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reysdriver · 3 months

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Sleepover | R.B.

You and your family finish off a tiring day with a makeshift sleepover — dad!regulus x mom!reader

warnings: mentions of death (a kid's pet goldfish dies), nightmares, just general parental exhaustion i guess

words: 1.6k

a/n: I've been working on this fic on and off for like a month lmao, but this is my comeback to writing so boom

It’s been a long day. Ascella has been fussy all week, Aurora’s pet goldfish died, so you had to have that talk with her and Perseus plus a fish funeral, and then later, Aurora fell while playing outside and scraped her leg up pretty badly.

And on top of all of that, the Ministry of Magic needed Regulus to work late tonight.

So, that long day got even longer since it was just you taking care of the kids.

By 7 o’clock in the evening, the two older kids kept asking you where their dad was, and all you could tell them was that they would have to wait and see while bouncing Ascella on your leg to quell her tantrum.

Aurora and Perseus eventually listened to you and ditched asking you questions you didn’t know how to answer for a hand-clapping game they had made up the other day, but that was also dropped the second they heard the front door unlocking.

The kids rushed to the door and pounced on Regulus, each choosing one of his sides to hug tightly.

Your husband laughed. Not at the children, but at how he hadn’t even gotten the chance to take his shoes off before they latched onto him.

“Daddy!” They squealed, arms wrapped around his thighs and their faces squished against his waist. “It feels like you’ve been gone a hundred years!”

“A hundred years?!” Regulus parroted sarcastically. “Well, you all look wonderful for your old age!”

They laughed at their dad and let go of his legs. “You look exactly your age!”

Regulus does an exaggerated gasp. “Well, sounds like no dessert for you two for the rest of the week! And get me your mom and your sister who isn’t mean to me.”

The children looked at each other frantically, not realising Regulus had been joking about the dessert. Perseus speaks up for the both of them. “We’re sorry, Daddy! You don’t look a hundred years old, we promise!”

“Alright, I forgive you. Just get your mom and your sister so I can tell them I changed my mind about the dessert.”

Eager to earn their after-dinner sweets back, your two oldest kids run back to you in almost perfect lockstep.

“Daddy’s here!”

“Oh, is that who was at the door?” You feigned surprise, standing up with Ascella. “Come on, honey. Let’s go see Daddy, huh?”

When Regulus saw you and your baby girl walking his way, his lingering smile doubled in size. He hung his jacket up on the coat rack and held out his arms so he could get more hugs from the two of you.

Ascella’s frown disappears to morph into an expression that matches her father’s. She babbled and squirmed in your arms until you were able to pass her over to Regulus.

He pressed a couple of kisses to his daughter’s soft hair, which only made her more excited than she was when she saw her dad for the first time of the day.

Regulus brought his attention off of Ascella and onto you while you watched the two of them laugh and play. You didn’t think you were letting the events of today show on your face, but Regulus seemed to pick them up immediately.

“What’s wrong?” He asked softly.

You shook your head. “Nothing. I’m just happy you’re back home.”

Regulus understood what you meant and didn’t press. He just went back to teasing your youngest daughter. “Did you three make it a long day for Mummy? Huh? Did you give her a hard time today?”

Ascella just kept laughing as he tickled her sides and kissed her cheeks.

◆◇◆◇◆

Insistent that she would have trouble sleeping in her room without her fish, Aurora begged to stay with you and Regulus for the night.

You wanted to say no. You’ve been putting Ascella to sleep in the bassinet beside your bed while she’s been sick because she keeps waking up in the middle of the night in a fit of cries and screams. If Aurora slept in your bed, she would have to deal with that as well. Regulus said that it would be fine, so Aurora gladly hopped into your bed, dragging her stuffed rabbit behind her.

While she still wanted to chat before bed like you expected, when you reminded her to whisper because Ascella was asleep near you, she quieted down quickly and fell asleep soon after she stopped talking.

After that, Regulus joined you in bed. Aurora had taken up a fraction of both your side and Regulus’ of the bed, but she had mainly been sprawled across your husband’s half, so he just pushed her over enough for him to lie down.

Now you and Regulus laid across from each other, one little girl lying between you. You smiled sympathetically at the fact that you couldn’t hold each other like you usually would because of Aurora, and Regulus made the same face back.

“I’m sorry I had to work late.” He said quietly. “I know it wasn’t an easy day today. I know me having to stay later than usual didn’t help.” Since coming home, he had heard all the stories about today’s happenings, and he felt worse and worse with every one.

“It’s okay.” You reassured him. “These kids may be a handful, but there’s nothing about them that’s too much for me.”

“Well, I’ll still try to avoid working late from now on. You never know what a day is going to be like with them.”

“All I care about is that you’re here now.”

“Yeah, I am pretty great company to have.”

You could tell by his little grin that he was expecting you to laugh and argue with him, but he didn’t say anything you could push back against. Instead of fighting him on it, you just put out your hand for him to take in his.

“You are.” You told him sincerely. “For me and for the kids. And everyone else, too.”

He brought your hand up to his lips and pressed a sweet kiss to your palm. You smiled but held back a giggle, careful not to wake either of your daughters who were sleeping in your room tonight.

Regulus kept his mouth on your skin, moving his kisses further along. It started with your palm, then he trailed over to the ball of your hand, your wrist, your forearm. You tried silently shuffling closer to him so he could reach more of you, but he detached himself from you when you heard a soft knock at your bedroom door.

“Come in, honey.” You called quietly.

The bedroom door opened, and you could hear Perseus sniffling as he made his way across the room. You and Regulus both sat up, concerned for your son, and you held out your arms. Perseus accepted your invite and hugged you tightly, wiping his tears on your shoulder.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You asked, not letting go of your son.

“I had a bad dream. I got scared.”

“Are you still feeling scared?”

He nodded, unlatching his arms from the hug. “A little.”

Regulus spoke up from beside you, still keeping his voice to a low hush. “Do you want to sleep here?”

Again, Perseus nodded, then he crawled onto your lap. You lifted up the covers so he could lay down beside you.

Your husband reached over and tousled your son’s hair lovingly. “We’ll keep you safe here.”

You enveloped Perseus in your arms and kissed the crown of his head while rubbing circles on his back. “Do you want to talk about your bad dream?”

He sniffled into your neck and shook his head. That was okay. You weren’t going to force him to talk and upset himself even more. It was good that he was enjoying your company and feeling safe in your arms.

“That’s alright.” Regulus told him. “We can just all cuddle and enjoy this little sleepover here tonight. How does that sound?”

Perseus lifted his head up to look at Regulus and attempted to muster up a smile and a nod. “That sounds good, Dad.”

You smiled, happy that Perseus was already feeling better than before. “Yeah, we’re all gonna have a nice sleepover, and then we’re gonna have a great day tomorrow?”

Today wasn’t a great day, but you would do anything in your power to make sure tonight was good and tomorrow would be even better.

Perseus nodded sleepily once more at your proposal. “That sounds good too, Mum.”

You started rubbing his back once more to help him calm down and fall asleep faster. It seemed to be working as his breathing became more steady and his heartbeat was going back to normal.

“Goodnight, honey.” You told Perseus, even though you were sure he was too tired to hear you.

You looked up at Regulus, who was watching you lovingly from the other side of the bed. You were certain that if your bedroom wasn’t full of your sleeping children, you would have lunged across the bed for him the second you saw him gazing over at you.

“We should go to sleep too.” Regulus broke the silence. “Don’t want to risk waking them if we stay up and talk.”

You shot your husband a sweet grin. “You’re right, as always. Plus, the faster we get to sleep, the closer we get to the great day we’re gonna have tomorrow.”

#regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x fem!reader #regulus black imagine #regulus black fanfiction #regulus black angst #regulus black fluff #dad!regulus #dad!regulus black #dad!regulus x mom!reader #dad!marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders angst #marauders fluff

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writers-hes · 10 months

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Eye of the Storm

SERIES SUMMARY: You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn't realize that war could change you both. (angst, depictions of abuse, poverty, prostitution, canon-typical themes, death, war, time jumps)

Chapter summary: Everything unfolds and you were the eye of the storm.

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3

PROTECTION SERIES TAGLIST | PROTECTION MASTERLIST navigation

LONDON, 1919

Something clicked in Simon after Johnny’s funeral. He restricted you more than he did before. He was more forceful sometimes. You knew, because you braced yourself to face it everyday. 1…2…3…4…5… You had to count to ten every time he got mad. How many seconds will it take for him to lay his hand on you again?

“From now on, you can’t come to the garden without asking for my permission.” When he saw your mouth open to protest, he added, “Don’t push it. You’re lucky I’m still allowing you to go.”

“O-of course, Simon,” you tearfully obliged. “I— “

“Tell me you love me.”

“I love you.”

“Good. Now, come here, darling. You know I can’t stand when you’re mad at me,” he coos and you oblige, finding yourself perched on his lap. You hated this; hated how he was treating you. Hated how his arms immediately wrapped around you. “I know that you’re mad at me,” he starts. “Especially with everything that’s been going on but I’m only worried that Tommy Shelby’s gonna take you.”

“He’s not…you don’t have to worry about him, Simon,” you whispered. “I didn’t know that he was alive,”

“I know, I know,” he said. “But do you know where that puts me? You’ve been his friend since before the war and I’m not anything like him. It’s not you I don’t trust…it’s him. He’s a Birmingham rat with no respect. I want you safe. I want you here. If you behave yourself, then I’d slowly give you everything back. Hm?” he asked.

You nodded, the small smile on your face could never convey how cold you felt.

Simon knows that what he’s doing is wrong but what else can be done? Tommy Shelby was back and there was no way he’s giving you up to some Birmingham gangster. It was just impossible to do so. It would hurt him and his ego. He’s never been declined of something before as an only child of two rich parents. If he’d be declined of your love and affection, he will burn the world and everything in it. You were the only thing he truly wanted and if it came to you, he’d do everything to never let you out of his grasp.

When he first seeked you out, you were eighteen. He was already enamoured, watching you from afar. You laughed with the girls and stayed with Big Johnny most nights. You were innocent, a fragile little thing that he wanted—needed. You listened to him and even treated him as a friend. It was different from how the girls treated him there. The girls would ask for gifts, and he bought them but you…you dressed up immediately after every visit. You’d smile at him before leaving, going to Johnny for your nightly lessons. He sometimes went to visit you just to talk. You were the most intelligent girl there and he always looked forward to seeing you again. If you slip away from his grasp, he wouldn’t know what to do. It’s why he bought you that house; why he gave you jewellery even before you were married. He wanted you to be reminded of him everywhere you went. It was dangerous dealing with your past—he knew that; but danger was something he’d walk on if it came to having you.

“Darling, I was thinking…it’s been a while since we last went on a holiday. Do you want to go somewhere?” he asked. Reports of Tommy Shelby in London reached him. There was no way he’d let you meet again.

“Hm,” you hummed. “Can we go to New York?” you asked. “I’ve been wanting to go to Manhattan this time of year.”

“Yeah?” he asked. The farther you were from Tommy, the better. “Then, I’ll have things arranged and I’ll let you know, okay?” he kisses your temple as he passes by.

“Of course,” you replied. Your face seems so unreadable these days, but it always was. Can Tommy Shelby decipher the emotions written on your face or does he have to guess too? He knows that you were still keeping things away from him…knows that you’re not being fully honest with how you feel and who Tommy Shelby was in your life. He was fine not knowing as long as you were his.

Irrevocably and utterly his.

BIRMINGHAM, 1910

“You know, Tommy,” you said. “When I was young, my mother told me that there were other lands outside England…outside Birmingham that isn’t London,” you said. Your savings could take you to London, but you could never seem to find the time. Simon has been visiting you more and the owner of the brothel ordered you to always be available for him because of how much he spends on you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I want to go to London at least once. Before I die, I want to go to London,”

“I’ll take you to London,” he says, voice gruff from the cigarettes. “I’ll take you to London and I’ll take you to the whole world,”

“You will?” you asked. You were always told by your customers that they’ll take you here and there…but with Tommy, you knew that what he was saying was true. He never liked to break his promises. “If you’ll take me there, I better save up money because there’s no way I’m letting you spend a fortune on me.”

“I’ll take you to New York, Paris, and all the major cities. We’ll see them for the first time together,” he promises.

“Together?”

“We’ll always be together, won’t we?”

“Of course, we will. Together,”

BIRMINGHAM, 1919

Grace has long been gone since Polly revealed the truth to her. Was it mad that Tommy didn’t feel any morsel of anything? He didn’t care if she betrayed him; didn’t care if she loved him…if anything, she was better off gone. It just…unsettled him. Was that the right word? He never liked Grace, but she was a good enough replacement for you in the meantime. She was good enough, but she wasn’t you, no matter how much Tommy forced himself to convince everyone that she was good enough.

He didn’t even think of lighting a cigarette for her departure. These guns, Billy Kimber…his ambitions of wealth, power, and control were too consuming for him to think of anything else. Too consuming that he knew that all ambition all boiled down to you, that mansion, horses, and a garden. He looks at the toy horses you’ve given him as children. It’s been showing signs of wear; time has the power to tear the edges of something precious so easily. Tommy liked thumbing the wooden toy to keep him afloat sometimes. It reminded him of peace, of home, of you.

“Tommy,” Polly called. Her conscience has been nagging her, steaming out of pores ever since Tommy showed her how much you meant to him. It was never easy remembering Tommy on the floor, so weak; so defeated. It was never easy to remember that she was the reason why Tommy was miserable. She took you away from him. She decided then, that she’d do everything in her power to help her grieving nephew. If your presence could show her any semblance of Tommy before the war, she’d take it. Maybe she should feel bad for burdening you with that weight on your shoulders, but she knew that you did it so naturally…so genuinely. She relieves herself of thinking that you and Tommy needed each other; so much so that the world she knows now will simply reintegrate. You were the glue that binds Tommy; the melted gold that holds the pieces back together. Without you, Tommy was broken—alone. She’d never want that for him. She’ll never want to see him like that again.

NEW YORK, 1920

When you told Simon that you wanted to go to New York, you didn’t know that you’ll be staying there indefinitely. You just said that to appease him, really. He made sure that all of your belongings were kept and taken to America. What didn’t fit, you’d buy. He was more lenient here. He’d let you go, and he was back to the Simon you’ve always known.

“You’ve been married for years,” his attorney’s wife recalls. “Where are the little Simons running around?”

“Oh-“ you looked at Simon to help you out, but he was too engrossed in his conversation with the lawyer to notice. “We’re still enjoying our marriage. Just the two of us,” you lied. “We like to travel and we’ll feel bad if we just…leave the child back home,”

“But you’re in New York,” she says, like it mattered. “Surely, you’ve been trying?”

“No, not really. Simon wants our child to be born in England.” you said.

“You’re not getting any younger, dear,” she says. “When I was around your age, I already had two children. I say, it’s better to start a family early,”

That night, when you were removing your jewellery, Simon laid his hand on your shoulder. He’s gentle in New York. Your shoulder used to feel heavy in London. He started kissing your neck and you allowed him.

“An heir wouldn’t be so bad,” he rasps, nibbling on your ear. “Maybe soon…I want to have you all to myself first. Don’t want you to love me any less because of a child,”

“I wouldn’t love you any less, Simon.” you smiled at him. You didn’t want to bear his heir but if he was convinced that you’ll love him less because of a child, you’ll string him along.

“I know but then, you’d dote on him and be all…” he drones on, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“It’s alright, I don’t need anyone else. It can just be the two of us forever.”

BIRMINGHAM, 1911

“Tommy!” you called, walking through the muddy soil of the stables that he worked in. He took care of horses sometimes, to earn some extra money. It paid well and he was surrounded with the calmness of the horses that he took care of. He vowed to have his own stables filled with his own horses in the future. Maybe it was pathetic but Tommy was envious seeing things that he wanted being taken advantage of. He knew how to take care of horses but he never owned them. His dreams were so close yet so far. He was brushing the coat of one of the horses when you came barrelling towards him.

“Tommy!” you called again. “I’m free now. Let’s go!”

“Wait, wait,” he laughs, making sure that the horse—he secretly named him Hayday because the horse had a coat in the color of hay. He only told you that though. “Alright, Hayday. Let’s get you back to your stable,” he tells the horse, petting its snout. You smiled at his softness, following them quietly. You let Tommy do his job maintaining Hayday for a while, smiling widely when you saw him coming towards you. He was rubbing his face with water to get rid of today.

“I smell.” he frowned, looking through his ragged satchel for a towel or an extra shirt. “Let me just…” he says, taking the shirt from the bag and then giving the bag to you. He turns around to remove his dirty shirt, tucking it between his legs and then changing into the cleaner shirt. You watched the way his back muscles flexed—working as a mechanic and carrying whatever he does was paying off. The clean shirt clung onto his figure nicely…you looked away before he could catch you staring though. “Thanks for keeping my bag,” he says, taking his bag from you. He hangs it on his shoulder and then links his arm with yours. You couldn't see the smirk that played in his lips. “Where are we going again?”

“Remember, I told you to come with me to the market to buy something?” you asked him. He nods, letting you lead the way to the market. “Well, I’m free now. Let’s go.”

Tommy tells you all about his day on the way to the market, not knowing anything of what you had planned. It was his birthday last month, but you weren’t able to save up enough money for his gift because of a repair in your home. You drag him all the way to where the more expensive shops were, Tommy’s brows furrowing.

“Here,” you said, stopping at a jeweller. You take him inside and he lets you.

“What are we doing here— “

“Look!” you said, pointing at the gold signet ring on display. You leave Tommy to go get the clerk. You’ve been paying for the ring for a year now; little by little until you were able to fully pay for it. It was a gift for Tommy’s 21st birthday. You were talking to the clerk for a pick up when Tommy walks to you. The clerk gives you the red velvet box and you turn to Tommy, a wide smile on your face.

“Who is this for?” he asked, frowning. Was this for that Rich Bastard? “You know I can’t afford that,”

“But I can. It’s for you,” you told him softly. “Happy birthday. I’m sorry it was a month late,” You open the box for him. “Go on, wear it.”

“Y/N…love,”

“You have to accept it. I saved up for that, you know?” He takes the ring from the box and slides it on his ring finger.

“Thank you…” he rasps, his throat closing up. “For this.”

“It’s okay, Tommy. I’d give you the world if I can but for now, a ring would suffice, don’t you think?”

You both settled at an empty grassland by the docks afterwards. Tommy couldn’t stop looking at his ring.

“I still can’t believe you got me a ring,” he says, looking at you. “It must have cost you a fortune, eh?”

“It’s okay, Tommy. I want to give you something more for being a great friend to me.” you tell him. He nods at your words. Friends. Is that all he’ll ever be?

“I got you this,” he says, showing you the simple, lone daisy that he picked on the way here. “I…” he says, tucking it behind your ear. I wish I could give you more. You stopped breathing, the proximity was too much to bear. You could see the blueness of his eyes, the freckles that kissed his nose and his cheeks. You could see every eyelash. It seemed like he didn’t mind it either. He was looking at you intently, trying to memorize every detail of your face. A face that could start a war, he was almost positive of it. You both unintentionally lean into each other, Tommy’s eyes flicking down to your lips, breath hitching.

“Tommy!” you jump away from each other, looking away. Fuck. He sighs in annoyance, looking at one of the guys he knew from work.

Maybe next time.

CAMDEN TOWN, 1921

“Put him down, Ollie!” he shouts. “Put him down, mate. He is only little.”

“You on your own?” He asked Tommy.

Tommy glances around.

“Seems so,”

Alfie Solomons always liked to play the best games. He had wide shoulders that matched how dominant and domineering he seemed. He was unpredictable, abandoning all sorts of things just to make sure that in the end, he gets the best deal. Tommy wondered what kind of deal he could put up with the Jewish gangster to double cross Simon Coventry, his biggest payer.

“Well, you’re a brave lad, ain't you?” he asked. “Want to take a look around my bakery? We bake all sorts here, mate, yeah. Did you know we bake over 10,000 loaves a week? Can you believe it?”

Tommy listens to him drone on about bread. He asked for brown bread and was served one.

“Come look,” Alfie says, leading Tommy to his office.

“Well, I’ve heard very bad, bad things about you Birmingham people. You’re gipsies, right? So what, do you live in a fucking tent or a caravan?”

“I came here to discuss business with you, Mr. Solomons.” Tommy coughs.

“Well, rum is for fun and fucking. So, whiskey, now that is for business,” he says, putting his bottle of whiskey for Tommy Shelby.

“Let’s talk first, eh?”

“Suit yourself,” Alfie shrugs.

“Heard you were dealing with billionaires,” Tommy brought up, trying to gauge the situation. He was sitting right in front of Alfie’s desk, noticing the latter reach for the drawer in his right.

“You heard correct. What about it?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Simon Coventry.” Tommy said. “He pays well?”

“Very well, mate.” Alfie replied, sipping on his whiskey. “Seeked for our protection services, invested…paid to kill for him. Has a wife, you know? Have you heard about her?”

“No,” Tommy shrugged, his voice monotonous, eyes bored. Alfie licks his lips.

“Never met her…lovely wife, they say, yeah. A very lovely wife…but this lovely wife of his needs to be guarded. Don’t believe in all that…I don’t do that to women, but this lovely wife of his is…huh, well, told me to kill anyone who comes near her, yeah? And guess what, mate? You’ve a big fucking bounty written on your fucking forehead,” Alfie revealed. “Now,” he pauses, leaning on the table. “What is this business you’re looking for?”

“We join forces,”

“Fuck off. No! Categorical. Fucking ridiculous,” he leans back, scoffing. Tommy leans forward, clasping his hand over the table.

“Mr. Solomons. Your distillery provides one-tenth of your income. Protection is another ten percent and the rest; you make from the tracks.”

Alfie fumbles with the handle but Tommy speaks.

“I know you keep a gun in the drawer beside the whiskey. I know you offer a deal or death. I know what I’m saying makes you angry but I’m offering you a deal. People don’t trust your protection anymore. What makes you think that Simon Coventry will continue to trust you?” he asked.

“Well, you shot Billy Kimber, right? You did, you fucking shot him. That’s you. You fucking betrayed him, mate. So, it’ll be appropriate to do what I’m thinking in my head to you right now.”

“I can offer you a hundred good men all with weapons and a new relationship with the police.”

“Intelligence,” Alfie says. “Intelligence is a very valuable thing, ain’t it, my friend? And usually…it comes far too fucking late,” he reaches for the drawer on his left, pointing the gun at Tommy. He cocks the gun and Tommy sits there, unblinking. “Let’s say I shot you already, right? In the fucking face. And then the bullet goes bone, mush, bone, cabinet over there. Which is a shame.”

Tommy just sits there, his face devoid of any emotion. If he gets killed now, he doesn't care. He had no fear of death anymore.

“It’s fucking simple, mate,”

Blood trails down from Tommy’s nose and Alfie talks about some fucking cabinet behind him. He throws Tommy his handkerchief, but he doesn’t take it. Fucking cabinets and fucking asking him if Tommy wanted to go to Timbuktu.

“I’m sorry, go on,” Alfie concedes after telling Tommy that he always thought he’d have a big gold ring on his finger. It was only a small signet ring that Tommy was unconsciously playing with under the table. “Tell us your plan.”

NEW YORK, 1921

“I just got off the phone with the secretary. We’re invited to some Charity Gala in London that we have to go to,” Simon says. Simon says…seems like all you do is follow what Simon says. “You can stay here if you don’t want to go.”

“When is this?”

“In a week mostly,” he shrugged. “It would be great to have you there. It’s not grand or anything; it’s just a few of my partners having an event for some charity or foundation.”

“Oh,” you nodded. You wanted to be away from Simon, but you also wanted to go back to London. How were the Shelbys? How was Beth? “Yeah…yeah, I’ll go,”

“Perfect,” he says. “Your dress? You need a new one. I’ll arrange a trip for you with my assistant to help you look for what to wear. You have to be the most beautiful woman there. For reference, I prefer blue on you.”

“Okay, Simon. I’ll make sure to get a blue dress for you.” He smiles at you before turning the page on his newspaper. You were glad that things were back to how they were before Tommy arrived in Birmingham. You didn’t blame him—Tommy—Simon’s actions were your own fault. Who in the right mind would let their wife love another man? It’s not like Simon knew of your love but the fact that you hid who Tommy was from him still remains. Letting go of Tommy that night was…painful.

You couldn’t erase how crest-fallen he looked; that you were the cause for his anguish. He didn’t follow you; you told him not to. You didn’t want him to see you sit outside the Garrison with your head buried in your hands. You didn’t want him to see you howl in pain because you’ll never see him again. You didn’t want him to see how it hurt you to say goodbye to him.

You didn’t want him to see you but someone else did.

BIRMINGHAM, 1919

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

You looked up from your cowering position, eyelashes clumped.

“What are you doing here?”

“I just…I just left your brother,” you whispered, trying to even out the sob that threatens to get out of your body. Arthur frowns, crouching down in front of you. He tries to remove your shaky hands only to be met with your bruising jaw.

“Did Tommy— “

“No,” you shook your head. “He didn’t hit me.”

He nods. Arthur didn’t know who Tommy was these days. He’s closed off, aloof, cold, detached…he sometimes wonders if a time comes and he’ll just snap. Arthur’s coping mechanism was violence. He knows that he’s good…his hands or only bloody but Tommy…Tommy wasn’t good anymore. He felt conflicted; everyone seems to put all the burden on you to make Tommy come back…to make him good again. He heard Polly talk about it; how Tommy needed you…but if Tommy was the reason why you’re miserable, is he still worth coming back to?

“I told Tommy to never see me again,” you managed through your cries. “I feel…I feel so lost, Arthur. I didn’t want to do that—to say that to him when-when he’s here now but I have no other choice…he’ll get-he’ll—“

“What about you?” he asked, tracing big circles on your back.

“What do you mean?” you asked, hiccuping.

“I mean…you talk about Tommy and-and making sure that we’re all doing great but what about you, eh?” There was a small frown on his face, it was so different from the ‘Mad Dog’ that people know him as.

“I don’t need that,” you chuckled. “I’m married to-to—“

“Simon Coventry, I know. But who do you have other than him? I know you love Tommy—don’t even fucking deny it. It’s why you’re doing all these things, I know but Tommy has us; he has Birmingham, and you don’t,” he adds, tearing your heart into pieces. The realisation of isolation dawns on you and it is wicked; consuming your heart with grief because you had no one. Not Tommy. Not anymore. “You make sure that all of us are being taken care of…but no one’s taking care of you. This whole thing-this thing with Tommy, is it worth it if you can’t even come home to Simon because you’re fucking crying in front of The Garrison?”

“I don’t know what to do,” you shrugged. “I…I just can’t seem to stay away from you lot,”

“Oh, love,” he sighs. He’ll never tell anyone that he saw you crying in front of the Garrison. “Why did you marry him?”

“Because…I wasn’t sure if Tommy’s coming back,” you whispered softly. You wiped away the tears from your face, trying to regain composure. “I sent…sent letters but he never wrote back. When Simon proposed the idea of marriage and Tommy wasn’t-wasn’t writing to me, I just took the chance. It was a chance to get out of that fucking hellhole. Tommy hates me for it,” you whimpered. “I know he hates me for it because I always told him that I’ll wait but-but he didn’t write back. I didn’t wait for him.”

Arthur frowns, confused.

“He wrote to you but you never wrote to him,” he said.

“What?”

“He did, love. Wrote to you multiple times and-and he’d always be the first one to show up when there were letters from home. Always-always looking for your letter,” he reminisces. Deep in your heart, you knew that he was telling you the truth because there was some sort of empty longing that crossed his eyes. “He waited for your letters every day for four years.”

“Arthur…”

“I’m telling you the truth,” he says, looking at you more intently. “None of us knew you got married,” he added.

“Arthur—“ You were heaving, this changes things. Your resentment towards Tommy was all in vain if he sent you letters but where were those letters? Where could they be? Seeing you in distress, Arthur flings his arm around your shoulder. “I hated him for it…I hated him for four years…” you weeped. “Arthur, how could I haveever hated him?” You felt like cold water was splashed on your face. Of course, Tommy would have never done that to you. But who did?

“It’s not your fault, love. It’s not your fault.”

LONDON, 1921

It’s been long since you last stepped foot in London. A year wasn’t a long time but a year teetering on the edge waiting for the next blow was a year too long. It’s not that you were expecting anything, but now that you’re in London…so close to Tommy, you know that everything will be different again. He’ll be forceful under the pretext of loving you, some bullshitt about it being for the better…you knew it was wrong. You knew that it wasn’t right. You hated your predicament, but you hated yourself more for never seeming to have the ability to hate him.

You never questioned his love for you; you were sure about that but sometimes…you found yourself questioning if he loved you too much. You’ve never experienced love like that before. Too much love. Growing up, you always had just enough. What you couldn’t find from your mum, you found in Johnny. What you couldn’t find in your customers, you found in the Shelbys. What you couldn’t find from yourself, you found in Tommy. What you couldn’t find in Tommy, you tried to look for in Simon.

Everything was just right. To have too much was too much.

“You’ve been quiet since we got here, darling,” Simon says, his hand on your knee as you rode the Bentley back home.

“Sorry,” you smiled up at him. “I just miss London. It’s different to be back home,”

“I know,” he says. “But we’re here now. Where do you prefer?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, playing with his fingers. You thumbed the rings on his fingers, your wedding band the most important one.

“I’m asking…where do you want to build our family?” he asked. “I know I said that I didn’t want to have children yet but we aren’t getting any younger. We’d make the most beautiful children. They’ll get your beauty and intelligence. They’ll inherit whatever they want to inherit from me,”

Your fingers stilled.

“Hmm,” you pretended to think, trying to playt the cards right. “I’d want our children to grow up in London.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his head falling on your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I want them to grow up here but also experience different things from travelling. Maybe we could find a summer house in Italy?” you asked. He kisses your neck and you sit there cold, unmoving.

“Yes, let’s buy a house in Italy…” he murmurs, drunk on your scent. “How many houses do you want, hm? Let’s buy whatever my wife wants…whatever she needs, hm?”

“You spoil me too much, Simon,” you force out a giggle. He doesn’t seem to mind.

“Only for the best. You’re going to be the mother of my children,”

You arrived home and you heaved a sigh. You went inside your bedroom, ready to unpack some of the items you bought from New York when your eyes landed on the frame of pressed flowers that Tommy gave you on your birthday. Simon has been telling you to get rid of it—it was tacky, he said but you told him that the flowers were from a day of picnicking with your mother when you were a child. You felt your lips twitch at the memory of Tommy giving it to you sheepishly. If only you could have him back now. If only he’s there with you.

You breathed deeply, trying to purge yourself of the sadness that lingered. It’s been two years since you’ve last seen him. He’s staying true to his word, you knew. He’s protecting you and you’re protecting him. You hated the situation you were in. Why did you need protection in the first place? You were the wife of one of the wealthiest men in the whole world. You could have everything you’ve ever wanted handed to you on a silver platter. You could have everything but why do you feel so alone? Why do you feel like there’s still something missing? Why do you feel like, no matter what you did—no matter how you tried, Tommy’s still the one you love? You reached for the pendant but you remembered that it wasn’t there.

Was it selfish to wish for him to never marry someone else? To never love anyone? Was it selfish to wish for him to finally love you the way you do all these years?

Or was he only protecting you because he’s bound by his words and not the feeling of unbridled love that he has for you?

Polly told you that you could have everything…you felt like you had nothing.

You had more when you were working as a prostitute.

Now, you just have Simon.

Simon has been feeling your detachment ever since you arrived in New York. He knew that it was his fault; laying his hand on you like that but could anyone really blame him? You were his love; the object of all of his desires. You needed protecting, you needed safety and you needed him to give you the world.

He was in his office, sorting through the files that he left for a year. He picks up the telephone and dials a number. He wanted you all for himself. He was hungry for you; hunger for your affection, your flesh, your gaze. He’ll do everything to preserve the attention that you were giving him but now that he feels you slipping away, he’s becoming more desperate. It was all Tommy Shelby’s fault and he needed to be dealt with.

“I sent you the money for the murder of Johnny Wilson,” he speaks into the telephone. “I need you to do gsomething for me again.”

“Hm?”

Simon speaks into the phone authoritatively. Details of his plan were spoken. He was meticulous and specific with what he wanted.

“Even…even the children?”

“Even the children,” he confirms. He senses the hesitation of the speaker from the other side. “If you do it in less than a year, I’ll add another twenty thousand to the total. I’ll make sure you never have to work a day in your fucking life. Call me when it’s done,” he spits, ending the call and looking at a photo of you on the table; not knowing that on the other side, an intruder was hearing everything that just transpired.

Who was Simon Coventry?

Cameras flashed as you enter the venue for the charity ball. You were dressed in a blue gown like promised. Simon’s hand was on your waist, smiling tightly at the cameras. He always hated the attention of the media and in your own way, you wanted to calm him down. You touch the hand that was on your waist to remind him that you were there. You smile at him softly and he smiles back. If only he was as soft as he presents himself to be in the media.

He leads you into the venue without so much a glance offered to the media and you follow.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” you smiled up at him.

“You can go ahead and sit,” he says. “I’ll just be greeting some of my partners.” You nod and you allow him to kiss you on the cheek before you part ways. You didn’t know why—but you felt like something was wrong. Something was going to happen tonight.

A waiter comes to your table and offers you a drink. He was young—probably way younger than you.

“Champagne, please,” you told him. “You’re too young to be working,”

“I-I’m nineteen, ma’am,” he tells you while pouring you a glass.

“Ah, maybe not that young then,” you replied. “Is this your first day?”

“Yes, ma’am. My first day on the job,” he says. “I’m quite nervous to be surrounded by the rich but I need the money…”

“I’m sure you’ll do well,” you replied, offering him a friendly smile. “Here,” you said, opening your clutch and handing him a few pounds. “Think of it as a tip for serving me champagne and for talking to me.”

“This is too much, ma’am,” he refuses but you shove the notes in his hand. You remembered how tips from the brothel helped you so much; it allowed you to buy necessities. It allowed you to get Tommy the signet ring that you got him for his 21st birthday. You were busy talking to the young man that you didn’t notice your husband walking towards you with a scowl on his face.

“Hey, you,” he sarcastically greets the server, snapping his fingers rudely.. “Refill my glass,”

“Simon— “

“Thank you,” he says, disregarding you completely. The boy turns to leave but Simon stops him. “No, stay. I need you to refill my fucking drink every time.”

“Simon—“

“You think my wife is beautiful?” he asked. The boy looks at you and you attempt to shake your head; telling him to walk away before anything else happens. “I’d be offended if you told me that she wasn’t.”

“Simon— “

He takes a swig of his drink before extending the same empty glass.

“What’s your name?” Simon asked, watching the boy shakily refill the champagne flute. “Don’t spill anything on my wife,” he threatens darkly. The boy swallows.

“William, sir,”

“William…do you think my wife is pretty?” he asked again. You look around the room to see that everyone was trying to discreetly watch the commotion. You tried standing up but Simon pushed you back down.

“Y-yes, sir,”

Simon nods, pleased with William’s answer.

“You may go, William,” you calmly told him.

“You may not,” Simon says. William’s feet were stuck planted on the ground. He was shaking and you tried to plead with Simon, but he wasn’t looking at you. “Actually, let’s take this outside, hm? Everyone seems to be enjoying this fucking commotion. Come with us, Y/N,”

“Simon, please,”

“Come on, darling,” he says, pulling you away forcefully from the table. You stumble after him, heart racing wildly inside your chest. Fuck. Your shoulders were shaking as you tried to catch your breath. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The three of you arrive in the wine cellar, an empty room where you were sure no one heard you.

“Stand there,” Simon says. “Y/N, stay beside me.”

William stands in front of Simon, his steps hesitant.

“I’ll give you a deal, William. Do you want a thousand pounds? You’ll never find that anywhere else,” he taunts. You shake your head discreetly, but William wasn't looking at you. He was pale, his breathing shallow. “I’ll give it to you right now. Cash,”

“Y-yes, sir,” he replies.

“Say please,”

“Simon—“

“Shut up! Shut up!”

“Please, sir,”

“Kneel and beg.”

“Simon, it’s not right! Please, let’s just go home,”

William kneels in front of Simon, and you could see the sinister smile that played on his lips. He fishes for something in his pocket—a gun.

“S-sir,”

“You want a thousand pounds, yeah?” he asked, waving his gun in the air.

“Simon—“

“I don’t want another word from you, Y/N. Or else, I swear, I will fucking shoot you.” he threatens. You were trying your best to stop being so hysterical but you couldn’t. You were sobbing, hands shaking when Simon pointed the gun at the poor boy. You tried to hold back the sobs that threatened to come out; tried to wonder what a monster Simon becamez

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” you choked, crouching down on the floor to comfort yourself. “I’m sorry, William…”

BANG! BANG!

The sounds of a gun going off rings inside the cellar and you flinch. Simon has just shot William twice; one on his stomach, one on his shoulder. It was sloppy; you knew he was aiming for his heart. William lays on the floor with a pool of his own blood, crying in pain. Simon just walks towards him, throwing him a thousand pounds and then spitting on William’s face.

“Don’t ever look at my fucking wife again. Fix yourself Y/N. We’re going back to the party,”

“Simon, he’s just a kid! Get him to a fucking hospital!”

“I said, fix yourself!” he roared, and you closed your mouth. You stepped away from him, afraid of what he might do.

“Now you know what happens if you ever try to leave me. It’s time for me to show you what I will do to protect you, okay darling?” he asked, crouching down to your level and pulling you in an embrace. He kisses your temples to comfort you for the damage that he has done. “Don’t ever leave me,”

The two of you left William’s body and went back to the party. You were shaken, aloof the whole night. You couldn’t believe what just transpired. Simon’s cruelty—his disregard for himan life for a thousand pounds… You were trying to catch the attention of other servers but were ignored. You just wanted someone to check on William, that poor boy. You and your husband continued to sit beside each other acting like the happy couple, never noticing the pair of blue eyes that seemed to pierce straight into you.

Simon killed Johnny.

Your hands shook as you read the handwriting on the crumpled piece of paper over and over again. You found it in the clutch that you left in your seat when Simon shot William in the cellar. Turning the paper over, you sobbed; unable to control the emotions that begged for your attention—anger, fear, disgust, sadness…everything seemed to crash into you. You run towards the bathroom to vomit on the toilet. Your whole body tembled, and you cradled yourself on the bathroom floor. You didn’t care if the dress was wet and crumpled…how…why…what did you do in your past life to be punished like this?

You haven’t been the same since you received that note. Simon found you in bed; unmoving and unresponsive. The shock must have been too much to bear but he had to show you—he had to put on a display of what he would do to keep you safe and away from the Shelbys. He didn’t regret anything except for the way your eyes glistened when he threatened to shoot you. That was a sin he’d pay for but for now, maybe silence is enough to soothe you.

He lays in bed, an inch too far away from you and he couldn’t bear it. He could hear the way your sobs shook the bed; how hard you tried to keep yourself from being too loud.

“Darling…” he coos but you only cried harder.

“Not tonight, Simon. Please,” you whispered, desperation kicking in. “I’m…I’m— “

He nods to himself, a wounded puppy.

“I have…I have to leave you tomorrow to meet with Alfie Solomons,” he tells you. “Use that time to go out or, or get out of this place. I wouldn’t mind if you went alone as long as you have at least one of Alfie’s men to guard you,”

You wanted to laugh. He was holding your liberty as hostage; taunting you with it whenever he did something wrong but in reality, no matter how much freedom he grants you, his hand will always be on your neck to keep you from leaving.

“I’m sorry for threatening you,”

“Not tonight, Simon,”

He nods but it actually angers him for you to refuse him so easily. He has given you anything and everything. Hell, he bought you that summer house in Italy already, but you still couldn’t give him the satisfaction of holding you for the night. Did Tommy Shelby hold you while you slept? Would you have let him?

You felt Simon kiss your head before he left. You couldn’t sleep last night, thinking of all the ways to tell Tommy or at least anyone about Simon’s plan. You weren’t sure if he was sincere when he told you that you can go out today but you were taking that chance. You knew that Arthur wanted you to protect yourself but maybe this could be the last time. Just this once and then, never again.

You dressed up, the brown coat covering your figure and giving you shelter from the cruelty of the world that Simon built for the two of you. You ordered one of the servants to fetch you one of Solomons’ men that could drive. You needed to talk to Polly or anyone from Birmingham and the only way to do it was through the telephone. It was too dangerous at home; Simon had eyes and ears everywhere.

“Mrs. Coventry,” the driver greets you, opening the door to let you in. You settle yourself inside, opening your clutch for a deal he couldn’t resist.

“Other than driving me around, what else do you do?” you asked him.

“I’m told to obey all of your orders as long as it complies with what Mr. Coventry asks us,” he replied. “Where are we going today, ma’am?”

“Just…go to the city,” you replied. “Do you think…do you think you could do something for me? I’ll make sure you’re paid and that you won’t be blamed for anything that comes out of it,”

“Ma’am, I am under strict orders of Mr. Solomons to— “

“Five hundred pounds,” you interrupted, you needed him to understand the urgency of the situation. Your nail beds have bled through the night and were red and swollen. “I can give it to you in cash right now. Just tell me if you know where I could reach the Shelbys the fastest,” You sounded like Simon like now, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care anymore.

“There…there are Blinders right outside a flat in London. Ada Shelby is rumoured to live there,” he says lowly.

“Take me there. Make sure you’re discreet and make sure we’re not being followed. I’ll make sure that you’re safe,” you promised him. “Just…just go there as fast as you can,”

It’s hard to be discreet when you’re driving one of the most expensive cars in the world, but he drove you to Ada Shelby’s house anyway. Five hundred pounds was more than what he could ever make working under Alfie Solomons.

A storm was brewing, and you were at the centre of all of it.

Ada lives in a building in the centre of London. On the way, your driver told you about how Tommy bought the whole building for her. You smiled softly; Tommy was finally realising his dreams, but he was realising them without you.

You exited the car, covered from head to toe. You made sure no one recognized you; the lush, brown coat and your hat covered your face entirely. You told him to leave you alone and come back in three hours. He zoomed off, afraid to be seen by one of Simon’s men.

Your breathing was uneven and the steps that you took were shaky. You blamed it on the uneven ground. Knocking on the door, you prayed silently for Ada to hear you. The more time you spend outside, the higher the risk of being recognized. You waited with bated breath, but the door soon opened, revealing none other than the man who occupied every corner of your brain. You rushed inside before he could even speak and he let you, locking the door behind him as he followed you into the drawing room. He stands in front of you, removing the coat from your shoulders gently. You were shivering but not from the cold. How were you more beautiful than the last time he saw you?

“Tommy, Tommy, Tommy,” you said over and over again, like you were making sure that he was there. Your resolve was dissolving, and you were near hysterical. He crouches down in front of you to take a good look for your face. He missed it; he missed your touch…he missed you. His fingers on your waist seem to snap you back to reality and you take a deep breath. “Simon killed Johnny. He’s going to—he’s going to kill all of you,”

A/N: Thank you very much for making this far! We’re getting closer to the end of this series but please don’t forget to reblog and comment if you liked it / loved it / hated this chapter, etc! I love discussing and replying to your comments and reblogs.

ALSO: A quick character study on Simon is that he is filty rich. The value of money is immaterial to him. In his eyes, money is a way for him to get anything and everything he wants. It’s what makes people kill and die for each other. If it benefits him, then he’d gladly throw money at whatever it is about.

TAGLIST: @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtius @trixie23 @everythingelseisextra @majesticcmey @liveat1am @dumb-wh @denabp16 @yvonna-chan @goldensunflowe-r @therosabel @hunnibearrr @dazecrea @daddyslittleattentionwhore @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf @dang-shawty-okay @dasia21 @tsenthusiast1920 @aces-tattooartist @panda-luminary @ttaechi @spencerrxids @i-heart-food @fudge13 @affabletimelady @heartcereql @ce1iat @notalxx @1800-queen-trash @sweetwanderlust05 @globetrotter28 @thebestandworstdayofjune @reggxe-a @verreuckteli @vampireluck @zoexme

(I’ll be removing people from my taglist on the next chapter if conditions aren’t met! I’m sorry but that’s the rule….)

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #tommy shelby x you #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x you #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #protection!tommy

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calaisreno · 17 days

Text

His Move

1557 Words / Prompt: Manipulate

He shouldn’t have been surprised. Mary was an assassin, the business of her past never quite behind her. She’d run away once, and Sherlock had insisted they go after her. At that point, John was willing to let her go. They were never going to have the future he’d imagined when he bought her that ring.

She was already dying when he arrived at the aquarium, and said the things you would expect a loving wife to say. You were my whole world.

He felt a dull sense of relief, and hated himself for it. The problems of your future are my privilege.

A future, cut short. And still, her problems would haunt him.

When Sherlock reached out his hand towards John, his eyes wide, John saw the horror-stricken expression on his face..

You were my whole world, he thought.

Her body was lifted, put on a stretcher, and carried out. John followed.

Sherlock texts him: I’m so sorry. SH

John doesn’t reply.

Please talk to me, John. SH

He feeds Rosie, gives her a bath, puts her to bed. She fusses; she’s old enough to sense something is wrong. Now she has only her father to keep her world stable.

John, please. SH

He plans the funeral; there’s no one else. Mary has no family, only a few friends. It’s his responsibility. This keeps him busy, gives him space to work out what comes next.

Sherlock is actually sorry. This John doesn’t doubt. He’s not a sociopath, regardless of what he says.

John’s words at the aquarium were spoken in anger; he doesn’t blame Sherlock for Mary’s death. John is the one who brought her into their orbit. He can’t change that, but sometimes he thinks about what would have happened if Sherlock had returned six months sooner. Of course he would have been angry, and would have expressed how he felt about watching his best friend die, being abandoned for two years. Six months earlier, maybe he wouldn’t have paid attention to the new nurse, the one who kept flirting with him.

He has no doubt that he would have come back to Baker Street if Sherlock wanted him. The compromise, as always, would have been on John’s part. Sherlock is never going to change. He will always treat John as a convenience, a habit that doesn’t require thought.

Sherlock is rarely solicitous, never bestows compliments, only flatters someone if he’s being manipulative. The speech he gave at the wedding nearly knocked John over. Maybe Sherlock was only trying to do what was expected of him, but it was unexpectedly touching.

Sitting there, hearing the two people who love you most, he’d had this thought: I would have waited for you, if I’d known.

In his own way, Sherlock does love John. He also knows how to manipulate John, to get him to do what he wants. To keep John in the dark when he doesn’t trust him.

Loving Sherlock has always meant giving something up. It means following him into danger. John isn’t sure he can afford that any longer, not with a child to care for.

He has to be sure.

It doesn’t surprise John to see Sherlock at the funeral. Mrs Hudson sits with him, and Lestrade joins them. Molly slides into the pew, whispers something to Greg. It’s a protective entourage; they all know what John said.

Harry is home, watching Rosie. John sits alone, in the front row.

Sherlock has texted him daily, and John hasn’t replied. That’s why Sherlock is here. He wants John to accept his apology, for everything to be as it was before he ruined it all by dying. Not that Sherlock understands it this way; he doesn’t think that dying ruined things. He’s convinced that he had to do it, that John would have died if he hadn’t. In his mind, there was no alternative.

Maybe he’s right, but for two years, John carried the weight of grief. That’s just feelings, sentiment; Sherlock wan’t dead; he was saving John, saving the world, winning the game. He left John behind, let him grieve, because that was the only way to solve what happened at Barts that day.

Sherlock will still leave John behind at crime scenes, run heedlessly into danger, and probably get wounded at some point. He will question John’s intelligence, talk to John when he’s miles away, text him impatiently while he’s treating patients. He will dismiss John’s concerns as frivolous, insist that sentiment makes him weak. He will break John’s heart again and again. That’s just the reality.

And John could break his heart, too. He has a temper, and letting go of anger is hard. Will that anger still be simmering in a year, two years? It’s hard for him to forgive; even in death, he hasn’t really forgiven Mary.

Can he say he forgives Sherlock and really mean it?

John prayed for a miracle, and hit the ghost when he returned. Sherlock didn’t hit back; he made a joke. He missed the point.

But he pulled John out of a bonfire. His look of panic is something John won’t ever forget.

He tricked John into forgiving him—but has also tried to be worthy of that forgiveness.

He has expressed his love for John in front of a hundred people.

These are not the acts of a heartless man.

Sherlock needs him. Maybe two years away was as hard for him as it was for John.

Does John need him?

He imagines a life without Sherlock. He weighs it against a life without Mary. One is possible, one is past.

His wife was a master manipulator. He’s only beginning to realise the extent of that. He’d had doubts, but couldn’t put words to them until he was in Leinster Gardens, hearing her admit that she’d shot Sherlock, that she would do anything to keep John in the dark about who she really was.

The woman he fell in love with saved him from despair.

The woman he’d married was a facade.

He never forgave the woman who shot Sherlock.

The woman he went back to gave him his daughter.

So. Mary’s gone, and what he feels about that is a confusing mixture of guilt and sorrow—and relief. At some point, he loved her. Or the idea of her. He chose her.

She made choices as well. She chose death, rather than allowing Sherlock to take that bullet. When John came back to her, she understood that he would never completely forgive her, that he was doing it for Rosie. She’d chosen to save Sherlock, to die rather than live with John’s grief over losing him a second time.

Sherlock didn’t kill her. She chose to die.

But when he stood at her grave, he didn’t ask her not to be dead.

What he wishes now is that they’d never met, that he could rewind time and make a different choice. That she was still alive, a stranger living somewhere else.

But then he wouldn’t have Rosie. He loves his daughter completely, protectively, without rhyme or reason. He wants the best life for her, the carefree childhood he never had. And he imagines her growing up without a mother—with a father who has chosen to be alone.

He pictures her, a child with pigtails and a stubborn streak. A teenager able to go toe-to-toe with her father and still see reason, take a small step back when she’s wrong. A young woman with curly blond hair and a teasing smile. She leaves for uni, and he’s alone again. He grows old, and remembers.

Does he need Sherlock?

Absolutely, desperately. Like air.

Can he trust Sherlock?

Probably not. And he won’t change him.

He misses Sherlock. Whatever they have been to one another, his heart wants him.

Is it worth the risk?

He’s standing in the church reception hall, drinking a cup of terrible coffee. Sherlock is across the room, looking at him. His expression is sorrowful, not the fake sorrow he can put on during a case, pretending he cares. His hands are stuffed in his coat pockets and he’s slouching against the wall, watching John.

Coworkers from the surgery express their condolences. Mrs Hudson hugs him tearfully. Lestrade tells him they need to get together over a pint. He accepts their sympathy, makes small talk because that’s what people do. All the while, he feels Sherlock’s eyes like a magnet, pulling on him.

As the hall begins to empty out, he can resist the pull no longer. Sherlock looks up, surprised, as John walks towards him. His pale eyes fill with tears.

John has given up so much already. He doesn’t blame anyone but himself. Maybe he’ll never fully trust Sherlock, but he’s already forgiven him.

Setting aside all his objections, laying down his anger and his regret, he surrenders.

When he pulls Sherlock into the hug he’s always wanted, this time Sherlock hugs back. John makes deductions. He can smell a cigarette, maybe two (nervous). He feels his ribs, still too prominent (unhappy). He’s trembling with the emotion he hates (love). The world may have lost a fine actor when Sherlock Holmes became a consulting detective, but this is not acting.

“Please come home,” Sherlock whispers.

John smiles into his shoulder, his own tears beginning. “Oh God, yes.”

#mayprompts2024

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ppnuggiex · 11 months

Note

Howdy! I saw requests were open, but if not then please do ignore this one!

It's kinda crack? But mostly angst to comfort, essentially something goes wrong in reader's alchemy class and they get hit by an extremely strong spell that makes it seem as if they're dead, but really they're just in a super deep sleep. So once the spell wears off, they wake up right in the middle of their own funeral cuz everyone thought they were dead. Gender neutral pronouns for the reader with riddle, kalim, malleus and floyd as the love interests! In headcanon format as well pretty please!

　　　　　　TWST x gn reader

　　　　『　riddle ,, kalim ,, malleus ,, floyd ,, gender neutral reader 』

　　-> reader gets hit w/ heavy deep sleep spell n characters think theyre dead

　　— fluff ,, sfw ,, crack ,, a bit of angst

　　— this ended up being a little more on the humorous side 😭

- kalim

| • hes so distraught ,, hands on his head as he freaks out and shakes you violently . jamil finds out and facepalms . mr crewel told him nothing was wrong ,, to just give you time but kalim couldnt .

| • he swore you had died ,, and because of that he done held a big fancy funeral . he done invited all the dorms and everything .

| • you woke up when he was in the middle of talking about how you were such a nice and loving partner ,, how he wished you didnt have to die this soon .

| • get this man a tissue bc he starts bawling when you whip that coffin open .

- riddle

| • hes a bit more calmer than kalim in this situation ,, taking care of you whilst you sleep . but he always felt like something was off .

| • that was until one day he went to check up on you ,, your skin was oddly cold and he couldnt feel your breathe or see your chest move when you did breathe .

| • he may or may not have panicked at that point ,, checking your pulse and not feeling anything .

| • riddle thought the spell done killed you then ,, after all you didnt have any sort of resistance to magic so it was a possibility .

| • cue him tending your funeral and trying his best not to start crying in front of all those people .

| • you were his partner ,, his life and joy and now youre gone . or so he thought until you threw that coffin door open and smacked the person speaking right in the face .

| • and standing up in the coffin and falling face first out .

- malleus

| • bro acted the same as kalim . he did not stop to think about checking your pulse or anything . his immediate reaction was that you died . and all the sudden it started to rain very hard .

| • he starts acting like a child who lost his mom ,, panicking and shaking your body as much as he could .

| • then he pulls out some shakespeare typa shit ,, going on about how woe is me ,, my beloved hath died ,, taking from his grip as your soul was dragged away from him .

| • he has a small funeral for you ,, ready to speak for you when a miracle happens .

| • you awaken !! malleus is so shocked he gets a little teary eyed ,, running over and making sure youre okay before getting all baby girl .

| • in the end you walk out carrying him bridal style whilst sebek is fretting over his image .

- floyd

| • he thought this was one of those pranks people do to their pets . where you record yourself pretending to be dead to see what your cat does or something .

| • so he kinda ,, kicked you a few times and is all like ,, wake up shrimpy this isnt funny .

| • then jade has to break the news of the possibility you mightve been struck too harshly by the potion and maybe youre just ,, yknow ,, passed on .

| • floyd refuses to believe it ,, you couldnt have left him . you wouldnt do that to him . you wouldnt abandon him like that .

| • as much as he hates to admit it ,, he definitely cried a bit that night . he shows up for the funeral ,, still in disbelief youre dead .

| • but boooyy is he whipped when you ended up being asleep . he doesnt care who’s there ,, he runs over and rips you out that coffin so fast .

| • blames you for worrying and leaving him ,, and makes you promise not to do something like that again .

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yjhariani · 1 year

Text

Part 2 of Lighter Warnings: Profanity, angst, violence, blood.

A/N: Apparently people are upset that I kill them? Hopefully this mend your hearts in one way or another.

“This is a rescue mission,” Laswell started. “Top secret. The only people who will know and will be involved in this mission are the people in this room and a group of allies.”

Soap was looking around. Even the captain looked like he knew only as much as he did. In fact, he looked rather surprised.

“Who are we rescuing?” Price asked.

“One of my agents,” Laswell answered.

“Since when do we do this kind of mission?” Ghost questioned. “Rescuing a CIA agent of anyone.”

“This one isn’t actually working for the CIA. Just for me. Besides,” Laswell sighed before finally opening the file case, “this is the one person that you would want to rescue.”

The photo was the first thing everyone saw and time seemed to slow down. The four were looking—staring at the photo. The face that most of them had not seen in almost a year. Except for Ghost who saw another photo of the same face last night because he could not sleep.

The lighter in Ghost’s pocket felt like it weighed a ton now. It felt as if it was lit up and he tried his best not to touch it. He could not have mistaken that face. He knew exactly who the person was.

Gaz had to blink a few times to ensure himself. Soap even had to rub his eyes. Price, picking up the photo, felt a tinge of nausea at the back of his throat.

“This? This person is your agent?” Price asked.

“Yes,” Laswell answered stoically. “As of this moment, this person is taken by—”

“Can we talk about this for a moment?!” Soap shrieked. “That person is dead. We were there. Ghost was holding this person’s dead body! We were… we were there. We saw it. We saw the body at the funeral, too.”

Price slid the photo to Ghost. It was a photo he had not seen before, it looked recently taken.

You. Still as gorgeous as the last time Ghost saw you. Most of all, you looked alive. You were smiling in this photo. It was not genuine and Ghost knew it.

“That’s why I took care of the funeral and, guess what? The most crucial information that we got was received when our dead friend was posing as a dead body,” Laswell nodded. “We can talk about this after we rescue—”

“You couldn’t have told us?” Price protested. “You don’t trust us?”

“Telling you would compromise the mission. Now, can we all focus here? The longer we stay here, the higher the chance that we’ll be failing this rescue mission. We still need to fly to where they’re holding our friend prisoner,” Laswell said, now sounding very much more serious. “If it’s an apology you want, fine. I’ll make it brief. I’m sorry. Would you all focus on the matter at hand now?”

Price sighed and waved a hand, telling Laswell to continue. Soap and Gaz nodded. That left everyone looking at Ghost who was still looking at the photo.

“Simon, you’re with us?” Laswell asked.

Ghost finally looked up.

Did he care that Laswell hid this from you? Did he care how you got into whatever this mess Laswell asked them to fix? Did he care that the one time he found out that you were alive was because Laswell had a job and the job was to rescue you? No.

Ghost cared that you were alive and that he would get to you soon.

“Just take me there and give me a gun,” Ghost said.

Without sparing any seconds left, Laswell immediately briefed the squad on the place where an arms dealer was keeping you hostage. Right after that, everyone started moving, ready to rescue one person.

Getting in was easy. It was a mansion in Mexico and there no one inside the building. However, they were not actually taking things easy. They knew what a trap looked like. Getting out might be difficult.

At least, Ghost thought, by then they would have you and he knew what you could do. You would make things way easier. Way, way easier. Especially for Ghost.

To be honest, Ghost had imagined a lot of different scenarios of that last mission. How things would end with you alive, how he would gladly take your place, how he wished—sometimes—for Soap to be the one who died.

Not once that Ghost thought of this possibility. Yes, he had thought that the enemy might have taken you prisoner, but that was rather impossible seeing that he saw your dead body at your own funeral. He knew it was you. There was no way that anyone could look so much like you. Besides, he would know if it was not you.

Just like he knew that the further in they walked into the mansion, the closer they were to you. Ghost felt something in his chest. Was it excitement? Was it relief? Was it anger? Who knew, he was never good at those things.

It felt like a sudden when Ghost went down a manhole, saw the room with bars as a door from where he stood, and saw a bed inside that room and you were lying on it, nose pointed to the ceiling.

Your name fell out of Ghost’s lips. He thought it was his mind, at most a whisper. However, you turned your face towards his direction, confused at first. Then, you got off the bed and rushed to the bars.

“What the fuck are you guys doing here?” you asked, sounding way more angry than relieved.

“Rescuing you,” Laswell said as she passed Ghost and skipped towards the room you were in.

“It’s a trap,” you stated.

“Holy fucking Jesus, it really is you,” Soap said, catching up behind Laswell.

“What do you mean it’s a trap?” Price asked, joining Soap and Laswell who were already trying to unlock the bar that separated them from you.

“They put me here so they could escape you,” you said to Laswell. “They’re gonna burn this place down.”

“That’s why we need to hurry,” Laswell nodded. “Ghost, bolt cutter.”

In the meantime, Ghost was frozen on his spot. All he could see was you, your hands holding the bars, your messed up face, the way you stood, the look you gave everyone but him.

Gaz carefully put his hand on Ghost’s shoulder. Ghost did not look at the sergeant. He could not. All he could look at was you and you and you. Alive.

“LT, I got your back,” Gaz quietly said. “They need that bolt cutter you’re holding.”

“Ghost, quickly,” Price encouraged.

That next second, you finally looked at Ghost. He saw your fists clenching the bars even tighter. There was a thin smile on your face and that was all it took for Ghost to walk himself towards the door and cut the chain that locked you up.

The chain was cut, pried away, and the bar was opened. The next thing Simon knew was that he felt himself getting pushed back by a splatter of a human being wrapping their whole body tight around him.

Unfortunately, it only lasted a few seconds. It was too soon. Way too soon. You took one of the guns holstered on Ghost’s belt in the process.

“Let’s go,” you said.

“Just him?” Soap questioned.

“Good to see you, Soap,” you sighed, cocking the gun in your hand. “You, too, Captain. Hey, Gaz.”

Gaz nodded at you once.

Looking back at Simon, you found him still looking at you. You had no idea if he blinked at all or not.

“Been a while, big guy, you’re ready for this?” you asked, a flat smile on your face.

“How are you in a good mood?” was the first thing he said to you.

“Of course I’m in a good mood, I get to be in your lives again,” you said. “That, of course, if we can make it out of this place alive.”

There was a few seconds passing with everyone just watching you and Ghost looking at one another. Those seconds felt like forever for Ghost. They were beating you. They left bruises and cuts, but he knew they could never destroy you like that.

There was nothing more that Ghost wanted other than to smother you with his face and to crush your ribs with his arms. Affectionately, of course, but he would never say that out loud.

If you had time to spare, you would have already slipped his mask off and kissed him on the lips.

“It’s like we’re not even here,” Soap said.

“It’s like someone’s acting as if they had not been dead the whole fucking year,” Price scoffed.

“I’m sorry. I trust the boss lady here and I’m just doing what she told me,” you said. “Now, where is the exit?”

Not waiting for anything else to happen, Laswell led the way. Usually, you would be further at the back in the marching order, but for some reason, no one was moving until you started tailing Laswell. Ghost was right behind you because he was worried that you would combust if he let you out of his sight.

It was all easy. Getting back through one door and another. It was all too easy.

You did say it was a trap. That they would burn this place down. Ghost could not care less. He just cared that you were alive and were present, not more than a few feet away from him.

Nothing about you changed. Not that Ghost noticed. Well, you were more cautious somehow, but that was understandable seeing your reputation.

Upon entering one of the last rooms you had to pass before the lot of you were finally out of the building, you started smelling it. Gasoline.

Getting further into the big room, you finally saw the tanks. They were grouped in a corner. The floor and all the present furniture were wet with what was in them.

Everyone was tense all of a sudden. These were not here before. However, none of you stopped. Not until you felt a bullet flew across the opposite side of the hallway the group was sticking towards. It was headed towards the tank.

The shooter was a few feet away from the front door. Instead of pointing his gun at the group, he pointed his gun at the grouped tanks of gasoline.

It happened fast. You pushed yourself aside, feeling yourself rolling on the floor towards the tanks, and being pushed on your chest by a force of some sort. At the same time, Laswell and Ghost fired their guns at the person at the front door. In the very last microsecond, Ghost meant to pull you back upon sensing your leave, but he missed by mere centimetres.

Your body fell to the floor before the shooter’s body. By the time that stranger’s body touched the ground, Ghost was already beside you.

Red was blooming from your chest, your eyes wide, almost breathless. Ghost saw the spreading of red on your clothes and immediately pressed his hands on it.

“You took a fucking bullet for a bunch of tins?!” Ghost questioned. “Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

“Calm down, boo. At least we’re not cooked,” you said.

Ghost looked at your face and your chest back to back for what seemed to be a million times. He could see the blood seeping through his gloves.

Earlier, it was like he entered an ancient cave and instead of gold, he found found a crypt with you inside it alive, along with his heart. If that was the case, this moment would be that part where he realised that the treasure he found was cursed.

This looked bad. This looked really bad. You felt it, too.

Ghost traced his steps in a rapid second. He realised that he could have given you his bulletproof vest and he did not. He was too busy getting awed by your presence.

Last time, after long nights of pondering, he knew that there was nothing he could have done that would change your ‘death’. This time… well, this time, he would regret a lot.

“Simon,” your hand searched for his face, making him look you in the eyes. “It might be for real this time.”

“Not again,” he breathed. “Not again. I won’t fucking take it.”

By then, the rest were already around you.

“Jesus,” Soap exhaled.

“We need to move,” Price stated.

“Are you—”

“We’re moving and we’ll stop you from fucking dying!” Price yelled, cutting you off.

Everyone turned towards the captain, speechless. He was angry. No one had seen him this angry.

For a very brief moment, Ghost looked at Price and understood why he was so angry. Ghost had to deal with your death. Gaz had to deal with your death. Soap had to deal with your death. However, Price had to deal with your death whilst dealing with Gost, Gaz, and Soap dealing with your death.

If anyone deserved a million apologies for this mission Laswell gave you, it would be Price.

So, Ghost sucked it up. He did all he could to maintain pressure on your chest as he picked you up. Soap immediately helped him carry you as the group moved to the vehicle they left when they got here.

Everything moved so fast. Ghost did not pay attention and only kept his hands on you, looking at you. In the middle of this rough, sped up ride, he saw you smiling.

It was all slipping away, you could feel it. It was cruel that Ghost had to experience it once more.

“What?” Ghost asked.

“You know, my loyalty always lies with you, right?” you replied.

Ghost knew what you were doing.

“Shut up,” Ghost said.

“Always,” you repeated, putting your hand on his masked face. “Nothing I’m more loyal to.”

Even then, Ghost could not help but leaned himself against your touch.

“Except for this job, yeah?” Ghost asked.

You only looked at him.

“You’re still up for our plan if I make it out of this?” you asked.

“You will,” was all Ghost said.

“In case I don’t—”

“You better shut your mouth and keep it in,” Price chimed in. “You’re not dying on my watch, not again.”

In spite of that, a smile formed on your face.

I love you, you mouthed with whatever consciousness you had left.

“Fuck off,” Ghost quietly said.

The next few minutes, you only looked at him looking at you. Before there was nothing.

“I’m so… very sorry this happens again,” Soap said to Ghost.

The tension in the air was real. Hearts were broken. However, nothing would ever feel as hurtful as Soap putting the plus four card onto the table and saying.

You laughed.

“Last place again, boo,” you said. “You’re in the bottom of a bucket full of shit, man.”

“Fuck off,” Ghost scoffed as he gathered all the cards.

Price let out a light cackle as he leaned back on his chair.

“Nice place you both got here. Must be like a holiday every day of the year,” Price said.

By place he meant the house you and Ghost just moved in. It was not much, really, but it was what you and Ghost had envisioned all those years ago.

“A bit lonely with just the two of you in it, don’t you think?” Laswell asked.

“Oh, we’re… planning to get some pets,” you said.

“You mean a baby?” Gaz asked.

Ghost turned towards him, eyes sharp, piercing into the sergeant’s soul.

“Careful, Gaz, next time you’d be the one who’s dead and we won’t be as traumatised as when this one,” Soap gestured at you, “died. Twice almost.”

“Aw, come on, let’s not talk about that again. Just shuffle the deck and pass it around,” you said.

“Of course you don’t wanna talk about it, you’re the one who doesn’t have to suffer,” Ghost said.

“You better take that back, Simon, because you have no idea,” Laswell sighed. “I’m the one who has to deal with the whining.”

“We all suffered,” Price nodded, looking at Laswell. “But you started it.”

Laswell only looked at the captain for a moment, but she exhaled eventually.

“Fair,” Laswell said. “I could’ve told you, but I didn’t and I’m sorry.”

A pause.

“I still can’t believe you took a bullet for a bunch of tin cans,” Soap said.

Half of the table laughed. Price then took out a cigar.

“Lighter, anyone?” Price asked.

“It’s getting exhausting that you smoke a lot, but rarely keep a lighter on yourself, captain,” you said. “Here, let me light it up for you.”

Except for you and Laswell, the others took a moment of silence when you pulled out your lighter. Their gazes followed the lighter. A flash of a heartbreaking memory was painted in their eyes, unnoticed except for one another.

It was returned to you. Ghost could not live with it anymore. Afterall, he had you again. All the things that used to or still belonged to you would be nothing compared to yourself.

@teamowolverine @lilpothoscuttings

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost #price x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader

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flowerygrdn · 1 year

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WHAT THE FU- || k. parker

pairing: kai x vampire!reader

warnings: swearing, kissing, fluff, obsessive!kai (sort of)

summary: y/n is on her way to the sheriff's funeral when she gets an alarming call from alaric...

a/n: hello, so i used the deleted kai and jo scene for this because, let's face it, that scene deserved kai's redemption.

---

I could hear my heels clicking on the pavement as I walked towards my car. My head was currently tilted downward towards my purse as i was trying to dig out my keys. This is why I need to clean out my shit more often. Aha! I finally found them. After about five minutes of digging.

Suddenly, my phone starts ringing. Now I have to dig that out of my purse. Damn this bag. Once I retrieved my phone from my bag, I saw the screen lit up with Alraic's name across it.

"I know, I'm running late. Can you tell Caro-" I start, but was immediately cut off by Alaric.

"y/n, I need you to get over to Jo's place right now." His voice is urgent and I immediately stop right in my tracks.

"Why? Alaric, I need to be at the funeral right now."

"y/n, just get over here! You'll see why I called you when you do." I didn't know what to do with that. I didn't want to disappoint Caroline by not being there, but Alaric sounds like he's desperate.

"Okay, but I swear to God if it's something stupid, like you got your hand stuck in the sink, I'm gonna be so pissed." I say as I open my car door.

"y/n!"

"Stop your whining, I'm on my way." I hang up and change the gear to drive. Alaric better have a good excuse.

---

I get to Jo's apartment and open the door. I have no clue why it was unlocked. Do they not care about serial killers? My heels click with every stride I take towards the living room and soon enough I'm at the doorway.

"Alright, what was so impor-" I stop in my tracks when I see a devilish smirk from across the room. Along with the stupid expression, I get a little wave. My eyes shoot over to Jo, who's now standing there, giving me a look of pity.

"What the fu-"

"y/n, save it for a better time." Alaric says, putting his hand up to hush me.

A better time? The best time to swear would be right about now. When Kai Parker is standing there, smirking at me.

"This is why you called me here?! Jo can I please kill your fiancé?!" My eyes begin to darken and veins flash under my eyes. My vamp side comes out when I get pissed. Jo immediately comes over to calm me down.

"Okay, calm down. y/n, no one is killing anybody. We just called you over because we knew that if you were here, my asshole of a twin wouldn't try anything." Jo turns her head over her shoulder and sends Kai a glare.

"She's right." Kai shrugs, still not whipping that stupid grin off his face.

"You! I do not want to hear another word out of your mouth!" I demand. His hands go up in defense.

"Yes, ma'am. " he mutters under his breath.

"Why me though?!" I shout some more.

"Because he's obsessed with you." Alaric responds, rubbing his temples. Kai winks at me. I roll my eyes and try to walk out, but Jo pulls me back.

"y/n, please. He claims he's sick, so can you please come with me to my office so we can check him?" Jo's voice makes me calm down a little bit. I've always kind of seen her and Alaric as close friends, family even. So, if me being here ensures their safety, then so fucking be it.

---

Me, Jo, and Kai walk into her office and Jo leads us to one of the rooms.

"Motus!" Jo says as soon as the door closes. I see Kai fly across the room and hit the wall. She then does that one spell that makes your head feel like it's going to explode. It nice to be on the opposite end of that for once.

"Talked to Dad. Guess who's not sick? Him, Liv, and I'm feeling pretty good right now. Which leads me to believe I'm not gonna die anytime soon. So, what's your game?! Tell me!" She shouts.

"I don't have a game!" Kai shouts back. "God!" He shouts again before doing the same spell to her. I fall down next to Jo, grabbing her arm and trying to think of a way to help her. He stops when I make eye contact with him. I'm pretty sure my vampire face flashed because, he looked a little scared.

"As much as my suffering might bring you two pleasure, this is not the way to handle the situation." He stands up and starts towards us. I help Jo to her feet and dust off my dress.

"Is this all just a ploy for you to get more magic?" Jo's tone is an accusing one, and Kai's face twists into a serious one. A face I've never seen before.

"It's a ploy for us all to stay alive, actually. I'm sorry if that seems selfish!"

"I don't believe you! Because you are a liar. And you are the worst kind of liar because your lies sound so much like the truth, it's impossible for me to tell the difference. " That's something me and Jo agree on. No matter what faces I've seen before, Kai has never shown an honest one.

"You're right, I am a liar, alright? I'm the black sheep. You know, the defective twin that nobody wanted." His voice cracks and this gains my attention. Something about me is that, even without compulsion, I can tell when someone is being sincere. And for once, Kai is.

"It must feel real nice for you to stand her, judging me. Surrounded by all the things you got out of life while I spent eighteen years in isolation as the family reject." His eyes flash over to me before returning to Jo. I never thought I'd be saying this right now, but I kind of feel remorse for Kai.

"Let me tell you, every inch of me wants to kill you for that. Every part!" I slowly start to step in front of Jo, but she pulls me behind her instead.

"But I can't. Because the only way that I can survive is if you help me. And I'd like to live, frankly. Because I didn't get to do a whole lot of that before everyone decided that I wasn't worth it."

There it is again. The feeling of remorse for the man in front of me. His words made me realize that he wasn't born a monster. His coven made him that way. All because he was different. Malachai Parker is evil, but maybe there's a part of him that isn't. A part that can consume the evil and make a whole new person.

"I'll give it to you." Jo replied.

"But under one condition. You take it and get out of my life. I never want you anywhere near me again." She spits out.

"Fine."

"I'm not finished. If you break our promise, I'll kill you." My head snaps towards her.

"I'll take myself and our entire coven down with you. Because I don't want to live another minute, afraid of my own brother." I'd never have thought Jo would do that, but given everything Kai did, she has every right. But something inside me hopes, prays even, she never has to do that.

"You got it?"

"Got it." Kai looks over at me again. My eyes have softened, and I'm now starting to see a whole different person when I look at him. He brushes past us and walks out of the door.

---

After Jo gave Kai her magic, He was out the door in a heartbeat. Not before whispering one last thing in her ear. I quickly say my goodbyes and run after him.

"Kai, wait!" He turns around while standing in the middle of the parking lot. His hands are in his pockets, and his lips part at the sight of me lightly jogging. When I stop a few feet away from him, my words suddenly exit my mind. I have no clue what to say.

"You know, I always thought that the only thing that would make me happy was being coven leader." Kai starts. My eyebrows scrunch. I don't know where he intends to go with this.

"The day I met you in the prison world, I started feeling things. After I merged with Luke, I started feeling even more things. And then it dawned on me." He started taking steps towards me. My feet stay planted in the pavement below me and my stomach twist into knots. I don't know what I'm feeling but, I don't want it to stop.

"Sure, being gemini coven leader is amazing. The power, the title, it's all I've ever wanted. But, then I met you. You are what I've always wanted. Well, maybe not always, but from the day that I met you, you were all I wanted, no, needed." He stops in front of me. My breath gets caught in my throat.

"It's always been you, y/n. And I know you hate me. I know I'm just another monster that you and the gang had to face, but to me, you are my world." What is happening right now? Why are his words having this effect on me? Why do I want him closer? What the actual hell?

"When you're happy, I'm happy. When something hurts you, I want to hunt it down and destroy it. So, hate me. Help your friends plot my death. But just know..." His hand comes up to cup my cheek. I flinch, but don't take his hand away. For some weird reason, I like the way his skin feels against mine.

"I'll love you even if I'm in hell." Holy shit.

Kai Parker loves me? How? Why? What the fuck?! Wait...no there's no way...do I love him too? All I've ever felt for him was disgust, but maybe that was just a cover-up. Because what I'm feeling right now didn't just happen within the span of a few hours. I guess it's always been there, I just didn't see it before.

He leans down and kisses my forehead then turns around. He begins to walk away, but I don't want him to. I can't let him.

"Kai!" He stops and turns around again.

I don't think. My body is moving before my mind can process it. My legs are taking long strides, and soon, my arms are thrown around his shoulders, and I'm pulling his head down to mine. Our lips meet in the middle, and his hands quickly find my waist.

Passion. Sparks flying everywhere. That's what I feel when I'm kissing Kai Parker. His hands are moving up and down my back and mine are racking through his hair. We only pull away when we're about to run out of oxygen. We keep our heads rested on each other's and try to steady our breaths.

"I love you, Kai." I feel his arms tighten around my waist. He let's out a breath that sounded like he had been holding in.

"I love you to hell and back, y/n." He says before capturing my lips in another passionate kiss.

---

#kai parker #kai parker x reader #kai parker fluff #kai parker angst #kai parker smut #kai parker fanfiction #kai parker fanfic #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries imagine #tvd #tvdu #for you #emma's bullshit ♡

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hotchfiles · 4 months

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [CHOICELESS HOPE] ❞ — two. one more time.

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader. summary: the moment leading up to the kiss, the drumroll, is as good as the kiss itself. it's certainly more innocent. it's completely harmless. content warnings: very canon divergent because criminal minds timelines fuck me up. emotional cheating (not on reader). no happy ending (for now). angst. right person wrong time. no use of y/n. word count: 700+. a/n: me taking my least engaged fic and making a series out of it? more likely than you think. summary based on himym's victoria and her theory.

previously

Your palms are undeniably sweaty following the anxious feeling you had in the pit of your stomach. After transferring you made a successful career as a profiler for the Crisis Negotiation Unit, so it wouldn’t be the first time seeing Hotchner after all, you saw him at seminars, you read his book, his face and his voice were still a strong presence in your mind.

But being close to him, talking to him, working with him again… That was making your mind swirl. The BAU needed a senior profiler, again. You had rejected the transfer at least two times before and the upper ups found someone else for the job. Not this time, this time you had no choice.

You try to feel comfortable on his office’s couch, looking around to notice the little things before him and the rest of the team arrive, profiling each other wasn’t very well seen in the BAU, you remember that much from your years there, but you knew Hotch, you were just basking at the familiarity his office brought you.

Pictures of him with his son, his late ex wife, awards, piles of cases organized. It all pointed to him being more serious than when you worked together first. It made sense not only considering what he had been through, but his nearly obsessive nature.

Throat cleaning is the sound that brings you back, his face lighting up when he notices it’s you, but letting the smile disappear seconds later. “It’s been a while. how can I help you?”

Oh. Politeness. The tone. Not asking how you are. He’s mad. Possibly because you never called. Never answered his calls. Never talked to him when he was around your unit. Always sent other agents when the BAU needed negotiators. You made impossible efforts to avoid him. And yet here you were, in his office.

“I get that you haven’t looked into your new profiler’s paperwork.” You were always snarky and that made him huff trying to hide a laugh. He didn’t have to look at the paperwork to know you wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t mandatory. “You look good, big office, the suit. It fits you.”

He stays silent, and you wish you could read his mind like you did before, but it was different now, all you could read from him was how… Sore he was in your presence. Like you were there just to cut open old wounds. You couldn’t blame him, you prided yourself of being his best friend for so long and sure it was a weird gray area you both danced in, but he got divorced, was stabbed countless times, Haley was murdered, you never even called. You couldn’t even pretend you didn’t know, you kept in touch with Rossi.

He moves to his desk, sitting and looking through your paperwork without much care, enough that he caught you staring at the picture he had of Haley, Jack and him by the bookshelf behind him. “You didn’t come to the funeral.”

“Dave told me to go, but… It felt disrespectful to Haley.” Hotchner takes a deep breath, it finally hitting him that at least there and then it wasn’t about avoiding him, it was about Haley, as it was when you left Quantico. He didn’t want to hurt her, you didn’t want to disrespect her, that was always the central point of why you two couldn’t be. That relaxes his demeanor, his features soften. Your heart beats faster.

“Think you can handle BAU rhythm after a decade away?” He smirks, that one you know so well, that one that meant trouble. And he finally looks up from the file, locking eyes with you.

“You should be worried about keeping up with me.” And just like that it feels like you’re ten years younger, flirting with your partner, hoping he will flirt back. And by the look he gives you, it almost seems like he would if his phone didn’t ring, getting his attention away from you in a flash of a second.

Got caught up, will be there soon, yeah, love you too.

“Sorry, that was my–my girlfriend, Beth. I have to get going, see you tomorrow?” You nodded, chewing the inside of your cheek for some relief.

10 years. 10 years of running from it. Just to get back exactly where you started: At the BAU, heart out for Hotchner when he couldn’t take it.

So much for keeping your FBI career and not going against orders.

#lari writes sometimes #aaron x reader #aaron x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario

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diyahatnight · 1 year

Text

Warnings: This is smut with a bit of dialogue, so read with caution. Nothing too crazy though. Angst, nd smut all in one.

Minor’s dni

angst/fluff version

Xiao x F!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend lost his memory of you so you have to find a way to help him get it back. on your knees giving him a blow job.

Notes: I haven’t written smut in a while so i’m a little rusty.

Your boyfriend has a job, and that job is protecting Liyue and staying loyal to Morax aka Zhongli. He told you that he would be leaving to go on a trip with Zhongli, and you didn’t mind. You didn’t have anything to worry about since he would be with an archon. Plus he is a strong man himself.

2 months go by without seeing Xiao and Zhongli. You went to the funeral parlor to see if he had returned and hu-tao told you he was still gone. You started to worry but not much because he never mentioned how long he would be gone.

More days pass by without seeing your boyfriend until one day you hear a knock at the door. You go to open it and you see Zhongli and your boyfriend at the door. You greet Zhongli first, then you run to give a hug to Xiao but for some odd reason, he backed away.

You both looked at Zhongli, Xiao’s look was more of a ‘why is this crazy woman running after me’ and yours was ‘with.”

He explained to you that during this trip, they encountered some fighting. He almost got hit by some odd beam and Xiao being Xiao, he jumped in its way erasing every memory he’s had of you and with you.

He then had to explain to Xiao that you were his girlfriend of 5 years and you were gonna help and try getting his memory back. Then he left.

You told him to come inside the house and he obliged. You showed him many things to see if he’d remember any of them and he didn’t. You showed him photos and the clothes in your shared closet. You even showed him something explicit and all he did was blush and disappear.

It’s been a month since he’s lost his memory and it’s a nightmare. He won’t even touch you. You’ve spent nights crying yourself to sleep because you aren’t making any progress. You’ve been together for 5 years and it only took a month to get him to at least kiss you and put his arms around your body.

After about 3 months you had him opened up. He was a sweet, caring, touchy, talkative, and sexual lover boy. But now it just feels like it’s all been thrown away.

it feels like he’s been forced to date you and that didn’t sit right in your tummy.

but one night Xiao goes into your home to pick up something of his. You were on your last limb, you didn’t know what to do you just wanted your boyfriend back. You were going to get married one day.

You stood up out of bed and when he saw this he started to walk away. was he avoiding you?

“Wait please, don’t leave. I need you.”

You desperately say and he stops walking and turns to face you. You walk closer to him and when you meet face to face, you burst into tears and drop to your knees.

“Please I’m begging you you please remember me. I don’t want to lose you. I need you.”

You bury your head into his thigh as you say this and it shocks him but he doesn’t go anywhere, or say anything. You sit there crying for a minute then look up.

When you look up, you notice that you are face to face with his sensitive area. You wipe your tears as you start to get an idea. He knew that you begged for a lot and that you had your specific way of begging your boyfriend for stuff.

You start to pull on the rim of his pants because it was worth a shot.

“What are you doing, mortal-… girlfriend I suppose.”

“I’m about to show you something that may help you remember if that’s okay with you?”

He shook his head yes, in his defense he had no idea what you were gonna do. Even after his soft cock flopped out of his pants he still had no idea what was happening until you started placing soft kisses on it to get it hard. sending shivers down his spine.

“W-what are you doing?” he says holding his breath.

You knew how to get him turned on. Rubbing his thigh, running your hands down his chest, kissing his neck, or wearing something revealing. If regular Xiao was here, the little kisses on his cock would be a death sentence for you.

After those 3 small kisses, xiao was rock hard. Before he met you he knew what sex was but he didn’t know how it worked as he wasn’t experienced so he was kinda confused but kinda curious.

You planted your signature kiss directly on his angry blushing pink tip, already leaking pre cum. You grabbed his shaft and started licking along his cock, his breathing starting to hitch.

You stuff half of his dick in your mouth, licking it in the meantime. Then you push his entire cock down your throat. Earning a cute breathy moan from him.

You take his cock out of your mouth and start to lick at it again, you can tell he is starting to get frustrated by the way it starts to twitch in your grasp. You shove his entire length down your throat again and start to fuck him with your throat, gagging and choking on his cock.

At this time he is moaning and groaning. He starts to remember a couple of things and when he does he grabs onto your hair to take control of throat fucking you. You tap on him to get him to pull you off and allow you to get some air which he did.

After, he pushed your head back down on his cock desperately fucking your throat trying to chase his orgasm. You look at him from that angle of you on your knees, mouth stuffed full of his cock. You noticed his golden eyes start to pierce into your own and that’s when more memories started rushing back to him, mostly the explicit ones of you. He throws his head back tightening his grasp on your hair like he’s about to cum, moaning louder.

In an instant he pulls you off his cock and looks down at you. That's how you notice that a lot of his memories have returned by the way he admires the slobber on your mouth and his cock.

He sits down on the bed still staring at you. His hand lets go of your hair to balance himself on the bed. He’s remembered everything, good memories, bad memories, sexual memories, them all. That doesn’t mean he wanted you to stop.

He uses his hand again to push your face back down to his cock, before you start sucking on his pretty penis again, you flash a quick smile at him.

In a quick motion, you shove his length back down your throat which earns a small moan and a breathy whimper. Your sucking on his cock so eagerly which eventually gets him to shoot his warm thick cum in your mouth.

Pulling back up off his shaft, you swallow his orgasm. which causes him to say.

“Ew, you didn’t have to swallow it..” with a very tiny smirk.

“I wanted to though,” you say as he uses his thumb to get the cum that lingers in the corner of your mouth and pushes that thumb past your lips for you to suck it clean…

I might make another version of this but a fluff

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact xiao #xiao #xiao smut #genshin impact smut #xiao x reader #xiao x reader smut #genshin impact drabble #genshin impact headcanons

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tlou-reid · 6 months

Text

Timeless ❆ Aaron Hotchner

☃︎ SUMMARY: a timeline of Aaron’s and his soulmates’ love life.

☃︎WARNINGS: random asshole character at the beginning, aaron and jack being cuties, death and mentions of an undisclosed illness, a funeral :(

.｡❅⋆⍋∞｡∞⍋⋆❅｡.

“We would have been timeless, ‘cause I believe that we were supposed to find this. So, even in a different life, you still would've been mine. We would've been timeless.”

Day One

“Aaron!” the barista called into the busy cafe, setting down a carrier of four drinks. His name was quickly sketched across all four, signifying his loss to the team.

Aaron, Penelope, JJ and Luke had made a bet that Aaron would have a home cooked meal for five out of the seven days they were in town. He’d caved on day four, getting home late and craving the acidic burn of pizza sauce and greasiness of mozzarella cheese. He couldn’t help himself, forgetting all about the silly bet he’d made.

He remembered in the morning when he came eye to eye with the Italian man on the pizza place’s logo. Aaron figured it would be easier to just come in with their prize, coffees from Penelope’s favorite local place, and accept defeat than have to confront each of them.

So, he picks up his tray with a sigh and continues his way to his car, hoping to get to the BAU as soon as possible.

However, this would prove difficult. Aaron is shocked to see a big SUV blocking him in, and a lady jumping out of it. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!” She yelled into the open door, slamming it at the end of her sentence. Aaron could see the passenger side window roll down. He heard a man’s voice this time, with a much darker, violent tone, “YOU SHOULD’VE THOUGHT ABOUT IT BEFORE YOU GOT IN THE CAR, BITCH!”

The law enforcement officer in Aaron kicked in when he heard the foul names being thrown towards this lady. She was gearing up to retaliate, but he stepped in front of her. Aaron used his free hand to quickly pull out his badge. It was a bit clumsily, due to the weight of the coffees in his other hand.

Once he was standing protectively in front of the lady and had his badge on full display, Aaron spoke, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave before you cause a further public disturbance.” His voice was low, the same way he talked to suspect. “Oh, fuck you.” The man said one last time, making eye contact with the lady, before pulling off.

“Are you okay?” Aaron turned around to face the lady. “Yeah, the guy’s just an asshole. Fucking offers me a ride and thinks that means he’s getting laid?” You’re rambling at this point, aggravated at the entire situation. “Where are you trying to go?” His entire plan of getting to work quickly went out the window when he saw how beautiful your eyes were.

“I work at the office around the block. I usually drive but someone hit my car yesterday and it’s in the shop today,” Aaron was growing more and more concerned with your wellbeing as you spoke, “I’m just gonna walk. Thanks for taking care of that asshole, I can’t believe I’m gonna have to see him later.”

Aaron knows he should probably walk away, but he can’t stop himself from asking, “See him later?” You nod, “He’s my fucking neighbor. Sorry, I don’t usually cuss this much, he just really pissed me off.” Aaron laughs at this, seeing as the first thing he heard you say was “fucking asshole”.

“You’re sure you don’t need a ride?” He asks one more time. “No, I could probably use the walk to cool off some. Thank you,” Your voice trailed off, not knowing what to call him. He stuck his hand out for you to shake, “Aaron.” He filled in the blank for you.

You told him your name, shook his hand, and bid him goodbye. You made it maybe six steps before you turned back around, “Aaron!” You hollered, walking quickly to catch up to him. “I know this is bold and I don’t even know if you’re single, but you were very kind and I think you’re very good looking. Could I get your number maybe?”

Aaron meets you with a laugh. You’re wary, not knowing that a laugh from Aaron was extremely rare, and something a lot of people would kill to hear. Your nerves are eased when he says, “I’d love to give you my number.”

Day 16

The night was going wonderfully. Aaron was proving that chivalry was, in fact, not dead. Just lost in older men. He was comfortable meeting you at the restaurant, he pulled out your chair for you, ordered a bottle of the fancy wine the restaurant carried, and was currently sliding his credit card into the check holder.

The conversation between you two flowed beautifully all night, making it seem like time flew by. He signed the bottom of the receipt, leaving a very generous cash tip, and turned his attention towards you. “Ready to go?” Aaron asked, not wanting to rush you away. You gave him a shy nod, trying to figure out a way to say you want to see him again soon without sounding obsessed.

Aaron stood and you followed, interlocking your arm with his. You two walked out of the restaurant, only letting each other go when he held the door for you. “Which one’s yours?” He asked, wanting to walk you to your car. You held out the key, clicking the lock button to get it to light up.

Aaron walked you over, opening the driver’s side door for you. “Look at her!” You squealed, excited for him to see your car, “Fresh out of the shop!” Aaron laughed at your excitement. Once you were comfortable in your seat and buckled up, Aaron went to speak again.

“I had fun,” He smiled at you. “I did, too.” You replied. “Would you like to do it again, sometime?” He asked, fumbling over his word a bit. You couldn’t help but find the way you made him nervous adorable.

“I would love to, whenever you’re free.” He’d told you about how hectic his work life could get, which you understood. “I’ll call you.” He promised, getting ready to close the door. “Goodnight, Aaron.” He gave you once last smile, repeated your sentiment, and closed the door for you.

Day 102

“Why’d you pick him?” Aaron’s son, Jack asked. “Jack!” Aaron laughed, loading up spaghetti noodles on his plate.

It’s your first time meeting Jack. You were both scared and excited, not knowing how he would react to Aaron bringing home a new girlfriend. “He protected me the first time I met him, I felt like I owed him.” You joked as Aaron passed you the pasta. You smiled when Jack let out a loud laugh.

Dinner continued like this, with teasing and laughter. You felt incredibly welcomed in the Hotchner household, loving the energy both of the boys created. You fit like a missing puzzle piece, being able to help Jack team up on his dad, and be there when Aaron was feigning sadness at one his jokes. Plus, both of them were happy to have a home cooked meal for the first time in about a week. Jack even said you could come over whenever you wanted, as long as you cooked.

“I think he likes you,” Aaron said as he climbed into bed next to you, later that night. “I think so, too. We laughed a lot.” Aaron nodded, moving over to press a kiss to the side of your head.

“Welcome to the family,” He muttered as he wiggled down into the blankets, falling asleep quickly.

Day 1534

“I do.” You said as you slid the ring onto Aaron’s finger, missing the first time due the tears welling up in your eyes.

Everyone seated for the ceremony cheered as the pastor said, “You may kiss the bride!” Aaron pulled you in by your waist, pressing himself as close as possible to you. The kiss was appropriate, considering there was a crowd watching, but full of love.

After you pulled away, you moved yourself behind Aaron, pulling his best man in for a big hug. Jack smiled against your neck, squeezing you tight. You grabbed one his hands, and one of Aaron, walking back down the aisle with both of them by your side.

“Mr., Mr., and Mrs. Hotchner,” Jessica smiled, introducing you three to the reception. You were ready to dance and celebrate with the people you loved most in the world. And you were so excited to share their last name.

Day 12152

You had always hoped it would be you to pass first. Something easy for Aaron, Jack, and his children to handle. Passing away in your sleep, peacefully and free of pain.

But, wishes are rarely granted. You were sat next to Aaron when he passed. As hard as his battle with illness had been, he fought as best he could. You knew he’d spent his whole life fighting, so you, as sad as you were, you relieved to know he was somewhere safe and relaxing. Somewhere where there was no fight to be had.

He would be surrounded by people he loved, more than he had around him in his old age now.

Jack held you tight at the funeral, knowing you were heartbroken. Part of him was relieved too. His father was no longer in pain. When he knelt at his dad’s casket, he made one last promise to look over you. To take care of you, to love you, and to protect you, just as Aaron had done since the day he met you.

You weren’t too worried about it, though. You knew you’d join him when the time was right, and he would be waiting for you. You two were meant to be, even if you’d met late in life. No matter how long it took, or where you guys were, you and Aaron would find each other.

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blueberryarchive · 6 months

Text

(18+, non-con, smut, mentions of death)

Sigh, it seemed like you were a teenager again. All the time with this eternal and lethargic tiredness, the light nose wrinkled in disgust with everything and everyone, the shoulders hunched in search of angst. You had screamed a few minutes ago, to be left alone, that the damn constant questionnaire was driving you crazy. No, you didn't know if you wanted to wear the cotton dress or the suede one, or if the sunglasses were too big, you didn't care.

You had screamed a few minutes ago, and now only the immense and regurgitating loneliness of your closet accompanied you. It was raining heavily outside, but the closed windows didn't let you hear its sweet fall. Everything was abhorrent: another phrase you would have said when you were fourteen.

You don't know what your husband saw in you the first time you met, but none of that mattered anymore. His opinion was about to be buried next to his disfigured, hand-stitched, suit-clad body. As if he were a rag doll.

The door opened after two firm knocks. There he was, the only person you could stand at the moment: Jeon Jungkook, your husband's servant.

"Were you looking for me, My Lady?" His voice, abrupt and strong as a brick, warmed your burning head. Turning thoughts into a nebulous collection.

You nodded.

"I can't manage to do the only thing that is asked of me in this house." Your frustrating laugh didn't contort Jungkook's face in grief. That's why you needed him, you were tired of the probing around you and the way they spoke softly as if you were going to break.

"It's not like it's easy on such a surreal day."

"I thought he would die in a bed like all the men in his family." Your gaze drifted to the geometric figures on the carpet. Jungkook closed the door behind him, working on looking for a black dress suitable for the situation. "I thought," you continued, "that like the other wives, I would be at his side before he closed his eyes, that his children would be able to see him and remember his last smile." You shook your head, biting your thumb. "You cannot blame yourself for the circumstances, My Lady." Jungkook pointed to the armoire behind you, where there were three options, all daring in some way or another, but it's not like you were someone above those options.

"Besides, it's not like, with all due respect, you and Mr. Bass were an ordinary couple."

"Indeed." You were a young woman, he was old and rich. Everyone talked, laughed, cried, joked, and threatened about it in his family.

You pointed your finger at the dress on the left.

"You'll need a corset for that," Jungkook murmured and turned around to look for the best option for that dress.

Hands are next to the mirror, your mouth slightly open as you feel your skin and bones tighten beneath the fabric. Behind you, Jungkook used his thin, fine fingers to adjust the corset a little more. He looked from time to time at your reflection in search of a reaction, of pain, but you endured the molding of your bones like a champ.

"You can tell me if it's too tight, My Lady." You shook your head and raised a hand, signaling for him to finish before you regretted choosing a type of dress that needed that kind of torture. When finished, he created a delicate bow.

The whole morning had been torture for you: the funeral arrangements, your parents' faces full of melancholy, having to console your husband's children, the sorrowful voices of your maids when they tried to serve you tea or find a way for you to eat. Like you were a girl, it was horrible. That's why Apolonia and Gretchen weren't in your exaggerated closet with you, but rather your deceased husband's servant. Jungkook was a young boy, considering the fact that everyone in that mansion was in their 50s or older, men and women who raised each Bass since they were old enough to properly hold a child.

Jungkook was young, like you, the two of you were barely six years apart. You had an obvious interest in men older than you, Jungkook was like a child the first night your husband brought him to introduce you three years ago. His eyes were always wide open, lips always a little parted, alert and helpful. He was adorable.

But the man behind you was physically stronger, his long hair was tied up in a low bun, and his way of speaking was more fluid and assertive. He always said the right thing, it made your nipples hurt, and your heart fluttered between his words.

"Would you like some kind of stocking for the dress?"

"No, I think I'll go with high boots."

"Very well, My Lady." While you were putting on the dress in front of the mirror, Jungkook didn't move from his spot, half of his body reflected next to you, hands behind his back and a little erratic with his gaze. "Everything okay, Jungkook?" The man lowered his face, a shameful laugh.

"I'm sorry, it's just that from here you can see the place where Mr. Bass died. I can't imagine how much he suffered-" he sealed his lips with red cheeks. "I'm sorry, My Lady. It's insensitive to talk about something so brutal in front of you."

"No, please." You tried to smile. "It's not like the police didn't give me the raw details the next morning, the photos are still tattooed on my retina."

The face was chewed beyond recognition, and parts of the eyebrow and forehead were torn to the bone. Evidence of dental markings on the zygomatic bone and mental foramen.

You read the reports with your breakfast while the police questioned you about your relationship with Mr. Bass, the dogs in the house, and your opinion of his friends, his servants, and coworkers.

"I found it very unusual that you did not go through the garden to our farmer's cottage that day."

"The sun was at its highest point, and I felt like I was fainting every time I got out of bed."

"I understand." It was the only thing he said, he laughed at your response and you frowned, your skin crawling from the new questioning of your person.

"How do you know I go every day?"

"The farmer and I are very good friends, after your visits in the afternoons the smell of vanilla remains on the furniture when I visit the farmer at night for dinner."

"And how do you know I didn't go that afternoon?" You turned around, neck held high, aristocratic arrogance within you searching for what Jungkook truly wanted to say.

"The smell was not even on the pages of the book laid out on Mr. Bell's table. Your favorite book."

Your eyelids fluttered softly, deadly. You smiled.

"Go get my gloves, the long suede ones." You said in the softest tone possible.

Jungkook obeyed, covering each finger in the soft fabric.

"I know what you did to Mr. Bass." The voice was barely a trickle as he finished putting on the gloves, his large hands caressing the suede on your arm as if massaging the information into you.

You didn't know what to say. You swallowed deeply before snatching your arm from his caress, he stood there without stopping looking at you. It made you nauseous.

"It's not my duty to tell you the morality of your choices, but we can say that I agree with your decision, My Lady." He gets close, trying to finish the buttons of the dress with steady hands. "Even though Mister Ron and Master Edward will suffer greatly from the loss of their dear father."

"They will be fine, they will go to therapy." You were quick to answer.

"Of course. Nothing you can't solve. Turn around."

You were the one to obey this time. You stay still, looking at his reflection, waiting for the police to come in when your tongue accidentally slips the fact that you were the one who left the door open of the three beautiful Rottweilers, that you were the one that pointed and gave the distinct whistle for the three dogs to attack your husband.

"But you must know, My Lady." He licked his lips, thinking very well what he was about to say. "I won't fill My Lord's position in any shape or form, that's out of the question." The air was filled with a deep smell of roses, lilies, and all types of flowers that were arranged in every corner of the closet, its pungent smell making you a little dizzy.

"But I hope you know that I'll be here, always." His hand trailed, wandering off to your snatched and whalebone-molded waist. "In one way or another."

"Is this a proposal, Mr. Jeon? If it is, I can assure you this is very inappropriate and vulgar."

He opens his doe eyes, and a gloved and pristine hand reaches his chest. "Oh, My Lady, I'm so sorry. A simple mistake."

Another step, closer. Closer than ever in the last three years. It felt like a big and broad wall was destroyed in front of your eyes. Everything felt a little smaller around you, his face was more detailed and you couldn't smell those damn roses anymore.

"This is not an indecorous offer, but more of a negotiation."

"Is this about money?"

He seemed offended by your question.

"This is about information, my dear."

You tremble, your husband used to call you that when he was in a good mood. Now it felt like a threat in the honeyed voice of your dearest butler. "It's about you having the ability to negotiate and give me a great price for my silence."

He lifted your chin and took the plum lipstick sitting in your cabinet. He opened his mouth slightly, and you mirrored his face. The thick paste settled in your quivering lips as he dragged along the stick. "Now I know it was Mr. Bass' skill being the one who does... did, business. But I know you didn't study the same career as him just so you can sit around with that kind of information. Just to end up being the one who changes the colors and textures of the curtains in the mansion every season, to make tea parties and charities."

"I'm glad with the life I was given." Your voice shakes, and your eyes cannot stop drinking every little piece of heaven that made his face.

"I don't know what shoes to put on." You tried to sound as normal as you could.

"I'll help you with that, My Lady." You took a sit on the leather couch while he opened your wardrobe, dozens of shoes for every occasion and others to create them. "And no, I know you abhor the life you were, not given, but placed upon you like a rock you must climb to the top over and over again." He took a Miu Miu black pair of stilettos, and he smiled while putting the heels on your feet. "Like a feminine, aristocratic Sysiphus"

"How dare you?" Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, and you stood up with a growing pain in your stomach. Now you think about not remembering the last time you properly ate, besides cigarettes and an occasional toast.

"I dare because I know, not only about your boycott but about how you feel about me."

"Oh, please." You laughed so hard you worried the servants outside might hear you. Your trembling hands trying to put on a subtle silver necklace. Taken back when the rough hand made you turn around, the other pressing hard on your cheeks to see him, your fragile body falling to the couch next to you.

"I've seen you looking, I've seen what you read and what you wrote in your journal; read every page of that day. That summer in the chateau by the lake. You couldn't stop thinking about me, finding me in the bathtub jerking off." He laughed erratically. "I read every little note you made about it: the length, the girth, your opinions on my crooked moans. A very thorough essay, I must add."

"If you keep talking I will yell and tell everyone that you tried to rape me." This was absolutely ridiculous. So ridiculous that both of you went completely silent.

You never thought you could say something like that, even less to Jungkook, who respected you more than anyone else in the Bass house. You were a pariah because of your age, because your husband found you on vacation, and when he got home he already signed all the papers to make you his Lady. Almost 28 years apart, but you loved him more than yourself...until you didn't. Until he started treating you like he treated every ex-wife, but he fucked up; and know the coffin must be a closed one because the lovely Nova took a bite at his cheek, leaving the teeth exposed with a wide smile, the eye came out of his socket; the cops never found it.

The stoic expression Jungkook ported broke, shattered into pieces by the force of his sudden laughter; leaving you awestruck by his decadent beauty and the raw force of his devilish smile.

His long legs started getting closer in elongated steps, your nails digging into the fleshy brown of the leather couch when he got so close to your ear that the warm mist coming out of his lips made you tremble.

"I dare you."

The outline of a scream was the only thing you could create before your butler's hand sealed every orifice, you couldn't breathe. You fell to the floor trying to crawl, his knee pressing into your lower back until your entire body was flat on the carpet.

"Sh, sh, sh. Don't make this any harder than it should be."

You heard the ripping of your underwear, the corset stabbing into your lungs, causing the edges of your vision to turn black.

"God, you're wet." He said it as a surprise, expecting you to be a tough catch.

You shook your head, gasping for air, your nails useless with the gloves. His index finger moved so that you could breathe, the air entering and leaving your pits with a cry.

The sting of his cock entering your pussy made you scream, your body felt trapped between Jungkook's weight and yet you tried like a caterpillar to get out of its confines. You denied and denied and more juice came out of your pussy with each crash, it was sinful.

"Open that little hole for me, I'm going to do what your husband couldn't do."

You opened your eyes when you felt the hot liquid run down your thighs and into your dress. You grabbed Jungkook's hand when the brush of the carpet against your clit betrayed you and your pussy started pumping his cum out. A spanking, you moaned, raising your ass in the air looking for more.

"We could have done this like civilized people, but you never understand." He whispered in your ear before turning you around. A soft kiss to your needy lips, the hand-painted on your skin. You closed your eyes, letting your back arch at the strange sensation of being kissed with so much love.

"What I do not understand?" You whispered, brittle.

"Now that you have killed your husband, you have destroyed the only wall that protected you, which means you are just one more object in this mansion full of monsters that all they want is to kill you." His explanation was expressed so lovingly, that the caress on your cheek made two tears fall to your temples. "And I'm going to take advantage of how little you will be now. Like a hole in a wall, just a fucking bother." Another kiss, wet lips molded in heaven, the dark stains from your lipstick leaving evidence.

His smile warmed your chest, it sounded divine. To belong.

ps: gotta be honest with you, chief. this fic is not it for me but i felt like i had to write something, even though words are difficult for me. if you have some constructive criticism, please go ahead. as always thanks for reading, bisou.

#jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook x oc #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook x y/n #bts au #bts x you #bts

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lunavrse · 5 months

Text

PURELY PLATONIC(?)

CHARLES LECLERC

summary : are yn and charles dating? are they just friends? who cares? well, twitter does. category : smau. note : disregard all times and dates, they don't matter. all spelling mistakes are intentional. this wasn't supposed to be my 1st fic posted but it is what it is.

INSTAGRAM

like by pierregasly, youruser, landonorris and 658 422 others.

charles_leclerc finally got to see ma crevette

View all 2 172 comments

youruser thought we'd agreed that you'd never call that in public ever again

charles_leclerc no, you said that, i was silent

user2 were you silent or were you silenced😭

youruser you're such a pain in my arse

charles_leclerc you love me really

youruser unfortunately

username67 SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP SOBBING

user08 they're so friends to lovers coded

username12 SHE DIDN'T DISAGREE!!!

pierregasly didn't you see her 2 months ago? when you flew out to see her

charles_leclerc that was forever ago

pierregasly *cough*whipped*cough*

this comment was deleted by creator

user8 I SAW THAT, YOU CANT HIDE FROM ME

user92 HE FLEW OUT TO SEE HER😭😭

user5 did anyone see pierres deleted comment or was it just me?

user16 no, I saw it too

user7 me too!

landonorris relax bro, no one's taking her away from you

charles_leclerc I'd like to see someone try lol

user99 adding lol to the end of your sentence didn't make it less threatening 💀

user420 *joker voice* why so serious??

user111 LANDO, WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THIS??? ANSWER ME PLS, I AM IN YOUR WALLS

lunavrse pls pretend the manips look good👍 also the last one is just a random picture bc I couldn't edit it the way I wanted

user25 what the fuck are you on about?

user72 what is bro yapping about?❗💀

user7 WHO LET BLUD COOK⁉️❓❗❗

user222 monaco's finest😋

user00 them in the 1st pic have my heart

user000 UGH,, HIS DIMPLES!!!!

mutualfriend she's serving and then there's you

user777 two pretty best friends🤭

user66 two besties😁

user33 yeah... besties...

user92 REUNITED AND IT FEELS SO GOOD...

user29 REUNITED CAUSE WE UNDERSTOOD

user929 i love this song

user127 I KNOW Y'ALL SEE THE "MY" INFRONT OF THE PETNAME

user24 WE LOVE TO SEE IT

user9 that's honestly so fucking cute I'm crying

user88 charles repping ferrari where ever he goes!!!

user237 suprised it's only the one tbh

user228 as he should!!!

user1616 THE WAY HES LOOKING AT HER😭😭😭

user090 face cards never declining ❗

user10 charlito te amo❤️ !!!

user47 never knew i needed this until now

user74 so real bro

user27 please back away from my wife, it's hard enough seeing her with another man and you have the audacity to rub it in my face😭

user123 two best friends in a room... they might kiss

user262 can we talk about how close they are??? like they just seem so touchy!!!

user751 no fr!!! you can't tell me they're not in love with one another

user12 see if he was touching me like this, you'd never see me again because I'd be deceased

user61 so real of you tbh

user767 pls they're so...

user50 im not allowed to see these, im unwell

user44 you look so cute !

TWITTER

MESSAGES

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

landonorris has posted to their instagram story.

you replied to their story.

YOU DUMB BITCH DELETE THIS ⤷landonorris SORRY, IT WAS MEANT FOR MY CLOSE FRIENDS

you replied to their story.

DELETE THIS YOU CLOWN ⤷landonorris DONT YELL AT ME! I'LL DO IT NOW

you replied to their story.

is that charles and yn

lunavrse replied to their story.

this is the worst manip in this post<3 (editing note: it's actually not, it gets worse)

you replied to their story.

LANDO IS THAT CHARLES AND YN

you replied to their story.

Lando mate, they're gonna kill you

you replied to their story.

I KNEW IT, MY FAMILY SAID I WAS CRAZY AND THEY CAN KISS MY ASS

you replied to their story.

Carlos owes me €100, I knew it'd be you. can't wait to attend your funeral

this story has been deleted

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, landonorris and 712 273 others

youruser suprise but not really🎉

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landonorris does this mean I get to live?

youruser you're funny.

landonorris what do you mean?!? please don't kill me

youruser see you soon x

charles_leclerc we look so good❤️

youruser the best baby❤️

user19 BABY SHHSHSHE

user91 IM SCREAMING, CANT BELIEVE I GET TO SEE THIS

pierregasly glad i don't have to suffer alone and the rest of the world gets to see how gross you guys are

charles_leclerc weren't you the one who sent me a voice note crying about how happy you were when i told you i finally asked her out ?

youruser aww, pierre, you cried???

pierregasly he's lying

charles_leclerc do you want me to send her the voice note?

user65 it's quiet, ain't no back talk🤭

user80 charles said, i've got receipts bitch💀💀

user71 THEY LOOK GOOD TOGETHER!!!

user22 idk who i want more

user505 me and who?

user005 me n u?

user505 lol no

user101 IMS O USED TO GIVING ANDN OW I GET TO RECEIVE 🥹

user41 PARENTS

user14 IKTR😌

user06 IM SO GLAD WE GOT (OFFICIAL) CONFIRMATION

user003 god, me when?

user79 i want both of 'em😋

user25 I need to know when this happened 😭

user87 same😭

#lunavrse writes(?)⋆#charles leclerc x reader #f1 smau #f1 instagram au #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc imagine #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #f1 imagine #cl16 x reader #f1 fic

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thefallennightmare · 7 months

Text

Just Pretend-seven

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: please know, I do try really hard to get updates out every day but sometimes life happens. This story is so so important, I'm taking my time writing each chapter; especially since each chapter has been at least 7k words. Anway, enjoy!

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond

JOLLY

I stood in front of the coffee maker in our little makeshift kitchen on our bus as I waited for the coffee to brew. The usual cup I drank my coffee in hung from my fingers as I held it up in the air, the black letters spelling my name read upside down. There were deep brown stains etched into the ceramic and I mumbled to myself that I should wash it.

Once the coffee was poured over the old stains, I eased onto the couch while browsing through the emails in my inbox. Even though Finding God Before God Finds Me was released last year, the record label was pressuring us to write the next album which is the email I was reading right now. Matt told them that once the tour was over, we'd buckle down and start but that didn't seem to satisfy them.

A humming tune filtered from the back of the bus and I quickly recognized it as Noah. He was humming a tune that wasn't familiar to me and I leaned on my knees so I could look back into the bunk area of the bus, smirking when I saw him dancing; the tune getting louder.

Someone's in a good mood.

Ever since he and Y/N returned from the funeral a few days ago, Noah's spirits were surprisingly lifted. We were afraid he would come back in a catatonic state but he had a large smile on his face. They wouldn't say it but we knew something happened while they were gone.

Noah finally caught my amused expression, and he stilled, a red hue crossing over his cheeks. "I didn't know you were awake."

I hummed while taking a long sip of coffee. "Care to explain what has you in a jolly mood?"

He rolled his eyes while throwing a shirt at me. "Your dad jokes are getting worse."

"Avoiding the subject, I see," I teased while catching the shirt.

Noah shut himself in the bathroom but not before flipping me off.

NOAH

Shaking out the water from my hair, I stepped into the front area of the bus, not surprised to see Chase and Malcolm lounging on our couches. We just arrived to the venue but didn't have to worry about soundcheck until way later so we planned on hanging out on the busses. I noted how close the two of them sat next to each other, Chase's knee bumping with Malcolm's.

"You two should travel with us at this point since you're always here," I joked while grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and sitting next to Nick at the dinette table.

"If we could talk Y/N into it, we would," Malcolm grumbled.

Looking closer at them, I noticed the bruised knuckles on both of their hands.

"What the hell happened?"

Chase rubbed his head. "The other night, we got into it with Trey. We were tired of watching him treat Y/N like how he has and had enough."

I let out a low whistle while my heart hammered in my chest at hearing her name. "I'd hate to see what he looks like."

"Let's just say he's lucky he had a few days off to lick his wounds," Malcolm said.

"Where's Y/N, anyway?" Folio asked while sitting next to Jolly.

Malcolm drummed his fingers over his thigh as he sat back against the couch. "She's locked herself in her bunk because she doesn't want anyone to see her."

"Did something happen?" I rushed out in one breath while grabbing the water bottle tightly, the loud crackling noise echoing throughout the bus.

"She's fine. Actually, more than fine. She's in such a great mood she's been humming around the bus a lot lately. I think she's working on a new song," Chase said.

My stomach burned with the best intensity knowing that I was the reason for that.

"But the reason she doesn't want to see anyone is because she's afraid you guys will make a big deal out of today," Malcolm added.

"What's today?" I asked with a raised brow.

"It's her birthday," Chase informed.

Nick and I shared a look, almost immediately thinking the same thought.

"Text her and tell her you need to show her something inside the venue," I nodded towards Chase.

With his phone in his hand, fingers typing away, he still shot me a weary look. "What are you planning, Noah?"

I stood from the table and looked towards Folio. "Text Matt and say we need to borrow the van again today."

He winced. "He's still pretty upset about the sand in the van. I don't know if he'll let us."

"Matt will get over it," I shrugged while rummaging through my suitcase to grab a few things. "We're not going to let her spend her birthday alone on the tour bus."

Chase and Malcolm rose and muttered something under their breath to themselves before the latter ran a hand through his long auburn hair.

"It seems like you've got something planned but if I can suggest something?"

I set the beanie on top of my head and then nodded. "Of course."

"There's this Dasio store in town that she not so subtly brought up on the way here," Malcolm said.

"Oh, the one in that little outlet mall in town? It had the jewelry store right next to it? I saw it," Nick said nodding.

Chase held up his phone towards us. "She wants to know what I want to show her inside the venue."

Shit, I thought she'd take the bait.

I shrugged on my black hoodie. "I guess we'll have to do this the hard way."

Everyone smirked at my mischievous voice, and Malcolm motioned towards their bus. "She's alone so don't have to worry about any surprises."

"Meet you guys at the van."

Bounding down the stairs of my bus, I jogged the few feet distance to Hollow Souls bus and quietly sneaked inside where I heard a noise coming from her bunk. Ignoring how similar our buses looked, I stood in place, body frozen, as the soft melody of her voice crept deep inside my bones.

"But for now we stay so far til our lonely limbs connect. I can't keep you in my arms so instead you'll be in my mind."

I clutched my chest as she sang the words a few more times in different octaves of voice, trying to find the one that worked best. It wasn't anything like how she sang on stage. This had more passion behind the words and if I saw her, I bet her eyes would be closed in concentration, soft lips breathing out the words.

Fuck.

Shifting on my feet at the feeling of all the blood running to my dick as I remembered our kiss, I returned my focus to the whole reason I snuck on the bus. Yanking the curtain to her bunk back, I smirked as Y/N let out a shrilled shriek while covering her face with shaking hands.

"What the fuck, Noah! You scared the shit out of me," she seethed with no ounce of venom behind it.

My lips curled up in a lopsided smile. "Happy birthday, angel."

She stared up at me from her bunk with a surprised gaze but then a low scowl fell on her lips. "They told you?"

Ignoring her, I pointed to her outfit of black biker shorts and a black fitted tank; to me, she looked fucking breathtaking in this simple outfit, but I wanted to make sure that's what she wanted to wear out today. This day was about her and whatever she wanted, I'd give it to her.

"Fine with wearing that?" I asked.

I saw the way her eyes dwindled as the fight within her mind took over.

"Why?" She dragged out the word.

"Because you have two seconds to decide if you want to change or not. It's your choice; I'm not going to force you to change if you're happy with how you look."

She had her long hair pulled back in a tight braid but there was one small strand that hung into her eyes and she brushed it away eventually giving me a small nod.

"I'm happy with wearing this," her voice was quiet almost afraid that I'd change my mind.

My tongue darted out to wet my lips, an action she watched with intent eyes. "Good."

"What are you-?"

With my hand around her ankle, I slid her off of her bunk and threw her over my shoulder to carry her out of her bus. She protested by smacking my back but remembered what I told her the last time she was in this position.

"My shoes!" She yelled.

I turned around in a giant circle so fast; that she giggled with pure delight. It made my heart ache with the need to always hear that sound.

"Which ones?"

Y/N did the best she could to point in the right direction. "The bunk above mine has my shoes. Grab my docs."

Swiping them, I continued my run down the stairs to the outside air, her body bounding against my shoulder.

"Am I hurting you?" I asked.

"No, you're fine, Noah," she giggled. "But I'd love to know why you're kidnapping me."

I playfully scoffed. "It's not kidnapping if you're going to enjoy this."

Her nails scratched at my back and I shivered under her touch. "Hm, don't tempt me with a good time."

Swallowing thickly the desire to throw her against the bus to attack her lips again, I walked towards the van just in time to see Folio emerge from our bus.

"Shit, I didn't grab a jacket," Y/N cursed.

"Folio, can you grab my leather jacket? The one on my bunk?"

He raised a brow. "You sure you want that one?"

"Special occasion," I smirked while gently patting Y/N's ass.

"Hey!" she protested. "I'm way too old for birthday spanks!"

Don't fucking tempt me, angel.

Once we reached the van, I set her gently on her feet when Jolly and Nick took turns in a birthday celebratory hug. As much as she wanted to be upset about us celebrating her, the smile on her face gave her away. Chase wrapped an arm around her and left a kiss on her forehead while Malcolm did his typical fist bump.

"Happy birthday, kid." He said.

"Kid?" Her brows pulled together. "I'm older than you, dumbass."

Malcolm's fingers gently brushed across Chase's and I tilted my head at the small action.

"Yeah, whatever." He rolled his eyes.

Chase whispered something low in Y/N's ear and I watched as her face turned stone for a few brief seconds before giving a slow nod.

"I'm fine, Chase. The cramps haven't been that bad."

"Did you take your meds?" Malcolm asked. "I know you were worried about getting it refilled while on the road."

Y/N locked eyes with me for a few long seconds but before I could ask anything about whatever meds Malcolm was talking about, she turned her back to me so they could have their private conversation.

"Happy birthday!" Folio beamed his usual bright smile before giving her a high five and handed me my jacket with the free hand.

The smack echoed throughout the entire parking lot, and she hissed out in pain, shaking her hand.

"Y/N gets shotgun!" I raised my hand in the air, deciding it would be best to ignore the private conversation she had with Malcolm and Chase.

If she wanted me to know, she would tell me.

Y/N quickly shot me down. "No. I'm fine sitting in the back."

"Not going to happen, angel, it's your day. You ride front and center."

Even though we were almost ready to leave, we were waiting for Bryan who wanted to tag along to create a vlog day video for us. There was a chain-like fence that blocked off the edge of the parking lot with the sidewalk and I sat on it while I waited. Y/N watched me with a careful gaze and arms crossed over her chest.

"Please be careful, Noah."

"It's pretty sturdy. See?" I held onto it while jumping on my feet.

But my heart jumped into my throat when I felt myself lean too far forward and as I prepared myself to fall face-first into the concrete, Y/N's arms wrapped around me to save me.

"Shit, thanks," I muttered while back on my feet and rubbed the back of my neck.

"Looks like I'll be catching you when you fall," she winked.

I looked down at her full lips and the same pull that connected us made me dip my head low to close the distance when Bryan's loud voice caused me to take a step back.

"Matt wants us to bring some mochis for him since he's letting us borrow the van."

Jolly rolled his eyes. "Of course he does."

Bryan raised his camera towards Y/N. "Happy Birthday!"

When the large smile spread across her face as she threw up a peace sign, posing for the picture, my heart swelled inside my chest and the butterflies fluttered their wings at a rapid pace.

She's fucking beautiful.

"Hey!" We all turned our attention to the person who shouted, seeing Matt poke his head out from the crew's bus. "Be back by one for sound check! And fill up the van when you're done!"

"Yes, sir!" Y/N saluted.

Even though he was flipping her off, Matt smiled as he wished her a happy birthday.

"Alright, we should go," I wrangled everyone up into the van and then slid behind the wheel.

Once we were all settled, I handed Y/N the aux cord. "Birthday girl gets to choose the music."

She broke out in a wide grin and quickly pulled up some music on her phone. "I know exactly who I'm putting on."

Malcolm, who was sitting in the middle row with Chase and Bryan, leaned forward towards Y/N. "Joe?"

"Hell yes."

"Who's Joe?" I asked with a raised brow but kept my eyes on the road.

"Joe Mulherin. But he goes by the stage name nothing, nowhere," Y/N informed before deciding on a song.

I shrugged as the strum of notes played on the speakers. "I've never heard of him."

"He's pretty small, few people know about him," Malcolm said.

"Malcolm was the one who told me about nothing, nowhere. I've been obsessed with him the last year," Y/N admitted with a sheepish smile.

Taking my eyes off of the road for a brief second, I threw her a teasing wink. "Oh, should I be worried?"

"I don't know," Y/N rested her elbow on the armrest with her chin in her palm. "If Hollow Souls has the chance to tour with nothing, nowhere, I'm taking it."

"Over me?" I pushed out my bottom lip in mock disappointment.

She flicked my nose with her finger. "Definitely."

Her giggles bounced off the confines of the van as I took off my beanie and tossed it to her, both of our smiles radiating light. With the music tangling in the air with the various conversations, I looked into the rearview mirror out of habit and noticed Chase tuck a strand of Malcolm's hair behind his ear.

Y/N saw my confused gaze and rested a hand on my knee, squeezing me. "They'll tell you later."

I rested my hand over hers and squeezed it. "Well, are you ready for the first stop on your birthday surprise?"

"I can't wait!"

Her eyes sparkled with the brightness that made my heart stop every single time she looked at me like that.

NOAH

"Y/N, look at this," I chuckled while throwing on a random animal hat I'd found in an aisle at the Dasio store.

She was looking through some merchandise with Nick and when she turned up her gaze at me; she burst out into a fit of giggles, her hand covering her mouth.

"Wow, I love the new look, Noah. You should go on stage with it tonight. I can see the memes now. 'this is your favorite metal singer?"

Bryan, who also thought it was hilarious snapped a few pictures which gave Y/N the idea too as well but with her phone. I gave her a wide smile as she snapped a few pictures and when she was finished, I took off the hat then handed it to her. She eyed it warily.

"What?"

"It's only fair I get some pictures of the birthday girl wearing it," I said with a small smile.

I thought for sure she would fight it instead she put the hat on happily and threw up a sideways peace sign. Bryan and I both took an insane amount of pictures before I pocketed my phone and figured now would be the perfect time to slip away for the next phase of her birthday surprise.

"Shit, we should probably head back to the venue for a soundcheck," I made a show of checking my watch.

It was only noon but I needed a diversion and also because we needed Nick to have enough time to set up for the third phase of Y/N's birthday celebration.

"I'll meet you guys at the van in ten minutes," I handed Y/N my leather jacket. "It's cold out now."

"Always looking out for me," she mused while slipping on the jacket.

Fuck, she looked so good wearing it.

The sudden urge to see her wearing more of my clothes filled me but I ignored it by clearing my throat. "I'll meet you at the van. Think of what you want for your birthday lunch."

Her hand caressed mine as I walked past her and every fiber of my existence buzzed with electricity.

"Where are you going?"

I leaned close to her ear; the words brushing against her skin. "If I tell you, then it ruins the surprise, angel."

With a wink, I jogged out of the Dasio store into the small shop right next door. The lady behind the counter gave me a warm smile as she beckoned me over with a wave.

"Hi there, what are we looking for today?"

"Uh," I rubbed my chin with nerves because I realized I didn't know what type Y/N likes. But can never go wrong with something simple. "Do you have any matching sets?"

I pointed down the silver array in the glass case, and the lady smiled. "Like his and hers?"

"Yeah," I nodded.

"We'll look at the more feminine choices first before looking for some for you."

For the next few minutes, she helped me choose the best set for Y/N and me. When she was bagging everything up after I paid, she raised a curious brow.

"Whoever she is must be special."

"Yeah," my heart skipped a beat. "She really is."

READER

"No fucking way!" I squealed. "Are you serious?!"

Nick buzzed the gun in his hand a few times and finished setting up the small cups full of different colored inks.

"What did you want to get done?" Nick questioned.

My mind filled with different options and designs but knowing we were pressed on time for before the show tonight, I went with a small design from another one of my favorite animes My Neighbor Totoro.

"I've been wanting to get a small Totoro tattoo for a while now," I beamed. "Another one of my favorite animes."

"Alright, give me a few minutes to get it drawn up."

I wrapped my arms around Nick. "Thank you."

"Of course, Y/N. Happy birthday," he returned the hug.

"So, who's first? Me or you?"

Turning on my heels, I let Nick finish setting up and stared up at Noah, his words registering in my brain.

"Wait, you're getting a tattoo as well?" I asked.

He gave me a lazy smile. "Yep. I was going to get Aogaeru."

My eyes widened. "The frog from Spirited Away? Are you serious?"

Noah stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged as if this idea wasn't a big deal.

"It was the first movie we watched together in the hotel after Keaton's funeral. Means a lot to me."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "You'd sit and get a tattoo with me?"

Noah brushed away a loose strand of hair that fell from my braid behind my ear, fingers trailing against the skin of my neck.

"I'd sit and watch ants crawl out of a hole for hours if that meant I'm sitting next to you," he vowed with hooded eyes as he stared down at my lips.

Memories of our kiss flashed in my mind, and I clenched my legs together. It had been days since then and every second since, the only thing I felt were his lips and how they tasted. It haunted my dreams in the best way and I craved to feel his kiss once again.

Trey. Don't forget about your boyfriend.

Right, the same boyfriend who didn't bother to say happy birthday before he left for his interview.

"I have something for you," Noah's deep voice snapped me out of my thoughts of his lips on every inch of me.

"Noah, you've done enough," I said.

He ran a hand through his hair before pulling out two velvet boxes from a bag that was sitting on the couch of the green room where we all were hanging out. My heart stopped for three seconds as he handed them to me.

"No-Noah," I stumbled over his name, shock filling me. "I can't."

"Yes, you can. Now open it."

Biting the inside of my cheek, I opened the box, and a gasp left my lips as the silver necklace and matching bracelet shined under the light of the room. It wasn't anything over the top and there were no diamonds but that didn't matter to me. I wasn't one for over-the-top jewelry, this simple chain and bracelet were enough.

With wet eyes, I gazed up at Noah, who had a nervous look on his face as he fiddled with his wooden rosary. "Do you like it?"

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him into my embrace, burying my face into his neck. "I love it, Noah. Thank you so much."

His large hands gripped my hips as we stood there in each other's embrace for a few more long moments, enjoying the warmth of each other. My mind was racing in pace with how fast my heart was beating as the sudden realization hit. My feelings for Noah slammed into me like a fucking freight train and I nearly choked on them.

Noah leaves an imprint on me like I’ve never felt before. He is a permanent mark on my skin, deeper than any tattoo or scar. I can pinch myself and feel the pressure want to implode because he's burrowed there. Even if it imploded, it would heal over and Noah would still have his imprint on me. It seemed as if he was meant to be there and as I stared into his deep brown eyes, almost black with his feelings, I decided I never wanted to remove him.

"You know," Noah cleared his throat while stepping away from me. "I got-."

"Noah, can I talk to you quickly?"

Nick motioned Noah over to where he finished setting up for our tattoos.

"Go," I nodded. "I'm sure we'll have more time to talk tonight."

With a reluctant sigh, he squeezed my hand as he met Nick halfway. My gaze lingered at his back and my bottom lip caught between my teeth as I stared a little too long at the way his jeans hugged his ass.

Someone cleared their throat from behind causing me to jump and I gave Jolly a sheepish smile. "I wasn't-."

He hummed while taking a long sip of his beer. "I see everything, you know."

I pursed my lips while clearing my throat and adjusted the leather jacket; Noah's leather jacket. "I don't know what you're talking about, Jolly."

"You sure about that?" He motioned to the jacket.

Rolling my eyes, I smacked his chest playfully before going to sit on the couch in the green room.

NOAH

"What's up?" I asked Nick.

"You're getting matching tattoos with her?"

I ran a hand over my chin, already preparing myself for this conversation. I knew the guys wouldn't understand why I was doing this but as long as Y/N didn't mind, that's all that mattered.

"You're thinking too much into it, Nick. It's just a tattoo. Plus, it's not matching. I'm getting one from a different anime," I said.

He shrugged. "Can you blame me? I'm just worried you slipping too close to the edge for her and you're about to fall without someone there to catch you. We barely got you back the last time this-."

"Don't," I sliced my eyes into him. "I don't want to talk about her."

Nick let out a deep breath and nodded, patting my shoulder. "Alright. I'm just worried, that's all."

Guilt ate away at me when I realized I snapped at him when Nick was coming from a good place. She fucked me up years ago, and it was something I was still dealing with to this day.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap. Whenever she's brought up, I go back to that place, and today out of all days, I don't want to go there."

"What's taking so long?" Y/N came up beside Nick and poked his side. "Birthday girl is getting impatient."

I snorted. "You heard her, Nick."

For the next couple hours, we all chatted about our lives before becoming a band and I found out a lot about Y/N that I couldn't find out on the internet. She has a black cat back home in Vegas named Salem; a friend of hers takes care of him while she's on the road. She was adopted at six months old but her parents divorced when she was sixteen; her dad moved to Japan while her mom stayed in Vegas. She saw her dad every so often and wished that she moved with him instead of staying with her mom. Y/N felt like she had to stay with her because the divorce hit her mom hard which ended up almost destroying their relationship.

"Have you visited your dad recently?" Nick asked as he finished putting the cream over her fresh tattoo.

It was a small design of Totoro on her ankle; mine mirrored hers in design and placement.

"It's been a few years. I've been so busy with Hollow Souls that it's hard to take a trip that far. But I try to talk to him every day," she said with a smile.

"I'm sorry the relationship with your mom isn't the greatest," Jolly frowned.

Y/N shrugged. "I love her but sometimes she forgets how to be a mom. She'd rather be a friend."

Chase kissed the side of her head since he sat next to her on the couch. "It's her own fault. She's missing out on seeing the kick-ass women you've grown into, Y/N."

"Yeah, fuck her!" Malcolm cheered while finishing his second beer.

Y/N tried to chastise him for cursing her mom but eventually, she agreed with a curt nod.

I sat on the armrest of the couch next to her. "Our tattoos look sick."

"I still can't believe you got a Totoro tattoo just because I like it," she chuckled while resting a hand on my thigh.

"That's exactly why I got it, angel."

Folio handed her a drink before passing out the rest of the bottles to all of us and I raised my beer in the air. "Happy birthday, Y/N! I hope you had a great fucking day because you deserve it."

She tapped her bottle with everyone before she turned towards me, a glimmering light beneath her pupils. "Thank you, Noah, sincerely. You've made the last few weeks something truly memorable."

We clinked out bottles and as I brought it to my lips; she watched it with careful determination.

Suddenly, her phone began to ring and as I peered down at it, my heart sank low to the depths of my stomach.

Trey.

"What the fuck does he want," she grumbled while standing to her feet.

"I doubt it's to wish you a happy birthday. Prick has been gone all day for a two-hour interview," Malcolm said.

She waved him off as she slipped into the hallway, leaving the door cracked open a bit, just enough to hear parts of her conversation.

"You were the one who left me alone today, Trey."

"I didn't plan on celebrating my birthday today. Noah surprised me with everything, I would not say no."

"Holy Hades, you're delusional. Nothing is going on between us. He's just a friend."

The words would have stung if I believed her but I didn't. We both knew that our feelings for each other were more than friends; the kiss proved it. My lips tingled as I remembered how she tasted or the way her teeth grazed across my bottom lip.

"Why should I come to you? It's not like you have anything for me."

There was a long beat of silence. "I'm sorry but the last thing I want right now is mediocre birthday sex where you'll get to finish while I'm laying there getting myself off as you fall asleep."

I didn't know whether to be impressed at her witty comeback or upset at the fact that she was stuck with that kind of guy.

Why the hell did she continue to stay with him?

"You didn't even post anything about my birthday!" She seethed, her anger echoing into the room. "You might think it's stupid but I don't know; to me it means something. Fucking Bryan posted a video compilation for me."

"Bryan's their photographer you fucking dick! Oh, my Hades. Not every guy I hang out with is trying to sleep with me."

Bryan shifted in his seat. "This guy sounds like a real prick."

Chase drained half of his beer in one go. "We know."

While she continued to talk on the phone with Trey, I whipped out my phone with a small smile pulling at my lips.

READER

"Yeah, fuck you too," I spat while ending the call.

Trey promised that if I met him on the bus, he'd make my birthday worth it.

"He can't even find my spot, how the fuck is he going to make it worth it." I rubbed the frustration out on my forehead with a long, calming breath.

Many would ask why I continued to stay with Trey but the answer was simple; he was familiar.

A familiar asshole who doesn't deserve you.

That part was true. It was my birthday and what did Trey do? Nothing. While all the guys spent the last few hours making me feel so adored and thought of, Trey didn't even post on his social media for me but you know who did?

Trey and Malcolm made compilations of random pictures throughout our time in Hollow Souls together.

Both Nick's and Jolly posted pictures they took of me while on stage to say happy birthday.

Even Bryan posted a small video compilation of me from when we went to the zoo.

With my phone still in my hand, it buzzed letting me know I received yet another tag on Instagram. This post was the only one that made my heart stutter wildly in my chest. Two pictures. The first was the picture he took of me today at the Dasio store with the animal hat on my head. The second one was a picture of our tattoos. The words he wrote in the caption made the butterflies flutter in my gut.

Happy birthday @y/n! I'm not attempting to be corny or some shit on this app, but I will say this: tour and this whole experience has been sick, and it’s been such a privilege to be in your presence, your talent is beyond measure, you inspire me more than you know and I hope you enjoy yourself. You deserve it. 🧡 P.S. The tattoo I got today hurt like a bitch.

Of course, he limited the amount of comments on the post but that didn't stop the few fans that tossed their absurd accusations about the post.

"I'm so fucked." I muttered while double-clicking the picture.

NOAH

"Has anyone seen Y/N?" I asked while poking my head into the green room seeing Chase and Malcolm talking amongst themselves; pretty close.

When they heard me, they broke apart pretty fast, and I raised a brow to them while crossing my arms over my chest. "You guys don't have to hide this, you know?"

I could practically see the weight lift from Chase's shoulders as Malcolm held hands with him. "I told you, Chase; no one cares."

"It's not that. It's still new and I don't want to jinx it," Chase admitted.

"Well, good for you guys. I'm glad someone has a happy relationship in your band," I grumbled the last part to myself.

Malcolm snorted. "Why are you looking for Y/N?"

I held up a bottle of Hennessy. "Birthday shots before you guys go on stage."

Bad Omens finished their set a while ago with Y/N watching the entire time and every time I caught her eyes on side stage, I made sure to either wave or wink; something to let her know I was always thinking about her.

When Chase asked for the bottle, I tossed it to him. "I think she's on the bus getting ready."

Nodding to him, I quickly walked out of the venue and over to her bus with my nerves working into overdrive. I wanted to find her for birthday shots but there was also something I wanted to tell her; something that had been eating away at me for the last few days, since our kiss.

She needed to know the truth. I just hope she felt the same.

No, I shook my head. I know she did.

Hollow Souls bus was dark, with no sign of life, until I heard soft moans coming from the back bunk area and the sound of skin on skin.

"Shit, Trey. So good."

My jaw dropped in tangent with my heart as the feminine moans burned in my ears.

"Fuck, baby. You're so tight. I'm gonna-."

"Harder please."

"I'm better than him, right? He can't make you feel like this?"

"No, just you Trey."

I blinked slowly as my brain tried to process everything I was hearing. They were having sex, and she was enjoying it?

"Angel," I whispered as tears burned in my eyes.

Movement out of the window caught my attention just as Trey groaned out a name, one that wasn't Y/N's. It was white noise as I stared at my friend, who was outside laughing and smiling bright with Folio who was probably telling her the story about how he tried to catch this huge fish but ended up falling into the lake.

Oh, shit.

If Y/N was outside then who the fuck was in the bunk with Trey?

I fumed as I ran down the steps into the parking lot where Folio only stood, Y/N nowhere in sight. As he saw the anger radiating from me in waves, Folio stepped in front of me to stop me.

"Where's the fire, man?"

"Where's Y/N?" I asked, fingers shaking with the need to hit something.

"She's about to go on stage." Folio could sense something was off because he forced me to look at him. "What the hell is going on?"

Pressing my tongue to my cheek, I spat out the words like venom on my tongue. "I caught Trey cheating."

"Fuck," he cursed while running a hand over his face while pacing. "You're sure?"

I nodded. "Heard it loud and clear."

Nick and Jolly came down from our bus at that moment and immediately could feel the tension. "What's going on?"

Folio filled them in on what I had heard and they both had the same reaction as him.

"What are you going to do?" Jolly wondered.

I threw a hand towards the building. "I have to tell her; she deserves to know!"

"We know," Nick nodded. "But wait until after their set. Let her perform with a clear mind, alright? That's the last thing she needs to focus on while on stage."

"Fucking prick cheats on her on her birthday," Jolly fumed. "Who the fuck does that?"

As if he could hear us talking about him, Trey appeared from behind with a smug smile on his face and ran a hand through his messy curls. "Sorry, I missed your show, boys. I was kind of held up."

"Really? Cause I don't see Y/N anywhere," I stepped up into him.

Trey eyed me up and down. "My girlfriend is none of your business, Noah. Back off."

“She isn’t cattle for you to own, Trey. From what I’ve seen, you don’t love her. You were balls deep into someone less than ten minutes ago.”

“Shut the fuck up, man you don’t know anything," Trey pushed my chest.

Jolly stepped between us while both Nick and Folio grasped my arms to hold me back.

“No. No, I do. I see everything,” I said through gritted teeth.

Nick's tight grip on my forearm had me taking a large step away from Trey, letting out a deep breath.

"Might want to stick around for the show. I hear it's going to be one to remember," Trey flipped us off as he slithered inside the building.

"I really fucking hate him," I seethed.

NOAH

No. Fucking. Way.

I thought I was angry before but now; I was seeing red. Jolly and Nick flanked me on both sides while Folio stood off in front of me as we watched Hollow Souls finish their set. As usual, they killed it even with Trey but I couldn't focus on how beautiful Y/N looked tonight in her yellow flowy sundress or the white vans that seemed to glow underneath the stage lights. She took her hair out of her braid and it cascaded down her back in waves.

The only thing I could focus on was Trey and how he kept getting close to Y/N, wrapping an arm around her or even once trying to kiss her while she was on stage. She was uncomfortable; it was clear in the way her shoulders tensed when she kissed him back. My heart ached when I saw that but I couldn't dwell on the pain for long; I was buzzing as I waited for Y/N to come off stage so I could tell her what I heard but apparently, Trey had other plans.

"As some of you may know, today is Y/N's birthday so let's give her a huge round of fucking applause," Trey screamed into the mic.

Everyone in the crowd sang happy birthday along with Trey but neither Malcolm nor Chase helped, both seeing how uncomfortable Y/N was. It was if she shrunk into herself and let her hair fall into her face to hide.

"I love you so much, baby. Hollow Souls would be nothing without you. You truly make me a better man. I put a small video compilation together for you. You better like it," he ended his words with a wink.

Y/N's attention turned towards one of the large screens that we usually use for graphics for the show and immediately, everyone knew that this 'compilation' Trey threw together was a bunch of bullshit. It was mostly pictures of Trey with Y/N barely in the background or the pictures she was in were all of their media pictures. Not one personal picture he took of her.

As if she felt me watching, Y/N gazed over at me with a pleading look in her eyes.

"Alright, thanks so much Cincinnati! Have a good night and get home safe!" Malcolm called into the mic and cued the techs to start the nightly ritual of clean up.

Once she was cleared, Y/N sprinted off the stage over towards us but before I could even a second with her, Trey was hot on her tail.

"What, no thank you?" He demanded while grabbing her arm.

She ripped it from his grasp. "Fuck off! Why the hell would you do that? That stupid movie barely had any pictures of me!"

Trey clenched his jaw. "You're being ungrateful."

"Ungrateful?" she scoffed with wide eyes. "We both know the only reason you did that was because you wanted to one-up the guys. You don't give a shit."

"Baby, can we talk about this in private?" He tossed a glare towards us.

"Actually," I stepped towards her. "I really need to talk to you."

"I need to be alone," she mumbled under her breath.

Y/N pushed past me to continue her path outside where I followed behind, not ready to let this die. She needed to know the truth.

"Angel," I reached for her hand once we were outside.

"Noah, please," she let out a shaky breath. "I need to be alone."

I shook my head. "Give me five minutes."

"Oh, what's the problem wannabe Oli Sykes? Something upsetting you? Mad she won't spend the rest of her birthday with you?" Trey teased as he came up behind Y/N and wrapped an arm around her waist.

She brushed him off. "Can you give me a minute, Trey? Please, just a fucking minute."

Reluctantly he nodded but pulled her in for a heavy kiss and I averted my eyes down to my worn vans. I didn't need to watch as Y/N kissed him back for the briefest of moments before pushing on his chest.

"Two minutes then I want you on that bus, dress off," Trey smacked her ass before stalking up towards their bus.

Y/N wiped at her lips. "What do you want, Noah?"

"You can't go back to him, angel." I reached for her hand again and felt the weight around my heart ease when she intertwined our fingers together.

Tears burned in her eyes and I could tell she was seconds away from a breakdown.

"Why?" Her question wavered.

I swallowed the large lump in my throat. "He cheated on you, angel. I walked in on it."

Her broken stare barley lifted from the dirt on my shoes but the way she recoiled her hand from mine tightened the weight all over again.

"What?"

I tried to reach for her again but she smacked my hand away. "You're lying."

"I'm not," I shook my head. "Why would I lie to you about this?"

Her lips parted, nothing coming from her mouth, until she let out a stronger breath. "Be-because of the-."

Suddenly the anger intensified when I realized why she couldn't finish her sentence; she was afraid that if she said the word it would become real for her and force her to think about it.

"The kiss," I deadpanned. "You can say it, angel. We kissed. But that has nothing to do with Trey cheating on you!"

My voice was raised now, but I didn't care who heard. The only one that needed to be standing right in front of me.

"You're supposed to be my friend, Noah. Why would you even say that?"

Tears fell from her eyes and I had to force my hands into my pockets so I wouldn't wipe them away.

"That's why I'm telling you! And don't pull the friend card, you know this," I pointed between us. "Is more than that."

She turned her head away from me. "I don't know what you mean."

"Bullshit." I scoffed. "You know exactly how you feel, angel. Stop ignoring it."

"Did you see him?"

Her voice was so quiet, that I almost missed her question.

"What does that have to do with anything?" I asked dumbfounded.

"Did you see him?" She snapped, eyes slicing into me.

My nostrils flared. "No, but I heard him."

"Please, he could have been watching porn," she defended.

It was as if someone had slapped me across the face.

"I've listened to better audiobooks with sex than that," I said.

"Trey said you would do this. Tell lies to confuse me." She took a step away from me.

"You're taking his side over me? Even after everything he puts you through," I asked, dumbfounded.

She shook her head, not meeting my gaze again. "You don't get it."

"No, I get it loud and fucking clear, Y/N! You're so afraid of how you feel for me, for us, that you're staying with something familiar even though he treats you like shit!"

"There's no feelings here, Noah. That kiss was a mis-."

"Don't," I took a large step towards her. "We know it wasn't a mistake; we both wanted it."

Her tears stained her face, mascara leaving black trails underneath her eyes. "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm used to this. I can handle it."

I stared at her for a long moment, shocked that she was taking Trey's side. Yes, I might not have seen him, but I know what I heard.

"Fine," I eventually nodded and ran an aggravating hand through my hair. "When you wake up from this delusional world you're in, you know where to find me."

With a final look of betrayal, I left her standing in the middle of the parking lot, her soft cries running daggers into my chest.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #enemies to lovers #right person wrong time #starcrossed lovers

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apompkwrites · 1 year

Text

the protected draconia || malleus draconia

masterlist characters: n/a genre: angst(?)-ish (honestly sorta neutral) contains: lilia pov lilia pov lilia pov, blood/injuries, my own personal idea of how malleus' grandmother is?, ooc lilia probably I'm sorry D: summary: lilia knows more than he lets on. but what he didn't expect, in all of his time in briar valley, was to see a member of the royal family on the ground in a cave, wingless and hornless. notes: mm gotta get the story rolling somehow :D parts: [og post] | [previous] | [next]

lilia, for as long as he had served the draconia family, was well aware of the turmoil that befell the name after a mysterious man created a "bastard" child. the man was an enigma, an unknown parasite that came and went like the wind.

it was surreal for lilia, having been close to the general before his untimely passing that occurred after his family nearly fell apart. not only that, it was now his job to take over the position following the funeral.

and as time marched forward, so too did lilia. he found himself becoming a general and a father all in a span of a couple years. and although he loved his jobs, he couldn't help but think.

he would catch glimpses of them in the halls now and then. they often clung to miss leah as if she were their real mother. it was endearing, to say the least. and when lilia finally found the time, he had confronted the fae.

"i see you're taking care of the little dragon, now."

"ah, general lilia...!"

"no need for formalities. i was simply... here to ask for your opinion."

"opinion...? for what?"

"what is the best way to handle a cracked horn?"

it was as if the two were newly single parents that had no clue on how to raise their kids, which, in all honesty, wasn't far from the truth. with that single question, the two had forged a bond, a parental bond with the two members of the draconia family.

so when miss leah came rushing over, crying out that the little dragon had gone missing, lilia felt his heart drop to his stomach as if his own children had gone missing.

"lilia! lilia!" leah cried out as she barged into his chambers, tears falling down her face and her usually stoic and composed demeanor left behind somewhere.

"leah!" lilia gasped as she entered. "what is it?"

"it's (name)!" she panted as she struggled to catch her breath. "they... they were supposed to come back this afternoon, but when i went to retrieve them, the advisors told me they hadn't come back from their test!"

lilia grimaced at the sound of the advisors. he knew exactly which ones she was talking about and how cruel those supposed "good" fairies were.

"and what was that test the little dragon was sent on?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"they... they were sent into the forest! but they won't tell me what exactly happened!" leah panics, collapsing to the ground in front of lilia in a bow. "I beg of you, general lilia, please find them!"

lilia didn't have to think twice about the request. despite not formally meeting the younger draconia, he had a duty, an obligation, to keep them safe, both as the general of briar valley and the protector of their older brother, malleus.

the forest was dense and quiet, save for a few rustling of trees and bushes. despite the dense foliage, it didn't take him long to find a trace of the smaller draconia, or rather, whatever had taken them.

lilia had stumbled upon a trail, most likely one belonging to a beast of the briar. he had seen a fair share of them in his time out in the thorns but this one... this one was different.

from the prints alone, it seemed almost forced. it wasn't a natural trail one would see from a beast.

lilia was quick to follow the trail, finding himself weaving through thorn bushes and trees until he reached a small cave hidden amongst the flora. and what he saw there was beyond the horrors he had seen on the battlefield.

curled up on the ground, bound by thorned vines that cut and punctured their skin, was the so-called bastard draconia. and, other than the blood coming from their tied arms, was the blood dripping from their back and head.

"oh, you poor thing..." lilia could only coo, delicately cutting the thorned vines off of their arms and scooping them up. when he saw how crudely their horns and wings were ripped from the body, he had a sneaking suspicion he knew what fate had fallen upon the child in his arms.

"your highness." lilia greeted as he kneeled in front of the queen. just a formality, he always reminded himself. nothing but a formality.

"lilia... what is the meaning of this...?" the queen uttered, staring down at the body presented to her with wide, fearful eyes. "this..."

"yes. the child of your daughter and that... man." lilia responded, his hands lightly pressed against the child's back to stay the bleeding. "i am... aware of your decision to keep them within the palace walls, but... my main concern now, and miss leah's main concern, is the treatment of this child."

"...tell me more." she commanded as she stood up from the throne, slowly walking down the steps until she reached lilia and (name). "...despite their diluted blood, this is still my grandchild. what has happened to them?"

"i asked miss leah here to explain to you in detail. she has more experience in this than i." lilia explained, motioning for leah to step forward. she did, albeit with a bit more nervousness than lilia.

"your... your majesty..." leah bowed to the queen. "the child you have placed in my care is a bright one. however, many of the servants who have lived with them seem to only see them as the child of an affair and blame them wrongfully for their very existence."

the queen's demeanor seemed to change at that instant. her once caring and soft eyes directed at the unconscious child turned cold, almost rivaling that of the thorn fairy herself.

"miss leah... you mean to tell me that my own servants have been mistreating my grandchild?" she hissed under her breath.

"y-yes, your highness..."

"and, if i may," lilia chimes in, slightly lifting one hand. his palm was coated in blood. "it seems that your most trusted advisors have caused these injuries on the young child."

"they... what?" the queen growled, her expression growing darker.

"not directly or of their own hand, but by order." lilia clarified. "i have reason to believe that these injuries were caused by--"

"a fae in white, yes, it is quite obvious." the queen quickly interjected.

"...and so, your advisors seem to have ordered your grandchild to hunt down a beast in the briar, leading to them getting caught and abused by a fae in white." lilia concluded.

silence filled the throne room. the queen took a deep breath, clutching her scepter tightly in her hand, her knuckles turning white. she took another deep breath, her eyes shut.

"...i will deal with these unruly servants by my own hand." she decreed, slowly opening her eyes. they drifted down to (name), who was still shivering on the floor. "...have them tended to. i shall atone for my part in their suffering in the only way i can right now."

"and that would be...?"

"...lilia. leah. please raise my grandchild the way they should have. as a member of the draconia family."

it was a surprising awakening. opening your eyes, not to the cold floor of the cave, but to the pristine ceiling of... somewhere?

you weren't entirely sure where you were. and nor were you aware of who these people were standing above you.

taglist: @brokenncrown @help-meplz @destinationdesignation @rainys-personal-garden @kalims @sxftiebee @luxaryllis @auld-a @the-dumber-scaramouche @ayra2452008 @tinywho-man @spadecentral @justeclem44 @kenma-izhu @mulandi @sadimon @stormyovent0aster @sn00zl4x @f1fty-f1fty @bloomed-night-flower @madusas-girlfriend @b0nkers-papaya @arandomeroacher @randonamedcl @potabletable @meerpea @luvcalico @chlousp @prettyinblack231 @dindarasuum @elizaboba @ravenlking @reveristmain @lasignoramybeloved @poto-de-michi @sherryuki-callmeyuki @cadit-in-aestus-sidereum @valeriele3 @hu-tqao @reallytired5 @akitsuki13 @queenaveryrules @dia-disappointment @oxzamzu

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cherrycrushes · 2 months

Note

can you please write more for benedict ?? i love the one you did about his muse !!! (no pressure obvs <33)

a dream with an artist - oneshot

b. bridgerton x reader.

a/n: yess tysm! also this is based off the faye webster song called a dream with a baseball player :)

sitting on a chaise, you were surrounded by the warmth of the sunlight. it was slowly turning into the evening. you were reading a book, with benedict's head on your lap. stroking his hair softly as you read the words on the page out loud. his soft snores echoing in the drawing room.

his hands that were now fallen, were occupied with his sketch book and quill. he had dozed off while sketching items in the room to your voice.

"lady y/n! lady y/n!"

and you woke up. sitting up, you saw your lady's maid standing at the entrance of your door.

"well good morning to you as well, miss. clark," you yawned and stretched. "what ever seems to be the problem?"

"miss y/n, pardon my intrusion, but your grandmother has passed this morning," miss. clark bows deeply. you could feel your heart shatter.

as the daughter of a marquis, your family has lots of power. power that could be taken advantage of. you knew because of your grandmothers death that many men would console you in an attempt to rise the ranks. though you knew you had your eyes set on a certain bridgerton, you had to be careful.

miss clark raises from her bow at her silence, and passes you the letter. opened, which you presume was because of your mother, and you could see the stamp of black wax on the end of it.

the letter described that your grandmother had passed in her sleep, discovered by one of her servants. it was expected of your family to be at her funeral in a churchyard. her wishes are to be surrounded by her family and other family friends.

off you were, facing your mother and father on the other side of a carriage. dressed in black italian gauze over a white slip, black gloves reaching until your elbow, you looked out the window. the drive was quiet, as your father acted as stoic as ever and your mother itching to say something. she tapped her finger rapidly on her knee, as if to muster up courage.

"you know, dearest, the bridgertons may be there," she said awkwardly.

you raised an eyebrow at her. it would make sense that they would- your mother and dowager viscountess bridgerton being close friends. you wish you could say the same to her children. the only way you've interacted with any of them is with benedict in your dreams.

"that's interesting, mother," you tried to dismiss.

usually when mourning, you didn't like to talk. a bit overcome with sadness. it would be easy for you to avoid people at the funeral, being known as mysterious to the ton. the carriage arrived at the church as your parents exited first. you walked up, hearing whispers about you as you did.

as the society mourning continued, you had spaced out the entire time. the reception was over before you knew it, and you were at your mothers side to accept any prayers.

the bridgerton family were over, giving their thoughts and prayers. while you weren't paying attention, you finally looked up from the ground. only to make eye contact with the second oldest bridgerton. you two shared the moment, as if telling each other to meet later and talk.

so you did, after the amount of families you have talked to. you were at a table, enjoying the sights of finger food and eavesdropping. you turned around as someone cleared his throat behind you.

"lady y/n pemberton," benedict announced. "good to see you."

he took your hand and pressed a kiss against it, causing a faint heat creep up on your cheeks.

"a pleasure to see you as well, mr. bridgerton," you replied, clearing your throat. "thank you for your prayers earlier."

realizing your mistake, you had tried to correct yourself.

"and your families' as well! it was sweet," you scrambled.

he chuckled lightly at your response. "no problem. i hope everything goes well in mourning of course?"

to this you simply nod. wanting to melt away in the crowd due to your embarrassment.

he bid his farewells, which you returned. red on your face increasing.

how did you fall in love with someone you didn't know?

#☎️ cherry’s line!#benedict bridgerton x you #x reader #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton

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charliehoennam · 29 days

Text

hero's homestead

A/N: just a lil blurb I've had stuck on my mind and had to frigging get out since watching Road House

Pairing: Elwood Dalton x f!reader

Warnings: physical injuries, jealousy, kissing, mentions of grief and death

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

Growing up in Glass Key made your face quite familiar around these parts. Everyone knew you, not because you were popular or from a rich family. Lord knows you wish you were.

But because the island was just so small, like a little fishbowl with too many sharks circling around their prey, everyone knew each other around here. However, the small island was full of a strong sense of community.

Your friendship with Charlie started while you were in high school. You were just a freshman and Charlie was six when Stephen and his wife would very often ask you to baby-sit.

Saying no to them was nearly impossible. Not only did they pay you well, but they always offered you a ride home and made you sure you had dinner before leaving. They really treated you like you were part of the family and helping one another in the community was just so normal.

They always treated you with welcoming kindness and respect so, if there was anything you could do to help them, you did it. Aside from baby-sitting Charlie, this included working at their book store.

You were around there most of the time. If you weren't at home or at school, you were at Glass Books.

As you got older, you started to spend less and less time there in order to focus on your own personal and professional life.

That didn't mean you were never around anymore. You still made your frequent stop to buy the new read of the week.

"Why don't you just get all the books you want for the month, so you don't have to keep coming back?" Charlie questioned genuinely curious.

"Nah, I like coming here. I like the service. And besides, you'd miss me too much, kid" you chuckled watching the young teenage ring your book up at the register.

When Stephen told you about his wife's illness, it really took you by surprise. She could've easily been voted the happiest woman of Glass Key. The aura she possessed could make the dullest room become the brightest. Her sense of humor would have even the most no-nonsense person cracking a smile. She was an amazing woman and a motherly figure to most.

The entire community mourned her loss. The blue sky and the tropical environment wasn't enough to brighten the day for your neighborhood's residents. The heavy rains that followed that entire week led you to believe that even the island was weeping for her absence.

Between medical expenses, funeral costs and a growing teenager, Stephen had to learn to be a single father quite fast. And that meant working a full-time job to make end's meet.

He asked you to help out with the store and you happily agreed. Glass Books was his wife's dream. She loved spending her days there, in the cozy little bookstore she'd built with the love of her life.

Although you know Stephen has a lot on his plate, you can't help but wonder if he wants to avoid the store and her memory altogether.

You refused to accept money for it, knowing the shop didn't make so much money. Even so, Stephen would still transfer you a small amount whenever he could and would often bring you breakfast, lunch or dinner because he felt it was the least he could do.

All you wanted to do was help.

He was more than grateful, especially when he saw how you could make Charlie laugh by putting on music and dancing in the middle of the store with her.

He could see her slipping into a dark place after the death of her mother. Dealing with his own pain, he did his best. But, you were the best friend she needed. A feminine figure she could go to talk about more embarrassing situations or just to get her mind off of the loss.

Gradually, it seemed like their small family was beginning to heal. Although the loss was a still a fresh wound, and Stephen would often find Charlie clutching a small portrait of her mother asleep in bed, they were managing to keep the pain at bay.

You understand how important this store to them. It represents so much more than being just a simple local book store. It represents her.

The store was just as special to you as it was to Charlie and Stephen.

It had always been your refuge, but now, it was always the place where you met him.

Charlie, with her overly friendly nature that she inherited from her mother, struck up a conversation with the then stranger just outside the bookstore.

Her overprotective father was soon outside within seconds. Although the friendly streak ran deep within him too, he knew these parts were full of men with bad intentions.

Once he realized the stranger wasn't from around, he felt a little more at ease.

Although you remained inside the shop, you could overhear their conversation as you inched towards the door and opened it to stand in the doorway, eyeing the stranger with caution.

Stephen was surprised to know he'd come out of town to work at the Road House. To be honest, neither of you expected him to last very long. At that place, security never does.

The bouncer turnover never ceased with the riots that broke out there almost every night. So, you didn't bother getting your hopes up.

However, Dalton kept coming back. Every other day, he came in with the excuse of using the computer or buying a book just to strike up a conversation with you and lay down his flirtatious charm.

Charlie was the first to notice he would always come around when you were there and, if you weren't, he'd always make sure to ask when you were.

She had quite a bit of fun poking fun at you, telling you he had a crush on you or mocking the unconscious change in your voice you had when talking to him.

It didn't long take for feelings to develop between you and him. There was no doubt in either of you. Although unspoken, the magnetic attraction was undeniably present.

Some of those talks were deep and you felt you could confide in him to share things you hadn't shared with anyone at all. He, in turn, told you about the night on the train tracks and how the last fight he had in the ring haunted him every night.

There was no denying the bond you were forming. However, the rumors that were spreading around the island about the closeness between Ellie and him made you hesitant to make the first move.

When you casually brought it up into conversation, he shook his head and told you it wasn't anything serious and that she'd took him on a date once. You wanted to ask him if he had feelings for her, but that would be too much.

"So what's the deal with you and Dalton?" Charlie curiously asked, having picked up on the constant courtship that you two refused to act on.

"There is no deal. We're just friends. Hardly that."

"I may be young, but I'm no fool. I know there's something going on between you two."

"Sorry to disappoint you, kid, but there isn't. Besides, I hear he's got a sort of a girlfriend" you replied without looking up at her from the book in your hand.

You were both sat in fold-out beach chairs placed in front of the store, enjoying a couple of white cherry slushies, hoping the ice cold drink could soothe the hot, humid weather.

"How do you have a 'sort of girlfriend'? Either she is or isn't."

"Those things are complicated. I guess they're getting to know each other," you shrugged wishing you could avoid the topic.

"Like you guys are?"

"There is nothing going on. Sure, he's cute and funny and all, but he's seeing someone else. He's not interested in me, Charlie."

"So, you are interested in him?"

"It doesn't matter if I am. She's a doctor, she's smart and she's really pretty and drives a nice car. I know I don't stand a chance, so I'd rather not get my hopes up," you rambled, failing to read anything on the page you were stuck on. "Can we please drop this now?"

"Oh my god," she smirked staring at you. "You're jealous."

You scoffed at her ridiculous accusation and shook your head as you closed the book and set it in your lap.

"I am not jealous. I do not get jealous."

"Yes, you are! You totally are!"

"I am not! I just don't want to talk about this anymore, alright? So can we drop it?"

"Alright, alright. Sorry I brought it up."

She couldn't stop smiling as you opened your book to continue reading. Although you weren't her parents, her mind couldn't stop thinking of a way to parent-trap you into getting together.

However, her plans were brought to a halt when Brandt's lackeys invaded the shop just a few days later.

You tried your best to stand your ground and defend the shop along with Stephen. He told you to leave, but you refused.

After the beatdown you both received unwillingly, a fire had been set and the cruel men left. The adrenaline that surged through your bodies was enough to numb the pain in order to get you both quickly back on your feet to put out the fire.

Between the blood loss and the resurfacing pain, the billowing smoke got stronger and stronger. The flames became too strong too quickly and had engulfed the entire wall across the front counter.

Light-headed and dizzy, Stephen tried to save whatever he could from the store. As you rushed back and forth, you realized that the fire had grown too much and swallowed the front entrance.

The heat of it shattered the glass windows. The open air only fueled the fire more. Coughing from the heavy smoke, both you and Stephen got down on the floor to avoid the unbreathable air and attempted to crawl to the back exit.

Everything went dark after that and melded into one huge blur.

You don't remember when you actually blacked out, but you do remember feeling relieved once you heard the fire department's arrival.

The time you spent in the hospital was short - only a couple of days - but it was enough to make you reflect on your life.

An overwhelming sense of regret washed over you as you thought about Dalton.

You'd only known each other for a few weeks, but what if you could've had something special? What if Charlie's jokes were true and he actually ended up to be your soulmate?

She could be wrong too, but the fact that you could've died and never found out if you ever really did stand a chance ate at your mind.

You hadn't fully realized the extent of your attachment until a couple days later.

You show up at the store with a limp from the beatdown you'd received a couple days ago.

Stephan tries to assure you they're fine, that you need to rest and recover, but you argue that you'll go insane if you stay at home with nothing to do, high on pain meds.

Helping the owners clean and salvage whatever they can, Charlie casually mentions that Dalton and left her and her father a suitcase full of money to rebuild the store before he got on a greyhound bus destined to leave Glass Key.

The same regret you'd felt in the hospital strikes you again and secretly consumes you.

You try to play it off and instruct her to not to tell anyone about the money. You barely understand what she said after that. All you can think about for the rest of that morning is that he left and didn't even say goodbye.

When Charlie and her father invite you to get some lunch with them, you politely refuse, opting to stay back and keep yourself busy. You lie and tell them you had a big breakfast beforehand just so they won't worry.

You promised you wouldn't get your hopes up. You knew better than that. Bouncers never last at the Road House. You know this just as well as any of the other residents of Glass Key.

He's gone now.

You just want to be alone for a bit to process it.

The door opens and the bell above it rings as you sweep away at the shattered glass, forcing you to look back over your shoulder.

The sight you see has you frozen in surprise.

His face is impossible to forget. You could never forget those big blue doe eyes, even with the dark skin that circles his right eye.

You groan lightly at the shooting pain from your broken rib as you straighten and turn to face him, holding the broom by your side as you stand next to it.

Dalton closes the glassless door behind him as he greets you with a silent but friendly smile until the cut on your lip and the black eye remind him of the damage he caused.

He doesn't look too different from you. His eye is still a little swollen but mostly black now, his lip busted and the stitches on his eyebrow are all evidence that business has been handled at the Road House.

"So, the Glass Key hero returns" you smile at him, ignoring the sting on your bottom lip. "Charlie said you were riding off into the sunset. You forget something?"

"I'm not a hero and, no, I didn't" he starts, looking around the burned down shop trying to swallow his guilt.

"Changed your mind?"

"Someone kinda changed it for me, actually. A very wise person told me that heroes don't always have to ride off into the sunset. They can stay and make a homestead instead."

Joy bursts within you like fireworks on new years. You try to fight back the smile that creeps onto you lips.

"Thought you weren't a hero."

"I'm not."

You nod biting the inside of your cheek to mask your excitement. You take the second broom that Charlie had been using earlier and left leaning against the wall by the front door.

"This homestead could use a hand" you smile and offer him the broom.

He takes it with a happy grin, feeling finally accepted as if he finally found somewhere he belongs.

"There's, uh, one more thing" he says in a soft voice.

His hand raises to your chin, tilting your head up as he cranes his neck to kiss you in the most tender of ways.

Unable to forget about Ellie, you place a hand on his chest and gently push to stop the kiss.

Dalton's face contorts with confusion. He doesn't notice the breath he's holding, anxiety settling in as he fears that you'll ask him to stop. Maybe he got the wrong signals and you don't like him that way. He'd respect it, if that's the case, but it doesn't mean his heart won't be crushed.

"I thought you were seeing Ellie?"

He blinks slightly surprised. That's not what he had expected to hear, but it makes him kind of happy that you're not asking him to stop.

"She took me on a date and we kissed, but that was it."

"So, you are dating her?"

"What, are you jealous?"

"Why does everyone keep saying that? I'm not jealous."

"You sound a little jealous" he smirks.

"I'm not. I just... I don't wanna get my hopes up."

"I'm not dating her," he says gently stroking your bruised cheek. "I told her there's someone else for me, someone that I really wanna date."

He gazes into your eyes as you smile up at him and let him continue his kiss. You let his lips linger on yours and smile when you feel them stretch into a grin.

The cuts on your mouths hurt, but neither of you bother to pull away.

His kiss gradually intensifies. His tongue flicks over your bottom lip, politely asking for entrance. His free hand reaches for your waist as the other sets against your cheek, leaving the broom tucked in his arm.

You let his tongue slip past your defenses. The gentle way his hand cradles your face has you holding onto his strong forearm and the other broom for balance as the room spins around you from his vertiginous kiss.

Your chest presses against his as you moan softly into his mouth. It takes him every ounce of his self-control to not pin you against the wall.

The bell rings again, alerting you both of another's presence so you quickly pull apart, trying to quickly compose yourselves. Your eyes shoot to the door along with Dalton's.

You realize who it is, so he shyly lets his eyes wander around what's left of the store and sweeps the ashy floor.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Charlie smirks sipping her juice from a straw as she stands in the doorway.

"No, no," you reply nervously as heat pools in your cheeks. "Dalton and I were just, uh, cleaning up."

"Cleaning what? The floor or each other's throats?"

Dalton snickers at her candor, glancing at you until she continues.

"Good to see you're back though. And if you ask me, it's about time."

#elwood dalton #elwood dalton x reader #elwood dalton x you #elwood dalton x y/n #elwood dalton fic #elwood dalton imagine #elwood dalton fanfiction #jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #jake gyllenhaal fanfiction #jake gyllenhaal fic #road house

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