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amethystwrytes · 5 months ago

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Safe. (Part Four)

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Fem. Reader x Lee Minho

Summary: A broke ER Nurse offers up her services to a large crime organization in exchange for much higher pay and benefits that are unconventional, but lucrative. The life proves to be questionable at best, and downright isolating at worst which leaves her feeling unsure, unstable and dangerous.

Warnings: Explicit language. Explicit depictions of sex (some chapters will be more explicit than others sexually). Violence. Blood. Trauma injuries. (Organized) Crime. Emotional manipulation. Discussion of murder and physical assault. Medical inaccuracy galore. Smoking. Past addiction. 18+ Only.

Chapter WC: 5k

Read Parts One, Two and Three Here

- PART FOUR -

Christopher helps you through the unfamiliar door. Immediately Minho and Hyunjin spring up from the sitting area and rush you.

“Are you alright?”

“What did they say?”

“I’m fine,” you sigh, “I’ve got a few cracked ribs, that’s the worst of it.”

“We have your bedroom ready, Felix and the others brought all your things,” Minho rubs your arm. You just nod.

“Come, I’ll help you upstairs,” Hyunjin wraps his arm around your shoulder and leads you like an injured puppy.

The new bedroom is cozy, inviting. If you had walked into the house for a tour you’d know two things for sure: One, you’d never afford this in a thousand years, and two, it really is beautiful. Anyones dreamhouse. You look out onto the backyard from the window and see there’s even a pool, it’s covered and closed in preparation for the coming cooler months, but it’s there. You love to swim, and you picture yourself lounging in the chaises like a cat in the sun, then cooling off in clear blue water. Then you remember that you probably wouldn’t make it till Spring, and even if you did you’d probably have to change houses before the warm weather comes.

“What will happen to the other house?” you wonder out loud, wonder what fate will become of the house you got so used to, “Burn it to the ground?” you joke dryly, unsmiling.

“No,” Hyunjin answers softly, “We’ll repair the windows and clean it up, then stick a for sale sign in the front yard.”

“Good, it’s a good house. It deserves a family that lives inside, happy, with pets or kids or something,” you say sadly.

“___,” he says your name with despair, and you turn to look at him, he looks like a man with a thousand things to say, and you briefly remember him catching you with Minho earlier, at the Casino. You can’t find it within you to care about that right now though. Finally, he lets out a resigned breath and shakes his head, “Let’s run a bath for you.”

He disappears into the adjoining bathroom and you hear the water start to run. Shimmying out of your clothes leaves you feeling sore and feeble. You find a bathrobe amongst your things and shrug it on.

You say nothing as you stand in front of the bath, Hyunjin beside you, stoic and unmoving. You don’t care anymore, so you remove the robe and step into the hot water, carefully submerging yourself. Hyunjin appears at the side of the tub, kneels down and dips a cloth into the water then rings it out over your skin. You stare at the faucet, studying each drop that drips from the opening making ripples on the water as Hyunjin washes you. He carefully wipes the blood away, then gently turns your face toward him so he can clean the dried blood around your lips.

Suddenly the door opens and Minho steps inside, you can see him falter in his stride, briefly pausing to examine the scene before him. Hyunjin only turns his head slightly, not even enough to look at Minho, then goes back to washing and rinsing.

“Do you have everything you need darling?” Minho asks, you guess he’s decided not to ask about why Hyunjin is washing your naked body. Given the circumstances he might not care, or maybe he does and you’ll both pay for this at a later date.

“Yes,” is all you say.

Minho comes and sits on the edge of the tub, he looks between you and Hyunjin for a few seconds, “I’m sorry that this happened, I’m just…so, so sorry.”

“It’s done,” you say, leaning back against the tub wall.

“It’s far from done,” Minho says darkly, “In fact I’m about to head out to make this right. I will make this right.”

You don’t say anything. Minho shoots one last quizzical look at Hyunjin before standing up and heading towards the door.

“I’m staying here, with her,” Hyunjin pipes up. Minho stops and looks down at Hyunjin. He looks like he’s about to say something, a look of irritation darkens his eyes for only a few seconds before he inhales sharply, then exhales.

“Very well,” he stuffs his hand in his pocket and marches out without another word.

Hyunjin continues bathing you in silence, but when the silence becomes too loud you reach in front of you and pull the drain stopper, then drag yourself up. He hands you a towel and you dry off then slide back into the same bathrobe. You quietly walk back into the bedroom, turn the covers down and get in.

Hyunjin follows and watches you for several moments before he removes his shirt and dress pants, he slides into bed next to you. You look at him briefly, eyes brimming with new tears, and he pulls you in close to him, engulfing you in the safety of his body.

“I’ve got you, I’m not going anywhere until you order me away,” he whispers.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

“Why on Earth would you be sorry?” he half laughs, gently smoothing your hair down.

“At the Casino earlier, when you walked in…”

“I don’t care,” he takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly, “I don’t care if you’re with him, if you want him. I should care, but I don’t. I was angry at first, jealous, but then the call came in that something had happened to you and I,” his voice cracks and he rights himself, “and I realized that I don’t care what you are to him, what you do with him - I care about you. Deeply. It’s borderline pathetic,” he chokes on a laugh, “but I care about you so much ___. When we walked in and you were laying there and I thought you were dead, something inside me broke.”

“Why do you like me so much?” you sniff, “I’m trying to understand, but I just don’t get it. I’ve done nothing to deserve any kind of affection from you.”

He chuckles a bit, “I don’t know. At first it was pretty basic - I just thought you were hot,” he nudges you playfully and you smile a bit, “Then weeks passed, I kept bringing in my friends beat to hell and back and no matter what we told you, you treated us well, you didn’t look at us like we were monsters, that pulled some kind of heartstring of mine.”

“So just because I’m nice to you?” you ask, “What kind of people are you meeting anyway?”

He laughs, “None that are nice, I’ll tell you that. I don’t know, when we kissed the other night, I thought, this is it, if I kiss her and it’s nothing more than a hot little makeout session then I’ll know I just have a crush, that I’m attracted to the pretty nurse who takes care of us and has kindness in her heart, that’s not a huge reach after all. Then we kissed, and all I could think about was running off with you so I could kiss you anytime I want, I’ve been daydreaming about this pretend life where you work in some hospital somewhere and I have a normal fucking career that doesn’t end with me dead or in prison. Now the only way I can fall asleep at night is imagining that.”

You nestle your head deeper into his shoulder, “How the Hell did you get here Hyunjin? How did someone as sweet and good get here?”

“Remember when you were patching me up, and I wouldn’t take the pills because I used to have a problem?”

“I do, yeah.”

“It was a little more than just a problem, I was strung out of my mind most days, and the days I wasn’t I was strung out in withdrawal, desperately looking for someone who had anything I could take. I had no money, I had no friends - unless you count my plugs - I lost my apartment, all my stuff. I would pretend to be passed out on drug dealers couches just to have somewhere to sleep, but I was living on the streets, doing anything anyone wanted so I could buy pills.”

“Jesus,” you say softly, squeezing him a little tighter.

“One night Changbin came across me, he mistook me for someone Minho was looking for and tried to drag me into the car, but all I could think about was the pills I’d stashed and how I wouldn’t get them now and I just lost it on him. We beat the shit out of each other. I think he realized I wasn’t the guy, but he tossed me in the car anyway and brought me to Lee. Told him I was a hell of a fighter, but a junkie. Lee basically put me in solitary confinement, for weeks, months really. I went through Hell, in different stages of detox, altered states of consciousness. I dropped so much weight I looked like I was dying…but I got through it. Minho saved me; he gave me a job, an apartment, I owe him and Bin everything,” he explains.

“Hyunjin,” you prop yourself up above him so you can really look, “I’m not saying that what Minho did wasn’t good for you, it was, but the second you got better, the second he let you out of whatever hole you were detoxing in, you could’ve gone straight back. That choice was yours. All you. The other night when I offered you pain meds you could’ve taken them, I mean anytime you walked into that house you could’ve gone straight to my medicine closet, you chose not to, over and over you chose.”

You cup his face with the palm of your hand, “I’m glad you found people who pushed you, but don’t let yourself think that every single day it isn’t you who’s choosing to stay sober, you owe yourself just as much admiration and gratitude.”

“See right there,” he puts his hand over yours and lays you back down gently on the pillows, “That’s what I love about you, that’s why your face is the only thing I can think about at night.”

His lips brush against yours softly, and you hold his chin with your fingertips while your mouths move together. He pulls away and rubs his nose against yours, eyes screwed shut.

“You need to rest,” he whispers, “You’ve been through Hell tonight, go to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

For two days all you do is sleep, and everytime you do, you dream about the three men who broke into the house and nearly beat you to death. Sometimes they still wear their masks, other times their faces are just Kim Taehyung, his menacing voice saying “I’ll be seeing you” over and over. Then, a few times, their faces are Minho, Hyunjin, Seungmin or one of the other men you’ve come to know and care about. Each time you wake up, totally sure that you’ve been thrashing and screaming, but according to Hyunjin you’re as still as the dead when you’re out.

You’re on the couch asleep one evening when you hear the door open, your eyes immediately go wide, but you remain still on the couch, heart pounding despite knowing Hyunjin sits only a few feet away.

“How is she?” Minhos voice is quiet, a whisper, and you realize he thinks you’re asleep, so you close your eyes and pretend. You don’t want to talk to him, you aren’t ready to tell him about your plan to leave when you can move without pain.

“She’s been sleeping a lot, like, a lot but I make her eat and drink when she’s awake,” Hyunjin answers. “I’m scared she’s going to carry this with her forever.”

Me too, you can’t help but think.

“She’s strong,” Minho says, “I don’t think she knows it, but I can see it in her.”

It goes quiet for a moment, but then Minho clears his throat, “I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

Your heart starts pounding again. This is it, you think. He’s going to confront Hyunjin about the nature of your - relationship? Not that you could call it one. You couldn’t even call what you have with Minho a relationship.

“I have feelings for her, yes,” Hyunjin answers without giving him the opportunity to ask the question. Your very breath catches in your throat and you wait for the blow, unsure whether it will be verbal or physical. You wait for what feels like an eternity.

“I see,” is all Minho says. “And does she have feelings for you?”

“I don’t know,” Hyunjin answers, “I think she has feelings for you though.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Minho chuckles to himself. “I’m not a good man. I’m a monster.”

You silently wonder if Hyunjins face is as shocked as you feel, Minho opening up about anything seems like such an impossibility, yet you heard him clearly.

“I used to be in control of it though, sort of, it was this weird self-awareness switch I could flip on and off when I needed to. I always had the ability to be ruthless, heartless, unfeeling - but I could be different when the day was done. Then, when Seola was killed,” he sighs and takes a second or two, “when I lost her, I also lost the ability to turn that switch on and off. Suddenly I didn’t care. I didn’t care what happened to me, what happened to you guys, what happened to our enemies. I just wanted everyone as miserable as me, to suffer like me. The more time that passed the less ability I had to control that switch, and I didn’t give a fuck.”

“Do you give a fuck now?” Hyunjin asks, and you can feel them staring at you.

“The night I met __ was the first time in three years that I felt anything. This woman who found me bleeding in the hospital parking lot, who should’ve gone back in and told security but instead she laid her job on the line to save me. It was the first time in years that I thought, I genuinely hope nothing bad ever happens to this person,” he laughs dryly, “and then look at what I did to her. I snatched her away from a perfectly respectable career, I’ve threatened her, made her scared of me, and now I’ve nearly gotten her beaten to death.”

“Do you love her?” Hyunjin asks him, and you stop breathing altogether.

“I don’t want to love her,” Minho answers, “The more time I spend with her, the harder I fight to not love her. This all started because I think she and I both desperately needed some company, and now I’m ready to spill the blood of every person I come across because of what happened to her.”

“So what do we do?” Hyunjin asks.

“About what?”

“What do we do about how we feel for her?” Hyunjin clarifies.

Minho is quiet for a bit, then lets out a breath, “We let her decide I suppose. In the meantime, I plan on working on that blood-spilling thing. When she wakes up, call me.”

“Okay,” Hyunjin answers.

“You’re the best I’ve got Hyunjin,” you hear Minho pause at the door, “and I don’t want to lose either of you over this, but I don’t know how I feel about sharing, it’s not in my nature.”

“Me either, sir,” Hyunjin says resolutely.

Minho chuckles, “Good to know.” Then he’s gone.

You listen as Hyunjin retreats to the kitchen area, then you hear the sound of the sliding glass door that leads out to the back patio and you’re alone.

You sit up and stretch a little, replaying their conversation over and over in your mind. You feel bad that Hyunjin isn’t aware you have feelings for him, and you feel bad because maybe Minho deserves more than the way you’ve hated him recently.

We let her decide…

You audibly scoff at this. Decide? As if you’re choosing who to go to prom with. As if you’re in a little love triangle from a romantic comedy and by the end everything will be right as rain, with no one hurt or upset. Please.

The truth is you have feelings for both of these men, Minho your dark, dangerous unpredictable disaster; Hyunjin your kind, caring artist who is so misplaced in this world of crime that it would be funny if it weren’t so deadly.

The other truth is that it doesn’t matter. You won’t be around long enough to need to decide anything. Even if you allow yourself to think about staying, you don’t like the idea of choosing. As selfish as it makes you feel, you would choose them both, every time. You try to ignore the way it makes your heart ache to think about leaving them behind.

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

“Hello gorgeous.”

You look up from your reading chair and see Chris stepping into your bedroom, yellow roses and daisies in a bouquet under his arm.

“Christopher?”

“Just thought I’d come by to say Hello, and to see how you were feeling, and you know, to see how your getaway plan is going?”

“Where’s Hyunjin,” you look over him, as if Hyunjin is right behind.

“He went to meet Lee for something, I’m supposed to get you dressed and take you to meet them,” he says.

You raise an eyebrow, “Just here to say Hello and check on me, huh?”

“Hey, nobody made me stop and get these flowers, I care, okay?” he defends himself and you laugh.

“Why do I have to go meet them?” you wonder, deciding to avoid getaway plans or explanations. At this point you feel well enough to pack, well enough to drive, yet you’re sitting here reading the same romance novel you read to Hyunjin that night a few weeks ago.

Chris shoots you a look, “I’m a chauffeur at best, you think I know anything?”

“You’re not just a chauffeur, you also have a knack for picking out dresses,” you tease.

“Ah, smooth transition into our options for this afternoon,” he walks over to your closet and starts selecting things - he emerges with a pair of jeans tossed over his shoulder, “I’m just delivering you to the Casino office, so no evening wear this time,” he teases.

“Thank God.”

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

Walking into the Casino at nine in the morning is very different than walking in at nine at night. Totally different crowd, brighter lights. You pause at the Blackjack table and stare down at it, run your fingers over the black velvet lining.

I’ll be seeing you.

Kim Taehyungs voice echoes, menacing in your brain, and suddenly your stomach is in knots.

“Are you joining?” the dealer calls to you.

You look at her and shake your head back and forth, walking away towards Christopher who is waiting for you.

Christopher leads you back into the area behind the Casino walls, where the very air is different. Darker. Something doesn’t feel right, but you pass it off as being behind the scenes, seeing the things that the general public isn’t supposed to see. When you reach a service elevator he stops, and presses a button, the doors immediately opening.

“This is as far as I go,” he says cautiously.

“Why?” you look at him.

He shrugs, “I do what I’m told.”

You look at the elevator and then back at him, the worry in your eyes must be visible.

“Press B when you get in, and keep your chin up, I know what goes on down there and the tougher you look the safer you’ll be,” he says.

“If that’s supposed to be encouraging then I’m sorry but you suck at it,” you force a laugh, but really you’re just procrastinating.

He chuckles, “I happen to know that both Minho and Hyunjin are down there, so I doubt highly anything bad is going to happen to you, but it never hurts to look like you can beat the shit out of anyone who looks at you wrong.”

“Right,” you sigh and step into the elevator.

When it opens Hyunjin is standing there waiting, you immediately relax.

“How are you?” he asks.

“Fine,” you feel so awkward around him now. He nor Minho are aware you overheard their conversation from yesterday.

He leans in and kisses you softly and there goes the awkwardness. Your body is still sore, and likely will be for weeks, but you lift your arms despite the pain and wrap them around his neck, holding yourself close to him, letting his warmth engulf you.

He pulls away, his eyes holding something back. He looks as though he’s about to tell you he ran over your cat, if you had one that is.

“What?”

“Remember the night I told you that you were the good in all this?”

“Yes…”

“Well I’m about to drag you into the bad,” he says apologetically.

“What are you talk-,”

“Darling,” Minhos voice descends upon you and you watch as he smiles, his hand extending out towards you, his demeanor the complete opposite of Hyunjin, “Come.”

You look at Hyunjin quizzically once more then take Minhos hand in yours. The confusion you feel, not just at trying to guess what the Hell is about to happen, but also at the way you seem to be just as relieved to see Minho as you do Hyunjin has your head spinning. You should’ve taken something for the inevitable headache that’s coming on fast.

“How do you feel today?” he asks.

“Sore,” you answer honestly, “but it’s getting a little better each day. I’m okay.”

“Good, I’ve been so worried about you, but I’ve tried to keep my distance, give you space,” he leans in and kisses your temple. The pressure of the kiss temporarily relieves the ache in your head and you lean into it, into him.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispers and you wonder how he’s so good at it. So good at the sweet, the soft, the delicate when you know what he’s capable of.

“What am I doing here?” you look up at him.

“I need you to see something,” he smiles and opens a heavy door.

You follow him into a large room and at first you don’t see him, your eyes adjusting to the darker area, trying to identify all the odds and ends you see. Then it hits you, that the giant glass window separating this room from another is actually a reciprocal mirror, and on the other side in the middle of an empty room sits a man, tied to a chair. Bloodied and beaten. Your mouth goes dry.

Hyunjin saunters into the room behind you and closes the door.

You look between the beaten man, Minho and Hyunjin, “What have you done? Who is that person?”

“Nothing, yet,” Minho answers. “This is one of the men who attacked you. I wanted you to know I made good on my word, partially, until I get my hands on the others.”

You whip your throbbing head back towards the man, your heart rate sky rockets.

“What are you going to do?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

Minho seems to hyperfocus on the glass instead of looking at you, “I need information. So I’m going to ask questions.”

“And after that?”

Minho doesn’t answer so you twist around, painfully, and stare at Hyunjin who only stares at his fists.

“Are you going to kill him?” you ask carefully.

At this Minho looks at you, “Do you want me to?”

You can feel Hyunjins head snap up to look between the two of you.

“What?” you furrow your brows.

“I said, do you want me to kill him?”

You turn away from Minho and shut your eyes tight. In addition to the headache that now throbs, your stomach also feels nauseous.

The image of the three men who busted through your window that night has haunted you ever since it happened. What kind of person would beat a stranger who did nothing just because someone told him to?

Hyunjin. Seungmin. Jisung. Felix. Jeongin. Changbin.

They’ve all beaten people they didn’t know, killed people they didn’t know - just because Lee Minho told them to.

You look at the man strapped to the chair, his face is swollen and bruised, but unmasked; your eyes flood with tears. Suddenly you realize the weight of it all. All this time you’ve had this mindset that you were helping the good guys, that Minho’s ‘team’ was the team to be on. You only ever see them as victims, after the dirty work, they come to you bleeding, cut open, shot - they come to you as patients. There are no good guys, and now you’re one of them. You’re a part of this.

Like a ton of bricks hitting you all at once, you realize that running away won’t do any good. If you run then eventually you’ll get caught. Maybe by Taehyung, who would torture you and deliver the parts to Minho to break him. Maybe by the police, the few left who are actually still fighting crime that is; and they’ll put you in prison for being an accessory to God only knows what kind of criminal acts, for aiding and abetting these men in their endeavors, for practicing and distributing medicine illegally, for any number of reasons. Whether you like it or not, whether you want it or not, the safest place for you to be is right here standing between Hyunjin and Minho.

“Love? Why are you crying?”

You sniff and wipe your tears off your cheeks. You’re crying because you’ve solidified this life for yourself. Maybe as early as the night you helped Minho in the parking lot at work, or maybe it was sometime later, some undefined moment when you fell in love with the two men standing near you. Either way, there is nowhere to go.

“It doesn’t matter,” you say.

“It matters to me,” he says, “is this too much? I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

You shake your head, “No. What I mean is that it doesn’t matter if I want you to kill him or not,” you look Minho in the eyes, then do the same with Hyunjin, “You two are going to kill him anyway.”

You see the way Hyunjin looks at Minho and know that he just confirmed your assumption.

Minho lets out a long breath and nods, “Yes. It would have made me feel better if you wanted him dead though.”

You look into the room again, taking in the image of this man who beat you senseless. You wonder if it was the man who punched your face, or the man who held you down, or the man who kicked your ribs so hard they cracked. You clench your jaw tightly.

“I never said I didn’t.”

Minhos head whips towards you and though his lips don’t form an actual smile, a dangerously pleasant expression creeps across his face.

“Good then. Hyunjin, why don’t you take our girl back to Christopher, we can finish this when you come back down,” he instructs.

Our girl.

“I want to see it.”

Hyunjin makes an odd sounding noise in his throat, “___, no…”

Minho looks perplexed but he holds his hand up to quiet Hyunjin.

“It won’t be pretty love,” he cautions you.

“I’m an ER nurse Minho, don’t you think I know that?”

“If you stay and witness this, you won’t be able to leave us, you’ll be part of this,” he goes on and you look at him.

“Christopher told you I was running?” you guess.

“He told me that you weren’t sure you wanted to stay with us, and I didn’t blame you after what I said to you, and then what happened to you, but if you stay and watch this, you’re just as responsible as I will be. At least legally,” Minho explains.

You make a mental note to start keeping secrets, like Hyunjin does, you have no confidantes here. You’re not even angry with Chris. A part of you knew he’d run and tell Minho, maybe that’s why you said it.

“I understand.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Hyunjin pipes, “You’re the good part of all this…don’t become…” he trails off, you assume he meant don’t become like us.

You look up at Minho who shrugs, “It’s up to you darling, but I’ll admit it’s an unusual request.”

Maybe they’re right. Maybe you don’t need to see this. If you’re going to be all in then there are other ways to do so. The thought of Hyunjin thinking less of you is enough to stop your sudden need to see the man who nearly killed you murdered.

“Fine. Then I’ll see myself out,” you stop at the door, “but I think I’d like to see you later, both of you, I think we have things to discuss.”

“We’ll bring you dinner then,” Minho kisses your lips. He shouldn’t look as proud as he looks, and it shouldn’t make you feel as good as it does.

Hyunjin hesitates, but eventually he walks to you and pulls you into a hug. He doesn’t kiss your lips, but he plants a gentle kiss to your cheek.

There’s a charge to the room now, something heavy that sits between the three of you. A mix between excitement and dread.

“Don’t bring anything,” you say softly, “I’ll cook. I’ll have Christopher drive me to the market.”

“He goes in with you,” Minho orders.

“Of course,” you nod. “See you soon, make sure you both clean up for dinner.”

Endnotes:

Do not hurt me for leaving it here, with zero spice - trust the process and know that I have plans to make it up to you all. This was one of the areas of the story that I initially mentioned not being sure on how to break up into a chapter. So if it feels like a sudden start or stop that’s probably why and I’m terrible at transitions…and pacing…and ya know, lots of stuff 😂

Taglist(s): OKAY. So this week I learned that you can only tag FOIVE people in a post (wtf Tumblr?). So, with that newfound knowledge I suppose I’m going to have to reblog with taglists multiple times in order to include everyone who wants to be tagged, and that should finally take care of my “hey I can’t tag you problem” S/O to @moni-logues who brought this to my attention (and who also helped me talk myself through some decisions for this fic bc she is amazing and a wonderful listener and friend), and subsequently gets spot 1 of 5 in this round of tags haha.

Taglist 1: @katieraven @linocz @screamobubbles @hpnsfwaddict

#skz fanfiction #hyunjin fanfiction #lee minho fanfiction #skz smut #hyunjin smut #lee know smut #skz romance #hyunjin romance #lee know romance #hyunjin x reader #lee know x reader #stray kids

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tepid-tea · 23 days ago

Text

So this is a snap shot of my Actor!au- modern for my JayVik brain rot idea lol.

It’s not beta’d or anything so please excuse the errors…. I am also posting this on my break at work on my phone…..

———-

“Jayce!! Oh my Jayce you’ll never believe!!!” Caitlyn’s voice startled him out of his doze. He’d been napping on the plane for the last hour, getting rest before the chaotic weekend. There were planned photo ops for later this evening since his flight was delayed, his schedule now a mess.

“Mmm, what?” He opened one of his eyes to peep at his friend. She seemed to be vibrating in her seat, eyes glued to her screen.

“Viktor Novak just crashed a panel” Caitlyn turned her tablet towards him, a live feed of said panel on the screen.

“What!” Jayce lurched forward and tugged the tablet away from her, eyes wide on the screen.

“Yeah fans are apparently having a complete meltdown over it” she added, “it’s his first appearance since his accident and it’s a ‘Round Table’ panel at that.”

The Round Table had been the film to cause the accident three years ago causing the brilliant actor to disappear from the limelight. Rumor was the accident was so bad there had been a chance he’d never walk again. Thankfully word had it he walked with some mobility aids but again everything was speculation until now.

Jayce ignored everything else Cait was saying as he turned up the volume to hear the panel. Viktor Novak was an actor he had admired even before he’d made his own break into acting. Despite only being a year age difference between the two of them Viktor had more films under his belt then Jayce and award nominations to boot. Also the sheer amount of volunteer work and charities he was the face for; the man seemed to be always on the go.

“I’d have to say I was mostly shocked at the outpouring support I received.” Viktor replied, scratching at the beauty mark under his eye. “From friends, colleagues and of course the fans.”

He seemed to pause as the crowd screamed and cheered in support. It was easy to see the wall of sound wasn’t something he was used to. However the man still gave a kind smile to the crowd as they quieted down for him to continue speaking.

“But I wasn’t expecting it really, so thank you for all of it from the bottom of my heart” he said, ringed hand touching his chest.

The sincerity in his eyes was so staggering that Jayce’s breath caught. The close up they camera was getting showed how different the man looked. His hair long with soft ashen blonde mixed in with his dark brown. He looked soft and heartbreakingly beautiful to Jayce; delicate but still strong despite how thin he looked.

“Gods, you’re practically drooling over there Jayce” Caitlyn teased, causing him to look up.

“I’m not!” Jayce exclaimed, feeling his face heat up brightly. So he had a slight crush on a fellow actor he had never met. They would have met if not for the accident; they’d finally been slotted to be in the same film then was quickly recasted. Salo had been painful to work with, the disappointment hard to stomach when doing scenes. He’d already pictured them all in his head beforehand, the only reason why he had auditioned for the role was because Viktor had already been named for one of the support roles.

“Are you finally going to talk to him? This is your big chance, he’s at this convention all weekend.” Caitlyn leaned back in her seat, presumably going through emails.

“I want to try” he sighed;thinking back to all the award shows he’d gone to and had choked on his nerves.

The other man was always surrounded by other brilliant actors; especially Silco Marino who seemed to be his shadow. There had always been rumours of them dating as Viktor was openly gay and Silco seemed fairly fluid in who his affections went too. However nothing had ever been confirmed other than the two being close friends and frequently in the same films.

“I’ll do my best to try and make it happen,” Caitlyn smiled, tapping away at her phone. “Plus watching you fumble will be a treat; a nice humbling moment for you.”

“Thanks sprout.” He grumbled, going back to the tablet screen. Seemed like they were at fan questions now and Mel was answering something that was making the two men laugh.

“— head to toe with mud, I could not believe it!” Mel laughed, eyes bright as she looked at the two others.

“I thought it was a lovely day,” Viktor seemed to preen, screwing the top off a water bottle. “We have two very different memories of that scene.” He stopped to take a long drink.

“You were all snug and warm you little shit” Silco grumbled, “while I was standing in the muck in full armour I could barely walk in!”

The crowd seemed to laugh at that and the person who had asked the question thanked them and disappeared back into the sea of fans. They were quickly replaced by a young girl dressed up like a tiny Merlin in pigtails. She walked up the microphone and seemed to nervously scan the crowd as if looking for someone. She started to move her hands in what seemed in meaningful movements.

“Uh, sorry sweet heart—“ the moderator started, looking nervous.

“Ah, I’ve got this” Viktor hauled himself up out of his chair and made his way to the edge of the stage. He seemed to wave a hand back at Silco, who arched an eyebrow and moved to help the young man sit on the edge of the stage.

He quickly signed back to the little girl, whose face seemed to light up brightly in awe. Viktor looked at her with soft eyes then looked up at Silco who was standing by him still, looking fond. The whole crowd awed loudly and tittered at the display.

“Reduced to your techy now Viky? Alright alright” the older man joked and held out a mic to Viktor.

“So everyone knows, she’s asked me what scared us the most on sets” Viktor translated as the girls hands moved quickly. “She says the dragons seemed scary.”

“Well I wasn’t a fan of all the bugs” Mel spoke up, her smile wide and fond as well as Viktor quickly signed for her. “But the dragons were quite scary after hours in the dark on set.”

“I’m not a fan of the swimming scenes,” Silco admitted, crouching down next to Viktor. “I had to get my stunt double Alec to do a lot of those scenes for me.”

“She says water can be scary and you were brave for trying” Viktor watched her hands move as she looked at Silco with a sweet smile.

“Why thank you sweetheart.” Silco smiled gently.

“As for me, well I now have a fear of heights and falling” Viktor chuckled sadly, referencing back to his accident. “But before that it was the horses, one tried to bite my fingers once and never again!” He seemed to joke to lighten back up the mood.

Viktor and the little girl seemed to sign a little more before her time for her question was up. The crowd clapped loudly as it was instructed that was going to be the last question for the panel. Silco quickly moved to help Viktor back up into his feet, the leg brace not making it easy. There was a subtle flash and you could almost miss it but judging by the set of Viktors jaw he was in pain. Seeming to hover, Silco helped the younger man back to his seat before being waved off.

#jayvik #jayce talis #viktor arcane #jayce x viktor #arcane jayce #arcane #fanfics #my writing

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princess-charlie-of-hell · 20 days ago

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One thing that may disprove antis point about Lilith being an awful mother is comparing to an actual abusive mother and wife in the Hellaverse: Stella.

There's a couple of paintings where you can clearly see how content and happy she is with her husband and daughter. In contrast, Stella lacks any warmth or love in the portraits which reflects how cold of a wife and mother she is. Charlie sees her mother as a role model and Lucifer clearly misses his wife dearly which are things Octavia and Stolas obviously don't feel about Stella.

What the fans are accusing Lilith of aren't proven yet so they shouldn't judge her character harshly when she hasn't even spoken any lines yet. We've yet to see what Lilith's true alignment in the show really is but with what the series have subtly told us so far is that Lilith loves her family and that's good enough for me.

Exactly, Stella and Lilith from what we know about are completely different. Like you said, when we compare the painting of the goetia and morningstar family, the difference is obvious

Stella looks she is thinking about Stolas dead body right now but Lilith looks super happy, Stella and Octavia aren't touching each other only Stolas and Octavia are but the Morningstars are in a big hug with each other, Lilith doesn't look like a woman who hates her family here. Also they look so comfortable with each other

And now if we look at the relationship between them, one of the first scene of Stella (ignoring the pilot) is her screaming and throwing stuff at Stolas while Octavia is there

Or at the beginning of Loo Loo land, Stella has the blanket pulled over leaving Stolas with not much

We can see from the very beginning that their relationship is bad and Stella wasn't angry at Stolas because he cheated, she was angry that he cheated on her with an imp and in their bed. She doesn't care about their relationship but about status

And her and Octavia, i think the first time we saw them interacting was in Mastermind after Octavia saw that Stolas will get punished thinking that he died and Stella pulled her in a hug, she is hesitant about accepting her mother's "affection" because this is maybe the first time it happens, she only accept it because the whole situation was too much to handle for her and she needed someone. In Sinsmas we see that Stella laughs about Stolas attempt at calling out to Octavia while she was direct in front of them, she doesn't even sound surprised just annoyed at what her mother and uncle are doing

Then there is the Morningstar family, the first thing we see in the actually show is Luciliths love story. We didn't see Lilith interacting with her family yet because she didn't really appeared in season 1 but we can see that Lucifer and Charlie seem to love Lilith and both miss her

Lucifer is so depressed after she left that barely leaves the room and keeps the family painting there as well, if Stella disappeared Stolas would throw a party. Despite being "split up" he still wears his ring and as Mimzy flirts with him he shows it and Vivziepop even describes their relationship similar to the Addams marriage, everyone who watched or read anything from the Addams family knows that it means they were madly in love.

Charlie talks loving about her mother, she believes that Lilith is doing something important and misses her deeply, Lilith was one of her inspirations to open the hotel to redeem sinners in the first place. In the pilot she calls her mother after the failed interview with Katie killjoy.

And look at Charlie's character, she has no problem of showing her feelings and starts singing at every opportunity, Lilith raised her and if she doesn't like Lucifer what many seemed to think why does Charlie Resembles her father from the character so much?

From what I personally think Lilith saw a version of Lucifer which dreams weren't shattered in Charlie and that why she sheltered her so much because she was afraid that Charlie's dream would be crushed like her fathers and she would end up stopping to see the good in her people like him

So I think the whole Lilith being a second Stella is unlikely. Like if Lilith actually were the villain and doesn't care about her family then it also would be stupid that one morningstar family picture was turned in a poster to be selled as merch like image you buy it and turns out that Lilith is evil, i wouldn't be able to look at without feeling the urge to cry or scream

In my opinion Lilith being the villain would be also disappointing as fuck like we hear the story about this amazing woman who refused to submit to a misogynistic man and fought for her dreams , then she found someone who is a dreamer just like her and together they gave humanity freewill. As consequence for bringing evil into the world they were together thrown in hell, while her husband got depressed she thrived there founding a kingdom and inspired her people and daughter with her voice. Her ex husband then sent yearly an army down to kill sinners, people like her, but she continues to fight till she suddenly disappeared but her daughter continues then to fight for her people because her mother inspired her

Then hearing that she actually never cared about her husband, daughter and her people only was interested in herself would be such a downer. Like the woman who practically invented Feminism in her world is actually a cruel evil bitch who used her husband and manipulated their daughter for her selfish reason

But that won't be the case, I still think that Lilith and Lucifer are still together, like every time i hear about them being separated or divorce my first thought is Phineas and Ferb the second movie with the alternative universe (I think that was a movie) where it turns out the Doofenschmirtz and his "ex" wife are still together but divorced for the publicity so that if he get captured she won't be thrown in prison too , I really think that something similar is the case with Lucilith

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lovelygirlinbleu · 2 years ago

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How season one was Sidphie coded to me (this is just for fun and mostly a year old)

parallels, hints and clues:

EP.1 big night for both; talking about people they want to have a future with (I think they did this on purpose because Sophie very much exaggerated about Ian but they wanted her energy to match Sids); the phone switch; saying goodbye to the person they talked about at the airport, but only Sophie was shown (highlights how Hannah’s moments with Sid are not that important); spending their important nights together, (the bridge, after party at home)

EP.2 laying foundation for new friendships (Sophie - Jesse) (Sid - Charlie) that’s actually a group situation but they are the ones highlighted in the end; though Sid, Sophie and Jesse are apporached by Jesse and Charlie; Sid and Sophie are in confusion about the Situation

EP.3 Sophie sharing her feelings with Jesse / Sid sharing his feelings with Valentina / both getting cheered up; episode ends with Sophie & Drew and Sid & Hannah (for some reasons I believe that Hannah and Drew are connected, not only because they are friends)

EP.4 both worrying about their appearance (Sid- mangagement ring) (Sophie - Drew); both end up getting recognition for who they are (it’s also interesting how future Sophie told the son that the story was not done and then a scene appeared where people were gushing over Sid and Charlie and Valentina say that they won’t tell Sid - why was that important and why does she know when it was supposed to be something unspoken? ; Charlie father theory is hot here too)

EP.5 lowkey hate this episode but both having traumas connected to Sophies mom as the center (Sid’s is silly but still); him liking the poster that was also Sophies moms favorite, and again how does future Sophie know that story because that’s a very private and personal one; first Sid flashback

EP.6 getaway and hallway scene; both having problems with their partners about “secrets” or “the past”; another flashback for Sid; wearing the colour blue, (Hannah & Drew again)

EP.7 caught nothing in 7 but everyone is going through something

EP.8 I’m reaching with this one but them trying to fix something or make a problem disappear (Sid - Meredith) (Sophie - tooth (silly))

EP.9 relationship drama for everyone

EP.10 having their moment with the person from the pilot; full circle moment for both

other stuff:

Sid is the only one to have a real relationship with every character but somehow Sophie knows all the stories; she is the main character but we don't see that connection

there is something about numbers bc there is always a number between them in some scenes

he’s also the only one to get real flashbacks in season one; not even Sophie got childhood flashbacks

he has no last name

he always calms her down when she goes through something in her love life

now if it didn't get renewed I would believe that the father is either Sid or Ian

I think it's not a coincidence that Drew and Hannah are friends and that their problems had many parallels

they have the potential to become the bestest of friends too

Maybe if I care to over analyse this show again I'll do this for season 2 too but I noticed that the season now feels a bit more chaotic than planned out

#himyf #how i met yout father #sidphie #sidsophie #i'm so in love with them cryin

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light-wrath-paradise · 6 months ago

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Actually fuck it here's the rest of how it would go but it's a bit of a speedrun because I'd need 5k+ words to do it right:

For a brief moment, her eyes shine bright pink and the scene changes.

Mud coats your legs. The unpleasant opaque liquid makes her thighs disappear. The dark nearly makes her whole body disappear.

That's right, it's dark.

You barely make out the outline of her arms, but the stitches, the stitches radiate a new light. You should know how far they go, how they separate her forearms in perfect halves, how they split her torso like a pig to slaughter, yet this is the first time you properly notice.

"Hey," rings in your ears as her face comes into focus mere inches away from yours, "would you kill me?"

"What?" is all you can manage.

A smile

grin

grimace

laughing maw splits her face in half, just another stitch, except this one is pure black, a darkness to consume all darkness. Her neck bends in an angle not fit for the living.

"Will you not kill me?" her eyebrows squish, forming waves and hills separating them.

Before you can say anything, her nails dig into your arms. A cold liquid reluctantly makes its way to your elbows.

"Come on, will you not kill me? Would you be so kind? My task is over, it is all over...right?" that hole of a mouth spits.

Her eyes widen, two stethoscopes staring at you with intense primal emotions you cannot place. The wider they are, the stronger her grip becomes.

"It is over, therefore it is my time to die. So kill me. Just kill me."

The milliseconds that precede your words feel like centuries. Centuries in a darkness illuminated by nothing but several pieces of thread glowing neon pink.

"Why do I have to do it?" you ask.

At this, Liliana pauses. Her eyes, previously wild and present, stay still. They glaze over as if she was deep in thought or somewhere else.

You aren't sure how it happens or why, but where there was an abyss, there are normal lips again. Dry, chapped and pale but otherwise normal human lips. The eyebrows, too, regain a certain degree of humanity, the waves slowly morphing into much less noticeable curves. Even the darkness around you two turns a hue more appropriate for the night.

Before, you were starting to feel like there was nothing. Nothing but the woman in front of you and the mud below and the fully black sky above. But now it's just dark and if you squint, you can see a few stars in the sky, shining just as bright as your eyes.

The stitches still shine too.

"You do not have to do it," her voice is barely audible and her head hangs low. "If it is unpleasant to you, then do not do it."

Coming back to her senses, her claws remove themselves from your flesh. The liquid beneath your feet splashes as the distance between the two of you increases and the distance between Liliana's hands and arms decreases.

"I can very well simply leave the vessel. Quite the anticlimactic ending of a show though," she cracks a smile. "I was hoping for a proper end. A proper climax before the curtains close."

She turns away for a moment, her eyes looking up towards the sky. The smile stays on but you suspect the meaning behind it is on its way home. Her knees seem to buckle, a slight tremble overcoming the legs, and you consider whether or not you should catch her. Despite appearances, nothing happens.

"When I was but a child, I used to play here. I remember using a twig to draw shapes in the wet ground surrounding the swamp. I imagined myself drowning in the water, sinking to the very bottom, gasping for breath, for air that could never come, dying with my dress flowing around me. It was a truly pleasant day dream."

You don't know what to say to that (you do, but, maybe for the first time in your life, you keep your mouth shut) so you say the only other thing that you can think of: "I didn't know sutures could be that colour."

Her eyes trail to her forearms and chest almost immediately.

"Purple?" she inquires with furrowed eyebrows.

"They're pink, Lillian," you give her a few seconds to digest that. "They're a truly bright fuchsia pink, like some kind of glitter-decorated star stickers you give to children."

"...Oh," is all you get in response, her gaze firmly planted on the Xs on her chest. "Well, do you want to be the star of this show?"

You think about it.

The sky begins to darken once more.

You think about what you want to do and about what you should do. You think about teasing her, asking her who allowed her to die. You think about the possible outcomes of that and decide against it.

It's getting cold. You think about how much colder it could be. You think about your legs and ask yourself if they aren't starting to freeze in the swamp. You think about the murky waters.

"Get out of the water."

"I would prefer to die in it. Aqua vitae and all that, and I am not talking about alcohol right now."

You think about the lack of a weapon. About how her eyes reflect the sky - empty and still, not dead but not alive. You think about the radioactive glow of the coating of her fresh-yet-old wounds.

"I've always preferred 'Per aspera ad astra'. Hand me a sharp rock," you all but bark.

She shoots you a look. For a brief moment. For a moment that cannot be longer than a second and that can definitely be shorter. For a fraction of the click of a watch, the way she moves her body, the way she looks at you, the way her facial muscles twitch suggest she has realised something. But then...then it's gone.

The next thing you know, there's a rock in your hand.

The sky is a void with nothing in it. The swamp is an opaque abyss of static unlife. Despite standing right before Liliana, you would not be able to see a single hair on her head were it not for those threads, now the sole source of light. They form a constellation whose only mission is to shine brighter than the moon or the sun. The light overpowers her blue skin, coating her in the colour of roses. Or blood before a boy could wear the real colour of blood.

And then the curtain closes. The narrative ends. Ophelia has drowned, Eurydice will never see the light of day, Niobe has died. The curtain closes on the stage.

Realised Liliana is so funny for real because in a true inversion fashion she wants to die so so bad.

In the fangame you'd probably have to spend an unimaginable amount of time convincing a certain guy that nothing lasts forever and that it's better for him to accept peace and move on.

You'd have to convince Liliana "I'm a shield and Aesop's turtle" not to off herself. I am convinced that in AU AU AU, as far as the endings of the equivalent of the second installment go, she'd just...die in the evil endings. The little montages you get are whimsical and meme-y (well except for that one plot relevant ending). Well hers wouldn't be.

They'd start like that at first. A little retreat to a lake. A beautiful crystal clear lake with a waterfall nearby, nothing flashy, nothing famous. Nothing crowded. If you find it lacks the wacky vibe of canon, you are free to imagine a few badly cropped jpgs of seagulls hastily pasted into the scene. A funny little montage of your hijinks. Maybe she's holding up a giant lobster in one of them. Maybe she caught it with her teeth. Maybe you did.

And then she turns to you. That's wrong.

Her head turns to you, the creases on her neck a little too stiff, too dry. Something has changed.

What is it?

"Hey," she says.

What is different?

"I have a favour to ask," her voice carries through the air.

Now her whole body turns towards you. With a loud splash, her legs move her towards you, the lake almost making it look like she has no legs at all; a floating ghost haunting your present as much as your past.

Your ears pick it up first. Splash splash. You listen closely. Splash splash. You listen urgently.

"My dear friend," those words reach your ears.

Nothing else does.

The water is perfectly still. No waves singing their song. No sound of the water moving over stones and pebbles. No falling water to be heard. No birds nor frogs to start a choir. No rustling trees. No falling leaves for the wind to drum with. All is quiet.

"Would you do the honours and kill me?"

I realised that at this point I'm just writing a wholeass scene. I'm not gonna do that so godspeed and goodbye.

#kinda funny how i started writing it in the 2nd person because of 'imagine youre X. would that be fucked up or what?' reasons #but i ran with it and funnily enough it like. fits. since when youre the player you do embody the character youre playing so #2nd person is appropriate. like you are not escaping playing the game even when you are not playing the game.#i will not grant you the luxury of stepping outside of your choices and the narrative. get back into your clown shoes.

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bxckybarness · 4 years ago

Text

What I Missed - Loki Laufeyson

summary: while in custody at the TVA, loki realizes what he misses from the future, only to be surprised by what he gets in the present

word count: 2100+

warnings: a little angsty, a little emotional, mention of loki’s death, episode 1 spoilers

Today was certainly not Loki’s day.

Over the course of a few hours (or more, or less, this is the TVA, afterall) he had been in the custody of the Avengers, had happened upon the Tesseract and escaped from New York. It seemed too good to be true, and it was. Just when he thought he had truly outsmarted the Earthly heroes again, he was imprisoned and taken again.

Now here he was, under the supervision of the Time Variance Authority and one, Mobius, a bizarre administrator in charge of tracking down the most dangerous of variants. It all seemed like madness to Loki. He was used to silly games and grandiose tricks but this story of timelines and space lizards seemed beyond even his own trickery. It seemed downright absurd. And annoying.

He had been subject to what he would call an interrogation. Mobius, however, called it a simple conversation. A slideshow of his life, his “greatest hits” as Mobius had called it and a relentless fire of questions, the memory of which continued to burn in his memory:

Should you return, what are you going to do?

King of Midgard? Then what, happily ever after?

King of Space?

Why does someone with so much capability just want to rule?

Do you enjoy hurting people?

That one had burned most of all. Did he enjoy hurting people? Hardly. And it was upsetting to him that anyone would think that. But he also understood what he appeared to be to every other living creature. He had just relived the moment in which he killed that daft agent and his mother. His mother. He refused to believe he was at fault for that. Frigga was the only person who truly saw him and whom Loki cared for deeply. But it seemed so clear in the moving picture, he had led them right to her.

It was in that moment, with tears and rage in his eyes, he knew he needed to get out of the disastrous time circus. He no longer cared to be a monkey in this ring. If he could find the tesseract, he could escape and be free once again.

That plan had gone almost perfectly. The only thing that went wrong - there is no magic in the TVA. No matter how many times he held the tesseract in his hands, wishing it to take him back to Midgard or Asgard, he was met with nothing but the bland walls in this TVA Time Theater. There was no hope in escaping.

Feeling exhausted, Loki slowly moves toward the table in the center of the room. He sits down and admires the machine in front of him. As grim as the stories it held could be, it was still quite fascinating that it could replay the highlights from his life - in a weird way, at least. He reaches out and turns the knob, searching for the moment his mother dies. He finds it and watches in silence for a while, tears beginning to fall down his face.

He turns the knob again.

He sees a future version of himself sitting next to his father and Thor. He watches as his father declares his love for his sons. Sons, plural. Both Thor and him. A small smile graces Loki’s face before Odin disappears, leaving the two men behind. Loki holds back a sob as tears continue to flood from his eyes. His father did love him, did see purpose for him. He wasn’t just the mischievous son. He’s sad that it took this long to understand that, and sad that he never got to experience this himself, even if a future version of him did.

Another turn of the knob.

This scene immediately feels different. He sees a garden, full of life, beautiful flowers blooming in every direction. He sees himself, sitting under a tree smiling next to a young woman. As the scene progresses he realizes this version of him is smiling at you. He lets out a small gasp when he watches the pair share a kiss and wipes the quickly falling tears from his cheeks. He had always loved you, but had never gotten the chance to tell you. The two of you had met through Thor, when he brought both you and Jane to Asgard. He had taken to you quickly, enjoying your similar sarcasm and humor - something that was scarce within his home realm. You, like his mother, had always seen the good in him and had understood his struggle. It was something he would never understand, you being of Midgard. You knew what he had done and had been there to see the destruction, but still saw him not as the God of Mischief or Earth Enemy #1, only Loki. He aches for the fact that he never got to feel the happiness his future self did, especially when it was happiness with you.

Turn the knob.

Loki and Thor stand in a room together. Loki lets out a small laugh in the midst of his tears, wondering how his oaf of a brother managed to lose an eye. Maybe a dumb bet between the two of them, maybe there was a battle amongst the nine realms. He’s quickly pulled from his thoughts as he hears Thor speak.

“Maybe you’re not so bad after all, brother.”

“Maybe not,” the future Loki responds.

“Thank you,” Thor replies, “If you were here, I might even give you a hug.”

“I’m here.”

Loki smiles and nods to himself. From where he’s sitting now, it’s a wonder that he and his brother ever made up. He realizes now that the fighting and the sibling rivalry may have all been in his head. He, again, curses himself for leaving New York and allowing himself to miss these moments that he’s been waiting his whole life for.

Fast-forward.

He and you lay in a room, seemingly on the same ship as the previous scene. You lay snug against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you. You hum softly before speaking up.

“I love you, you know.”

By the look on both of your faces, it’s the first time this has been said out loud. There’s nervous tension in the room, Loki can feel it through this screen. He somehow knows the words his future self is going to say before he hears them.

“I love you too, darling. You bring out the best in me.”

You snuggle closer to him, if that’s even possible, and there’s a comfortable silence for a few seconds. Loki takes a moment to admire this picture. It was something he had wanted since he had first met you on Asgard. You had stuck out like a sore thumb, dressed in your casual Midgardian clothes. He couldn’t have missed you even if he tried, nobody could have. And boy was he glad about that now.

“Promise me something,” he watches himself say.

“Anything,” you whisper. “Anything for you, Loki.”

“Promise me, no matter what, you’ll always help me see the good in myself. I’ve too long suffered at the hands of those who desperately wish for me to see the bad.”

You let out a laugh and the Loki stuck in time laughs with you, “Oh, Loki. I wish you could see yourself as I see you. But I promise.”

“Thank you, my love.”

“You, Loki, may be a God, but you will always just be the man I fell in love with. The good, kind, and honorable man I call mine.”

Turn, again.

Loki sees himself kneeling and before he can question why, he watches as his future self moves to attack someone in front of him. When Loki realizes it's Thanos, he’s quickly on his feet, moving closer to the screen. The tears are gone now, and a silent rage burns behind his eyes. There was nothing from Loki but hate for the purple titan. He watches in horror as Thanos picks Loki up from the floor, a death grip on his neck. Loki wonders to himself how he would get himself out of this scenario had he been there. He assumes an illusion would do the trick. However, he notices your distraught figure behind the mad titan. He can hear your screams as you kneel next to Thor, who is imprisoned in cuffs. He hears you call out to him and he knows this will not end well. His suspicions are right when he watches his death. A shocked gasp comes from his throat as the tape in front of him runs out, nothing left to show.

Loki quickly sits back down and closes his eyes, trying his hardest to process the vision he saw. To one version of him, these would have been experiences and now memories. To him, though, these were all subtle tastes of a life he lost. He lost a touching moment with his father and a long awaited declaration of love from him. He lost the reconciliation with his brother and the confession that they had been more partners than rivals. Even though to him it had not yet happened, he missed it all, and it upset him deeply.

What hurt Loki the most was the idea that he lost his chance to feel his love reciprocated. Loki had never had much luck with romance. He was often seen as the sly younger brother and was usually too occupied to try and compete with Thor for the maidens at court. When he met you, he thought he had a chance. You were the first woman who saw him as his own person and not just as Thor’s brother. The relationship between the two of you had blossomed quickly and he found himself always sneaking away from his princely duties to see you. He had shown you his favorite places in Asgard and had opened up to you in ways he had never done before. He loved you and wanted you to be his. His one regret was not initiating a relationship before you had left for Midgard. And he thought his chances had been ruined by his actions in New York. Oh, how wrong he was.

Before Loki can dwell on his future more, Mobius comes bursting into the room.

“Ah Loki, glad you made your way back here. I have something for you,” he says.

“If this is another one of your tricks, I’m not currently in the mood,” Loki responds coolly.

“Just trust me on this one.”

Mobius shouts over his shoulder for someone to “bring her in.” Loki eyes the guards who walk in suspiciously until he notices who they bring with them. He can hardly believe his eyes. The gods in all the realms must be smiling down on him today, after all, because there you stand. He takes in your hideous red and white space suit, emblazoned with the Avengers logo, and he’s at least thankful he missed whatever battle this suit was required for.

He quickly stands and rushes over to you, a smile quickly gracing his face. You meet his gaze with a smile that is just as big and tears begin to flow from your eyes.

“Loki,’ you start. “Is that really you?”

He nods and speaks, although his words are barely audible, “It’s me, my love.”

“God, I thought I lost you forever. That’s why I went back in time to find you.”

Loki nods, now, unable to believe what he’s hearing, “You went back to find me?”

“Yes, but look what good that did me,” you say with a smirk. Loki’s heart pulls and he feels he could fall over right there. Norns, he missed you and your witty humor.

“Well,” he says, reciprocating your sly attitude, “You found me did you not? I might not be the same Loki as you knew, but I am still Loki.”

“The good, kind, and honorable Loki that I call mine.”

Loki smiles and you move forward to give him a hug. You’re cautious, though, because you aren’t exactly sure what part of the timeline this Loki came from. Maybe you had already been dating, maybe not. That was something to figure out another time though.

“Alright then,” Mobius says from behind you, “Let’s get you two caught up on what you missed with each other.”

Today was certainly not Loki’s day. And he had cursed all that was good that he had ended up at the TVA, taken from the life he knew. But now? He didn’t mind. He knew the relationships that were broken with his brother and father had been mended, he knew that one version of him had sacrificed himself for good and he had you, not only in memory but in the flesh. And sure, you had lots to rediscover within your relationship, but you would do that together.

#loki imagine #loki oneshot #loki x reader #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson oneshot #loki laufeyson x reader #loki series #marvel imagine #marvel oneshot #marvel x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson x you #loki x y/n

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thegryffindorprincess · 5 years ago

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Unforgettable//Draco Malfoy x Reader (SMUT)

A/N: Hi Lovelies! Working through my requests and stuff one at a time and love this one! Draco’s a little OOC, but it’s saucy and smutty and that’s all you Draco whores are here for, also including some platonic hermione x reader, enjoy x

Set: Golden Trio Era

Word Count: 2,002

Warnings: smut, drinking, swearing, choking

“It’s not good enough for me, since I’ve been with you”

“One fire whiskey on ice for you my love.” Draco grinned, passing Astoria the plastic cup from the table he’d just filled with her favourite drink, producing the ice from the tip of his wand. She giggled and settled into his side, letting his arm fall around her shoulders lazily. He would’ve like to say the way they stood, pressed together felt right, but it didn’t. Her bones didn’t quite slot into his properly and he stood a little awkwardly under her touch. Never the less, Draco placed a kiss to her forehead and observed the scene. Slytherin always held the best parties, that was common knowledge, especially for celebrations like OWLs. The room was decorated in silver, the streamers and balloons glistening in the pale light that always glowed from the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Every student from the fifth and fourth year was attending, not wanting to miss out on a chance to celebrate properly before school and life became much more serious. As Draco and Astoria took their seats on one of the emerald green sofa’s, students began to dance, Blaise tapping his wand to the speaker positioned above the fire place, letting muggle music boom around the room. He attempted to shake off the longing looks coming from some other girls in the room, Pansy attempting to catch his gaze from the dance floor, Sally-Ann twirling her fingers in her hair at the drinks table and Tracy who was trying hard, too hard, to make eye contact with him from the sofa opposite. Draco simply kept his eyes pinned to the entrance way to the common room, as a distraction. Astoria was pining over him at his side, drawing his eyes away from the door to pull him into a kiss. As she did so, he heard the door open and most of the chat that had been filling the room stop suddenly. He glanced up to see Y/N, Hermione, Harry and Ron enter the common room, laughing amungst themselves. Everyone began to whisper or discuss in hushed voices how incredible Y/N Y/L/N looked tonight, as the four of them stepped in confidently, smiling at each other at their impression.

“Wow.” Tracy Davis exclaimed spinning back round in her seat to face Draco and his gang who were all looking over at her, “she looks incredible.” Draco simply hummed through his lips, face blank. He watched closely as the golden foursome walked over to the drinks table, pouring their chosen beverage into plastic cups, Hermione making the ice swirl into intricate patterns in their drinks. The chat soon returned to normal, giggles errupting from corners of the room every few minutes. Draco sat with his hands pressed together, finger tips resting on his chin, watching Y/N’s every move. You see, the reason all of this was pissing him off, causing his face to knit into a scowl was because it had only been two months since they’d stopped seeing eachother, Y/N spinning him some bullshit about how she needed to focus on the golden trio and not him. And well, nobody rejects Draco Malfoy. He’d tried in the beginning to win her back, leaving her expensive gifts outside her door, persuading some first year minions to send her letters on his behalf, all of which she’d rejected. Then it turned nasty. Draco ended up fucking half of the girls in slytherin, attempting to make her come and talk to him, even if it turned into an argument. But she didn’t, she simply scoffed when Goyle would shout about loud Draco and Pansy’s sex was in their dorm room, roll at eyes at the hickeys adorning Sally-Ann’s neck and laugh with Hermione about his persuit of Tracy. What pissed him off the most though was how completely unbothered Y/N was acting, as if they’d never even spoken before.

“Draco what’re you staring at?” Astoria asked, Draco suddenly becoming aware that his eyes were burning holes in Y/N, his gaze unbreaking.

“Nothing.” He responded blankly. “Nothing important at all.”

XXX

Y/N held Hermione’s hands in hers as they danced on the floor together, being some of the only students who recognised the muggle songs that were playing. She loved when Hermione got drunk, her usual up-tight personality disappearing revealing a very care free one instead. Y/N herself could feel the alcohol rushing to her head as she twirled her best friend round in a circle below her, Hermione bursting into a fit of giggles when their hands became twisted and got stuck in an awkward position.

“I am going to go to the toilet.” Hermione suddenly announced, unlinking her arms from Y/N’s and staggering away towards the stairs.

“Hang on a minute,” Y/N said, following her giggling, “I’ll accompany you.” Hermione nodded quickly, holding Y/N’s hand as they climbed the marble staircase up towards the girls toilets.

“Such a good friend to me.” Hermione slurred as Y/N opened the toilet door for her, promising to hold it closed from outside for her. She laughed at Hermione’s drunk clinginess, listening to her babbling’s from the hallway. Just as she got comfortable a hand holding the door firmly shut, she heard footsteps coming in her direction.

“Sorry, the toilets occupied, you might have to wait.” She called out. To her slight shock, Draco appeared at the top of the stair case, gaze magnetic, jaw clenched. “Oh.” Y/N murmmered, awkwardly looking down towards her feet, the music from the common room still pounding the walls of the hallway.

“That’s not a very polite way to greet me Y/L/N” Draco smirked, watching how Y/N still crumbled a little under his stare. “Problem?”

“Not at all, just wondering what you want with me.” Y/N shrugged her shoulders, unbothered. He stepped closer.

“Just wanted a chat.” She swallowed as he moved increasingly closer, his cologne already making her throat close.

“Thought you were a bit busy for a chat.” Y/N grimaced, moving closer to the wall and further from him. “You know, you look a bit busy chatting with Astoria,” She sent him a warning look “and Pansy and Tracy and Sally-Ann.” Draco chuckled at her feisty tone.

“Jealous?” He teased, twirling his family ring around on his finger, looking darkly at her through his eyelashes.

“Hardly.” She scoffed. But he could tell she was lying from the way she couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Well you might be pleased to know,” Draco began closing the gap between them with a few large strides, one of his pale hands coming up to stroke her cheek, “It’s not good enough for me, since I’ve been with you.” Just as Y/N went to respond, Hermione ermerged from the bathroom. She awkwardly glanced at the situation, mouth opening and closing like a fish before walking back wards towards the stairs.

“I-I’m gonna go,” She stammered, turning and running down the staircase, “I think I heard Ron calling for me.” Both Draco and Y/N watched her leave, Y/N cursing her best friend for not taking her with her.

“Where were we?” Draco began again, his hand returning to her cheek. “Oh yes,” He moved his head closer towards hers, her breath getting caught in her throat, “and it’s not going to work for you either, this stupid arrangement.” Y/N scoffed again, this time rolling her eyes.

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” This time, Draco’s hand trailed it’s way from her cheek to her throat, squeezing just gently enough that she began to squirm.

“Because nobody can equal me.” Then he closed the gap, his lips pushing against hers, causing her to moan slightly as his teeth bit on her bottom lip. “No more games princess,” he cooed, “tell me what you want.” Y/N grabbed onto his back needily, moving closer to his ear so that she could whisper in it.

“Just fuck me Malfoy, you know it’s what we both need.” He growled then, attacking her neck with his mouth, carrying her on his front down the hallway to his dorm room, opening the door effortlessly with his free hand. He barged into the room, striding straight to his bed, laying her down roughly, so that her legs were dangling off of the edge and she was on her back. Draco growled again when her dress rode up just high enough so that her panties poked out underneath, his dick hardening with every new inch of flesh he got to see.

“Fuck.” He breathed out, watching how she squirmed every time his finger tip touched a new part of her body. He took off her dress, discarding it carelessly to the floor, unbothered about where it went. Then, he hooked his fingers in her thong and yanked it down, watching how she gasped when the cold air from the room hit her. He grinned as he stroked her slit with his fingers, making her let out a string of profantities and his name. “God, say my name again princess.” He hissed as he inserted a finger inside of her, pumping it in and out roughly.

“Draco!” Y/N exclaimed, eyes squished closed as he inserted a second finger into her pussy, She moaned loudly as he sped up, his other hand coming up to her clit, rubbing it in a way that made her hands shoot to his hair, pulling at it. “Don’t stop,” She cooed, making eye contact with him finally, “please don’t let it stop.” He grinned at her pleading but complied, continuing his movements until her shaking legs gave way, her cum wetting his fingers. He pulled them out after her climax before placing them into his mouth, sucking them clean.

“Sweeter than honey.” He announced, standing up and pulling her so that he was above her. She simply whined as he undid his belt swiftly, pulling out his cock, letting it spring free. “God,” He whispered as he lined himself up with her entrance, “nobody takes this cock like you do.” Draco pushed himself in, making her hiss with pleasure as she took him. He began to thrust into her, the slight curve of his dick hitting the spot inside of her that made her writhe in pure pleasure. “None of those stupid little whores take this cock as good as you princess.” He muttered into her ear as one of his hands came up to snake around her throat, his mouth peppering kisses on her forehead. “Whose my best girl?”

“Me!” Y/N moaned out, feeling his dick reach places that nobody else could, no matter how hard they tried. “I’m yours Draco, I’m yours.” He grunted out at her words, never so pleased to hear the phrase. He continued to hit her G spot over and over again causing her legs to start shaking again. “Dray I’m gonna-”

“I know, I know, let it princess.” He cooed at her gently, moving a strand of hair out of her face as it contorted into an “O” shape. Her legs began to vigorously shake then and Draco could feel her walls tightening around him. “Oh shit, I love you Dray, I love you.” She cried as he felt her cum. He growled into her ear at her tightness, letting his thrusts become sloppy inside of her.

“I love you too.” He moaned into her ear as she felt his cum release inside of her all at once, causing him to collapse on top of her in exhaustion. Y/N sighed happily as he moved off of her to fall at her side. “Can’t believe you spent two months ignoring me just to tell me you love me.” He smirked, fake gasping when she began swatting his arm.

“You said it back after fucking half of slytherin.” Y/N replied defensively, melting into his arms as Draco pulled the covers over them, snaking his arms around her waist, pulling her into him, kissing her neck gently.

“Yes but nobody compares to you Y/N, never will.” Draco whispered gently, feeling any tension in Y/N’s body melt underneath him. “You are absolutely unforgettable.”

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maxineswritingcenter · 3 years ago

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Surprise? - Shang-Chi x fem!reader

Banner by maysdigitalarts

Reader comes back after a business trip and decides to make her boyfriend dinner and clean up for him. Why is there a suit of armor in here?

----

“Shaun?” (Y/N) called as she used her spare key to get into his apartment. She knew he wouldn’t be there, Shaun was at work around this time. She squealed a little bit in excitement, happy that her plan was in action. Her boyfriend was, in fact, a man and sometimes men, especially when they lived alone, could be messy. So, as a thank you for being so wonderful, she wanted to surprise him with a clean apartment and a nice dinner. Unlike her other boyfriends, Shaun was very proud of her for having her career and encouraged her to do much and climb higher in her field.

She started in the kitchen, not much different than when she left, lots of take out. Shaun was a good cook, but he would be so busy that trips to the store were a luxury.

When the bathroom was finished, she made her way into the bedroom. That’s when it got strange. There was a ruby red vest on the bed, laid out like it was supposed to be there. Carefully, she picked it up, surprised by the weight of it. It smelled of smoke and the scaling was sharp. Were these... actual scales? And from what?

“What the hell..?” She set the vest back down and saw a staff, the same scales on either end.

“What the f-” She was cut off by the sound of laughter and the door closing. She could recognize Shaun and Katy, but there was a new, deeper voice with them.

Staff still in hand, she made her way to the living room where she found them all. Shaun and Katy were in casual wear, while this new man was in a burgundy tunic.

“Shaun.” She raised her eyebrows at him. The laughter stopped.

Shaun stared with his mouth open, looking between her face and the staff. Katy was a little more talkative.

“Holy shit, we forgot to tell (Y/N).”

“Forgot to tell (Y/N) what?” She narrowed her eyes.

“Uhhhhhh...” Shaun was still speechless.

“Ya know, I really hope this and that hard as diamonds vest in there are some part of some elaborate DND campaign.” (Y/N) chuckled.

“Uh, yes, DND, that’s exactly-” The stranger smiled nonchalantly.

“No, Wong, she needs to know the truth.” Shaun took a step forward and offered an innocent smile.

“Who the hell is Wong?” She motioned with the staff.

“I’m out.” Wong said, before walking further into the room and making a circle with his hands. In front of their eyes, a golden ring appeared, a whole different scene in the middle.

“What-” She watched as Wong disappeared through the portal, the golden sparkling circle closing until it was gone.

“What was that?!” She motioned the staff in a circular motion with the staff.

“To be fair, that’s new to us too-”

“Katy.” (Y/N) said sternly.

“Got it, I’m gone.” She turned back towards the door, putting a hand on Shaun’s shoulder, “Good luck, dude.” And with the door closing behind her, they were alone.

“You better start talking or I’m gonna learn how to use your magic staff here.”

“So let me know if I’m getting everything right.” (Y/N) said, curled up on the couch with her hands on her temples: “You were trained to be an assassin your whole life. Your dad, who was over a thousand years old, thought that your dead mother was trapped behind a barrier in a magic paradise that you can only get to through a magic death maze, but it wasn’t your mother, it was an gigantic soul sucking monster who was being fed souls by little soul sucking monsters. And you and your sister rode an actual dragon to kill the huge soul sucking thing. And now you are wielding these cosmic energized rings.”

Shaun, who sat across from her in a beat up recliner chair nodded, “Yeah.”

“And your name isn’t even Shaun?”

“I feel like you’re the most caught up on that.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Actually.” She stood, “What I’m most caught up on is the fact that I have no idea who you are. I know Shaun who is a valet driver and goes out to karaoke bars at night. Shang-chi... I don’t know that guy.”

“Wait...” He stood up, taking her hands in his, “I know I should have told you. I should have told you a long time ago. But my dad would have stopped at nothing to find us. And he would do anything, hurt anyone, to get to my sister and I. I could never forgive myself if something happened to you.” He said sincerely, “I love you, (Y/N).”

She sighed, smiling softly as she held his cheeks, “And I love you. Whether your Shaun or Shang. i just need to learn to know Shang first.” She kissed his nose, “Maybe he can take me out to dinner.”

"I think he would really like that." He grinned.

------

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#shang chi imagine #shang chi my beloved #shang chi x reader #shang chi x fem!reader #Maxine'sBirthweek2022

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djarinsbeskar · 3 years ago

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Dorne Part 2 - Boxer!Din AU

A/N: A cheeky birthday gift for my darling CiCi @astroboots I hope you have the most wonderful day, filled with laughter, love, lots of Riley cuddles and gifts galore! Thank you for being one of the most precious friends I've been lucky enough to meet and spend every day annoying, being a menace to, chatting with you and getting a glimpse into that beautiful brain of yours. Hope you enjoy it my love! I’m sorry it’s a bit of a mess asdfghj.

Word Count: 2.7k

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: SMUT! MFF oral sex (female receiving).

Main Masterlist | Boxer Materlist | Dorne Part 1

“I wanna see if she’s as greedy for pussy too, baby—”

“Mm, you’re just full of good ideas today, sweetheart.”

You preened under his praise, ass pressing back in a feline arch where he bunched your dress up. Your guest was still busy on her knees—dutifully lapping at his cock while he pressed an indulgent kiss beneath your jaw, inhaling the perfume you favored and the musky—primal scent of arousal that clung to your flushed skin. He nosed along the line of your jaw, your fingers carding through his hair, completely lost in each other as he found your mouth again—a low groan lost along your tongue when the woman hollowed her cheeks around his sensitive head.

“First… I wanna see how greedy you are for pussy.”

The low lights cast shadows across your features, but the way your eyes darkened—pupils dilated and ringed with kohl and mascara—ritual paint for a sacrifice to a heathen god—had him snarling at the worship you and your companion lay against his body. He swallowed thickly at the striking smirk that morphed on painted lips, grazing his mouth but avoiding a kiss as you dragged them down the exposed length of his torso.

The length of your dress shifted like water—deceived his lust addled eyes to appear like the wily, tempting swish of a fox’s tail as you slinked down his body to stroke your fingers through the other woman’s hair.

You purred something into her ear – secret and alluring – a siren call that darkened her gaze as she turned away from his cock, fist slowly stroking him as you tempted her to stand with your mouth on hers, tongue stroking into her mouth as you rose. She was helpless to resist – fuck how could she – the way your eyes indulged in her bountiful curves and striking silhouette highlighted by a silver dress that ended up in a pool on the floor when you pulled the straps down and let gravity do the rest.

“No underwear?” you hummed as you circled the woman gracefully, and while your guest was naked and breath-taking, his eyes were just as easily pulled to your form as your legs extended with each step in an effortless prowl, without the bolstered force of a male—but softer, deadlier. A lioness—a hunter. His.

Fuck—

You made him sit—made him wait. And fuck, he indulged your little power play—it was enticing, for now. That’s what he told himself as he watched the scene unfurl before his eyes.

The noises you were able to drag out of your guest were filthy as she lay sprawled like a decadent buffet on the oversized ottoman – the quilted velvet easily the size of a king sized bed where it sat under the dark light in the center of the room – and was his sponsors ingenious way of getting around the ‘no bed’ situation in Dorne. Din couldn’t count the number of times he had to stop himself from gripping his cock to stroke some relief as your tongue delved expertly between her folds.

His fingers curled into his thigh, one hand massaging his balls distractedly as his lips twisted into a snarl.

The raven haired beauty – curls chaotic and wild fanning around her head – arched with a graceful bend in her spine. A dancer. Din mused as a licorice black melted into whiskey orbs—filling them with need as rich as his appetite for sex. They dropped to your hand pressing into the supple, toned flesh of her thigh to spread her legs wider. All part of the show… giving him a perfect view of the glistening slick gathering between puffy lips you were holding open with your other hand to flick your tongue over her hooded clit and curl up to gather that arousal on it.

“Mm… baby—she tastes so good…”

You were on your knees on the ottoman—down on your elbows with your ass in the air for him to watch the barely-there strip of fabric you called underwear darken with your own desire, gorgeous thighs accentuated by the suspenders that made up that fucking sinful lingerie set he had bought for you.

Fuck you were gorgeous… pink tongue that had lapped at his cock earlier now dripping saliva onto the pretty pussy of your guest, fingers smearing it into her slick with quick rubs over her clit and slit—making her cry with the pleasure as wetness leaked from her cunt and into your mouth. He could feel his muscles hum, a tense film of pressure running along his nerves and making him need to move. To stalk over there and take what as his. Waiting only made his neck strain with the growl he directed at the ceiling and your mischievous giggle incite a feral snarl in return.

“Come taste,” you looked over your shoulder, lips shiny and swollen from where he had ravaged your mouth—eyes weaving a spell over him, and he was helpless to resist you. He shot up, a bullet—a bull towards the cape as you refused to break eye contact when you kissed her navel, beckoning him over.

He was parched.

And your mouth was the first thing he needed. Hand moulding over the curve of your ass to dip along that strip of fabric between your cheeks, he pressed his fingers against your slick pussy lips from over your underwear and devoured your mouth. Groaning at the combined taste of your natural essence and the sweet tang of your guest, an accented aroma that brought you both to a frenzied high as his tongue greedily pillaged every drop.

The dancer – he decided she must have been – keened as he lost himself in your mouth, pulling his attention down to her naked form. He moaned with a feral lace of pride as he saw your fingers disappearing into her cunt with long, teasing strokes—your mouth finding his neck as he watched. Eyes only falling shut when you bit him. Bit him so hard his cock twitched violently—a silent claim in this hedonistic indulgence.

Mine.

The mark said.

Fuck, you were perfect. He gripped your jaw from where you were worrying a trail of marks into his flesh to kiss you hard,

“Back to work,” he growled.

And just like that, the dynamic shifted—an easy dominance he knew you weren’t strong enough to resist. Not when it was him. You might dominate your guest, but you would submit to him.

Challenge flared in those orbs, the woman on the ottoman gasping your name when your disobedience, your defiance showed itself in a third finger inside her dripping cunt—a hard swipe across her clit. Retaliating. He led your head down, back between her legs, and you followed—caught off guard when his free hand tugged your panties to the side to give your pussy a series of quick slaps.

You were drenched.

Slap slap slapslapslap—you mewled into her pussy, sucking her clit into your mouth as you fingered her—his own fingers grazing your neglected clit and making you push your ass back against him. He dropped to his elbow beside the dancer – Ally? Abby? Still no clue – and dropped his mouth to one of the peaked tips of her breasts. They were begging for attention, crowned in the glisten of his saliva as his tongue circled one, then the other—graveled growls soft and honey sweet against her skin while he stroked your hair.

“Talented, isn’t she? That tongue is a sin—”

“So greedy for my girl’s tongue…”

“Why don’t you beg for mine?”

And she did.

She begged. Begged for your tongue—begged for his, begged for you both. You glanced up her body, a landscape of willowy curves and heaving breasts as warbled pleas spilled from those pretty lips. You withdrew your fingers – she sobbed – to paint that body as you moved up it and Din took your place. Streaks of sticky slick stained her skin in the journey your fingers took up her toned stomach and between her breasts. You caught her whimpers with your mouth when Din’s tongue dragged a long swipe along her cunt, his facial hair sanding against soft skin and making her spasm under his tongue at the mixture of sensations. So different to the softness of your body.

He growled into her wet heat when she managed to pull your breasts from over the top of your bra, a pert nipple swallowed into her mouth when you leaned up enough to let her play. Giving him a sinners view of your wet cunt and rapturous expression when your head fell back between your shoulders as you leaned over her face, letting her ravish your tits and make moans spill wantonly from your lips.

It drove him wild, and he channeled it all into devouring her pussy with rapt dedication.

“Open,” he snarled when her legs tried to close around his head—her gasp of pleasure muffled around your breast when he forced even more juices from her as two thick digits speared her entrance. You keened, arching your back as you held her head to your breast, grinding your hips back in some desperate attempt to find relief. Relief your guest gave you with her fingers between your legs, rubbing over your clit in frantic swipes over your underwear.

“Din,” you panted, and he was delirious.

Drunk on the taste of you both, drunk on the fact that even receiving pleasure from another—it was his name you moaned. He wanted to take you right then and there, but fair was fair.

Your guest sobbed when he pulled away—cunt clenching where his fingers once were and the orgasm that had been cresting ebbed with a rock of her hips as she chased it. You dropped a kiss to her cheek, soothing her cries for release as you cupped her jaw to swallow them.

Din watched your hand slither down to her cunt once more, fingers splitting around her clit lazily while he shed the open shirt he still had on, kicking his pants off while he was at it.

“Up here, sweetheart—” he commanded once he was free, heavy cock in hand when he settled down on the ottoman. He smirked at the cogs turning in your head—shown in the glint of curiosity in those gorgeous eyes before you crawled into his lap to cup his cheeks. You cleaned his face of the other woman’s essence with kitten licks and languid kisses, and he almost lost himself in you—almost. He turned you with a guiding hand to your shoulders, your back to his chest while he nudged your temple with a growl, “gorgeous… so fucking gorgeous—”

You wriggled slightly – poor thing… untouched, desperate for relief – and he hooked your legs over his, spreading your thighs wide for the dancer to see how wet you were—her dark eyes turning obsidian as she crawled on all fours between your legs, kissing you indulgently and then him.

“Make my girl feel good, then you can cum,” he purred against her mouth, turning to press a kiss into your temple when you whimpered, your hand having dropped to stroke over your clothed clit.

He pulled it away – behave, baby – and you whined into his mouth as you turned your face up to kiss him, whispering against his mouth in nonsensical strings of babble—asking for more, please please please Din.

The woman watched you in awe, the control you had over her melting to willing submission as you kissed his scruffy jaw with wet licks.

The temptation to just fuck you right there and then—to turn you over and mount you roared in his mind with a territorial claim. Your pleas whispered so softly into his skin, he ached to fill you—to turn those pleas into cries of bliss as he sank his cock into you. Not yet. He wanted to see you come undone on another’s tongue as he directed them. The indirect pleasure he would give you—it was impossible to resist.

He pulled your panties to the side again as the woman kissed up your thighs, across your navel – that’s it… tease her – and the air on your cunt – soaked with desire – made you bite your lip, eyes fluttering closed when her wet breath fell onto it.

“Spead her open for me—” Din hummed, revelling in the wet squelch of them against her fingers as she opened you wide, her eyes full of hunger and her tongue flicking out across her lips. They lifted to him, her thighs rubbing together from where her own naked cunt was exposed and wanting as she waited, nuzzling her nose into the seam of your thigh—the trembling clench of your pussy finally making him show you some mercy.

The image of another woman’s face buried in your cunt when he finally allowed her to slake her hunger for your arousal made him feel more powerful than any victory in the ring, any bowed submission by bolstered masculinity from unworthy adversaries. It was an incomparable lust—to see you pleasured this way—framed by his body, the tongue between your folds under his command, and the both of you eager to please him—to please each other. Masculine pride that didn’t need overbearing territoriality, but a guiding hand and the trust you both put in him. That is what made his cock leak and twitch against your back.

“Avoid her clit—”

You whimpered.

“Two fingers in that needy cunt… listen to how soaked you are baby—”

She fingered you diligently, slender digits echoing the patterns he knew would have you crying—have you squirming had he not kept you prisoner against his chest—patterns he dictated. A swipe to your clit by her thumb, a mercy on her part—and he snarled a warning down at her.

“Slower, slower—she likes to be edged, don’t you, sweetheart?”

His arms kept you at his mercy, your body open and wanting as the siren between your legs slurped and sucked and spread your wetness—had you quivering under her tongue. He could hear it. The wet drags—you always got so wet, and the velvet soaked beneath you only proved the fact. Her tongue circled your clit, dropped down to prod your entrance on his command. You knew it—that was why your pleas were directed to him, your nose buried into his cheek as you babbled incoherently – touch me, touch me please – your fingers clawing at the back of his neck.

“I am touching you—” he muttered as he ghosted his lips across the arch of your neck that lay in vulnerable deference against his shoulder—hands tweaking pebbled nipples after he had unhooked the front of your bra, rolling them in coarse fingers before he gave one of them a quick slap, “what do you want, baby?”

You rutted your hips down to push your cunt further into the dancer’s mouth, her moans of approval making you sob at the vibrations, the dual clash of soft wet tongue and rough dry hands on your breasts. He snarled a command to suck your clit—the woman’s fathomless gaze meeting his as her ruby lips wrapped around that pretty little bundle of nerves to make you bow up out of his lap, your hands gripping her curls to claw her closer with a litany of curses and fuck fuck yes—yes more more more—

“Stop.”

Your sob was heartbroken as your orgasm slipped from your grasp – wind through the pampas grass – and you turned, his hand tangled in your guest’s hair to yank her back, and you dropped to engulf his cock in your mouth. It made him choke—made him forget for just a moment as his head fell back and a guttural moan dropped from his mouth in encouragement.

Din dragged the woman up as you sucked him off—kissing your essence right off her with long licks and plundering swipes into her mouth, his hips lifting to push himself deeper down your throat as it convulsed around his girth with a gag.

“I make you both cum, understand?” he growled—smirking when you both nodded deliriously—you with a messy mouth and stroking the length of his cock as it rested against your cheek, and her pussy drunk delirium fogging her gaze.

“Good girls…”

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#happy birthday cici!#boxer!din #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #mando #the mandalorian smut #din djain fanfic #star wars #the mandalorian fanfic #pedro pascal

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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 4 years ago

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if I can never give you peace — two || Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x reader // Word count (chapter): 5.8k // Genre: Mafia AU, Hybrid AU, enemies to lovers // Ao3

↳ It starts like quite a few stories do, in your world. Girl meets boy, who happens to be a hybrid, girl buys him at an auction where hybrids are sold, boy falls in love with her, girl gets bored of him. Then it’s not so typical anymore, when the boy ends up forced into illegal fighting rings, until he makes a wrong move and the girl’s father decides he needs to be killed.

Where does that leave you? Well, you’re the one who handled Jungkook’s fight and generally organized his life, and, when the girl’s father, your boss and mafia leader, tells you he wants him ‘put down’, you’re the one who has to get it done. Except, instead, you let him escape, and everything turns out fine.

Until he comes back.

Warnings and tags (chapter): Descriptions of violence, Threats, kind of dark in general

First · Previous · Next

The car is late, you think as you smooth over the fabric of your skirt, your mouth twisted in a disapproving scowl. Annoyance is one of the few emotions that ever appear on your face, and you don’t even bother to hide it. You have only been standing there, waiting, for a few minutes, but it already disrupts your perfectly well-oiled routine. This is just one of the many changes that have come with Jungkook taking over, but it could be the one you are the least fond of.

You used to have the routine down to a T. You knew exactly when to leave your apartment so that the car would stop in front of you right as you reached the pavement. There were small hiccups every now and then — traffic, last-minute phone calls —, but most of the time, it went perfectly. You liked that. Having that kind of control, when your life had always been completely out of your hands, was comforting.

That went out the window the day you started working for Jungkook.

When the car stops in front of you, five minutes, that’s three-hundred seconds, after the agreed-upon time, you take a short breath before opening the door and stepping in.

There, of course, is your new boss, sitting with his legs widely spread on the leather seat. He changed your discreet sedan for a limousine, which you find obnoxious, but you didn’t protest. You liked to think that you were better than that at picking your battles

“Mr. Jeon,” you say with a nod, voice even.

Jungkook grins when you call him that. You know he enjoys the title, the power it indicates, particularly since hybrids are supposed to only ever have the same last name as their owners.

“Lot of work to be done today,” he comments, and you know he’s just saying that to rile you up. You used to report to Mr. X, but you worked on your own more often than not. Now, you’re basically Jungkook’s glorified secretary. You wouldn’t particularly mind the change if it didn’t mean that you had to sit and watch him superbly ignore your carefully crafted schedule, as he had every single day for the past week.

“Indeed,” you reply without batting an eyelid. “This morning, you have a meeting with Suga,” this one he should go to, he never misses them, “then you are supposed to eat with Fred Lucas,” chances were he wouldn’t show up to that and make you take him to a fancy restaurant instead, and you would be the one to have to handle the situation with him, “and later today I think it would be important for you to pay a visit to the Mystery Room.” That place was one of the few legal aspects of the business at the moment, if you ignore the drugs that get sold there, and it was not a location you should lose right now. “They have been quite… difficult, since the change in direction.”

That last one is new, and you’re not sure how Jungkook will react to it. Of course, there is plenty more work to do, but you’re trying out new methods to get him to do at least what really matters. You don’t understand why he would hire you if he doesn’t let you do your job, but hey, at least you’re alive. And so is your family.

You don’t know how long that will last, though. Unless Jungkook seriously gets his act together, it won’t take long for someone to think that they can do the same thing he did, and have him murdered. You’re even mildly surprised it hasn’t happened yet. That’s the thing, when a leader gets killed. It weakens the whole structure, and it gives people ideas.

The grin disappears from Jungkook’s face and he nods gravely at that last piece of information. That catches your eye, because it’s new. You tell yourself that maybe, just maybe, he spent the last week riding the high of his victory against Mr. X, and that he will be efficient if there’s trouble, at least.

“Cancel that second thing,” he says. “I want to eat at that restaurant I went to last week. You should get me a reservation there.”

Or not.

“But you can go meet him,” he adds, and you blink.

“Mr. Lucas is expecting to see you,” you say, in case you weren’t clear.

“And he doesn’t get to demand my presence like that,” Jungkook snaps. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from wincing. His voice sounds harsh, cutting. Dangerous. “Did he think that I’d go ask for treats because a human joined us? That’s not how that shit works.”

Okay. He’s not wrong here, but you don’t know about this— approachto the situation. Fred is, indeed, one of the two human leaders who decided to immediately join Jungkook when the news of the death of Mr. X and the uprising of hybrids in various parts of your branches in the city spread. You wouldn’t be surprised if he expected a treatment of favor for that, too, but you’re not sure letting him know how little his gesture was appreciated was the way to go.

“I don’t think—”

“He’s replaceable,” Jungkook says with a dismissive movement of the wrist. “I’ll swap him for one of my men the second he makes a mistake. It would be a lot better if no one forgot that.”

The look he gives you makes his message crystal clear. You feel your mouth getting dry, but you know nothing is showing in your expression, and that at least is a relief.

“I’ll go to the meeting and get you your reservation, then,” you say, pulling out your phone. “Does the rest of the schedule work for you?”

Jungkook frowns, and the tiniest feeling of satisfaction spreads in your chest. You know he’s just applying pressure and waiting for you to crack, but you won’t.You’re used to contorting yourself to please everyone. You’ve made it work for years, and it will take much more than those childish games for you to snap.

Or, at least, that’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the past week.

“Fine.” Then he closes his eyes and leans back in the seat. You raise an eyebrow at the sight. You know it’s not because he trusts you, but because he doesn’t think you have the guts to do anything to him — and because, even if you did, he’s pretty confident he wouldn’t have any trouble stopping you. You hate that you find something endearing in that vision. Jungkook was genetically designed to be handsome, and he is.More than that, though, when you look at him right now, even though his long bunny ears are skillfully hidden under a headband, he looks cute.

And he could — and would — take less than a second to snap your neck.

“This afternoon should be fun at least,” he mumbles under his breath, and you hide your grimace.

Shit. That can’t be good.

It’s been clear to you from the very first day that Suga knows exactly what he is doing. It’s also been clear that this isn’t his scene. Being at the forefront of operations, taking the lead — it’s obvious that he would much rather stay in the shadows. You’re not sure how important he was to Jungkook’s organization before, since no one has bothered trying to inform you of that, but you suspect that he’s usually more the type to be in the field.

Right now, though, he’s standing in front of a small group, exposing what the recent developments have been. Sitting behind Jungkook, you listen to him attentively. Those reunions should become less frequent, but right now things could still change completely, and you cannot afford to be taken by surprise.

You are, however, starting to feel less and less comfortable with the fact that nothing seems to be coming out of them. Sure, Yoongi informs you of the people who have sided with Jungkook and of those who are openly opposed to him — a minority, so far — but there is a large group in between that seems to be in no hurry to take position. And you don’t like it.

It hasn’t been long since Jungkook has taken over, but you should at least have gotten someintel by now. You’re not sure what isn’t working here. For now, you don’t want to risk provoking anyone by offering your services. Worry is starting to gnaw at you, though. You could all be driving into a dead-end street at full speed, and that stupid struggle you’re having with Jungkook just isn't worth dying over.

“So not much has changed,” Jungkook comments, tapping his fingers onto the table. He looks nonchalant, but you notice a muscle in his jaw twitching. You wonder if he understands more than he lets on.

“Things have been stagnant,” Yoongi admits without batting an eye. “There hasn’t been any open rebellion, but communication is lacking.”

“That needs to get better.”

“We’re working on it.”

They probably are, but it doesn’t look like that’s going well. Word has reached your ears that some of the branches have been keeping hybrids at bay as discreetly as possible.

“What about that Mystery Room thing?” Jungkook asks, frowning. “What’s going on over there?”

“The what?” Yoongi frowns.

Jungkook looks puzzled — pissed, actually — for a second, then glances at you over his shoulder, and the attention of the whole room suddenly shifts to you. You straighten your back, swallow.

“The owner of the bar has missed a payment to us,” you state calmly, “and it seems that he has no intention of making it and is trying to get out of his contract with us. It would be better if we didn’t lose it right now.”

“What do you mean, ‘it seems’?” Yoongi asks, narrowing his golden eyes at you. His voice sounds more like a hiss, and this time, you struggle to hide your reaction. You haven’t forgotten what it felt like, when you thought he was going to kill you. It’s affected you more than you’d like to admit.

“I have a contact who—”

Yoongi clicks his tongue, and you close your mouth.

“I’m going there today,” Jungkook informs him, and Yoongi nods.

“I’ll be around.”

The two men have a silent exchange of looks. Their relationship is somewhat atypical, not something Mr. X had with anyone. It looks like they genuinely rely on and trust each other. You suppose someone else would find it touching, but you don’t have it in yourself. Especially not when that means they both have it out for you.

“Haven’t you been following what we’ve been talking about here for the past week?” Jungkook snarks at you, and you blink. “Any information you get from now on needs to get to Suga so he can factor it in.” At that, you give him a disbelieving look. That just won’t work. It can’t. Not for the first time, you wonder how much he underestimates you, exactly. If he knew anything about the way you work, about how many contacts you have and how much information you’re usually juggling with, he would never ask that of you.

Yet you nod. You don’t know yet if you’ll send a believable amount of intel to Suga, or just absolutely drown him under it until they tell you to stop, but once more, this just isn’t worth fighting over.

Especially when fighting over something can so easily mean dying over it, in your current situation.

“Will do, Mr. Jeon.”

He looks displeased, and you know it’s because all he’s waiting for is for you to slip.

“I shouldn’t even bring you to these meetings. You’re not even taking any notes. That’s fucking useless.”

It takes everything in you to bite back a scoff at that. You could tell him you don’t need to take notes when Yoongi is talking about minimal changes in a landscape you know on the tip of your fingers, that maybe you would if he said anything of value, and that this wouldn’t be an issue if people actually feared him.

You marvel at how annoyed that quip makes you. You suppose you don’t like it when your competence is questioned. You don’t like the threat either, though. You don’t want to risk falling out of the loop.

“I’ve gotten you a reservation at that restaurant,” you say. “If things are done here, I’ll be on my way to meet Mr. Lucas.”

Changing the subject. Deflecting. Trying your best to live to see another day. It seems like it’s all you’ve been doing for the past week. You know you can keep it up for a long time, you’re patient enough. You also know that this game is set up to make you lose.

Right now, as Jungkook looks at you, clearly not amused by your attitude, there is a terrifying moment during which you fear that he might just drop the charade. The only point of this whole thing is to get rid of you. He could decide he only wants to do that any second.

“Yeah, right. Be on your way.”

He dismisses you like you’re some low lackey, but that, at least, isn’t anything new, and you know how to handle it. You bow politely, then exit the room.

“You really wanna keep her around?” Yoongi asks once you’re gone, and Jungkook groans.

He doesn’t know why he had expected you to break easily. He’d seen you work for Mr. X, do that same shit he makes you do and survive as long as you had, so he should have known you’d be good at it. He supposes he’d been used to you making decisions for him, back then, and had thought that was a normal thing for you, that you wouldn’t enjoy being in the position of taking orders. But you were, after all, just someone who worked for others that whole time.

Not that he gives a fuck about it. He couldn’t care less why you did the things you did. All he wants is to give you a taste of your own medicine. Dangling a false chance of survival in front of your eyes and let you handle the rest yourself. So as long as you push through… well. He’ll let it slide.

It’s not like you can keep doing it forever anyway.

Fred Lucas worries you. He’s always smiled too widely, been too loud, made too many jokes. You know Mr. X considered him to be some sort of buffoon, but also kept his distance from him. Mr. X didn’t like people who pretended to wear their hearts on their sleeves.

“Always a pleasure to see you, (Y/N),” he greets you warmly when you walk up to him and you give him a nod. If he’s upset that Jungkook isn’t there, he doesn’t show it, just like you don’t show your distaste for his use of your first name. “I’d like to discuss with just you, though,” he adds, eyeing Hector, who’s standing beside you. The fact that you still have him by your side is the only good thing that has come from working for Jungkook so far.

You don’t like that. You’re all too aware of the fact that this is his land, and that the only reason why he’s saying that is that Hector is a hybrid. If that gets back to Jungkook, it wouldn’t be good for Fred — but you don’t think he’ll go down without a fight. You glance at Hector, who looks as placid as always and offers no help. The gears in your head are turning fast. Before, you were protected by how indispensable you were considered by Mr. X. That is clearly not the case anymore, but Fred likely isn’t aware of that. Yet.

On the other hand, sending Hector away would show weakness, and you can’t afford that.

“Hector goes where I go,” you say.

Fred’s smile widens even more.

“Of course, of course, can’t trust anyone those days, can you?”

You wonder if it’s a jab at you and how quickly you changed sides, but he is more or less in the same position, so you could just be paranoid.

“Come on, come on in, let’s get ourselves a drink.”

You don’t want a drink, but you do follow him in. The sooner you do that, the sooner you will be out of here.

Fred has a lot of things to say. Most of it isn’t relevant to anything that is happening right now, but you’ve never been able to tune things out. You always worry you’ll miss an essential piece of information. So you listen as he babbles about his business — getting weapons in and out of the city, something he is decently good at — but also about his family, his friendships, and his favorite kind of alcohol. You let him pour you a glass, even if you have no intention of touching it.

“I hear you,” you manage to interrupt him, “but I am curious to know why you wanted a meeting with Mr. Jeon. It seems to me that you have the situation here under control.”

Flattery has always worked on Fred, and you have no issue in using that against him.

“Of course we do,” he gloats. “It’s just— There are a lot of rumorsfloating around those days, you know?”

You do know. You suspect Fred has heard the same things as you. You also suspect most people have been very careful not to let those things reach Yoongi’s ears.

“People are talking about a ‘human opposition’ forming,” Fred gasps dramatically. “Can you believe it? Some people are really not happy about being led by a hybrid.”

That seems to be more concrete than what you’ve heard, which means that Fred could be exaggerating things… or that he was contacted to join that opposition. And you don’t like that second possibility, not at all. You trust Fred about as far as you can throw him, and that means you certainly don’t trust him to not try and play both sides.

“That was to be expected,” you reply calmly. “I do not doubt that Mr. Jeon knew such a reaction was coming.”

Fred narrows his eyes at you, trying to gauge what you knew then and what you know now. Which isn’t much, but that’s not something you plan to let slip out.

“Do you know of anything specific?”

You see from the glint in Fred’s eyes that he knows the game is on. If you know something and he doesn’t tell you, he will look suspicious, but he could also reveal too much, and you doubt he wants to play his cards so soon.

“I— don’t, unfortunately,” he finally says, and you nod. Either he hasn’t heard of the Mystery Room, or he is voluntarily hiding it from you. Regardless, that limits how useful he is to you. “But the word on the street is that Jungkook may not know what he’s doing all that well.”

You send him a sharp glance. He’s taking a risk in telling you that, you both know it. That doesn’t make the information any less precious.

“I see. And, again, I don’t suppose you know where this— ‘word on the street’ is coming from?”

He shrugs, a true picture of innocence, and maybe you’d have believed it if Fred hadn’t been in the business for longer than you. He knew, he just wasn’t telling because he wanted to preserve his opportunities if something happened.

“I have to go, then. Thank you for the drink, Mr. Lucas.”

“Please,” he says, holding out his hand. “Call me Fred.”

That won’t be happening.

“Goodbye, Mr. Lucas.”

Once you’re out, you take a second to collect yourself, Hector following like a shadow and waiting for you silently.

“Is everything okay?” he asks after you’ve mulled over the conversation that just happened for several minutes.

“It’s fine,” you say as a reflex. You couldn’t stop thinking about how Fred had taken a gamble when he’d proclaimed his allegiance to Jungkook. He’d bet on him coming out on top, and yet you didn’t trust it. You couldn’t think of a reason why he would do that instead of carefully waiting to see how things would go, like everyone else. You didn’t like this. Not one bit. “We need to get to Mystery Room,” you add.

“Of course,” Hector nods, gesturing towards the limo, and you don’t bother repressing a groan this time.

“God. That’s so tacky.”

That brings a smile to Hector’s lips, but you don’t smile back. You never do. Instead, you climb in, roll your eyes at the whole thing, and let yourself be driven away. You can’t come to a conclusion about Fred Lucas just yet, but you have no intention of forgetting about him either.

It takes you a few seconds, once you’re out of the car, to understand that something isn’t right. You’ve never been good with feelings — instincts, as hybrids call them — and the air doesn’t feel particularly tense or charged to you. Hector stands a little close to you for comfort, and you piece things together from there. There are a few cars around, but not too many, which isn’t surprising considering it’s the middle of the afternoon. Still, you can hear voices from inside, and you know there’s an argument going on there.

“Let’s go,” you say with a decided nod, and Hector leads the way, shoulders tense, ready to pounce if needed. You trust him to do his job, and that’s a lot, coming from you.

You frown when you walk into the bar, taking a few seconds to let your eyes get adjusted to the lack of luminosity, and that frown only deepens when you hear the argument going on and recognize Jungkook’s voice. God. The concepts of subtlety and discretion are completely lost on him, aren’t they?

Making your way through the room, you try to evaluate the situation. Yoongi is leaning against a table, looking bored out of his mind, though you’re sure he doesn’t miss anything from what is going on in the room. As if to prove your point, his golden eyes flick towards you for a second when you approach, before looking away, clearly uninterested. Other than him, it seems that the only other people present are the owner and various employees. You think it’s stupid and dangerous that they showed up here basically alone but, for the millionth time today, you grit your teeth and don’t say anything.

There are five men around, including the bouncer and a security guard. They’re probably armed, and that’s to say nothing of anyone you cannot see. Outside of Yoongi, though, no one pays attention to you, not until the bartender asks loudly “Mojito, as usual, Miss (L/N)?”

It’s a bit early for that, actually, but you give him a nod. The Mystery Room isn’t quite your scene — you’ve always been one to prefer classy restaurants — but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re well-known here, and everywhere, actually, which is something that everyoneknows, except your own boss. That is obvious by the way people’s attitude shifts when they see you. The owner bows to you politely. You acknowledge it with a curt movement of your chin. Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. He doesn’t look happy about it.

You wait until you have your glass in your hand to say something. The silence that fills the room is heavy, and you can feel Jungkook’s anger emanating from him, having lost the men’s attention. He’s the man who murdered Mr. X, took over half of his operations without anyone noticing, and their fucking boss, and they’re still treating him like a low-life hybrid.

“You haven’t been paying what you owe us,” you say, almost lightly, when you get your drink. “Has business been slow?”

You know it has. You know people aren’t too sure what to think of Jungkook yet. You also know they’ve still made money. Better yet, you’re sure the men in the room know youknow that. You’re giving them an obvious way out. All they have to do is say “yes”, and you’ll come up with something. You won’t let them go off scot-free, but there’s no need for this to end in a bloodbath, either.

“That’s not the issue,” the man says, voice raspy, and you don’t let it show, of course you don’t, but you’re still taking the hit. They’re underestimating Jungkook.

This might be the last mistake they make.

“I think it would be better for everyone if we could work through whatever issue there is,” you say slowly.

Better for them, really, especially because this is you giving him a second chance. There won’t be a third one.

“I’m afraid we don’t, uh, approve of the recent change in direction,” he replies, a stupid grin on his face. He’s mocking you and your infamous overly procedural speech. You know people say you can’t accept who you’re working for, that you can’t take the idea of having blood on your hands.

You may not care, but you’re well-aware of it, and you really don’t appreciate him saying that to your face. You’ll have to make an example out of him.

You sigh and shake your head at his answer. You’re not going to enjoy this. You’ve seen people’s attempts at rebellion against Mr. X, even if those were few and far between, and no matter how much of a fight they put up, it never ends well. For them.

You’re prepared to just leave the place and arrange for it to be set on fire during the night, when Jungkook’s voice snaps you out of it.

“What’s your problem with the change in direction, fucker?”

The mood changes immediately. Hector’s hand on your shoulder gently pulls you back, and Yoongi hops off the table to come stand next to Jungkook, hands in his pockets. He looks nonchalant and relaxed. He could probably easily kill everyone in this room and not get a drop of blood on his jacket.

The owner squares his shoulders and walks up to him. He’s slightly taller and much larger than Jungkook.

“Listen, bunny…”

You barely have the time to widen your eyes at the word, to think about all the ways Jungkook has made it clear that he’s not your typical rabbit-hybrid before his right hook connects with the man’s jaw, so fast you would have missed it if you’d blinked.

A moment of stunned silence follows, during which the man stumbles backwards, hand coming to cup his face in disbelief. And then, he seems to decide that it’s a good idea to retaliate. The dozens, hundreds maybe, of fights you’ve seen Jungkook win flash before your eyes. He doesn’t stand a chance.

People start moving around you, but it seems like it’s only a fistfight. No guns are drawn, for now, and you’re reminded of how much you fucking hate watching people fight. You take a step back, bored already at this stupid display of strength and violence. Still, you can’t help it when your eyes are drawn to Jungkook. There’s a— curiosity within you. How much has he truly changed, in the past two years?

For one, he certainly isn’t pretending this time, isn’t trying to make this fight last for a few more rounds. There iscertain showmanship there, though, you note. He’s giving time for the owner to recover while he takes out some of the other men with hits of surgical precision. He wants them to seewhatever he’s going to do to their boss. Hector and Yoongi keep the fight contained, don’t let anyone escape or call for help, but Jungkook doesn’t need their help. No one here is a threat to him, and it doesn’t take long for the men to be on the floor, groaning in pain.

The owner pushes himself up, spits some blood on the floor. Jungkook turns to face him and beckons him closer with a flick of his hand. He looks amused.

“You fucking piece of—”

This time, Jungkook doesn’t go for the head. His fist gets the man in the ribs, and that first punch is followed by dozens of others, not giving the man any respite, not letting him breathe. When the man falls back, Jungkook doesn’t stop, though the hits slow down, based on what you can see and hear. You have to clench your jaw to stop yourself from grimacing at the sound of flesh hitting flesh, of the bones underneath clashing. It was drowned out, back when he fought in a ring, but knowing it was there disgusted you back. You don’t know why, you just hate it. It makes you sick.

When Jungkook finally gets back up, he hasn’t even broken a sweat. There are five men on the ground, clenching different parts of their bodies and crying out in pain, and he isn’t even out of breath.

“You should fucking reconsider,” he spits out.

They won’t have to. This place will be gone soon enough.

His eyes meet yours as he walks out, and his expression turns to a disgusted scowl. It almost draws a scoff out of you, but you hold it in, and instead, you follow him dutifully.

Jungkook doesn’t speak to you in the car, eyes instead on his bloody knuckles. It will heal fast, you know, and that’s probably why he doesn’t bother taking care of it. When the car stops, you look outside and find yourself faced with your own apartment building. It’s not even five in the afternoon yet. You turn around to give your boss a quizzical look.

“You’re not needed anymore,” he shrugs. He doesn’t sound like he’s playing this time, though you’re still sure that he wants to get on your nerves.

You hate that it’s working this time.

“The day isn’t—”

“I think you’ve proved exactly how efficient you are today,” he says, obviously dismissing you. “I have no fucking idea how you got this job.”

You bite your tongue not to reply. You don’t care about the job, you don’t care about his opinion of you, you barely even care about the Family. You should just nod, give him the usual “yes, Mr. Jeon,” and walk out. But something keeps you in place a little longer than it should, and that’s how much you hate jobs that aren’t well done.

Your voice sounds distant to your own ears when you say what you’re supposed to, your body doesn’t feel like your own when you walk out and close the door. Your breathing quickens while you hear the car leave behind you like it’s all happening in a dream, your head spins, and you stand frozen in place, staring right in front of you.

Is this your life now? you wonder, feeling your heart thumping like it’s trying to get out of your chest. Are you going to let yourself be so disposable, so mediocre, let everything you’ve spent years building fall apart? This isn’t the time for pride, you’re well aware of that, but it’s still eating at you inside.

You walk back to your apartment like you’re in a trance. There’s a heavy weight on your chest, and you realize you have to make a choice. If things stay like that, you suppose Jungkook will have your head at some point. This is a fight of patience. One you cannot win. But if you make yourself indispensable, then maybe, maybe you can survive it. You’ve done it once already.

You brush aside the little voice mocking your reasoning, telling you that you’re doing this because you don’t want to lose your status. Not because it’s wrong, but because you know that’s not enough of an incentive for you to take a risk. You need something stronger than that. Even if you know it’s a lie.

That doesn’t stop your hand from trembling as you dial Yoongi’s number. You’re happy there’s no one to see you, because God, you couldn’t take your carefully crafted facade crumbling right now.

“Yes?” he answers quickly. If he’s surprised to hear from you, it doesn’t show.

“What are the plans for the Mystery Room?” you ask, satisfied that your voice doesn’t quiver, even if you’re a mess right now.

There’s a silence at the other end of the line, and you suspect he’s considering not answering you, so you take the initiative.

“You need to at least replace the owner,” you say, kicking off your shoes. “You can convince him to sell to us,” — convince, one of your favorite euphemisms — “or get rid of him and get the place from his family. Burning the place down is also an option. We can’t let what happened slide like that.”

“Hmm,” Yoongi says.

“Also, it would better if Mr. Jeon could avoid fighting with people. The last thing we want is people who think they can challenge him.”

“He can take them.”

“That’s not the issue. If people think they have a chance, they’ll keep trying. We don’t want them to do that.”

Another, longer silence.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because he’ll listen to you.”

“And you think I will listen to you?”

You roll your eyes. It’s strange, you know you’re gambling your life right now, but the tension you were experiencing earlier has been replaced by an eerie calm. You feel detached from everything.

Maybe you’ve been doing this for too long.

“You don’t have to,” you say, “but this is my job. I’m good at it. If you just let me do it, it would be far more efficient than whatever has been going on for the last week. I know you don’t trust me, but you can probably come to the same conclusions as me in this situation at least.”

Your heart is hammering in your chest. This is an explicit critique, something you would never have risked with Mr. X, and it’s the most open act of defiance that you’ve ever done — and it’s to convince them to let you workfor them.

“We’ll see about that,” he replies dismissively, and your shoulders fall at first, but then he adds, almost reluctantly, “I’ll take what you said into consideration.”

“Good. We also need to talk about tomorrow’s meeting. I’ve gotten some important information about the opposition to Mr. Jeon, and I think—”

As you explain the situation to Yoongi, you feel yourself calming down. Maybe it’s because you’re doing something that’s familiar to you, you’re not sure, but you can breathe again, and that solidifies your conviction that you’re making the right decision.

Finally, you’re ready to take back your life.

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dracowars · 4 years ago

Note

Hi could you write something where the reader is on the place of Hermione on the manor during DH1. And Narcissa sees her memories and finds out she's with Draco and how happy he looks with her. Happy ending please🥺 also Hufflepuff reader

daffodil | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x hufflepuff!reader

word count: 2,3k

summary: where narcissa is y/n's last hope

a/n: rip helen mccrory <3

warnings: angst, torture, mentions of blood

universe: harry potter

Trying to suppress your tears, you have to helplessly watch as your close friends Harry, Ron and Hermione are pushed away from the large, dark room to the basement, leaving you alone. Not actually alone, but in the sense of everyone who remains in this room now, will not help you out of here. It all began so well and was going smoothly.

Your plan was almost perfect, it should not have failed. Nevertheless, you were caught by Death Eaters and taken to Malfoy Manor, the mansion of the Malfoy family, which ironically also includes your boyfriend. Draco, of course, did not know about your plan, otherwise he might have accidentally given something away. You wanted to tell him, but you could not bring yourself to do it. You did not want to disappoint your friends and risk your plan. Anyway, it seems like Draco does not know what his own family is up to either.

“So, you are the pathetic little Hufflepuff girl who sniffed around in my dungeon in Gringotts and stole, huh?”, Bellatrix directs her sharp words at you after she made sure that her sister safely locked your friends in the cellar. “Speak!”

“I do not know what you are talking about”, you lie to her, your whole body visibly shaking in fear. You have heard numerous stories about Bellatrix Lestrange, and one was worse than the other. She is merciless and will not stop until she gets what she wants and that is exactly why you are not quite sure yourself why you suddenly have the audacity to lie directly into her face in this moment when it is obvious that you definitely know what she is talking about.

“Do not lie to me, you cheeky brat! How did you get my sword!?”, she furiously screams at you all of a sudden, anger in her eyes, making you shrink back a little. With her crazy sparkling eyes, she takes another step towards you until you retreated so far back against the wall that you have no way out, no way to escape her.

Before you can answer, however, you already feel the tip of her wand against your throat and you have to swallow hard as she drills it deeper, an insane smile on her pale lips.

“Well, if you do not want to speak, I will gladly force you to speak”, she giggles wickedly and before you know it, she harshly grabs you by the arm and forces you onto the cold wooden floor. You can intercept your fall with your hands in the last moment. Scared, you turn around to face her, your gaze falling on Narcissa, who watches the scene unfold in front of her without a word, just like her husband.

Nobody in Draco’s family knows about your relationship and so far, it has always been better that way. Even so, you do not come around wondering what if they did know about it right now. What if his mother knew about your undying love for each other? What if you would tell her right here, right now that you were the one who was always on her son’s side when he felt bad, that you cheered him up in his darkest times and supported him when no one else did. You were with him after he was declared a Death Eater and you were there when he decided against murdering your headmaster. You were there for him all this time when his family was not.

You can’t continue your thoughts when Bellatrix suddenly kicks you in the abdomen and you softly groan in pain, curling up on the floor.

“I will not ask you a second time: Where did you get the Gryffindor sword from?”, Bellatrix interrogates you again and harshly turns you on your back with her foot, using all her strength to prevent you from moving. Slowly she makes it hard for you to breathe and you desperately try to free yourself from her grip – without any success.

Since you still have not answered her question, she ends up pointing her wand at you threateningly again and before you even have the chance to admit anything, she puts an unforgivable curse on you.

“Crucio!”

Your body writhes in pain on the floor, screams escaping your mouth louder and stronger every second. You try to defy the curse, but you are too weak and can’t defend yourself, having to suffer the worst pain you have ever felt in your entire life.

And despite all of this, your thoughts go back to Draco. His smiling face appears in your mind and his gentle laughter echoes in your ears.

“D-Draco”, you gasp in pain and suddenly all of the pain disappears at once. Bellatrix has now lowered her wand and looks at you in confusion. But not only does she, but Draco’s parents as well.

“I did not ask about Draco!”, Bellatrix freaks out again in a matter of seconds and finally crawls over your weakened body, your faces so close to each other that you can feel her breath on your skin. “You have played enough games.”

At her words, you feel this unendurable pain again, but this time it feels different. It does not come from within you, you can still feel your body as a whole, and it feels a lot more realistic until you suddenly feel her rip open your arm with a sharp dagger inch by inch. Screeching in pain, you try to throw her off you, but she presses you onto the hard ground with all of her might and strength.

Exhausted, your head falls to one side, your body twitching at every painful touch on your arm. Tears flow down your already damp cheeks and you look at Draco’s mother through your blurry vision. She has averted her gaze from the terrible scenario.

“D-Draco.. I-“, you stutter out, the feeling of weightlessness from being on the verge of passing out obfuscating your words and thoughts. Still, you know that there is only one last chance that may get you out of here alive, even though you may regret it in the end.

“I love him”, you cry out in a heartbreaking voice which Bellatrix does not seem to mind at all. Narcissa, however, lifts her head in an instant and looks directly at you, her eyes full of sadness as far as you can tell by your restricted vision. Your eyelids are getting heavier by the second and just when you are about to pass out completely, you notice how Narcissa finally comes closer and thus puts an abrupt end to your unbearable pain.

“Legilmens”, her soft broken voice whispers and the world around you begins to spin, to transform.

And suddenly you are peacefully lying in a bed that is all too familiar to you, your gaze focused on the door that is opening at this very moment, revealing none other than Draco himself. You feel strange, weird, as if you have experienced all of this before. As soon as Draco enters the room with his head hanging low, you uncontrollably run into his arms. You speak to him with calming words until everything starts blurring in front of your eyes and you find yourself in a different place.

You are in a flooded bathroom, a slim and fragile figure trembling from crying from the bitter sobs at the sink in front of you.

“Draco”, you hear your own voice softly speak up and he jolts, turning around to you, his eyes red and swollen, his face completely dejected. Not another second goes by and you lie in his arms again, comforting him.

“I can’t do this anymore, Y/N. It hurts so much”, Draco’s echoing sobs ring in your ear as he rolls up the sleeve of his white shirt, revealing the Dark Mark. “Please help me.”

However, you are not able to help him because you are forcibly torn away from the moment again and land in a large, wide meadow of flowers. Warmth created by the burning sunlight flows through you and the exclamation of your name from the distance brings a happy smile to your face immediately. Not far from you Draco runs up the hill towards you, a smile as bright and wide as yours decorating his beautiful facial features. Quickly, you get up from the soft picnic blanket that you have placed in the meadow and greet him with a firm hug.

The next moment, you lie on the blanket, hugging and looking up at the clear starry sky after the sun has already set hours ago. Draco repeatedly points to different shining stars which form a constellation, telling you everything he learned in astronomy, while you can’t take your eyes off him.

When he finally notices your gaze, he turns his head towards you so that the tips of your nose are almost touching. Neither of you say a word and you just stare into each other’s eyes lovingly.

“I love you”, your voice carefully confesses and your heart hammers against your chest.

“I love you too”, Draco replies, connecting your lips in a gentle kiss.

The safe and happy feeling suddenly gets teared away from you and you find yourself back in the dark room of the Malfoy Manor. Shocked and not so sure about what has just happened, you straighten up. Only now do you realize that Bellatrix had let go of you in the meantime and is now looking down at you with widened eyes, standing closely behind her sister.

It hits you like a train when you realize that Narcissa has just used Legilimency on you, which caused you to be subjected to a rapid succession of passing memory scenes and in some cases even made you briefly lose consciousness. Thus, not only your expressed thoughts or perceptible feelings were revealed to her, but also your hidden feelings and experiences as well as your most secret desires.

An extremely uncomfortable silence arises in the room while all eyes are on you and only you. Lucius and Bellatrix seem rather angry at something, with Narcissa looking at you with pity and sadness.

“Take my hand”, Narcissa breaks the silence first, but because of her words you only look at her in confusion when she extends her hand to you. Looking back and forth between her outstretched hand and her face, for some inexplicable reason, you realize that she actually wants to help you.

As soon as your hands touch, everything around you blurs again and the next thing you know everything goes black. You feel pressure on your body from all directions and you find it difficult to breathe until everything around you takes on its usual color again, allowing you to breathe in deeply.

You feel the ground beneath your feet and notice that you are standing upright. And you notice that your and Narcissa’s hand are still connected. Startled, you pull your hand out of her grasp and look around.

“Where did you take me?!”, you angrily ask her, the place where you are now not seeming familiar to you and the fact that she just kidnapped you after invading your privacy makes you feel even more confused.

“To safety”, Narcissa replies shortly and it seems she wants to add something when her gaze suddenly slides past you, to something hat has now apparently appeared behind you.

“Mum?”

“Draco?”, you breathe out in relief when you hear his voice behind you and immediately turn around to him. Tears well up in your eyes and you run into Draco’s arms at lightning speed, but Draco seems to be quite perplexed. After all, he does not know what happened.

“W-What?”, he tries to form meaningful words while still not returning your hug, standing there rigid and tense.

“She knows about us”, you whisper in his ear while sobbing and his posture relaxes from one second to the other and he wraps his arms tightly around your trembling body without hesitation, his face disappearing in the crook of your neck.

“What happened?”, Draco asks you worried as he gently loosens the hug and takes your face between in his hands, not understanding why you are crying. With a shake of your head, you indicate that you do not want to talk about it and he understands, giving you the space you need, before his gaze falls back on his mother, who is watching you two silently.

“I am sorry”, Narcissa finally clears her throat, causing you to look at her as well. Tears have now also formed in her eyes, but her lips are adorned by a gentle smile as she looks at you. “It should never have come to this.”

“Why did you do that? Why did you help me?”, you want to know and step closer to her, your hand intertwined with Draco’s.

“I was inside of your head and saw all of your memories”, she explains and while she nervously plays with the long black sleeves of her beautiful dress, she looks up from the ground again. “I have seen how happy you make my son. I could not let them harm you or it would break him. You- You are too important to Draco.”

You are speechless at her words and Draco seems pretty stunned by what his mother said as well. Before either of you can comment on it though, she speaks up again.

“I will make sure that your friends get free”, she adds, letting her inner conflict reflect in her soft voice. “Stay with Draco. You are safe here until I have clarified everything. I will come back.”

“Mum-“

“I promise you that everything will be fine”, she gently smile at him, giving both of you a loving hug, before she disapparates into thin air and probably reappears where she has just saved your life moments ago.

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blogevaawrites · 4 years ago

Text

BIG DEAL

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: smut, cheating, angst

Summary: After being away of you boyfriend for three weeks, you come to Chris’s house after he had thrown a party where you met a girl you haven’t see ever. The beginning of the relationship was unconventional so you couldn’t do anything else but suspect.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

There’s something I do when I don’t know how to deal with a situation.

I clean my closet.

I organize it; I try everything on, throw out pieces I don’t wear anymore, or I don’t like. I like to spend time doing this just because I don’t have to think in anything else.

“He’s calling again, you’re not picking up, are you?” Linda asked from the other side of the room. I was surrounded by my clothes and shoes and things, and she was working in her laptop.

“No.” I answered simply and kept doing my thing.

“Isn’t better if you pick up and tell him to stop? This is his tenth call today, and I don’t want to know about texts. This is not right.”

“I’m not ready to think about this.” I muttered. I didn’t realize she got up from the bed and walked to me.

“It’s fine, everything is going to be fine” she said hugging me. Her touch brought tears out of my eyes, but her kindness made me feel safe.

Linda moved to NY a few months before I did, and I could be more blessed because she moved to the next door’s apartment. She has been there since then; our friendship was the kind of you find just a couple times in a lifetime.

“Don’t worry I will be right here. We can clean your closet as many times as you need.”

It’s been three days since I left his house, and my phone has been ringing since then.

I spent my first day watching true-crime documentaries, eating ice cream and drinking wine. The second day I started donating the clothes I wasn’t wearing anymore. And today, I have cleaned the closet three times. Linda enjoyed the first two days, but she hated to organize anything, so she killed time working from my bed.

“That one is pretty sexy. Why don’t we go out to dinner and have a few drinks tonight? Lucy and Vanessa have been calling too.” She spoke.

I thought about it for a few minutes, and I was actually feeling sick of being here.

“Yeah! Why not? I need more alcohol” I joked.

The night went pretty fun, and I kind of felt better and ready to face everything, his apologies, his face and his voice. Around three a.m I was ready to go back home and sleep my hangover. “Are you sure you don’t need me there? Linda asked when I told her I was leaving, she was having a good time and I didn’t want to spoil her fun. “Yeah! Don’t worry, I’m sick of being depressed, I’m ready to be me again.” She smiled at me and hugged me before I left.

The uber ride was fast, no traffic nor people in the street this made my way home calm, and the driver was quite funny. He waited for me to get in the building and left, leaving alone again. The lobby’s lights were automatic, but they weren’t working very well, I knew the way to my door, so I didn’t bother turning my phone’s flashlight on. Going up stairs, I tried to take off my high heels, but something made me get alarmed. A dark big shadow at the top of the stairs. My heart stopped for a second.

“Holy crap! What are you doing here? Why are you sitting there? You scared the shit out of me, asshole!” I yelled when the light of the hallway turned on and all of the sudden the silhouette of a big man appeared at the top the stairs. My heart started to beat in this normal pace when I recognized his face.

“I’m sorry that wasn’t my intention. You weren’t picking the phone. I was worry about you.” His hands went up in a signal of inoffensive. His voice was hoarse and his eyes a little bit swollen and red. I could say he had been crying.

“I’m fine, you can go.” I said, walking straightly to my apartment’s door. I looked for my keys in my bag as faster as I could.

“Can we talk?” he moved to stay behind me while I opened the door. He didn’t get too close to me and I felt grateful for that.

“I don’t want to hear anything, and right now the only thing I want is to sleep.” I got in the apartment and closed the door rapidly. With my forehead rested against the closed door and my hands still on the handle, I listened to him to beg. I missed him, his voice, his smell, his fucking presence made me shake my legs.

“Please, just give me five minutes. I love you and I can’t let you think I don’t. I know I fucked everything up but…” I opened the door before he could finish it. He looked quite surprised when a move away to let him pass.

He didn’t say anything, walked in and moved around awkwardly. I told him to sit with my head. He took a sit on the couch and I didn’t move from the door, with my back resting it in. His eyes stared me few a few minutes, making me feel uncomfortable, defenseless.

“You look beautiful.” He said quietly.

“You have five minutes.” The alcohol in my body brought rudeness out of my mouth. I was tired, kind of drunk and still hurt by him so couldn’t let him get any closer in any dimension.

“I’m sorry.” He said before his hands rubbed his face roughly. “I went to NY to tell you everything. I really did, I felt horrible, and I didn’t want to hurt you, but I knew I had to tell you. Carly thought it too. You know them, there’s no place for any secrete between them. When I arrived in here, saw your face and I felt your arms around me I chickened out. I realize that I couldn’t live without you; for the first time in my life, I was really scared to lose somebody. And that was a feeling I wasn’t used to.” His statements made my heart ache. I wished anything of this had happened.

“So, you lied? Because you loved me.” I knew he wasn’t a perfect boyfriend in the past but that was a shitty excuse.

“I didn’t know how to tell you. When Carly called that night, she heard you in the back then she assumed that you forgave me, and I didn’t deny it. I felt awful but I got into that lie so quickly, I didn’t know what to do.” I sat on ankles, sliding down the wall. I hid my face with my hands trying to avoid him to see me cry.

“I wasn’t joking, honey. You are the love of my life and I didn’t want to lose you. That scare got so real that I couldn’t face it. I’m sorry, I really am. With you everything is different, and I didn’t realize it until that. The fear of losing you got in my skin and it never left.” I didn’t feel him to come closer to me until I felt his hands in mine. As soon as I felt it, I got up and moved away from him. I knew I could fall for him quickly.

“If you have done, you should leave.” I could say walking to the fridge to pour water in glass. My throat was dry.

He looked at me for a while, then took a deep and loud breath and moved to the door.

I saw him walk to the door, to leave the apartment, to leave me. I did understand the scare of losing someone, I had lost a few people in my life, but seeing him leaving it was different, I was losing him, and everything was his fault. That didn’t feel fair.

“Why you did this to me?” The words left my mouth before I could think about it. He turned around to look at me, but I hadn’t finished “Why didn’t you break up with me if you wanted to fuck somebody else? Why were you seeing Ashley? Why did you play along with her game after the kiss?” my voice got louder at every question. I wasn’t a person who yelled easily but I couldn’t help it.

“Baby, I’m a dickhead, I screw up every relationship I’ve ever had. I don’t know why. I promised I went out with her with any side intention, when she kissed me, I felt that fear again. And at the party, I swear I didn’t invite her, I wanted to keep her away from you, I wanted to keep everything what I did away from us.”

“Yeah! That’s why you took her panties.” I said ironically. “What did you want me to do? Kicked her out of the house, making a scene?” He saw my face burning in anger and he continued. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I hate myself enough for both of us.” Said that he took his way again. I didn’t hate him. I loved him. I was needed for him.

I moved quickly to get him; I could reach him by the arm.

As soon as he turned around to look at me, I jumped on his mouth. He didn’t take any longer to embrace his arms around me, pushing my face more against his, as if that was even possible.

We walked clumsily to the nearest wall; he squeezed my butt before holding me up. His hands flew through my tights, caressing them and reached my wet panties. I moaned when I felt his fingers rubbing me. “I need you.” He whispered in my ear. His fingers went to undo his pants and I could get out of his arms.

I saw panic in his face for a couple of seconds. But it disappeared when he saw me got into my knees. I took his hard member in my hands to stroke it a few times before get it into my mouth. He rested his forehead in the wall, and shut his eyes, leaving me caged by his body.

His breathing changed when he opened his eyes and watched my mouth around the head of his sensitive cock. Clenched jaw and hands making fist, he moaned loudly as he was being relieved of great amount of pressure.

My lips wrapped around his cock, taking as much as my throat could, and my hand gripped the rest. I wasn’t thinking, I didn’t want to think. I was tired and sick of the anxiety that this situation was giving me.

I knew this wasn’t a good idea. I wasn’t proud but I wanted it.

“I love your fucking mouth.” his voice brought my back from my thoughts. I started to suck a little bit harder as he was getting bigger. His hips also started to thrust him into my mouth, making me gag at one particularly push. “Shit! Sorry!” he said, taking my face in his hands and making me get up from my knees. “I don’t want to cum in your mouth.” he responded to my unanswered question. We kissed as his hands tried to get rid of my dress, and mine were fighting with his shirt.

Just in my panties, he pickup me up and put me on the hall’s table. Sucking my nipples and rubbing my breast and ass, he ripped my panties and his dick stormed in me.

I yelled in surprise; I was actually more than ready to take him.

“I loved that ones.” I murmured pretending to be sadly for my lingerie.

“I will make it worth.” He said with smile on his face before taking my calves over his shoulders. His thrusts were deep, rough, and needed, I tired to hold on to the table, but his movements got fiercely, and I could feel my orgasm coming.

The table wasn’t meant to this kind of activities. We realized it very late.

“Holy crap!” he said when he saw the table fall, holding me better in his arms. Everything I could do was laugh. He intended to let me go but crossed my arms behind his neck.

“No! Take me to bed!” I whispered in his ear. He smiled before kissing me.

He laid down on the bed with me over him. “Ride me, baby.” he said holding me from my hips.

I started to move up and down on his cock, rolling my hips. I saw he shut his eyes, a signal he was close, so I started to ride hard on him. His fingers were marking my hips as he pushed me up and down savagely. I groaned at the almost painful pleasure.

I felt his body getting tense as he filled me up with his cum.

“God! I love you!” he yelled.

Something woke up inside me, suddenly I felt dirty and ashamed. I hid my breast with my arms as I stood up from bed. His cum dripping on my inner thigh, made me just feel worst.

He didn’t realize, he was still dazed. He took my arm when he realized that I wasn’t coming back to bed. “Come back, I’m still hard.” He muttered with his eyes closed. I let him to guide my body, he made me lay down next to him and cuddle.

“These couple days have been awful; I’ve never felt that bad.” His lips were right next to neck and made me get goosebumps.” I was so scared of not seeing you again.” He said pecking my neck. He turned my hips a little, just enough to let himself into me one more time. I was feeling guilty, I was using him. I wasn’t forgiving him, but he thought I was.

I didn’t want a confrontation; I couldn’t handle one.

His hand held my face to keep kissing my mouth, and his other one at my hip, holding me steady. “Your so good for me.” he said between kisses. His hand went from my hip to my clit. He worked himself in deeper and rubbed me just in the right way.

My body was so tensed and my brain so away from the reality that I didn’t noticed he fell sleep.

I wanted to have sex with him, I enjoyed. I shouldn’t feel bad for him, he cheated on me and lied, but I wasn’t like that.

I woke up with his snoring in my ear. I got out of his embrace needy for water, the hangover was taking my body. I saw my clothes and his’s all over the floor and the broken table. I didn’t get to do the walk of shame, it was my apartment, I was living in the shame.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” His voice resounded throughout the entire place.

“Okay! You are really thirsty” he said when I drank the water quickly. I didn’t answer, I didn’t look at him. The situation was awkward, and he noticed it.

“What’s going on?” he asked from behind. I ignored him again. “Hey! Are you okay?” he shouted and turned me over to face me.

“Yes, I’m just still drunk.” I said softly. I tired my best to look unbothered.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

“Not right now. I have things to do.” I started to pick everything up. “I think you should leave; I really have things to do.” I avoided his eyes. I get repetitive when I feel nervous. He knew it.

“Well, I think you’re acting like a child. What happened last night?” his voice wasn’t loud, but it was hard.

I just could shrug, I felt ashamed, and he was mad.

“Talk to me! Damn! Don’t shut up. You always do that. I fucked everything up, I know. But you kissed me last night, you started everything so, right now please talk! Tell me what is happening!” now he was yelling, he looked mad and kind of sad, the guilt just spread across my body.

“What you want me to say, Chris? I wasn’t thinking properly.” I said, looking how he was getting dress himself.

“So, wasn’t mean a shit for you?” I felt like our roles were reversed. Now he was angry, and I was the one giving the explanations.

“I don’t want to hurt your feelings.” I could say.

“Yes, you do, and to be honest, I understand. I deserved it, but I don’t…” he was wrong, I knew I hurt him but that wasn’t my intention, I loved him, and he knew it.

��I don’t want to hurt you. I’m not like you.” My voice wasn’t soft anymore. We were in the same level, he wanted me to feel guilty, so I was doing the same. I continued “Sorry, but I’m not going to apologize, I didn’t want to hurt you. I felt bad and I wanted to have sex with you, you could have said no, and you didn’t do it. But I didn’t say anything to make you think that I forgave you.” His eyes goy darker with my words. he stared me for a few seconds.

“I couldn’t have said no, you could have given me a glass full of worms and I would have taken it.” I felt he was playing the victim; I could stand it.

“I give you a relationship and you pissed on it.” I said crudely.

The room got in a deep silence and filled with tension and resentment.

“You were right, we shouldn’t talk right now.” He spoke after a couple minutes, he took his jacket and got ready to leave. The scare of losing him went back to my head, but I knew it was the best and this time I stood up to it.

“I don’t want to see you again.” I said when he got closer the door. He looked at me incredulous, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I’m still mad and hurt, so I’m not forgiving you soon. But that doesn’t matter because we can’t be together, I don’t trust you and my insecurity in our relationship will freak you out at some point and it will be worst, for both of us.” I didn’t want to cry but I failed, at least he was weepy too.

I thought he was going to response, but he didn’t, he left my apartment without hesitation, slamming the door.

Tag list: @breezykpop @calwitch @firoozehmoon

#Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans imagine #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #Smut #fluff #chris evans fluff #CHRIS EVANS ANGST #angst #big deal #fiction #fanfic #FIC #imagine #chris evans and reader

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angelz-dust · 4 years ago

Note

Bro cowboy!jason with some smut would be beautiful 😭

yeehaw baby - minors avert y'all eyes 🤠

(as i was writing this i realized i was writing a female reader but if you'd like a male or gender neutral reader instead let me know and i'll come with up an whole new scenario!!)

minors/ageless blogs who interact will be blocked - read rules before interacting

what's a sheriff without his hat? (jason todd x female reader)

warnings: nsfw 18+ (no condom, pulling out - wrap it up y'all). angst if you squint.

...

"sheriff!"

you kicked in the doors to the saloon, gathering the attention of some of the patrons nearby. the place smelled of smoke and sweat, which was why you tried your best to avoid the spot altogether. however, it was becoming increasingly difficult to do so with sheriff todd making it his new hangout spot. the bastard could've picked a place with a bit more circulation as far as you were concerned.

"sheriff!" you yelled again, holding your dress up as your steps increased in speed. you saw the man in his booth with deputy harper and the rest of their little posse. they felt more like thugs to you.

"he's asleep," the woman, artemis, said to you as she opened her bottle of booze on the side of the table, subsequently chipping off some of the wood. you weren't sure if it was due to the poor structural integrity or her strength. probably both.

"i don't give a damn if he's neck deep in his grave," you spat, walking up to him. his seat was leaned back, which mean he was definitely awake. no one could balance their own weight like that and be unconscious. his hat was covering his face, some smoke coming out of the sides. asleep my ass.

you ripped the hat off of his face, bellows of cigarette smoke barreling out. his eyes shot open, the white slightly red from how he was abusing them just now. how he was still breathing, you didn't know. maybe the rumors about him coming back to life and being immortal were true.

"can i help you?" he glared, making an attempt to snatch his hat back from you. you quickly pulled back, making his seat lunge forward and his chest hit the table. you heard the deputy snort at the scene. "as my companion just told you, i'm asleep."

your glared right back at him, holding his hat behind your back. "you promised to keep those hooligans away from my place of business, todd."

"did i?" he asked you, giving you a fake grin. "well, i'm sorry little lady. it musta slipped my mind."

"don't get smart with me!" you snapped at him, the entire saloon getting quiet now. everyone was suddenly very interested in your little spat. "you're supposed to be protecting us and all you do is sit on your ass. i'm surprised you ain't collecting dust already."

"someone should sew that damn mouth of yours shut. maybe then we'd get some peace and quiet around here," he said back, getting a few chuckles from his little fan club. "give me my hat back."

you stared at him as your frustrations bubbled inside of you. that's all he had to say? his lack of concern for your issue just let you know what kind of man you already knew he was. he wanted his hat back? fat chance. you silently grinned at him before turning around and starting to walk out of the saloon. screw him and his stupid hat.

"hey!" he shouted as you continued walking off. you could feel the vibrations of his movement in the floorboards. he was coming after you. "get back here!"

you sped up, running out of the saloon and back towards the bathhouse. maybe if you got him off his sorry ass he'd be more willing to hear you out. that is, if the theft of his precious little hat didn't irritate him too much. if you weren't so preoccupied with outrunning him, you'd love to see the look on his face. you made it up the few step to the front door, where he quickly caught up with you. you pressed your back against it, securing the hat in between.

the sheriff glowered down at you, his hand pressed against the doorframe above you. you stared into each other's eyes, the sounds of your panting breath sinking up with one another. as much as he agitated you to no end, he was a very handsome man. it was the only thing that had kept you from shooting him in that pretty face.

"you've had your fun," he told you with a low tone, holding his other hand out. "now give it back."

you were surprised he hadn't just tossed you around and took it for himself. back when jas- the sheriff... first came to town, he seemed like a respectable man. you didn't cross paths very often, but every encounter with him was pleasant and memorable. he was kind, sometimes even a little flirty with you. he was a little rough around the edges. all those cowboys seemed to share that trait. but it was worse when when he returned after disappearing for a long time. you barely recognized him. it seemed he had been hardened by... whatever it was he experienced while he was gone. you didn't ask, nor did you care. he and his gaggle of dirty thugs had taken control of the town and it's been this way ever since.

"you don't deserve it," you decided to say, relishing in the instant gratification that came from seeing his expression change so quickly. oh, he was angry and you loved it. "you're no sheriff. you're an outlaw. you don't care about anybody but yourself."

you felt the hot air blow out of his nose and you had to fight back the smirk that was playing at your lips. you looked down and saw his hand moving towards your waist. the hell was he trying to do? before you could move or protest, you had fallen backwards into the bathhouse, right onto the freshly cleaned floor. he looked down at you from where he stood with a smile, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. you scrambled away from him, his hat still firmly in your grip. you got yourself off the floor, ready for whatever he was going to try.

instead of making his way towards you like you assumed he would, he looked around the place, taking in his surroundings. he eventually started walking in your direction. it was menacing watching him slowly approach you with an expressionless face. he stopped at the counter, looking down at the little bell. pressing his finger on it, it rung. he waited a few seconds before ringing it a few more times, looking over at you expectantly. your gaze narrowed as you made your way behind the counter.

"yes?" you asked with gritted teeth.

"i'd like to have a bath, please."

"... i'm sorry, sir, but we've had to close early today on the account of having no sheriff to protect my girls from harassment," you explained with a sickly sweet smile. "if we had a sheriff, which we don't, then maybe my girls would feel comfortable continuing to work. but since we don't, there's nothing i can do to help you. sorry for the inconvenience."

you saw a flicker of what appeared to be remorse on his face. he looked down at the counter, his finger tracing the grooves. "you're here, aren't you?"

"you must be out of your natural mind."

"why? because i'm requesting that the bathhouse worker give me a bath?" he asked with a snarky tone.

"that you're requesting anything of me after disregarding my concerns earlier."

he pulled some money out of his pocket, slamming it on the counter. "let's discuss it over a bath."

...

this was the last thing you wanted to be doing. you stared at the back of his head as he laid in the tub of warm water. you grabbed the rag from the bucket of soapy water, ringing it out and bringing it to his chest. as much as you wanted to be rough with him, your desire to not touch him at all prompted you to just be gentle instead. you heard him let out a content sigh as you scrubbed him down.

"you wanted to talk to me, didn't you? so talk," he said, resting his chin in his hand while you worked.

"i already told you what the problem was," you reminded him, lightly pressing against his back to get him to sit up. you scrubbed his back, watching as the dirt and grime disappeared, revealing his actual skin color.

"don't present a problem without a solution. what do you want me to do?"

"kill them."

he let out a hearty laugh at your suggestion, laying back down once you finished with his back. your fingers went to his hair as you poured some water of it, massaging it into his scalp. you could've sworn you felt him leaning into your touch. "isn't killing your clientele bad for business?"

"their existence is bad for business," you told him matter of factly, leaning down to wash his stomach. "i want them gone."

"now darling," he chuckled softly, turning his head towards you. his scruff brushed against your skin, making you shiver. "you know i can't do that. try again."

you could feel your face heating up, so you pulled away, washing his arms now. you dragged the rag along his muscles, revealing all kinds of scars as you cleaned him. "give them a stern talking to."

"about what?"

"respecting my girls."

"or else what?"

"use your imagination."

he hummed with a nod as you finished up with his upper body. "i can do that."

you threw the wet rag at his face, making him flinch. he dragged down his face, plopping into the bath water. "i'm not washing you below the belt. you can see yourself out."

...

after dramatically stomping your way up to your bedroom, you changed out of your clothes and into your nightgown. being around the sheriff was exhausting and you weren't going to waste anymore time on him. your only hope was that he'd stay true to his word. as you were getting ready to retire for the night, you heard a knock at your door.

"i want my damn hat back, y/n. i'll kick the door down if i have to," you heard him say through the door. you went and grabbed it off of your dresser, putting it on your head and looking at yourself in the mirror.

"i think i'll keep it for myself, actually."

"you have five seconds to open this door."

out of frustration, he start twisting the knob. unbeknownst to him, it was never locked to begin with. he opened the door, surprise on his face as he let himself in. he looked over at you, the same expression on his face, but for a different reason now.

"take it off."

"i actually quite like it, so i don't think i will."

he must have been fed up with you at this point, because he started approaching you with purpose in his step. you stepped back some, slipping on the length of your gown and falling back on the bed. the hat had fallen off of your head, onto the floor. instead of going around to pick it up, he found himself on top of you. the two of you held eye contact, but it was different from earlier.

"why do you do these things to me?" he asked you softly. "i'm starting to think you're doing it on purpose."

"i don't like you."

"you used to like me."

that may have been true once upon a time, but it wasn't the case now. the person you used to like didn't exist anymore. he was replaced with a hollow shell of a man and you wanted nothing to do with him.

his thumb made its way to the corner of your mouth and your heart started racing. "i still like you," he said with a small frown, his fingers tracing your jaw and moving down your neck. "i think deep down you still like me."

"no," you responded without missing a beat. his hand was on your chest, feeling the shockwaves of your pulse underneath. "i don't."

"i think you do."

you wanted to badly to smack him in his face but his response was different than you expected. the snark and smugness you were expecting was replaced with a tenderness you were unfamiliar with. or, more accurately, had forgotten he was capable of conveying. he sounded honest. genuine. like he really believed what he was saying. or wanted to, at least.

that's what caused you to let your guard down and let him in. his nose rubbed against yours before he leaned down, giving you a kiss. his large hand cupped your cheek while his other one lifted you off of your back and into his lap. you parted from him and he looked at you with a little smile. "see?"

"that doesn't count," you objected, despite not moving out of your new position. you actually found yourself getting comfortable, placing your legs on both sides of his lap. you could feel his erection growing beneath you.

"sure it does," he insisted, grabbing his hat and putting it back on your head. he laid back on the bed, starting to slowly undo his belt. you didn't dare look down at what he was doing, too stubborn to give him the full satisfaction, but you didn't stop him either. you felt your own arousal becoming stronger. it was hard to ignore when you didn't have any underwear on to begin with.

you soon felt his tip rubbing against your slickness and you sucked in a gasp, getting his attention. he stopped moving, looking up at you for approval to continue. still feeling stubborn, you just looked away and felt him slip inside of you. his hands moved up your thighs and to your hips, repositioning the skirt of your gown. it allowed the two of you to reserve a bit of modesty in your compromising state.

the first movements were shallow and slow, as you were both trying to adjust. it didn't take long for you both to find a rhythm. soft pants and moans came from you as you rode him, his hips thrusting upwards so you weren't doing all the work. you had been resisting from touching him, but as he bounced you on his lap, his hand went to yours. his fingers grazed yours, sloppily laced together as he brought it towards his mouth. he planted a kiss on your palm, placing it on his heart.

shifting your weight, you pressed your hand firmly against his chest and he picked up the pace, his hips snapping up into you. your arm was starting to grow tired and he picked up on it. he sat up, pulling you into him. his face rested in the crook of your neck, his breath fanning against it while his hands slid up your back, one at the top of your spine and the other at your ribs. you continued rocking against him while his mouth made quick work of your neck, sucking at the junction between it and your shoulder.

your moans became embarrassingly loud. you were just glad no one else was around to hear them. jason kissed up the base of your neck until he met your lips, swallowing up all of your sounds. you felt his hat slipping off of your head and you both reached back to catch it, his hand on top of yours. the two of you smiled into the kiss as he readjusted it for you.

feeling your release coming up, you slipped your fingers down to your clit, teasing it to help push yourself over the edge. jason moaned against your lips as he pulled out of you, making a mess on your nightgown. you were too blinded by your own pleasure to yell at him as you continued rubbing yourself. you felt his fingers probing at your entrance, thrusting in and out until you came all over them.

"sorry about the stain," he breathed out, pulling the skirt up in an effort to keep it from touching you. his other hand worked to untie the bow in the back, making it easier for you to get it off. he grabbed his hat from off your head and used it to cover his face while you slipped out of the gown. you set it aside, pulling your blankets up to cover yourself. "are you decent?"

"yes," you answered as he lowered it, giving you a grin before putting it back on your head. your eyes peered upwards at the brim. "i thought you wanted it back."

"i'll come get it later. there are a few men i need to give a stern talking to first," he said, fixing his pants and getting up. "you'll be here when i get back, won't you?"

you raised your brow at him, chuckling. "it's not like i have somewhere else to be."

"i'll be back soon," he winked before walking over to the door. "oh, and darling?"

"...yes?"

"leave that on for me, alright?"

#jason todd x reader #askbox

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ray-ray-writings · 4 years ago

Text

Family Fatality-Awesamdude

Gn!reader x Sam x Son!Tommyinnit …. It be angsty and sad with a happy ending. Also, does not follow what actually happened in the lore!

Small note: I think this is the last fic I’m going to write in first person. I think a lot of people enjoy the use of second person more and it’s also a bit easier for me to write in second person. The only reason that this fic is written in first is because it’s a part two and I want to keep it consistent. If you have thoughts about this, feel free to message me!!

Part One: Family Matters.

Check out my masterlist here

Y/N believed it was a bad idea from the beginning. Call it parental instincts. But unfortunately no one believed them… until it was too late.

Y/N’s POV

I knew it was a bad idea.

I should have listened to my gut.

Tommy should have listened.

Sam should have listened.

We should have known better.

When Tommy told Sam and me that he wanted to visit Dream in prison, I instantly said no. That boy had been through so much trauma and manipulation because of that green wearing bastard, I didn’t want Dream to ever be able to see Tommy again.

Sam was more into it. It was less of wanting Tommy to be able to see Dream and more he wanted an opportunity to show Tommy the prison. But he was for it. Sure he knew what Dream did to Tommy and hated the blond for it, but he also understood Tommy’s desire to see him.

We told Tommy we would talk it over and let him know our decision.

I really didn’t want him to go.

Sam talked me into it.

That night after we put Tommy and Stella to sleep and crawled into our own bed, Sam began to explain his side further. He told me about how it might be nice for Tommy to get some closure. To be able to see Dream completely trapped in prison with no way out. It may help stop the nightmares.

That’s what convinced me in the end.

As much as Tommy would try to tell us he was fine, his dreams told us otherwise. More often than not, we’d wake in the morning to find Tommy had crawled in bed between us or that he would be sitting in the rocking chair in Stella’s room. He never told us exactly what would happen, but we could tell.

I just wanted them to stop. I wanted my boy to be able to feel safe in this house. And if that was the only way to have it happen… I had to let it happen.

Tommy was thrilled with our verdict. Threw his arms around us in a huge hug and kissed our cheeks. I did my best to put on a happy front, but it was difficult. Sam could tell. Tommy could tell. Heck, I’m sure that even baby Stella could tell.

I was wrapped in another hug by Tommy and was pulled close to his chest while he buried his face in my hair.

“I’ll be alright baba… I promise.”

Liar.

My stomach was in knots the day he went to the prison. I woke up with enough time to see them off. I gave both of them extremely tight hugs, forcing them to promise me they would be safe before sending them off, telling them to be back in time for dinner.

I watched the two walk toward the horizon and stood there watching long after they disappeared from view. The thing that snapped me from my swell of anxiety and nerves was the sound of Stella crying.

I immediately jumped into action, closing the door and rushing toward her room. I carefully got her out of her crib and began our usual morning routine. “They’re going to be fine baby,” I cooed as I changed her, “They’re going to be just fine.”

I knew she couldn’t understand me. I knew I was saying that more to try and convince myself of that. Thinking if I said it out loud it would make it true… it wasn’t true.

The whole day I could help but worry. I tried to focus on Stella, on taking care of her, playing with her, making sure she was okay, but I found my thoughts drifting back to Tommy and Sam and the visit. I couldn’t help but wonder how it was going, if the two were safe.

The pit in my stomach deepened when our usual dinner time rolled around and there was no sign of the boys. I tried to contact one of them via communicator, but no response. I wasn’t surprised. The prison was so heavy laced with obsidian it was nearly impossible to get a signal in there. I watched with a heavy heart and a knotted stomach as the sun sunk lower and lower into the sky and still, no boys. Stella’s bedtime came and I was forced to put her down alone, Sam and Tommy still nowhere to be found.

I tried to remain calm. I sat on the couch and stared at the TV as a movie played. After a while, I realized my knee was bouncing like crazy and that I was halfway through the film but I had no idea what the hell was happening. I reached over and quickly shut off the TV. The black screen reflected the scene behind me, letting me see what was behind me.

I immediately jumped at the sight of my husband standing in the doorway behind me. My hand flew to my chest as my head whipped around to look at him. “Sam!” I exclaimed a bit breathless, using my free hand to push myself up from the couch to completely turn to him. “You scared me! I didn’t hear you come in!”

Sam didn’t say anything. He only stared at me. That confused me. He usually rushes right for me, shouting hello, and wraps me in a hug and kisses me sweetly… Why is he just staring at me blankly? “Sam?” I questioned, taking a few steps forward toward him. He still didn’t move. Sam just stared. As I grew closer, I could see that his eyes were rimmed red and the usual light that filled his eyes was completely gone. It was really freaking me out. “What’s wrong?”

It was then I noticed that he had entered alone. Tommy hadn’t come in with him. That sent a fury of butterflies to stir in my stomach. “Sam? Where’s Tommy?”

That was the question that broke the dam.

I watched as Sam’s bottom lip began to quiver and a hushed sobbed echoed throughout the room. “I’m sorry,” Sam whimpered out, another sob escaping him. “I’m so sorry.”

Sam’s legs seemed to give out from under him, causing me to rush forward as my husband fell to his knees. I sunk down to my knees and quickly cupped his face, gently tilting his head to look at me.

Sobs were still falling from his lips as his eyes met mine. I rose my eyebrows at him, not wanting to rush him but still wanting to know what the hell was going on. I didn’t have to wait long for his gut wrenching words.

“You were right.”

It instantly clicked. I was right. That’s why Tommy wasn’t here. I was right. I was right to not want him to go. To not want him to see Dream. Something happened. Something bad happened. I was right.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t stop him. I was too far. I failed him. I failed to protect him. I failed our son. He’s dead and it’s all my fault.”

Time seemed to stop at Sam’s words. Sam kept babbling words out through his sobs, but I became unable to hear him any longer. A loud ringing filled my ears and I watched as my own vision blurred.

He’s….

He’s dead….

Tommy…

Tommy is dead.

Dream… Dream killed him.

A gut wrenching sob ripped itself from your throat as you fully registered what your husband was telling you. Sam’s arms instantly reach out and wrap around you tightly, bringing you into his chest. Your hands fall from his cheeks onto his chest as you clutch his shirt, burying your face in him as you sob.

You’re not sure how long you’re there, kneeling on the floor sobbing. Slowly, and I mean slowly, but surely, your sobs die down until the only noise filling the room are soft sniffles.

“I was right,” you manage to croak out, pulling yourself away from your creeper hybrid husband to look up at him.

“You were right,” Sam echos, moving one of his hands to cup your cheek and tilting his head down to rest his forehead on yours.

You let out a watery laugh as you close your eyes tightly and relish in the gentle contact.

“God. I have never wanted to be wrong more in my entire life… I wish I wasn’t right.”

The next few days passed slowly. The sky seemed to be constantly dark and everything seemed gloomy. Even Stella was more somber, as if she could tell something was wrong. And she probably could. She had gone from spending almost every second with her older brother to not seeing him for days on end in the blink of an eye.

Sam still had to work. He had to force himself to go back to that damned prison with that bastard and listen to his taunting laughter through the cameras as he mocks the Warden’s pain. It takes everything in Sam to hold back and not barge into the cell and kill Dream himself. He knew that wouldn’t bring back Tommy and wouldn’t make him feel better, but even still.

The house seemed so quiet. Even with Stella babbling and cooing, the rooms had never felt more quiet and empty. I found myself searching for Tommy’s voice, his laughter, his whole presence everyday only to be disappointed when my search came up empty. I tried to play some of his favorite music discs, but tears would fill my eyes as I realized I would never hear him sing along to them and the silence that would have usually been filled by him babbling about the disc was too deafening for me to want to listen to them again.

The worst part, I found, was when Sam would get home. I was always happy to have my husband back. Always more than willing to hug and kiss him in a greeting. A welcome home. But everyday, I’d try to turn to greet Tommy two. I would be waiting for two blonds to appear in my home, even though I knew only one would be home. My heart would break over and over as I searched for the boy that I knew wouldn’t be there.

I let out a sigh as I finished up the last dish I had prepared for dinner. Sam should be home from work any minute now. I set the table, thr-- two places and the food in the middle, Stella in her high chair. Now all there was to do was wait for Sam.

As I finished up, I heard the front door open. “Honey! I’m home!” Sam’s voice called out. A soft smile placed itself on my lips as I turned around and made my way to the front door.

“Hey honey welcome--” The sentence died on my lips as my eyes met what was at my front door. My husband had not come home alone. Instead of the one blond that I had seen come home day after day, had been joined by another blond.

A familiar blond.

The blond I had spent the last several days missing and mourning.

Tommy.

“Tommy?” My voice croaked as my eyes met his icy blue ones.

Tears formed in the corner of his eyes as he gave me a soft smile, “Hi baba.”

A sob let my lips as I raced forward and wrapped my arms around the middle of the boy I call my son. His arms immediately wrapped around me as he pulled me tightly to him. His face turned down and buried in my hair as I nuzzled into his chest. My fingers clutched at his shirt that rested on his back, trying to prove to myself that he was here. That Tommy was back and actually here. Here in the flesh.

“How--How did you? Why are you? What the?” I babbled out, tilting my head up to try and look at him.

“We can talk about it later… For now I’d just like my parents to hold me.”

Another sob escaped my lips as I moved my head back to its original position. Sam’s strong arms wrapped around the two of us, pulling us close to him. Our little family was back together again. How? I don’t know. But I didn’t care. Tommy was back.

The sound of Tommy’s stomach rumbling broke up from the sweet moment. I let out a small laugh as I carefully pulled away from the hug. I let my hand come up and cup the boy’s cheek. “How about you go sit at the table? I’ll get another plate.”

He gave me a quick nod, leaning down and kissing my cheek before making his way to the table.

“STELLA!! I MISSED YOU!”

I laughed again and turned to my husband, giving him a smile. “He’s back?” I whispered the question, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“He’s back.” Sam confirmed, placing his hands on my hips, pulling me close to him. He then leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, one I instantly returned. The kiss said it all. Tommy was back. Our family was back. We were whole once again. And I’m going to make sure that it stays that way.

That sucked. I’m sorry. But if you did enjoy, be sure to leave a like and maybe a reblog and comment telling me what you liked about it. Until next time!

#mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt one shot #awesamdude x reader #awesamdude imagine #awesamdude one shot #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit imagine #tommyinnit one shot #son!tommyinnit #family fatal #ray-ray-writings #requested #dreamsmp x reader #dreamsmp #dreamsmp one shot #dreamsmp imagine

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