.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Mr. Laufeyson leaves you to wash up the porcelain. You sigh in relief at having space to breathe. You can't decide if he's testing you. You suspect this might be him keeping an eye on you, just as he had before. Still waiting for you to mess up irrevocably. 

Thursdays entail a tidy of the second floor. With the carpenter in and the unexpected distraction, your schedule is delayed. You begin your canvas of the upper floor, dragging broom and vacuum along as you go through every room.

You stop before the study and knock. There's no answer. You try again and rap on the wood. Again, nothing. You enter and find it empty.

You wipe down the surfaces, dusting and shaking out the curtains before you run over the carpet and drapes with the vacuum hose. You proceed into the library but there isn't much to do there. You stop as you find your bag waiting in the chair behind the writing desk. You can't recall bringing it up but you must have.

You finish up and ease the door shut as you return to the hall. You hear a low drone, only realising it's a voice as you open the half-bath on the other side. You try not to overhear as Laufeyson's words grow clearer the closer you get. You hide in the bathroom, collecting the towels to replace. You put then in the hall and go down to the linen closet.

"Yes, tomorrow," his insistence pierces through, "I know, I know, we will talk. I... I'm sorry for all that."

He's quiet and you take that as your cue to retreat. You shouldn't be listening. You hang the fresh towels and gather the used ones to take down to the laundry room. As you come back up, Mr. Laufeyson emerges from his room, no jacket over his pressed button-up, as he rolls his sleeves to his elbows. His eyes flit up as you tiptoe along the hall and he nods as you pass.

"Have you gotten to the study?" He asks.

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson."

"Great, I will require privacy," he states.

"Mr. Laufeyson," you take the broom from against the wall and roll the vacuum towards his room, you pause before you can get there. 

There's a click in his throat as his gaze shrouds you, "don't worry, you will have no unseemly scenes from me, today."

The allusion to your unfortunate foray under the bed sets your cheeks alight. You wince and reach for the handle, biting down on your tongue. You push through slowly and set the broom inside. As you turn back, he remains just outside his study.

"A joke," he assures as he presses the door inward, "or an attempt."

He shrugs and disappears. You suck in your cheeks and think. Is he being nice or is he mocking you? You wish he would go back to be the stoic, strict man with the cold words. You're used to spite and while you long for warmth, you're comforted by the familiar.

Too much thinking, you rebuke yourself. Just get on with it.

🧹

Just after noon, you decide to take your break early. You usually wait until at least one but moving and bending and sweeping has left you lightheaded.

You go downstairs and refill your water bottle. You find your way to patio, the sunlight forming rings in your vision. You see the untouched pitcher, the ice melted and the water no doubt warm.

You leave your bottle and take the pitcher. You refresh it and come back out to footfalls on the steps. You look up as Ronan climbs onto the patio, a sheen of sweat across his face and arms, dampening the chest of his shirt and the edges of his sleeves. You smile as you set down the cold water.

"Just topping up," you say.

"Great timing," he sets down the lunch bag in his left hand, resting his other on the back of an iron chair, "do you mind?"

"Uh, no," you look at your water bottle, "actually, I could just go inside--"

"Wouldn't mind the company," he pulls out the chair and sits, "solitary work, I was chatting with the birds."

"Oh," your cheeks pinch.

He laughs at himself, "not really but I was tempted."

He tugs back the zipper and flips up the top of the bag. You lower yourself into a chair and play with the cap of the water bottle. You flip the nozzle up and down, watching the sparrows chirping wildly in the vines.

"Nice day," he remarks, "glad I get to work in the shade though."

"Hm, yeah, it must be nice to work outside," you agree and turn the water bottle nervously. You don't want to be rude and run off but you were looking forward to a quiet moment alone.

He pours himself a glass of water as you chew your lip. You stare off at the green expanse and lean your elbows on the table, still clutching the bottle tightly. As the silence settles, a rumble erupts from your stomach, squeezing your insides painfully. You look down meekly and lean back, drawing your arms back to fold your hands in your lap. You hope he didn't hear it too.

"You know," he says as he rustles a wrapper, "I've been known to pack too much." He takes half the sandwich and slides the other towards you, "wanna help me out?"

"Oh, no, I couldn't--" your stomach roars as if trying to drown you out.

"Really, I can't eat it all myself. Working out in the sun, I'll make myself sick."

"I'm okay, that's really nice of you--"

"I'd hate for it to go to waste," he insists, "you don't like ham and cheese?"

"No, I-- I don't mind it but..." you rub your arm, once more pressing on the bruise hidden under your sleeve, "that's... lovely, thank you."

You sit forward, not wanting to argue. Besides, you are starving. Your head is starting to pound and your stomach is knotting around itself. You accept the sandwich and carefully lift it up, nibbling on the corner.

"I brought some nuts, you think that chipmunk would like some?" He muses.

You can't help but smile, "probably."

"He doesn't really like me. I don't think I've ever heard one of those things growl before," he reaches in the bag and takes out a small container, "maybe you could try."

"Oh, uh..." you blink down at the plastic, "I guess... I mostly work inside."

"Ah, yes, it is a very nice house," he comments as he peers over at the brick, his eyes narrowing slightly as he stares then squares his shoulders and refocuses on you, "and your boss... he keeps you inside?"

"Well, no, I uh, I just... have stuff to do," you take another small bite.

"Mmm," he hums, "he keeps you busy."

You nod and shrug. The work can't be as hard as his. You don't think you could aim a hammer.

"Don't worry, I know his type. Up in their castles, they hate to brush shoulders with anyone outside their court," he scoffs, "you're a strong woman for putting up with it."

"I... he isn't...I'm not..." you don't know what to say without flat-out lying. Mr. Laufeyson might not be very amiable but he is still your boss. "It's just a job."

His eyes drift against and his thick brows twitch. He slowly raises the sandwich and takes and bite, the tension slowly leaving his posture. You glance back as a trickle runs down your spine. 

You peek up to where his eyes had lingered. The curtains seem to flutter but it's too far away to tell for sure. You face the table again and gulp down the layers of bread, lettuce, and meat.

Ronan isn't so bad. It'll be nice to have someone else around for a while. Especially, someone who doesn't reprimand your every breath.

🧹

The end of the day nears and you look over your list. You've caught up on a few things planned for tomorrow even. You want to be able to catch up after whatever Mr. Laufeyson has planned. He'll be expecting as much.

You'll stay until Ronan is done for the day but in the meantime, you have a few last hanging threads to tie off. You go to the door to the study and knock. Almost as soon as your knuckles tap, a response sounds, “come in.”

You obey and twist the handle. Mr. Laufeyson sits and examines what appears to be a scroll, diligently polishing the brass ends with a cloth.  You don't question him, you know better than that. Even so, you are curious.

“Um, Mr. Laufeyson, there are few notes I got from the carpenter–”

“Ah,” his brows rise as his eyes flick towards you. His hand stills as he keeps a slight bend in his neck, “Roman, was it?”

“Ronan, I think, uh,” you hover around the other side of his desk, “he has a few suggestions here. If you'd like to review–”

“Suggestions?” He tilts his head.

You take the prompt and look at the page, “um, okay, he recommends replacing the whole floor of the gazebo as the wood is rotting around the broken pieces and the moss has compromised the integrity.”

“Do it,” he sighs and sets the scroll down as he sits up completely.

“And the pillars, if he does just the one, it won't match the rest…”

“Tell me, does he do tear down? I'm starting to think we may as well be rid of the damned thing.”

“I could ask,” you frown.

“I was being facetious,” he sniffs, “though I'm sure you're all too eager to have another chat with that man.”

“Hmmm?” Your crinkle your brow.

“Did you enjoy your lunch?” He wonders.

You blanch. Had he seen that? And by what chance? Was it him stirring by the curtains?

“The sun was nice,” you say, “I wasn't out very long.”

“No, no, you should have breaks,” he says, “you work very hard, don't you?”

You blink. Is he saying something between the lines?

“I'll have my lunch in the kitchen tomorrow–”

“I am not trying to confine you,” he interjects brusquely, “you act as if I am a dictator. I never said you can't have a break. Nor did I say you shouldn't enjoy the sunshine–” he huffs and shows his palm in exasperation, “we are not arguing, alright? I am conversing with you.” He puts his hand down as it forms a fist, “I am simply checking in.”

You stare at him blankly. Your nerves swirl as you fidget. You can't stand this. The words being left unsaid as he pretends. Your heart pumps behind your ears as you feel it all spilling over.

“Mr. Laufeyson,” your voice quivers, “about yesterday…”

“Yesterday? Why, that was your personal day,” he says coyly.

“Look, uh, I know you heard… some things and I just wanna clear it up. It was nothing.”

“I don't know what you mean,” he squints, “it was only dead air. A misdial, I assume–”

“Then why–” you stop yourself and shake your head. “Nevermind.”

“Go on,” he urges, “why…”

You look away and rock. You've gone too far. You should know to just shut up.

“Why are you being so… nice?” You eke out as you dare to glance at him.

His irises flash like glittering emeralds. He slowly reclines and plants his elbow on the armrest and brings his fingers to his chin. He gives a thoughtful hum.

“I'm not nice?” He asks.

“Well, no, I didn't mean--f-forget I said anything,” you clasp your hands behind your back. “It's only…” you sputter and search for a way back but you can only go forward, “you made me tea.”

His eyes flit to the ceiling and back to you, “I did.”

“Why?” You ask.

“It's tea,” he throws his hands up and reclines against the chair, “just tea.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he echoes tritely, “what else would it be?”

“I'm sorry, Mr. Laufeyson, I shouldn't have said anything.”

“If you didn't like the tea, you could just say,” he continues, further throwing you off.

“It was good, I just…” you tug at your cuffs, “may I go?”

“Go?”

“The carpenter is leaving and it's almost five–”

“Yes, go see him off,” he snips, “and run along.” He scowls and taps his fingers on the desk in agitation, “as well, to show how nice I can be, I will allow you to sleep in tomorrow. I will not require you until noon.”

“Noon, yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

“Mm,” he grumbles and spins his chair away from you.

You shrink down and drag your feet across the room. You don't know why you asked. Why did you blurt all that out? You're so dumb. You should just have taken it for what it was and kept quiet.

[missy4176]

-A Rare Smile-

Kim dokja x reader

In the vast, unpredictable world of scenarios and uncertainties, there are very few things that can draw out a genuine smile from Kim Dokja. His existence has been one of solitude, marked by a deep understanding of narratives and the bleakness of reality. He knows the weight of every choice, the price of every action, and the transient nature of happiness in a world governed by stories. Yet, amidst all this, there is one exception—you.

Kim Dokja’s smiles are not frequent. They are as elusive as a gentle breeze in the midst of a storm. To most, his face remains a mask of neutrality, his eyes reflecting the depth of his contemplations and the burdens he carries. But for you, his significant other, you’ve come to recognize the subtle changes in his demeanor, the slight upward curve of his lips that speak volumes of the emotions he seldom reveal

Reader Perspective

In the beginning, you weren’t even sure if what you saw was real. Kim Dokja’s expression was often hard to read, and even when he did smile, it was fleeting—like a shadow passing through the light. But over time, as your relationship grew, you started to notice that these rare smiles weren’t so rare when you were around.

Every morning, before the sun fully rises, you wake up to find him already awake, sitting at the edge of the bed, his back turned to you. There’s a calmness in those early hours, a rare moment of peace before the chaos of the day begins. You often find him lost in thought, his eyes distant as if reading through countless scenarios that have yet to unfold. But when you softly call his name and he turns to face you, there’s a softness in his gaze, and for just a second, the corners of his lips lift ever so slightly. It’s a smile meant only for you, a silent greeting that speaks of a love unspoken, yet deeply felt.

Kim Dokja isn’t a man of many words, but you’ve learned to cherish the silences between you. Whether you’re reading side by side, your head resting on his shoulder, or simply walking together without a destination in mind, there’s a quiet comfort in these moments. It’s during these times that you catch him watching you from the corner of his eye. When you turn to meet his gaze, he quickly looks away, but not before you catch that faint smile tugging at his lips, a small, precious token of his affection.

There are times when he surprises you with small, unexpected gestures. Perhaps it’s a cup of tea he makes for you after a long day, or a blanket he drapes over your shoulders when he notices you shivering. These actions are always done quietly, almost as if he doesn’t want to draw attention to them. But you always notice, and when you thank him with a warm smile, he can’t help but return it. It’s in these simple moments that you see the walls around his heart begin to crack, revealing the tenderness he so carefully hides.

In the world of stories, where reality often blurs with fiction, Kim Dokja’s life has been a series of battles, both external and internal. But in the safety of your presence, he allows himself to be vulnerable. After a particularly difficult scenario, when the weight of his choices becomes too much to bear, he seeks solace in your arms. You hold him close, your fingers gently running through his hair, and as you whisper words of comfort, he buries his face in the crook of your neck. And when he finally pulls back, there it is—a smile. It’s faint, weary, but genuine, a silent expression of gratitude and love that only you are privy to.

To the rest of the world, Kim Dokja remains an enigma—a man who navigates through the labyrinth of narratives with an unfathomable understanding and an unwavering resolve. But to you, he is so much more. His smiles, rare and fleeting as they are, are a testament to the depth of his feelings for you. They are a reminder that, despite the countless scenarios and the uncertainty of the future, there is a part of him that is irrevocably yours.

In those precious moments when his smile graces his face, you are reminded that you are not just another character in the story of his life. You are his anchor, his source of light in a world that often seems too dark. And though he may not always say it, each smile tells you that you are the one who has managed to reach the heart of a man who has always kept the world at a distance.

Kim Dokja’s Perspective:

Kim Dokja is fully aware of how rare his smiles are. He’s spent so long surviving, strategizing, and keeping his emotions in check that the very idea of letting himself feel anything beyond necessity is foreign to him. But with you, it’s different. You make him feel things he thought he had buried long ago—things like warmth, safety, and, dare he admit it, happiness.

He knows that his smiles are fleeting, but he also knows that you notice every single one. It’s something that both scares and comforts him. Scares him because it means you see through his defenses, and comforts him because, in a world where everything can be taken away, you’ve become the one thing he can hold on to.

So when he smiles at you, it’s not just a reflex or a reaction. It’s a choice. A conscious decision to let you in, to show you a side of him that he doesn’t show anyone else. And in those moments, Kim Dokja allows himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, he deserves this small slice of happiness in a world full of uncertainties.

[inorganicone2230]

Like Hoarded Gold (Part 1) Yandere!Gojo/Geto x Fem!Reader

Part 2

Summary: Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo are complete strangers to you, but when they unexpectedly learn of the tragic news that has irrevocably shattered your life to pieces, the two of them become determined to help you and make you happy again, whether you want them to or not.

Warnings: Not many for this chapter, just the guys being nosy creeps for now.

Side Note: I do NOT and never will condone the actions committed in this or any future chapters, please be mindful and respectful of the fact that all of this is purely fiction.

“Come on, babe.”

Satoru Gojo moaned shamelessly into the kiss he shared with his lifelong friend and romantic partner, Suguru Geto, as he pressed the dark haired man down into the gym mat of the darkened storeroom they had snuck into.

“You're so fucking needy.” 

Suguru playfully taunted him, even as he groaned and pawed at the other young man just as desperately, his hands finally finding purchase on Satoru’s hips so he could grind their still clothed and aching erections together.

They’d had a break between lectures and when Satoru had teasingly suggested that the two of them find a quiet spot for a quicky, he had been more than happy to agree, which was how they now found themselves in their current situation; namely, the two of them laid out on an old mat in the storeroom of the college gym, desperately dry-humping one another.

“You're not gonna sound so cocky once I’m balls-deep in your tight fucking ass.” Satoru shot back, nipping his neck hard enough that it was surely going to leave a very noticeable bruise, one he knew Suguru would wear with immense pride and satisfaction.

Suguru’s chuckle was deep and sensual as he reached between them to begin unbuckling his boyfriend's belt and pants, desperate to get his large hands wrapped around Satoru’s fat cock.

“Wanna bet on-”

The door to the storeroom suddenly creaked open and both men instantly froze as dim light from the previously empty gym briefly flooded the space before closing and going dark again.

“Shit!” Satoru whispered harshly into his ear, just loud enough so only he would hear it. “Did a professor or someone else follow us?”

It's not like the two of them had ever tried to hide their relationship from the public, such a thing would have been an impossible endeavor anyway, what with how affectionate and touchy Satoru could be most of the time. But even with their relationship being public knowledge, it still hadn't stopped the occasional creeper or fame-chaser from trying to catch them in compromising situations, usually to try and extort the white haired young man for a cut of his rather impressively large fortune and inheritance.

With the unexpected death of his parents only four years prior, and Satoru being their only child, he had been the sole beneficiary to the Gojo family's vast wealth and assets, and while he still had to graduate college first before he could receive the entirety of his inheritance in full, the monthly stipend he received every month to fund their lifestyle until then was certainly nothing to sneeze at.

But it also had the unfortunate drawback of painting a big red bullseye on his back, and subsequently Suguru’s as well, one that led some people to think that they would be an easy target for some quick cash if a compromising photo could be taken and dangled over their heads.

“Just stay quiet for now.” Suguru replied, then tenderly kissed Satoru's cheek with the kind of affection he knew would leave the Gojo heir blushing. “If they try anything, I'll be the one to handle it.”

And he meant it to, he had already beat the shit out of a few creeps for trying this kind of shit, and would be more than willing to do so again if it came down to it.

Satoru was his, and he would always have his back, just like he knew Satoru would always have his.

The two of them, thankfully, were tucked away in a corner of the storeroom behind some stacked boxes of equipment, so they would see anyone that came around the corner, but when no one came, the two of them slowly rose to their feet to take a peek around, wondering if maybe the individual actually hadn't stuck around and left when the door shut.

But there, leaning against the wall next to the door was a young girl, one who both men briefly recognized as a first year, more specifically, she was a foreign exchange student who they just so happened to share one or two classes with this semester.

You had your phone drawn up to your ear and seemed to be calling the same number repeatedly as your expression grew more and more frantic every time the person(s) on the other end failed to pick up.

“The fuck?” Satoru silently mouthed as they looked at one another, confusion written all over each other's faces, but Suguru was just as lost as his partner and only shook his head at him.

He now suspected that you had no idea you weren't alone in here, which meant that you weren't a threat, so his posture had relaxed once more, but now he was also fairly curious as to what had brought you here, and who you were so desperately trying to get ahold of.

And based on the noticeable gleam in Satoru's bright blue eyes, Suguru knew he was also just as curious.

And then, as if their nosiness had triggered something on the other end of your phone, they suddenly heard your voice speak, your tone sounding both relieved and panicked as words, in what they were able to tell was English, began tumbling out of your mouth in fast succession.

The only problem however, was that neither of them knew enough of the language to be able to piece full sentences together.

“Oh come on!” Satoru quietly groaned in exasperation.

He knew enough to be able to pick out a few words here and there; words like ‘no’ and ‘please’ and ‘wait’, which you seemed to be repeating quite often as your voice grew more and more panicked, but eventually, whoever was on the other end must have abruptly ended the call, because you stopped talking as the phone slowly slid from your slackened grip and fell to the floor with a loud enough crash that he knew without even seeing it that the damn things screen was likely shattered to bits from the impact with the concrete flooring.

You looked so sad and heartbroken in that moment, and before either man knew what was happening, you dropped to your knees with a sickening thud that left both of them wincing. Your knees were most definitely going to be in a world of hurt once you finally managed to pull yourself out of whatever dark hole that conversation had thrown you into.

And then came the wailing…

The sounds that came pouring out of you were absolutely gut wrenching, and despite not knowing anything about you, not even your name, it took everything Satoru and Suguru had to stop themselves from going to you and demanding what it was that had caused this.

You had your arms wrapped so tightly around yourself, like you would fall to pieces if you weren't holding yourself together in that lonely embrace, and you were sobbing so hard that they both feared you might actually make yourself sick if you didn't get your breathing under control.

“What do you think we should do?” Suguru whispered.

Satoru didn't once take his eyes off you as he shook his head in uncertainty.

“I honestly don't know.” He answered. “We would probably just make things worse if we suddenly pop out and she learns we've been here this whole time.”

Suguru had to agree, and as much as it killed him to stand back and let your trauma unfold like this, he knew that Satoru was right.

Neither of them completely understood why they had this unexplainable urge to go to you, someone who was a complete and total stranger, but it was a matter they were going to have to ponder together and discuss at great length before making any solid decisions on.

But for now, they simply had to let the situation run its natural course and hope for the best, even if waiting and patience was never either of their strong suits.

And so they did.

They waited for almost thirty minutes, watching and listening to the sound of your very soul shattering as you cried yourself into exhaustion before you eventually managed to pick yourself back up off the floor and slowly and silently exit the storage space. Neither of them failed to notice the dead expression on your face or how utterly lifeless your eyes appeared to be, and both men knew it had little to do with the poor lighting from the few small windows sprinkled along the walls near the ceiling.

And only once they were certain they were alone again did both Satoru and Suguru finally release the breath neither of them realized they were simultaneously holding.

“Fucking hell…” Satoru groaned and slumped down to the floor to sit on his haunches. “What was that all about?” He asked, looking up at Suguru through feather soft lashes.

Suguru leaned back against the wall across from him and let out his own sigh of frustration.

He didn't understand what this feeling was or where it was coming from, but it was taking all his restraint not to go chasing after you, to make certain you didn't do anything foolish.

Perhaps it had something to do with seeing you in such a vulnerable state when you thought you were completely alone…

He had seen plenty of his friends in bad moods or had been a shoulder for them to cry on when they were stressed and upset, but he had never seen anyone in real life break apart so uncontrollably the way you had just now; not even Satoru after the death of his parents, if one could even call those two absent shit-stains by the title of parent.

“I don't know.” He whispered. “Maybe she has a significant other back home and they got into a fight or something?”

He saw the darkened look that flashed across Satoru's face and knew immediately that the thought of that prospect didn't settle with him any better than it did with Suguru himself.

“Or someone she knows could have gotten hurt, or even died.” Satoru casually stated, and wondered what it must have said about him that he hoped it was that and not Suguru's option.

This was not what either of them had expected to deal with today, not that anyone could have predicted it, but now that they had witnessed what you obviously must have thought was a moment of extreme vulnerability, their interest was thoroughly piqued and he knew that neither he nor Suguru would be able to walk away and just forget about it so easily.

At the very least, he wanted to know the details of the situation, even if they couldn't do anything about it to help you in the end, because if he didn't, then those mournful cries of yours would follow him for a long time, possibly forever, and he wasn't entirely sure he could stay sane if the burning question of it wasn't answered.

“Come on, let's go home for the rest of the day and figure out what we want to do.” Suguru said, and held his hand out to help his boyfriend rise to his feet. “There's no point in attending any more of our classes today if neither of us will be able to properly concentrate.”

It wasn't until they were almost to the door that something caught Satoru's attention and he had to pause for a moment to thank the heavens for his good fortune, because there was your shattered phone, still laying on the ground where it had originally dropped.

“It must be our lucky day, babe.” He said with a grin, bending down to pick up the device.

“I'm not too surprised, the poor thing was practically catatonic when she left, and a broken phone was probably the last thing on her mind.” Suguru wrapped his arms around Satoru's middle and rested his chin in the crook of his neck to look over his shoulder and watch him gingerly tap at the screen. “Maybe we could use returning it as an excuse to talk to her?” He suggested, but dismissed the idea just as quickly when he realized that would mean needing to explain how they found it and how they knew it was yours.

Satoru nodded his head absentmindedly, already knowing that he and Suguru had likely reached the same conclusion on that option, but he had one that might prove to be a bit more useful to them in the long run, especially as the lock screen lit up and showed both men that it was only the protective cover over the screen that was shattered. The sturdy case and screen protector had spared it from any true damage, and as he stared at the picture you had set of you and what appeared to be your parents at your high school graduation ceremony, he couldn't help but feel that fate was too good a word to describe this opportunity, and it had to mean something so much more.

“Let's stop by a cell-phone store on the way home.” He suggested, before pocketing the device and turning to give his boyfriend a conspiratorial wink and smile. “I have an idea of my own that I think you'll like a whole lot more.”

----------

Later on that night, Satoru and Suguru found themselves snuggled up together on the couch that faced the large wall of windows in their penthouse apartment that overlooked the Tokyo city skyline.

When the two of them had first graduated high school together nearly four years earlier and started apartment hunting together, they had immediately been sold on this particular property, located in Minato, based solely on the views it provided of the city at night, and naturally, with Satoru being who he was, they ended up with the absolute best the building had to offer, right at the very top on the 45th floor.

It had already come fully furnished at the time they had first moved in, but over the course of their almost four year residency, they had slowly replaced everything with pieces that were more suited to their own tastes and preferences.

That was one thing that he loved so much about Satoru, despite the apartment being in his name and the money from his monthly stipends paying for everything they had, his boyfriend never made him feel less than for not being able to contribute more than his ability to cook and help clean. Satoru always told him that the money was just as much his, and had even gone so far as to get Suguru's name put on the account and debit/credit cards of his very own so he never had to ask for money.

Satoru, for all his childish tendencies and spoiled entitlement, saw the two of them as equal partners in their relationship, and did everything he possibly could to show him that at every opportunity.

But the greatest gift of all, besides just being in his life, had been in the form of his college expenses.

Satoru had always been destined to attend his parents alma mater, the University of Tokyo, but for Suguru, with his poorer background and lack of financial resources, despite his excellent grades and a long list of extracurriculars that had earned him a full scholarship to the elite high school they had both attended, the prestigious university had always felt more like a far off and unattainable dream as he'd sent in his application for it, and half a dozen other more affordable and realistic schools.

Schools that were far enough away that it would have seen him and Satoru separated and likely to break up.

So when, mere days after his parents' funeral, Satoru had expressed a keen desire to pay for his tuition entirely from his own pocket, just to help him achieve his dreams and keep them from being separated, Suguru had known then and there that the white haired young man was the one for him.

It wasn't about the money though, Suguru had never given a single thought to asking his, admittedly very wealthy boyfriend, for financial assistance. It was Satoru's genuine desire to help him and not lose each other that had cemented it in his mind that they were it for one another; that, come hell or high water, he would fight tooth and nail to keep what they had, and Satoru had been more that eager to share the sentiment.

And now, here they were, making what might be one of the biggest decisions of their life together as they scrolled through your now deactivated phone, and seething with rage at what they were learning.

“You're reading the same thing as me, right? I’m not misinterpreting this?” Satoru asked through clenched teeth.

Suguru's mood wasn't much better as he took the phone from his boyfriend's tightening grip to read the translated email more closely.

“No, you're not.”

After leaving campus for the day, the first thing they had done was drive to a small electronics store on the outskirts of the city to have your phone deactivated. And thankfully, with the help of a very hefty bribe, the creep working the shady storefront had been more than happy to ignore the questionable ethics of forcefully disconnecting and resetting the password on a phone that clearly didn't belong to either of the men asking for it to be done, and in less than thirty minutes, the two had been on their merry way back home.

It had been Suguru's idea to run everything on your phone through a translator app so they could try and figure out what was going on with you, and while they both felt a mild sense of guilt over snooping so deeply into your private life, they told themselves it was for your own good, that they were only trying to help.

The translations were by no means perfect, but both men were smart enough to read between the lines and mentally fix whatever errors there were in the process, and while your text messages had been a bust, with most of them being fairly quick and concise, your emails proved to be much more fruitful.

And rage inducing…

Satoru had been right in assuming that whatever had brought on your traumatic breakdown had to do with your family, but if what they were reading had any kind of truth to it, which neither of them were truly doubting, then it was so much worse than just someone you knew and loved dying on you.

The email in question was from your mother and read as followed;

(Y/N), I know this will come as a tremendous shock to you whenever you read this, and I need you to understand that me and your father are not making this decision to be cruel to you, but you are no longer a child, you are a grown woman on her own at college, in another country no less, and I feel like I should be allowed to be honest with you about the changes both our lives are about to take.

I think you are well aware by now that having you was not a choice neither I nor your father made willingly, you were a genuine accident, and while we care about you and want you to succeed more than anything, you are grown now and fully capable of no longer needing us. Me and your father put our dreams and desires on hold and raised you for nineteen years, and now it is time for us to be allowed to live our lives how we see fit. We have already sold the house and all but its most important items, all of your belongings have been packed up and moved to a storage unit that I have provided the number for down below. It has been paid off for the next six months while you decide how and what to do with it, but this is the final assistance we will give you, as we need all the money we can spare to begin our new lives elsewhere.

I know this is going to be very hard for you to understand, but your father and I were free spirits before we had you, travel and adventure was our life, and while we did our due diligence upon having you, I won't lie and say that you were our greatest joy. Having to be tied down to one place for so long in order to give you the stability you required, it killed us a little inside with each year that passed, and now that we are finally free, we feel it is best we no longer keep in contact with you going forward. It will only serve to remind us of a time we no longer want to think about, and it will only give you false hope in the end that things could go back to your perceived version of normal, and that is not fair to any of us.

We will be replacing our phones and numbers at the end of the week, so feel free to call us anytime between now and then if you have anything to say or add.

And please, take care of yourself and live your life to the fullest.

That was where the email ended.

It had been sent less than 24 hours ago, and a quick check of your call log showed them that your parents were indeed the last people you had tried calling, your mother having been the one to finally pick up and respond to your, now understandably, very frantic calls earlier in the storage room.

“What kind of sorry excuse for a mother would do this to their own child?” Satoru asked, his voice as cold and icy as his eyes and hair. “My parents were shit at being parents, and even they would have never done something as cruel and heartless as this.”

Suguru nodded in complete agreement as he reread the words on the screen again for a third time, and had to fight down every urge he had to punch this awful woman's number into his own phone and give her a piece of his mind.

“The only kind of people who could do this with as little remorse as she seems to have, are the kind that should have never been allowed to conceive in the first place.” The dark haired man responded, and draped an arm over his loves shoulders for comfort.

The two sat in silence for a long while after that, slowly processing everything they had learned, and in that time, Satoru had opened up your photo gallery for them to look through, idly scrolling through picture after picture, wanting to understand you further and gain insight into who you were. They started from the oldest ones at the very top, which seemed to date back three years, and while you seemed more interested in taking pictures of other people and the things and places around you, when a photo of yourself did eventually pop up every now and then, it always blindsided then how joyful and happy you seemed, especially in contrast with how they had seen you earlier, so sad and broken.

“So, what do we do now, Suguru?”

Suguru sighed, having known they would eventually have to discuss this.

“I know we were mostly just curious to find out what was the cause of her breakdown earlier, but now that we know the whole story, I don't think I can just leave this situation alone.” He said, and felt Satoru relax beside him, that was enough to tell him that his partner felt the same as him.

“Normally, I'd say that destiny and fate can suck my fat cock, but I don't feel like it was just mere coincidence that led to us being in that storage room with her today, it was definitely something more.” Satoru said, his confidence returning in full force as he stared down at a picture of your bright and smiling face, wishing more than anything that they could see it in person. “So who better to help a poor damsel in distress than the two best equipped guys in the city; we have the money, the means, and the time to show her were on her side.”

“I couldn't have said it better myself.” Suguru chuckled and kissed his cheek. “Now the only question is how do we proceed and make it happen?”

Satoru flashed him that signature too confident grin as he leaned back into his arms and pulled out his own phone.

“Don't worry, I got us covered on that front.” He said, scrolling through his minimal contacts to find the one he needed. “She might not figure it out right away, but our girl isn't going to know what to do with herself once she realizes she's got two knights in shining armor looking out for her.”

I've recently gotten really into JJK and since I'm not really feeling the motivation to write for any of my other fics at the moment, here is the newest idea that is rotting my brain from the inside out.

Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

And as always, I want to give a BIG thank you to my amazing friend @talpup  for all the brainstorming and encouragement on these stories! I’m sure I would have given up on this blog a while ago if it wasn’t for all of their help. I highly encourage anyone who takes the time to read this to go over to their page or their AO3 account under the same name and check out their works, especially Chaos and Erase The Shadow. They are two of my favorite BNHA fics of ALL TIME! And who has also started their own Yandere!Overhaul fic called Crossroads and is set in a 1920′s prohibition style era, it’s amazing and you need to check it out!

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Some Law-Related Vocabulary

for your poem/story (pt. 3/4)

After-born - born after a certain event (as a father's death or the execution of a will)

Aliunde - from another source

Alluvion - material (as clay, silt, sand, or gravel) deposited by running water

Bona fide - characterized by good faith and lack of fraud or deceit; being real or genuine, sincere

Brain death - the final stopping of activity in the central nervous system especially as indicated by a flat electroencephalogram for a usually statutorily predetermined period of time

Cas fortuit - fortuitous event (i.e., an event of natural or human origin that could not have been reasonably foreseen or expected and is out of the control of the persons concerned)

Choice of evils defense - a defense to a criminal charge based on the assertion that the criminal act was committed to avoid the commission of an even greater evil

Civil fruit - the revenue derived from property especially by virtue of an obligation (as a lease)

Death with dignity law - a law legalizing the self-administration by a terminally ill person of life-ending medication prescribed by a physician; also called "right-to-die law"

Defalcation - failure to account for or pay over money that has been entrusted to one's care; a failure to meet a promise or an expectation

Embracery - an attempt to influence a jury corruptly

Evidentiary harpoon - evidence consisting especially of a police officer's statement that is improper and is knowingly offered by the prosecution to prejudice the defendant in the eyes of the jury

Ex aequo et bono - according to what is equitable and good

Excited utterance - a statement that concerns a startling event (as a physical assault) and that is made by a person while under stress caused by the event

Featherbedding - the unfair labor practice of causing an employer to pay for services which are not performed (as by requiring more workers than necessary)

Feticide - the act of causing the death of a fetus

Fishing expedition - an investigation that does not stick to a stated objective but hopes to uncover incriminating or newsworthy evidence

Flagrante delicto - in the very act of committing a misdeed; also: in the midst of sexual activity

Flat rule - a generalized rule applied without consideration for specific circumstances; called also "per se rule"

Gift inter vivos - a gift made during the lifetime of the donor and delivered with the intent of surrendering immediately and irrevocably dominion and control over the property

Hedonic damages - damages deemed to compensate for the loss of enjoyment of life resulting from a wrongful act

Inadvertent discovery - unexpected finding of incriminating evidence in plain view by the police

Mental cruelty - conduct by one spouse that renders the other's life miserable and unendurable and that is a ground for divorce

Mens rea - a culpable mental state

Noscitur a sociis - a doctrine or rule of construction: the meaning of an unclear or ambiguous word (as in a statute or contract) should be determined by considering the words with which it is associated in the context

Pecuniary - consisting of, measured in, or relating to money

Peonage - labor in a condition of servitude to extinguish a debt

Perils of the sea - perils that are peculiar to the sea but are of such an extraordinary nature and power that one cannot guard against them using ordinary skill and prudence

Quashal - an act of quashing something

Riparian - of or relating to or living or located on the bank of a watercourse (as a river or stream) or sometimes a lake

Scintilla - a small trace or barely perceptible amount of something (as evidence supporting a position)

Silent witness theory - a theory or rule in the law of evidence; photographic evidence (as photographs or videotapes) produced by a process whose reliability is established may be admitted as substantive evidence of what it depicts without the need for an eyewitness to verify the accuracy of its depiction

Vulture fund - an investment company that buys up bankrupt or insolvent companies with the goal of reorganizing them so they can be profitably resold as going concerns

Wrongful conception - a malpractice claim brought by the parents of a healthy but unwanted child usually against a physician or health-care provider for alleged negligence in performing a sterilization or abortion procedure and sometimes against a pharmacist or pharmaceutical manufacturer of contraceptives; also called "wrongful pregnancy"

Youthful offender - a young person (as one within a statutorily specified age range) who commits a crime but is granted special status entitling him or her to a more lenient punishment (as one involving probation or confinement in a special youth correctional facility) than would otherwise be available

If any of these words make their way into your next poem/story, please tag me, or leave a link in the replies. I would love to read them!

More: Law-Related Words ⚜ Word Lists