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yanderenightmare · 3 years

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uhm, yandere Katsuki with a small reader... like idk how to explain but fluff fear? like waking up together but all she can think about is how loud he sleeps and how BIG he is, also him being a total bitch about how small she is?

yandere kidnapper ! BAKUGO KATSUKI

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goodiebag WARNINGS: dubcon/noncon mentions, kidnapping, abduction, abuse, degradation

PUFF

Waking up warmer than usual was something she’d gotten terribly used to.

It had only been a couple days. A couple days in a foreign house without anything to do except prance around in what lingerie Katsuki bothered to give her, or sleep the hours away. Where which the latter was undesirable, because she’d be risking getting snuck up on by the brute predator once he returned. So, she was left walking about, dragging tired limbs through barren hallways, stopping to take in the space of each impersonal room, half-naked and cold in the marble mansion, doing nothing but dreading the time her hero came home.

And in the absence of things happening, those moments where she was in fact preoccupied with something became so much heavier and longer than what they were in reality. Expanded, to the degree where she could pinpoint almost every single detail within the moment.

This was one of those moments.

She wanted to focus on the bed, soft material, caky and cloudy beneath her, but it was difficult to ignore the mass behind her. His nose poking into the top of her head, nuzzling in her hair, a good measurement of knowing how close his teeth were to her neck as heavy breaths ran down her neck like a chilling breeze, ticklish and disturbing like crawling mites. His chest, rising, pushing into her back, the beating of his heart rattling her ribcage. His hands, large and so very warm, warmer than they were supposed to be, scathed like sandpaper as they scratched in their presence by rubbing her hip, arms slung around her body haphazardly, caging her, suffocating her, pulling her close, holding her steady, trapping her.

Like a dragon protecting his treasure, she thought, but quickly discarded of the notion. It sounded too sweet.

Katsuki wasn’t sweet.

He’d come home yesterday, coated in smog, droplets of blood flecked on his sand-skin in no particular pattern. He didn't shower, he’d only grabbed her and walked off to bed. No words shared, only whimpers and dark, disturbing chuckles. She’d struggled, as much as she could against the brute, but it felt as though he enjoyed that more. Tightening his hold until she swore she began to hear her bones ache, bristle as he squeezed the air from out of her lungs.

She was happy she was spared his painful cock that night, but she was sure it would be a short-lived mercy.

His hold; though still strong, wasn’t as tight in the morning. She took it as an opportunity to create more space between herself and the fever-heat and blinding smell of caramel. She almost wished she could smell the blood and smoke instead, something bitter to disrupt the sickening sweet. She wished she could smell anything else, but even the smell of herself was overcome by him. She’d walked around the house thinking of it the other day, how it was almost as though he’d scented her, as though they were animals.

He didn’t take lightly to the disturbing of his slumber, grunting and growling, stirring that overbearing sense of fear inside her gut, her stomach folding in every possible way. She didn’t want to stop, she wanted to fight, she wanted to roar. He tightened his arms around her, squeezed her hip, planting her ass better against his crotch and she froze.

He smacked his tongue against his teeth. “Now what?” He coaxed. She expected his voice to sound groggy in the morning, but she’d learned in the past days, it never shed its ugly tone. “You gonna cry?” His voice sounding almost hopeful as he bit down on her earlobe, earning a gasp that along the way turned into a delicious little whimper. She tried clawing at his hand, his own nails digging into her skin. “Do yourself a favor and relax” All his taunting, patronizing overbearing words, dismissive to her discomfort, rather enjoying it, if only she could see the cracked smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. She kept struggling despite the obvious futility. “Yer’ not going anywhere, yer’ exactly where you need to be... exactly where you belong.” His tone was casual as he sucked in a breath, sighing with a grumbling growl, still sleepy, yawning behind her, comfortable when squeezing her plushie little form, keeping her close like child with a teddybear.

But he wasn't enjoying how her legs were kicking, despite the rest of her struggles being teasingly pleasurable.

Pushed down on her back, manhandled into position, he made to move himself between her thighs. Now, with more mistaken freedom, she tried pushing him away. Foolish fists hit against the stiff muscles of his chest, until he grabbed them by the wrists and pinned them above her head. His face so much closer now, but he didn’t kiss her, still longing to hear her speak up, to beg, to plead, to scream. But he remained close, knowing how every one of his words made her heart beat that much faster, and how those especially crude words made her quiver or better yet bleat, like a little lamb beneath him.

“Come on…” He hauled out. She barely made out the words, as far hidden in the growl as they were. His voice tickling her burning ear, his head resting its heavy weight on her arm. “I know I’ve been busy, but…” He spoke as though she wanted to spend more time with him. “It’s my day off.” His voice in singsong, as if she’d be excited, the tone sounding dreadful and wrong when coming from him, dark as it was. But it earned him what he’d been wanting, that soft and struggled sniffle, breath caught in her throat, an uncontrolled shiver breaking the sweet feeble noise.

Content with what he’d reduced her to, he rested his head on the pillow beside her face, his weight laid down upon her in a lifedraining fashion. He hummed, closing his eyes, enjoying her small frame beneath him. In her rightful place, he snickered. Eyes fluttering to look at her pretty face, hand covered in dried blood and smoke as it ascended to tug a lock of hair behind her ear, his thumb stroking over her lips when he made to retract it. The state of his skin made him cringe when he touched the fairness of her complexion. It felt wrong, he admitted.

They needed to find an even ground.

“Let’s shower, I’m dirty.” She could feel his lips on her ear now, but she was too shell-shocked to snap her head away, knowing what was coming.

In all honesty, she wouldn’t mind a shower. She’d been there a while and didn’t exactly feel clean with him spread, smeared all over her, inside her. But, he’d insisted on being so very close at all times, she was sure the same rules would apply in the shower.

She tried her best to fight, but it was all so easy to simply grab her arm and pull her with him, yanking on her like a child with a toy. Throwing her inside the large bathroom, with strength that almost had her falling to her knees.

“Take yer’ clothes off.” He commanded, having her backed up against the cold tiles of the walls. “Or… they’re not really your clothes.” He tugged at the black fabric of his shirt, one she’d put on after realizing her own clothes were far from wearable anymore, singed as they were.

Towering over her petite shape, enjoying how she had to tilt her head a drastic degree to stare up at him.

She was so tiny, it sent pleasurable shivers down his spine to look at her, small like a little pet. His shirt hung around her in the same way you’d expect a tent would, reaching all the way down to her knees, only barely fitting on her narrow shoulders.

She wanted to sound strong. “N- no.” It came out weak.

Snickering, he placed a hand on the wall beside her head. “I was hoping you’d say that…” His smile was so feral, she began wondering if smiles were ever a nice gesture in the first place. Katsuki seemed to do it simply to show her those large teeth stored in his mouth, teeth that could rip her throat out if he were dedicated enough. “Better you learn sooner than later just how helpless you are to stop me getting what I want.” He leaned in closer, stepping further into her space, threatening to crush her toes under the soles of his feet, his much too hot breaths striking her face on repeat. “Weak.” He spat the word, as though it were venom on his tongue. “Defenseless.” It disgusted him, distaste clear in the growl lacing his tone. “Fragile.”

He’d not gotten exactly what he wanted. He wanted her to scream, whether it was of rage or of fear, didn’t really matter. The tears were no less satisfying though, dribbling down her cheeks, eyes glossy and sparkling.

He grabbed the collar of the t-shirt. She felt the pull, but the tear still came as a surprise. The ripped fabric, now reduced to useless singed rags, pooling around her ankles, and she found herself regretting her wish to smell smoke because the burn of the textile at her feet was not the type of bitter like morning coffee, but bitter in the way that made her eyes sting. Her knees almost gave out when his hand neared her again, his other hand placed above her head, meaning to cage her in between his warmth and the freezing wall behind her.

Her nipples perked at once when he made contact, which made him smile, hand still hot, much too hot. He cupped one breast in his hand, much too small to fill it entirely. He didn’t seem to mind though.

“So soft…” The disdainful tone was gone, but she found herself missing it as opposed to what lingered in his voice now. “So delicate.” Lust was so terribly more frightening than his distaste. “So…” He licked his lips, a hot breath fanned over her face and goosebumps sprung to the surface of her skin. He hummed in response and she was sure she might just faint. “So sensitive.” She yelped when he pinched. “Mine.” His voice was low and rumbling, hot like raked coals. Tugging down her bottoms as well, she did little to prevent it.

Not that it would have mattered if she did.

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#yandere katsuki #yandere katsuki x reader #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere bakugo #yandere bakugou

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chubbyreaderchan · 4 years

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Take | Naraku x Reader

Warnings: Sexual themes, slight yandere naraku

Kinks: breeding, tentacles, mild force that is turned into want,

She was finally his.

Though he supposed it was a simple task of simply taking what he wanted. That’s how he got most of who he desired. He never thought he could love anyone. No, Naraku never thought he would be weak like Onigumo but alas he fell for a simple human girl. A daughter of a farmer. The weakest of the weak, yet her beauty was unmatched even by Kikiyo and her scent was intoxicating.

He stole her in the middle of the night and now she laid sleeping in his bed. She was never going to leave him. His cold fingers gently ran down her soft cheek and she twitched slightly, scrunching up her face in a way that Naraku could suppose one would call ‘cute’. He wanted her so badly, but he wanted her awake when he made her his.

He smirked when her eyes began to flutter open. Even when she was sleepy she was breath taking. Her eyes widened when they met his dark red ones. She opened her mouth to scream but Naraku quickly covered her mouth with his own wanting to taste her so badly. The look of fear on her face excited the demon.

Naraku’s tongue invaded her mouth, taking the kiss he had imagined many times before. He grabbed her, pulling her against him as she struggled against his strength. Finally, he pulled away from her.

“I suppose I should introduce myself to my darling mate...” Naraku said, continuing to hold her in his arms stroking the skin of their arms gently, in a way that he presumed would translate as loving to his partner.

“My name is Naraku... I have been watching you for a while now (Y/n)...” He gripped her chin between his finger and thumb to force her to look into his eyes. “You get more beautiful by the day.’ His thumb moved to gently stroke her bottom lip before he pressed a kiss against her mouth once more. She winced as she tried to pull away from her capture. He pulled away just to let her speak.

"Let me go!"

"Now, now" Naraku spoke teasingly. "Why would I let you go? And where would you go? That family of yours is gone... That boy... Was eaten by demons..." A smirk curled at the corner of his lips at the thought. "You're all mine now. And even if you tried to leave me... You wouldn't survive... If my demons don't kill you, my poison will. You are safest at my side, my dearest." She whimpered in fear of his greatness.

He smirked down at her. "Even someone as weak as you can detect my power, hm?" His eyes looked over every inch of her face. The submissive fear filled it causing him to chuckle. "Such a pretty face..." His hand ran down her body, in her sleep clothes there was barely any fabric keeping him from her.

"Fret not my little human" he tugged at the fabric. "You will want for nothing. In return I just want you body, mind and soul... I will give you anything you desire, my little princess..." With one tug he ripped the cloth on her pulling it down to reveal her breasts. He smirked down looking them over.

"Please..." She begged him. "Don't hurt me..."

He simply laughed as his finger tips danced over the skin, not yet touching her breasts but just above. It amazed him at house reactive her body was. Goosebumps flashed over her skin and her nipples were already hardening from such simple touches. "I would do no such thing... As long as you do as I say, my dear." His lips pressed against the line of her jaw, nipping and biting at the skin lower to her neck. He softly began sucking at the skin causing an involuntary moan escape her. Naraku loved the sound so he sucked again and nipped softly at the same spot. He pulled away to see the slightly darker spot on her neck, a bit of saliva attached him to her slightly but the image fueled Naraku's needs.

"Tell me," his hand cupped her breast, his thumb brushing feather light touches against her nipple. "Has a man ever pleasured you before, my dearest?" Her face was slightly scrunched, clearly trying not to enjoy his touch.

She didn't answer, causing Naraku to growl in frustration. His fingers pinched her nipple roughly and pulled. "Answer me, woman." She yelled in pain and pleasure of the rough feeling. "Well?" He wasn't as angry when he heard the sound that fell from her lips.

"N-never..." She whined as he let go of the nub with an evil smirk on his lips. He laid her down once more, kissing her down her neck again finally going to her breast where he softly sucked on her sore nipple. He nipped gently at the sensitive nub before moving to kiss and suck against the skin between her breasts leaving spots along her skin. He wanted to be sure if anyone were to see her that she was very much taken... not that many men would be seeing her anymore. It was the idea of marking her up that excited him.

“Please....” she begged him.

“You want me to stop, my little princess?” She paused knowing she shouldn’t want him to keep going but his touch was making her skin feel like fire and she just wanted more of him. Her head shook a no and her hands reached up to pull at his kimono.

“Ah... I see...” he chuckled. “You want more of me...” Naraku stared into her eyes. “I’m glad you are coming around to being mine so quickly,” (Y/n) looked away from his gaze in embarrassment. She shouldn’t be enjoying her kidnapper’s advancement. She cursed the fact that not only did his touches feel nice but she was starting to notice how beautiful he was in general. She wanted to cry out of frustration but she wanted him to keep touching her. She didn’t want to be trapped and yet she wondered if it would be so bad being in his care? But did he kill her family?

Her family just died and here she was trying to tear off the clothes of the man who may have killed them.

She was quite confused.

A ripping sound was heard and he finished tearing off her kimono before moving to remove his own clothing. His body was perfect, dark hair was contrasting against his pale skin. “I’m not done teasing you yet.” He smirked down moving to half lay on top of her. “But I will allow you to see me bare since you are being so good...”

The skin to skin contact caused her breathing to hitch, his cool hand ran down her ribs and over her hips then to her thighs. He settled the hand between her legs feeling the slick slit under his fingers.

He grunted in delight at the feeling, her hips in response to his touch bucked forward begging for more. Then Naraku paused as an idea popped into his dark thoughts. His body contorted slightly as a few root like things came from him.

“Do you still want me like this, my little princess?” Her eyes widened as he changed. She only felt his power but she had no clue what his power was. “Y-You’re a demon?” She whimpered. The root like body part crawled up between her legs and rubbed against her heat causing her to moan.

“Of course, my darling.” he smirked at the nervous expression on her face. “Answer.”

“Y-yes.” She admitted, then she felt the tip of the part rub against her clit causing her to moan softly. “Good... And here I was worried I was going to have to force you to be mine.” He laughed darkly. “Perhaps I didn’t have to steal you at all... you probably would have came to me on your own.” He kissed her cheek gently as the thick appendage rubbed fasted against her clit causing her back to arch. “You so wet my little princess.” he laughed again. “So sweet.” Without warning he pushed the part into her causing her to moan in pain.

“Ah... s-stop.” She begged and surprisingly her did.

“It’ll feel good in a moment.” He assured her, carefully pulling it out and pushing it back in slower. A whimper came from her again. “My little princess... you have permission to touch me.” He cooed into her ear. In an instant, her hands reached forward to run over his chest and down his body. His cock was fairly large but nothing unexpectedly huge, her fingers wrapped around his cock and he grunted in approval. “Just stroke it,” he instructed. He liked that she had no experience. He was going to teach her to be perfect for him.

(Y/n) did as he told her slowly stroking the rigid member. It was smooth and incredibly warm, then the soft moans that came from the demon’s mouth only encouraged her, as well as the thick root like body part that was now moving in and out of her hole.

The appendage inside of her brushed perfectly against her g-spot causing her to moan quite loudly, Naraku chuckled at the sound, he couldn’t wait to fill her with his seed. He wondered just how beautiful she would look carrying his children.

“Taste me.” Naraku demanded of her suddenly. She glanced up at him and he pulled the part out of her before slamming it back in roughly, wiggling it ever so slightly. “Ah!” She breathed out and he moved his cock into her mouth. “Lick it, my little princess.” Her tongue moved around the tip tasting him and exploring the salty body part. His groans only made her bob her head slightly almost on instinct. “That’s it.” Naraku cooed. But then she froze as she felt her body start to form a knot deep in her with each wiggling movement inside her. Without much work from him she came against the strange part.

“Ah...” He smirked again down at her, quite cocky at how quick she was to cum. He pulled his part from her and pulled her mouth away from his cock. “Maybe we can explore that later.... I need in you.” He sat back and pulled her into his arms and lined her up with his cock. “You are going to look beautiful growing me seed, (Y/n)” He whispered before pushing her down onto his cock, impaling her deeply. She moaned and shivered still not quite over her first orgasm from earlier. She quivered and lost a bit of balance, only catching herself by holding onto his pecks and her face landed almost into the crook of his neck. His hands moved down to her ass spreading the cheeks slightly as he began pulling her up and down against him. She moaned against the skin of his neck before softly kissing it. This surprised Naraku at how gentle the kiss was but he continued to fuck her.

Her nails dug into his arms as he did so, Naraku sighed out at how she felt around him. Her hands moved to touch more of his chest, exploring his skin once again. “You feel so good” he grunted into her ear as he thrusted up into her body. Soft sounds of slapping skin echoed erotically in the dark room along with moans from the both of them.

“Ah...” she whimpered again, moving to look at his face. He had a mix of pleasure and smugness in his expression as he slammed harder into her. “Do you like me inside you?” He spoke in a husky tone.

She nodded.

“Say it.” he commanded.

“I like it.”

“What do you like?”

“You... inside me.” He smiled before slamming his hand down against her ass cheek. He pushed her down back onto her back, slamming his hips harder against her own at a new angle. “I’m going to fill you with my seed.” He huffed pushing into her harder and deeper. “You’re perfect for me, my little (Y/n).” he growled out. “So tight... so wet.” He hummed with each thrust. “Your cunt was made for me,” He expressed, his fingers ran up her hips and grabbing her breasts again, her head lulled back as she moaned for him. “N-Naraku...” She called his name. “It’s going to happen again.”

“Go on then. Cum for me again, my little princess,” He stroked her nipple gently, speeding up in an almost inhuman way. A choking moan came from her mouth, cumming on him hard her body clenched around him just right causing Naraku to explode into her. He continued thrusting milking every bit of cum into her body before he crashed down on top of her exhausted form.

“Naraku” A voice called from outside of the room, causing him to growl.

“Kagura... what is it...” He grunted in annoyance, moving to pulled out of his newly claimed mate.

“I have retrieved a new shard.” She moved to open the door, barely aware of the scene inside. He sighed moving to stand up, but not before examining the work he put into the woman under him. He grabbed his baboon pelt, placing it over the slightly confused woman before walking to the door, not ashamed of his own nudity. He opened the door half way and took the shard without a word then closed the door quickly before Kagura could speak again. “Leave you stupid woman” He said to his incarnation. “Can’t you tell I’m busy with my mate?” He hissed out.

“Oh...” she said in surprise before leaving quickly. He looked at the small shard then at his woman.

“Now... where were we?” She looked at him shocked.

“Oh... I am not done with you yet, my little princess” he had a cruel grin on his lips as he came back to her.

#Naraku x reader #inuyasha imagines #inuyasha reader insert #naraku #smut without plot #i have no idea #kinda forgot what I was doing tbh

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girlmeetsliv3 · 4 years

Text

Head Over Heels II (Finale)

Killing Me Softly Sequel!

Yandere Hoseok x Reader ; BTS Member x Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5,626

Release Date: December 21st, 2019 @ 12 am (GMT-4)

Three years. It took three years for some semblance of normality to return to your life. It took three years for you to begin to see the world, not by it’s bad but it’s good. Three years and you were finally moving on. Three years wasn’t enough to stop his obsession. After three years, he was tired of waiting - you would finally be his.

Trigger Warning: The following story contains mentions of manipulation, abuse, harassment, and child k*dnapping. The behavior and mindset of the characters in this will be incredibly yandere and toxic. This is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent the character of bangtan sonyeondan. Enjoy ~~~

The last person you expected to see standing at the foot of your bed was Park Jimin. His hair had grown, but the blonde locks didn’t roughen him up, if anything they made him even more beautiful. A maniacal grin had spread his cheekbones wide apart and crinkled his eyes, it was as if the past three years had never occurred. You were beginning to wonder if prison had been nothing more than a temporary home for the men - and not the terrible punishment for actions you assumed it would be. “What? Didn’t you miss me?” He pouted, lips stretched out sensually. Park Jimin had always been aware of his allure. Even now when you were absolutely terrified of him, a part of you longed to kiss those lips. At your lack of response, Jimin rolled his eyes and walked to the side of your bed where he had better access to you. The closer he got the more you tried to wriggle away, but your attempts were useless Jimin grabbed your legs and pulled you towards him with ease. Not noticing, or caring, how unwilling you were to be touched by him.

“Now now. It’s best you behave. Wouldn’t want someone to be punished by your recklessness, would you?” He tilted his head pointing towards your nightstand, and your eyes dragged to the framed picture of Sun-Hi and you at the beach. That was all it took to set you off. You desperately tried to push against him and tried to hit him with your bound hands, exhaustion had worn away, as had fear. All you were concerned about now was about getting your daughter away from the lunatics that had ruined your life. “I swear to god if you touch a hair on her head -” Jimin laughed. A boisterous ‘ha ha ha’ sort of laugh. “Calm down momma bear. I won’t hurt our little girl, what kind of man do you think I am?” You hadn’t missed the ‘our.’ None of them knew whose daughter it was, that meant none of them would hurt Sun-Hi...for now. Jimin bent down to meet your eyes, “God how I missed you.” It was whispered so quietly, almost as if he was speaking to himself. His hand caressed your cheek softly, “I almost went mad when I thought we’d lost you and then we did.” He sounded so broken. You thought for a second you could see tears brimming in his eyes, but assumed it was a trick of the light.

“When you left, the first time, I didn’t know what to do with myself. But then we got you back just like Hoseok-Hyung said we would, only to lose you again.” He had stopped caressing your cheek. The hand now beginning to tighten on your jaw. “Do you know what it was like all those years? Without you? Without them?” All the sadness in his eyes had quickly disappeared and was suddenly filled with an intense rage. “Jimin - ” You tried to speak, but his hand only kept tightening on your jaw, forcing you to remain quiet. “I had to stand trial and listen to them call me a pimp, a kidnapper,” By now he had abandoned your jaw and instead had grabbed your clothes, hoisting you up in front of him. “A fucking rapist, Y/n. That’s what they said. They said we raped you.”Jimin yelled, his face mere centimeters from yours. Tears were now flowing freely down his face. Park Jimin had never been more broken or terrifying than he was to you at that moment. “You know what the worst part was? You never showed up. Not even once.” His voice had lowered significantly until he was whispering again. “You see that’s what really killed me. You didn’t even care enough to show up.”

Jimin threw you back onto the bed as if you weighed nothing. As if you were nothing. “I’m sorry Jimin. I was scared. I was so scared.” The words tumbled out of your mouth, as you sought a way to console him. “I- I-” You wracked your brain trying to find something, anything, that would help you get out of this situation. That would help your daughter get out of this situation. “I was afraid for Sun-Hi.” Jimin who had been pacing back and forth trying to control his anger came to a halt. His brows furrowed and confusion flashed in his eyes, “What?” This was it. “When I found out I was pregnant I freaked out.” Your hands began to tremble and you tried to interlace them together to make it less noticeable. “I wanted to tell you, but then I heard about the fighting. About how all of you were pinning the blame on each other and I was nervous.” Your eyes danced around the floor, as you tried to come up with something else. One more detail to make the lie seem believable. By now Jimin had begun to approach you, time was running out.

“I thought that if you found out I was pregnant by one of you. Then the rest would be mad and…” Jimin sighed, a small smile on his face. “You don’t have to be worried about that Y/n. After all, you can always have more kids.” Whatever little hope you had to reason with the madman died then and there. It appeared absence did make the heart grow fonder, for all of the men seemed more obsessed with you than ever before. “Jimin, where is Sun-Hi?” He shrugged before turning around and walking around your room, taking in his surroundings. “With her dad. Making up for lost time.” You jumped at his statement, “How do you know Hoseok is her dad?” Jimin chuckled though it lacked warmth, “Of course she would be his. You love him the most, it only makes sense.” No, that wasn’t it. It couldn’t be. “We also had a paternity test done this morning.” He casually added, as if it was a comment on the weather. “What?!” How had Hoseok even had the resources to do something like that? How had the rest of them when they were in prison? As if Jimin could read your mind, he answered all your questions.

“You’d be surprised what money can buy. Honestly, it wasn’t too bad. We all had our private cells, had food delivered, could read or watch television. Shit, the guards even looked the other way when one of us felt lonely and sought the other out.” It was a harsh slap of reality, but it was one that you needed. The system had failed you. They were supposed to keep you safe, but now you were tied on your bed with your daughter missing and the men who claimed to love you bringing havoc upon your life once more. Maybe things would be different if you had chosen a different path?

A phone went off startling you out of your thoughts, a smile broke out onto Jimin’s face. “Hi, sweetheart. How are you?” Immediately you tried to lunge at him but remembered that your feet were bound once your face hit the floor. Jimin tried to stifle his laughter, “I’m just here with Mommy. She’s talking about how much she misses you, maybe if she’s good you’ll see her soon.” You glared at Jimin with all the willpower you could muster, but it seemed to affect him very little. “You want to tell her goodnight? Um, I’m not sure Mommys' awfully busy. She’s all tied up now.” He giggled at his own little joke. “Jimin, please. Please let me speak to her.” You begged and even tried to crawl your way towards him, you couldn’t care less about how pathetic you looked groveling at his feet. “Hm…” His finger tapped against his chin, simulating deep thought. “You know what Sun-Hi, it seems Mommy can speak with you now.” Jimin crouched down and pressed the speaker button.

Nothing could be heard until a shy sleepy “Mommy?” was mumbled. You almost burst out into tears again. “Hi sunshine.” You tried to keep your tone light, but it took what little strength you had to do it. “Momma when are you coming? I miss you.” She extended the last part in a whine. Sun-Hi had a habit of becoming grouchy when she was tired. You tried to blink the tears away before Jimin could see them, but his eyes were glued to your face. Gauging you for any sudden movements or decisions, you decided to test your luck. “Mommy’s on her way. You’ll see me the second you wake up tomorrow morning.” Jimin’s tsked. “Really? I can’t wait. I miss you so much Mommy and so does Daddy.” You didn’t know how to respond to that. “Good night, baby. Sweet dreams.” Sun-Hi responded back enthusiastically, though you could still hear the sleep in her voice. “Goodnight Sunshine. Uncle Jimin will see you soon.” Then he hung up.

“Why sunshine?” Hoseok turned towards you, a confused yet intrigued smile on his face. You, on the other hand, were desperately trying to hide your reddened cheeks in his chest, whilst also making a grab for your phone. “I don’t know. It’s just a nickname.” You once again tried to reach for your phone but Hoseok easily outmaneuvered you. Your phone was being held above his head and his other hand had crept towards the back of your neck. “Nope. Baby or Babe would be a nickname.” He slightly pulled away, so that he could see your face. “But sunshine. That has to have meaning behind it.” If possible your cheeks became even redder. Hoseok laughed and tenderly kissed your lips, you melted into him like butter. You always wondered how he managed to do that to you - make you forget everything but him. Refusing to let the playful air die he continued, “Is it because I light up every room I walk into?” His eyebrow cocked and a teasing smile made its way onto his lips. “Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving him. “Or could it be because your world revolves around me?” Hoseok's smile only grew wider as you scoffed, “As if.” His hands trailed down towards your ass, where they rested before giving a firm squeeze. You jumped in surprise. “Is it because I’m hot?” He whispered into your ear, trying to be seductive.

You shoved him back softly, “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s just a nickname.” You tried to play it cool, refusing to let him know the effect he had on you even if it was far too late already. “Oh, so what, you call all your boyfriends Sunshine?” He was still trying to tease you, keep the mood light. But of course, you were far too worried about your feelings being exposed, especially when Hoseok wasn’t interested in you that way. “You aren’t even my boyfriend.” It had slipped out before you could even register what you had said. “What?” His voice had dropped several octaves, the way it usually did when he was angry. Immediately you turned around, holding your hands up. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that you’re special and - ” Hoseok was smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Cut the crap, sweetheart. I know what you meant.” It was moments like these that you wondered exactly what you were doing. Moments like these when you were afraid of him but didn’t know why. “I’m sorry Hobi. I really am. I made a mistake, it won’t happen again.” You reached out to touch him, but he recoiled as if disgusted by your touch. “Don’t ever say that again. You have no idea how special you are to me. I would do anything for you.” You nodded at his words and kept apologizing. Too naive to understand the weight behind what he said until it was far too late.

Jimin hadn’t trusted you enough to tell you where you were going. After, the call ended he merely threw you over his shoulders and back onto the bed, before disappearing into your closet. He emerged a few minutes later with your emergency suitcase, then he went out of the room into the one across. Coming back in with a small bag and Sun-Hi’s favorite stuffed animal a blue-ish horse with its nose in the shape of a heart. It worried you, the ease with which he had been able to know which toy to take, Sun-Hi’s bed was littered with them. Yet, he had known. “One more thing before we go.” Jimin had your phone in the palm of his hand, he flashed it in your face before the screen unlocked for him. “You’re going to call the police officer and say Sun-Hi has been returned and that the search can be called off. You’re also going to say that you’ve decided to take a break from the city given everything, but that you’ll be back in his office Monday morning to discuss everything.” He didn’t even give you a chance to agree, before dialing the number and holding it up to your ear.

After three rings, the gruffy voice of Officer Park answered, “Hello, Park speaking.” You repeated everything Jimin had told you to say, never straying from the script as his eyes bore mercilessly into yours. A part of you prayed that the officer would notice how strange all of this was, how calm your tone was compared to hours before. “Well alright child. I’ll see you Monday then.” The click signifying the end of the call was almost mocking. A scream threatened to claw its way out of your throat, but you swallowed it back. “Now that’s done.” Jimin turned off your phone before slamming it to the ground and stepping on it. There was so much force and aggression in every one of his movements you forgot the man in front of you was capable of being sweet, had been sweet, until he lost you. An uncomfortable feeling set in as you finally became aware of something: this isn’t like the last time. There’s no escape now.

Kim Namjoon toyed with the device in his hand, he wasn’t supposed to have it. Not really. But the guards had looked the other way whenever he and his lovers came into possession of certain items, as long as their pockets were lined with money they didn’t really give a damn. They hadn’t even been aggressive to them the first day, a little rough but that was nothing more than a scare tactic. The device vibrated in his hand and Namjoon unlocked it, reading the singular text.

Unknown: It’s been dealt with.

Namjoon smirked, he placed the phone under his pillow - if it could be called that - and laid on his side as images of what might happen next played in his head. Jungkook had been ecstatic during dinner today, barely able to contain himself until he saw his Hyungs. He’d spilled all the juicy details about how you’d finally come to visit him and how you hadn’t denied that Sun-Hi was theirs. Jungkook was practically bouncing with joy, and it would be a lie to say the youngest’s enthusiasm wasn’t contagious. It had been rough in the beginning, the idiotic lawyers they hired suggested that it would be better if they put the blame on each other rather than be tried as a group. Coming up with varying statements that clashed made it difficult for the prosecution to convince the jury, not to mention the lack of evidence. Namjoon had always been a cautious man, but even he made mistakes - he let his guard down around you. That wouldn’t happen again.

The device vibrated again, Namjoon frowned before his hand slipped under his pillow to drag the device out. This time it was two texts, each which sent him over the moon in different ways. Namjoon went to bed that night entirely anxious for the good news the morning might bring. Positive that for the first time in three years things would go his way.

Lawyer Lee: The committee has agreed to a hearing. If all goes well, you’ll be out of there in no time.

Jiminie: I’ve got her. We’re on our way now.

You could distantly pick up on the rhythmic sound of waves crashing, the roar of the ocean and wind arousing you from a deep slumber you didn’t even know you’d fallen into. As you stretch out your limbs, only to not feel them bound, another more quiet sound could be heard in the distance. It was giggling, the small bell-like laughter that could only come from a child, you tore your eyes open and tried to leap off of wherever you were only to be stopped by a hand wrapping around your forearm. There he stood, the man of your dreams, father of your child, and tormentor of your dreams. A pregnant silence hung between the two of you, as one waited for the other to speak. It was Sun-Hi’s giggles that broke the tension, your eyes darting past him towards the window. Outside in the gloomy weather, you could see Sun-Hi running around the beach smiling and laughing, whilst Jimin tried to catch her. Sun-Hi was always a bright child, but she seemed to radiate like never before. Hoseok cleared his throat drawing your attention back to him. Unconsciously you flinched, prepared for anything he might throw at you.

Instead, Hoseok only sighed, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss on your forehead. “I’ve missed you. I’m so glad you’re home.” You would always wonder how he managed to disarm you in less than ten words. A moan of pain escaped you, as he continued his assault. “I’ve longed for so long to hold you in my arms, Y/n. I nearly went mad.” His hand skimmed all over your body, but his touch was soft - as if you were made of glass. Of paper. “Seeing Sun-Hi grow up without knowing her dad and how much he loved her…you can’t imagine how much that hurt me.” It was as if every time he opened his mouth, he plunged even more daggers into your heart. He wouldn’t stop until you admitted your guilt, so you finally decided to spare your pride. “I love you Hoseok. I always have, I just…” don’t love them. Not the way you want me too. Tears streamed down your face and sobs violently shook your body.

“I can’t be with them, Hoseok. I’m sorry I can’t.”

He shook his head, hands coming up to cup your cheeks. “But you love me, don’t you? Wouldn’t you do anything for me?” Yes. Yes. Yes. “But not that.” Any sympathy Hoseok may have felt for you or shown you, dissipated. “We’re a package deal, Y/n.” His voice lacked any warmth. Your time was running out and you found yourself at a fork in the road: one decision would damn your soul, but the other your heart. So you tried to reason with him, not for you but for the only other thing you could find, “What about Sun-Hi? She won’t understand. She has friends, classmates,” You desperately pleaded, “She might not understand why she suddenly can’t go back to that life anymore.” Hoseok only laughed at your worries, “She’s three Y/n. The only thing she needs is her parents, a roof over her head, food, and love and affection. She has plenty of that to go around.”

Alright, so option two then. You let out a long sigh and sat back on the bed seemingly resigned. “Please let me see her.” Hoseok raised an eyebrow as he folded his arms across his chest. “She’s my daughter, dammit. Let me see her.” You yelled at him, a mixture of frustration and exhaustion causing more tears to flow. He crouched in front of you, his hand tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Not like this, you’ll scare her. Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” The Hoseok you knew was back: your sweet, loving, affectionate sunshine. You melted like putty in his hands as he escorted you to the bathroom, giving you your privacy but making sure you knew not to take too long. On the way there you passed another window, one that displayed a narrow road shrouded with long trees on either side. Deja-vu welled up in you. You’d been here before.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Sun-Hi ran straight into your arms, her short stature and low-weight making it easy for you to pick her up with ease. “Oh, my baby. How I’ve missed you.” You kissed her face all over, as she tried to push you away softly. “Look, Mommy. I found a seashell.” The shell in her hand was white with a bold stripe of grey running through it. “It’s beautiful, Sun-Hi.” Her cheeks reddened at the compliment before her eyes caught onto someone else. “Look, Daddy. I found a seashell.” Sun-Hi was desperate to be free of your arms, so she could run into her father’s, so you set her down with much reluctance. Immediately Hoseok scooped her up, congratulating her and blowing raspberries on her stomach until your child was hollering with laughter. “Aw aren’t they the cutest.” Immediately, you stilled as Jimin wrapped his arms around your waist. “I can’t wait until that’s us.” He murmured in your ear, lightly nipping at the lobe until it became red and you lightly hissed. Satisfied with your response, Jimin chuckled before making his way over to Hoseok before whispering something in his ear and kissing Sun-Hi on the cheek.

“Uncle Minnie will be back soon, okay?” He spoke, the toddler nodding before returning her attention to her father. Hoseok nodded at Jimin before both of the men’s eyes landed on you. Jimin walked towards you, gripping the back of your neck and harshly planting his lips on yours. “See you later, Darling.” With that he walked out the door, leaving the three of you all alone as you planned your escape.

A children’s movie played on the television which took up much of the wall. You recognized the bright colors and cheery music, it was your daughter’s favorite - it seems he knew even that too. Sun-Hi was between the two of you, eyes glued to the screen, with you on her left and Hoseok on the other side. His arm was thrown over the back of the couch, whenever you shifted too suddenly for his liking he would grip your shoulder. Other than that, it was a nice normal evening. You had to act fast. “Are you hungry, Sun-Hi?” She briefly turned towards you, nodding before gluing her eyes back to the screen. “Hoseok,” you whispered trying to draw his attention, not that it wasn’t already on you. “She has to eat.” You didn’t give him a chance to respond and made your way towards the kitchen, opening the fridge as you pretended to search for food. When you didn’t find anything useful, you opened the drawers and cabinets.

“I told Jimin to bring food.” His voice startled you. Of course, he wouldn’t leave you alone, you had counted on as much. “She needs to eat real food, not takeout. I can cook.” You began to rummage again, this time finding some beef, pasta, and tomato sauce. “See look. I’ll have it done in no time.” You crouched down to search for a pot or pans and were beyond relieved when you found them. Fingers danced along your sides, as Hoseok came to rest his head above your shoulder. “Y/n. Don’t treat me like a fool.” Your hand tightly gripped the metal handle on the black pan. You would wait patiently and then hit him over the head with it. One blow, maybe two, and you would be able to escape. Hoseok sighed, “I think there are several things you’ve left unaccounted: for one, Jimin might be on his way. Two, Sun-Hi might not react in a positive way of seeing mommy bash daddy’s head in.” Your grip wavered. Focus Y/n. This is what he wants.

You refused to reply, to play his games. You should’ve known better. “Turn around.” It was an order, something not to be disobeyed. Yet, you stood your ground. His lips ghosted the shell of your ear, hot breath fanning it. “Please, darling. Please~” He all but whined, but it was obviously a farce. You swallowed thickly and tightened your grip on the steel pan. It seems Hoseok had enough, “There are other ways for me to punish you now…” His voice trailed off, clearly implying something. That was only confirmed when his head moved from your shoulder to glance back at your daughter. Immediately you turned around. Just one strike and he’s out. Hoseok saw the fire glowing in your eyes and smirked, clearly enjoying this game. “I’ll tell you what, you can go.” What?! “What?” You spoke, shock evident on your features. For a brief moment, you forgot what you were planning to do and that was all he needed. Just a brief moment, to completely trap you in the intricate web they’d sewn together.

“You can leave. I know that’s what you want. To run far away from here with Sun-Hi and never see each other again. If that’s what you truly want Y/n. I’ll give that to you.” Hoseok leaned back against the countertop, “Go do it now before Jimin comes back. He’s only ten minutes out, but if you head east you’ll find the main street and I’m sure you’ll be able to figure it out from there.” There was nothing in his voice or eyes to indicate that he was toying with you. Nothing in his beautiful hazel eyes that displayed anything other than honestly. “Why?” You should’ve known better than to question things, you should’ve just taken Sun-Hi and runaway. Unbeknownst to you, a step was taken to close the gap between the two of you. You were still reaching for him - longing for him. You still loved him.

Hoseok rolled his eyes, as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. “Because my love for you will never die. No matter what.” The distance between the two of you, which was short, to begin with, kept decreasing. “I know you better than anyone else does Y/n. When the going gets tough you run; from responsibility, affection, love. But I also know that you are one of the most selfless people I know.” Hoseok took another step forward, this time your chests were touching and your faces mere centimeters apart. “You would never sacrifice someone else’s happiness for your own well-being.” You should’ve known better than to believe he’d show you mercy. No. This is what he’d been waiting for all along, the moment he could use your biggest weakness against you. “You can run away, but we’ll always chase. You’ll never have a normal life… and neither will your daughter.” The frying pan slipped from your hand, the loud ‘clang’ it made echoing loudly against the room. Sun-Hi was clearly frightened, she jumped off the couch and ran towards you. “Mommy, are you okay?” Her soft chubby hands wrapped around yours as she gazed up at Hoseok. He smiled reassuringly, “The pan was just too heavy so it fell.”

Sun-Hi looked up at Hoseok, her brow furrowed in confusion before she looked at you again. It took all your strength not to break under her innocent gaze, you had experienced so much growing up you couldn’t bear to have her live through even a quarter of it. Aren’t parents supposed to provide a better life for their kids? You owed her that much. Slowly, you crouched in front of her a forced smile on your face. “That’s right it was just too heavy. Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m alright.” After a couple of seconds, the toddler nodded seemingly accepting what she had been told at face value. She was barely a child and couldn’t understand that not everything was as it seems, you didn’t want her to lose that innocence just yet. “Go back and finish watching the movie. Mommy and Daddy will be there shortly.” You gently guided her out of the kitchen, content when she returned to her previous spot and focused on the graphics in front of her.

All you could do was stare at her from the threshold, wishing things were different. Wanting to have made better choices. Regretting certain decisions. Your time had passed, things were no longer about you - nor could they ever be any more. Hoseok stood beside you observing Sun-Hi with a tender smile on his cheek, “No harm will ever come to her. She’ll grow up loved and cared for, just like you should’ve been.” Cautiously he pecked your cheek, pleased when you didn’t recoil away. Not that you could, you had become numb to it. The decision you made settling deep into your core. Hoseok’s fingers hooked under your chin and forced you to look at him, “Come on now, sunshine. Don’t you love me?” Once again, he managed to disarm you with so little effort. You practically melted into his arms.

Lights suddenly shone from outside, before they suddenly disappeared. The door opened a couple of minutes later and in strolled Park Jimin with two bags of takeout and a new stuffed toy for his favorite niece. Jimin would make it a habit to always bring something home for Sun-Hi, until the day when he brought something for his own child. For now, he settled on the current situation though hope did bloom in his chest at the sight of your pouty lips pressed against Hoseok’s even if it was just for a second or two.

Monday morning rolled around and Officer Byunghoo Park sipped on his coffee as he waited for his next appointment to roll around. The Sun-Hi case had been an absolute disaster, but his commissioner didn’t seem the least bit concerned in a child disappearing only to be returned the same day. Nor did he seem to care that the child’s elusive mother had all but disappeared. To be fair, Park had his fair share of drinks that night and when his phone had rung at such a strange hour he picked up more out of a sense of duty than want. It should be of surprise to no one that he barely picked up on what the women said, it wasn’t until the next morning that he entered his office and saw the file that he recalled the strange conversation.

Immediately he attempted to contact you but had no luck. His partner was completely useless as always, but any questions he had would be answered today, in about ten minutes or so. A quick knock on the door, disturbed his train of thought before he grumbled a ‘come in.’ A well-dressed man in a tailored suit with a black briefcase entered the room, he gave a curt bow and introduced himself as Mr. Lee. “I’m here in place of Ms. Y/l/n. She didn’t feel safe coming in, I hope you understand.” Park furrowed his brows, “Why wouldn’t she feel comfortable? Her daughter’s back isn’t she?” The lawyer chuckled humorlessly, “Oh yes, especially after the kidnappers were caught. But still -” Park jumped out of his seat almost comically, “What do you mean the kidnappers were caught? I’m in charge of the investigation and have never heard about any of this?!” Lawyer Lee attempted to hide his disdain for the man, but his patience when dealing with cretins could only extend so far.

“Oh were you not aware that the Gangnam police were also running their own investigation? See the day-care from which the child was taken happens to lie right at the border between your jurisdiction and theirs, so they took up the case.” The words flowed so smoothly out of Lee’s mouth as if it were the most obvious thing. “I’m supposed to be notified when another sector wants to undergo the same investigation. Why wasn’t I notified?” Park scattered through his notes, searching for a map of the city and Gangnam’s contact information. “Now Mr. Park, I believe that is something you should take up with them. I’m nothing, but the messenger.” There was something Park didn’t like about Lee’s tone - the sardonic nature of it. As if he were speaking down to him. “The perpetrators turned themselves into Gangnam police and the child was returned.” Before anymore question could stumble out of Park’s mouth, Lee stood up and opened his briefcase taking out a manila envelope and placing it on the officer’s desk.

“I am sorry, but I do have a very important meeting with another client across town. Ms. Y/l/n only sent me here to say thank you for everything you’ve done. After all, because of your skills, her family is now reunited.” Lee bowed before quickly excusing himself. Park had wanted to question the man over the contents inside the bag but recalled encountering a similar situation on his past. He didn’t need to know what was inside the envelope, all he knew was what he needed to do. Rather quickly Park found Sun-Hi Y/l/n file and typed in whatever information he deemed fit, before moving his mouse over to a red button at the top corner. There was no hesitation in his clicking of ‘close.’ Nor in the depositing of the case file into the resolved folder. After all, your family was reunited once more - wasn’t that what you wanted in the first place? Who was he to question it?

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 4 years

Text

Boys and Girls

Inspired by Boys and Girls by Alabama Shakes. A little sweet birthday blurb/mini fic.

I am taking commissions by the way!

Calum likes to take it easy on his birthday. And she’s got a sweet little plan.

___________

I’m rescuing you from the bars tonight. 11 pm sharp.

Calum relays the message to Ashton, the man in charge of climbing-into-birthday-hours festivities. Calum’s birthday celebrations usually only went for a day. He liked having some time to be at peace during the day on his actual birthday. The idea of pre-graming his birthday the night before and then having a nice dinner the day of was ideal to appease the friend group that never fully needed a reason to go out onto the town.

Ashton nods though at Calum’s request. “You know the party will be rolling on for a while if you ever care to rejoin us.”

“I’m aware,” Calum returns as his phone shakes again with a message from her. Wear something cozy too.

This is the sort of deal people get when they’re getting kidnapped you know, he replies with a grin on his face.

Trust me, this is not the warning a kidnapper gives.

Any clue on what’s going down?

No. No clues.

That’s the last time Calum’s phone shakes from her. He assumes it might be work and doesn’t bombard her with any more messages. Though he does think it’s unfair, he doesn’t want to fully ruin whatever surprise she has planned. Both of them have been friends ever since Calum spilled his drink in the cafe that she worked. She wheeled the mop out with a laugh as Calum apologized profusely.

“Accidents happen. Let me get you a refill.” She covered the spill, or at least the majority of it, up with the dingy yellow bucket, before going back behind the counter and washing her hands. The machines kicked back to life. She personally walked the drink over to him.

“I swear I’m not this much of a klutz most days,” Calum sighed.

“Well, I am. So let me tell you, it’s not the end of the world. Drink your coffee. The caffeine will get those motor skills right again.”

Calum was thankful that at this time of the day the cafe wasn’t busy or else the morning crowd running to get their caffeine before their days started would not have been pleased with his accident. After that, Calum returned to the cafe more regularly. She had memorized his order so that on sight she had the card reader ready as she ran down the specifics. They chatted during her breaks sometimes. They grabbed lunch at the little Mexican restaurant across the street during her lunch break.

She was always planning something, Calum had learned. When he mentioned Duke, on more than one occasion, she asked about his birthday and what kind of toys and treats he liked. The questions had not prepared him for when she knocked on his door about mid-morning three weeks later with a huge basket in her hands. It was filled with toys, treats, and a couple other necessities like doggy bags and training pads. It didn’t stop her from mailing him flowers on Valentine’s Day with a note that read, Love sucks. But you don’t. So here are some flowers. Calum still uses that notecard a bookmark in all the random novels and collections of poetry that he reads.

****************

The bars are packed; the streets are buzzing with people and heels clicking and loud laughter. It’s to be expected on a Friday night in a city is constantly on. Calum keeps a close eye on the time. He doesn’t dare want to miss his rendezvous time. He promised to share his location at 10:00 and again at 10:30 so she could figure how far into the city his friends had carried him. It’s early now, just barely ticking past 9 pm. They agreed to take the night slow so that everyone could actually remember ringing in the birthday and so Calum wouldn’t be sloppy when she came to get him.

The first sip of alcohol burns a little--it’s not great. Calum screws his face up and wants to ask who the hell ordered the first round. But a mixed drink is slipped into his hands soon after. The nearly sour taste is gone under the slight fizz of his new concoction. They're ushered upstairs to VIP, hands stamped as they go. From above, Calum can see the mass of bodies on the floor below. He watches them, swaying collective in the first haze of alcohol slowly dulling his senses.

The lights strobe, flashing reds, yellows, and purples across his face. Calum doesn’t really pay attention, attempting to suck in the smell of sweat and old alcohol. He lets the buzzing of the speakers blasting music crawl into his ear, peel back his eardrum and nestle into his brain. He takes another sip, feeling the warmth radiating from his chest. Laughter erupts from behind him and he turns to rejoin civilization, the collection of his friends settling onto couches.

Calum nurses the drink until they decide to leave. He checks his phone again to see the time. 10 pm. They wonder for just a block before landing another bar. This one smaller, more intimate. When the whole group settles into a booth, Calum pulls up her thread. He slides right under the message bar and taps on the small Google Maps icon. It takes a moment before his GPS locates the address and he taps for it to send.

She responds with the thumbs-up emoji before another one lights up his screen. I’m actually not too far from there. Let me know if you guys wander to the strip club.

Calum can almost hear the sarcastic lilt, the little giggle she’d give if this were in person. There would be a seriousness to her face though. She’d laugh but her tone always told on her. Always said that she wasn’t truly joking. I won’t. Unless you’re working tonight, which means I have to, of course, support you.

I do not have the body for a stripper. But thanks for the vote of confidence you goober.

A can clinks on the table and Calum looks up. He recognizes that can anywhere and grins. “Thanks.”

It’s here, when the group shimmies themselves out onto the dancefloor, that Calum knows they won’t be heading anywhere else. He calls for a quick breather and leans against the booth and finds his phone. I think we’re here for the rest of the night. It’s 10:48 when he sends the text and pockets his phone again. He spies Luke attempting to pass along the wave but no one bites and he laughs into his can.

One of their photographers and good friend walks over. “You waiting for someone or enjoying your birthday?”

“Both,” Calum returns, still grinning. He can feel his cheeks splitting a little with the slightly tipsy laughter that shakes him. Ashton’s attempts at teaching his dance are going poorly, but the older man refuses to give up.

“Easy there big fella,” Calum bellows when another friend almost goes face-first into the floor. Calum helps him steady. “Dancing is not for you.”

They laugh in return. “Maybe not. No.”

Calum feels the shake in his pocket of his phone. He gives his goodbyes, though most of them don’t hear or don’t really acknowledge his parting. It’s 11:00 pm sharp when he steps outside and reads her text. Outside. He spies her, leaning against the front of her car. And he knows it’s her thanks to the banana colored leather jacket. She’s worn it almost every day it seemed that he’s known her.

It was different for sure and it was starting to show it’s length of wear. But she wore it all the same and didn’t care. He checked the size once, plans brewing to maybe replace it with something similar or get another one. He spied one that was burgundy that he thought she might like. He wasn’t sure, but the cropped jacket had all the chains it could handle and he knew she like the zipper and chains.

When he gets closer, she runs over and wraps her arms around his middle. “Hey,” he whispers, encasing her waist with his arms.

“Hey,” she grins. They remain close, swaying a bit with the hug, for a few minutes. She pulls back first. Her smile is bright in the neon lights of the bar. “It’s a bit of a drive. But I brought snacks!”

Calum nods. “Snacks are good.” They walk to her car, though it’s not that far with his arm around her shoulders and her arm around his waist. “What’s in store for me?”

“Just you wait and see.”

Calum can see Duke when he cracks open the door, curled up in her backseat. “How’d you get into my house?”

“You gave me a spare key you idiot. He’s a sleepy boy, so keep your voice down.” Calum is careful as he picks up Duke before settling into the passenger seat. The windows are cracked and when she finally gets up onto the interstate, Calum lets the breeze whip across his face, one hand gently petting at Duke’s head.

Her radio plays quietly, much better compared to the rattle of the clubs where he couldn’t hear his own voice talking. The moonlight is bright on the clear night and even though the lights are polluting the sky, Calum makes a point to follow the moon as they zoom south on 110. As they pass buildings, Calum notes which windows are bright and which ones are dark. He wonders what’s happening there. If someone is gearing up for a late-night binge or if they are getting ready for the day ahead of them. What does it feel like to have a job where the clock starts dead in the night and ends when the morning sun has skirted around the horizon? The same could be said for his job, for his line of living but it’s different. He gets a break and snaps back to reality here and there.

“Thanks for letting me kidnap you,” she says, as they get stuck behind just a small bit of traffic.

“You told me that wasn’t a warning that kidnappers gave.”

“It is. But I never said I wasn’t a kidnapped. Besides you’re a grown man, is it still kidnapping? What’s the version for adults being snatched up?”

“I’m not The Google,” Calum retorts before pulling out his phone. For a brief moment he wonders if he should actually Google this question. The search history would not look good if something were to happen. But he knows nothing will.

“According to The Google,” Calum starts, “‘A kidnapping does not have to include a child. To kidnap is to take someone illegally by force, whether they be adult or child.’ So, to answer your question, yes, it is.”

“The Google has spoken.”

Putting his phone into the empty cup holder, Calum reaches for the dial on her stereo. “Birthday rights?” he asks before touching the dial.

“You know you’re the only one that control the radio even if I’m driving. I’d murder anyone else.”

“I’d be careful about that kind of stuff. Duke is sensitive about that.”

“It’s not like I said I’d murder you. And if I did, I would steal Duke and run away.”

Calum squawks his laughter, wanting to hit her leg gently but reframing because of her driving. “That’s wrong on so many levels.”

“Duke would be the only one that would know. He’d rat me out. And normally, I’d say kill all the witness but I can’t in this situation.”

Calum just watches her in disbelief. The lights of the highway pass over her skin in patches. “God bless the person that snatches you up,” he murmurs. She looks at him, a bit of a glare and her lower lip rolls out. But then she laughs before turning her attention back to the road. “Where are those snacks?” he asks.

She throws her thumb over her shoulder and Calum twists, to find a reusable bag full of snacks. He grabs the bag of cheez-its on top and pops open the mostly air-filled bag. The cheese dust falls a little and Calum makes sure to lean a little over Duke’s sleeping figure. The first bag goes faster than Calum cares to admit and when he goes back for another bag, she laughs. “How drunk are you?”

“I had a shot and two drinks!” he defends, popping open the second bag too. “So bite me.”

It’s when they find the shore and Calum catches the crashing of the waves that he starts to worry. No beach can be open at 11:53 at night. But as they near and he peers the sign, stating they’re 24 hours, he swallows back down the protest. The whole boardwalk is alive though. He can see the lights reflecting off the water and the line of neon lights. People are walking in and out of the dive bars and pups. “You know we could’ve gone to Santa Monica for the beach?” he returns.

“Oh, c’mon that was a nice drive.”

He nods, taking her hand for a brief moment. They always have nice drives. Just feeling the wind and talking about everything under the sun. His eyes dance across the scenery. Duke’s aroused awake but Calum holds him close. She goes around to the trunk and it’s only the sound of it slamming close that gains his attention. She’s got a basket in one hand and the tote on her shoulder. “I can help.”

She shakes her head before trailing ahead of him. They pause for a moment to work off shoes before delving into the sand. Calum takes a deep breath of the seawater, the way it’s lapping at the shoreline. She places a blanket down not too far into their trek and Calum continues on, pausing to set Duke down for just a moment. Calum works up the legs of his jeans. The movement causes Duke to wake and watch. His paws hit the sand faster than she can catch him and Calum notices the clinking of tags before he hits the water.

“I don’t think she’s prepared for wet dog smell for an hour, bub.”

Calum steps until the water hits his ankles and stops. The water is definitely cold. It makes him clench his jaw a little. But he likes the shock. Takes a bit of the heat off from the alcohol. He’s almost 24, almost inching towards more milestones in his life. He wonders what 24 will bring him--if it’ll be nice in love and bigger in success. Does he even need to worry about success?

How come 24 really doesn’t feel any differently than 23 or 22? Age was catching up, he noticed. His body not breaking down food like before, the random aches in his knees sometimes. Though he blamed too many punk jumps from the early days. Maybe just felt differently when he didn’t feel like he was racing against a clock or someone else’s expectations. His life was going well and that’s all he could really ask for. He still had his health, he could still spoil his mother and his sister like he wanted as a thanks to them. He could even spoil his old man and his friends.

Yeah, his relationship with time had changed. He wasn’t running for anything and didn’t have to anymore. Things would come in due time. All he had to do was just be there for the opportunities when they came knocking.

“Happy birthday!” she cheers. “Officially 12:01, January 25th.”

Calum turns to find her, not too far behind him with a cupcake in hand. “You didn’t tell me there were cupcakes.”

“There are always cupcakes!” She is not a singer. By no stretch would she ever consider the profession, but her voice is lovely as she sings Happy Birthday to Calum, standing in freezing water and the candle flickering in the breeze off the water. He worries that the flame will go out but her hand cups against the air and it remains lit.

Calum’s gentle as he blows out the candle, eyes still closed from his wish. She pulls the candle free and shoves the icing into his nose. Calum huffs, attempting to lick it off. He’s thwarted by his own tongue and trying to keep Duke away from it too. Her giggles echo against the waves. He can’t even be mad. They hike back to the blanket and she hands him a napkin to clean his nose.

He swipes the icing off and dollops it onto her nose. The cupcake is still moist as he takes a bite of it. “I know it’s not a lot. But I know home means a lot to you.”

Calum’s quick to scarf down the rest of the cupcake. The drinks have him still just a hair fuzzy and he’s sure the sugar’s only going to serve him into a headache, but for the moment he can indulge himself into the sweet treat. She holds out the small gray velvet box.

“I’m just glad it’s not a giant basket of stuff like you did for Duke. Transporting that into my house drunk would be a stuff time.”

She snorts. “Which is why I’m sober. I’ll keep that in mind for next year.”

Calum looks at her, fingers still poised around the gray box. Next year. A funny phrase to think about when the hallmark of his physical body has already hit. “We’re gonna be friends so long they’re going to write stories about us.”

Her nod is curt. “Open the fucking present. I can’t wait for you to cry like a baby.”

He balks, eyes widening. “I would never do such a thing.” Her pursed lips and quirked eyebrow state otherwise. “Okay, maybe just a little.”

The box is a little stiff to open and when his eyes land on the gold ring with two silver ferns etched into his, his heart races. His eyes sting a little. “Really?” He hates that she was right but the first teardrops and his lower lip wobbles a little. “For me?”

“I don’t know any other Māori men that would want a silver fern ring, so yeah for you.”

Calum doesn’t even slip it on. He just reaches out and brings her into his chest. “I love it. I love you. Thank you.”

“Love you too, Cal.” There’s just a moment’s silence before she pokes his side. “I told you you’d blubber.”

“Shut up. Let me have this moment. It’s my birthday, asshole.” She giggles into his chest but remains silent on the snarky remarks.

Calum watches the ring catches the light as they return to the highway. The gold is bright and flashes. He hasn’t stopped staring at it and though he hasn’t gotten back into wearing rings too much, he knows from this moment on, he’s going to be wearing this one every day. The ferns disappear just a little when he tilts it away from him but when he brings the flat face back into his view he sees their etchings.

Ashton’s messages are unanswered on the drive back home because Calum can’t bring himself to look at anything other than a ring and the girl sitting next to him. God, he’s lucky to have her in his life. They haven’t known each other that long, in comparison to the decade he’s spent with the guys. But the two years have been full of stupid inside jokes, like adding ‘the’ in front of Google and a constant string of text that consists of ‘you suck but you’re stuck with me. so I still love you’ and pictures of dogs she sees at work.

It’s just past one in the morning when she pulls into Calum’s driveway. He insists on her staying the night since it’s so late and she has to be up early. There’s no real protesting, even as he shoves her into the bathroom to shower. “What about a deal?” she asks, watching him turn the water on.

“No deal. Just stay here. It’s too late for you to be driving.”

“You can drive,” she grins.

“I’ve been drinking so I will be driving nothing. Now, strip and shower. I won’t be hearing any further arguments on the case.”

“We’ve watched too many law shows,” she counters, leaning into the door.

“Or maybe not enough,” Calum counters, kissing her forehead. He turns from the door, pulling at the sleeves of his jacket.

“If I ever did start striping, would you actually come to the club to see me?”

Calum nods, a hum falling over his lips. She’s hidden by the door but her head peaks out over it. “I surely would. Once you got a solo dance, I’d spent a thousand on you in a heartbeat.”

“You flatter me, Hood.”

“What else are friends for?”

The door creaks closed and he’s a little slow to take off his clothes. Soon the shoes, jeans, and shirt fall into a pile onto the floor. He has half a mind to kick them over to his laundry basket but he falls into his bed. She’ll do it and fuss the entire too at him. To his shock, when she returns, she falls into bed next to him.

“I feel bad that I have to work on your birthday,” she admits.

“You’ll be there for the dinner though, right?”

“Of course!”

“Then it’s all good, sweetheart.” She curls up under his sheets, Duke pressed into her chest. “Happy birthday,” she repeats, eyes falling closed.

“You’re the best, ya know?” Calum returns. He’s sure she has succumbed to sleep and he’ll follow her soon into unconsciousness but he toughs it out a moment or two longer after her. “Glad you’re my best friend.”

He watches her chest fall evenly under the sheets. She’s asleep, he concludes when she gives no rebutall, so he clicks off the bedside lamp. “Ashton’s going to be pissed if he hears I took his place.” Her cheeks squished into the pillow makes her voice muffled as she speaks.

Calum’s laughter shakes his chest. He finds one of the smaller pillows from behind his head and throws it blindly in the direction of her side of the bed. “Oof,” she huffs at the impact.

“Tell him and I have to kill you.”

“Okay, secret’s safe with me.” More silence ensues. Calum feels himself sinking into the mattress. It’s not hard thanks to the alcohol making his limbs heavy. “For now.”

“Oh my god, if you do not shut up.”

“What are you going to do? Hit me with another pillow.” Calum gives no verbal rebuttal but finds the last pillow at his disposal and whacking her with it. “Ouch!” she hisses. “I’m not fixing you breakfast tomorrow then. Take that.”

“You mean later this morning.”

Calum gets a pillow to the chest and it partially clips his chin in response. “Hey!”

“Good night, Hood.”

“Good night, sweetheart.” The bed dips and then there’s nothing else. He just sinks, and sinks, and sinks.

Tagging: @glitterlukey @5-secondsofcolor @irwinkitten @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles

#calum hood #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fic #calum hood blurb #calum hood fluff #calum hood x reader #reader insert #5sos #5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #michael clifford #song rec #song blurb #h writes

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holylulusworld · 5 years

Text

How to kill your wife - Part 10 - Getting your life back

Summary: When his father makes a deal with his business partner Dean must agree to an arranged marriage. Hating the thought with every fiber of his body he plans to get rid of you.

Pairing: MobsterDean x Reader, John Winchester, Benny Lafitte, Crowley, Eldon Styne, Jacob Styne, Castiel Novak

Warnings: angst, fluff, protective Dean, violence, blood, tension, comforting, making out, confessions, feelings, arguments

How to kill your wife Masterlist

“You should sleep a bit. Both.” John says unusual softly.

“Right. Y/N, you look more than exhausted. Let me bring you to bed.” Dean says taking your hand to lead you upstairs.

“I’ll let Gadreel and Garth check the surroundings. Cas and Benny will guard the house and we are on high alert. Calm down a bit. I’ve got this.” John rumbles and Dean gives him a nod.

----

“What will happen now?” You whisper while Dean strips his clothes off.

“Now we will rest a bit. It’s 2 am, Baby. Let’s sleep a bit. I’m here. You are safe. No one will hurt you while I’m with you. Don’t worry the house is on the highest security level. There’s not a chance anyone can get in here.”

“I know. I still can’t believe Rowena knew about all this. She knew what he did and lied to me. My own grandmother didn’t do anything against all of this.”

“Hey. Look at me.” Dean rasps and you meet his gaze. Caressing your jaw with his thumb he looks at your trembling lips.

When his lips press gently against yours you open your mouth for Dean. Sliding his tongue in he moves his arms around your smaller frame to press you close to his body.

“Dean?”

“Sorry. I just …fuck it. I like you. Always have. It killed me to think you are behind this too. I want you since you are sixteen. I knew you were too young. I was twenty-six. It was not legal, but I wanted you…so bad.” Dean whispers in your ear and you start to tremble in his arms.

“You…oh…”

“I know you got no reason to believe me, but I want you. Let me show you I can be a good husband. Please don’t ever run away again. I was so worried.” Gently touching your cheek Dean smiles when you close your eyes to lean into his touch.

“We should rest a bit.” You say looking up at Dean with glassy eyes.

“Yeah. I know. I’ll have a shower first.”

“Hmm…I’m waiting here then.”

“I’ll hurry up.”

----

Drying his hair Dean smiles when you sit on the bed waiting for him. Wearing only one of his old shirts you stare at his body. Towel loosely hanging around his waist he smirks when you lick your lips.

A blush is creeping into your cheeks and you cast your look down. Smiling at your innocent behavior Dean grabs a pair of boxers.

Closing your eyes, you let Dean cover his modesty. When he touches your arm softly you squeal in surprise and he chuckles.

“That’s not funny,” you mutter giving him a pout.

“Pouting? Hmm…I like it. You look cute.”

“I’m not cute.”

“We really should rest.”

Nodding you crawl up the bed to lie on your side. Used to sleep far away from Dean your heart beats faster when you feel him spooning you to moves his arms around your body.

Holding you against his warm chest Dean kisses your hair softly. Feeling you relaxing in his arms he smiles against your hair.

“Do you want to stay married with me when this is all over?” You whisper.

“Yeah. Do you want to? I would understand if you want to get rid of me.”

“I want to.” You admit.

“Falling for my charming personality?”

“No. I liked you before, but you always ignored me or acted like a douche.” You mutter.

“I can change that. We can try to be a family, a pair…lovers.”

“You really want to be with me? I’m still damaged goods.” You sob and Dean swallows hard.

“Do you want me to touch you? Make you forget the past?”

“Can we start slow? I never did anything, but I want you to help me forget he touched me. I want to get rid of that memory. Please.”

“Shh…I will help you. Soon he will pay for everything he did. Eldon and Jacob are already dead. They just don’t know it yet. Their family will die too. No one will survive. This will get bloody.”

“I know. Only as my father was power hungry and greedy so many people will die.” You sniff.

“Not only as your father was behind all this. The Styne’s were always creepy bastards. Never liked them but so far the brothers were reliable. At least I thought so. I was wrong. I’m sorry for bringing them into our home.”

“But that way we know now that my father was the culprit. We know what he’s up to and this might save some people’s life.”

“I scared you.”

“Not your fault. I was so shocked that those two are the kidnappers and seeing them with you...I thought my heart breaks and then I just ran away like a stupid child. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“That’s my job. I’m your husband. Next time I’ll just spank your ass.”

“I…”

“I was just kidding. Never do this again. Tomorrow we will meet up with Sam and the others to discuss what to do. We will get our life’s back. From now on no one tells us how to live.”

“Getting my life back…sounds good.”

“Really good. Now sleepy, Baby. You need to rest.”

“Okay. But you too. Rescuing your wife is exhausting.” You chuckle.

“Well my wife is one crazy whirlwind, so I got all hands full.”

“I’m not that crazy.”

“Oh, you are, and I love it.” Dean blurs out and your eyes widen. Squeezing his arms, you close your eyes.

When you slowly drifting into sleep Dean watches you.

“I’m not just loving your craziness…I love you, Y/N.” Dean whispers in your ear.

----

“Who do you think you are?” Crowley snarls trying to enter your and Dean’s house but Benny and Castiel refuse to let him pass.

“This is Dean Winchester’s house. You are not welcome here. Leave now or I can’t guarantee for your safety.” Benny warns while Castiel calls Dean to inform him about the situation.

“I want to see my daughter! She’s a prisoner in this house. You can’t keep her hostage.” Crowley yells while Eldon stands right next to him grinning at you looking out of the bedroom window.

“I said leave or do you want to handle the consequences?” Benny asks making two steps toward the much smaller man.

“Do you believe I’m scared of you Southern scum and your blue-eyed lover over there?” Eldon chuckles.

“No. But maybe you will get scared knowing that Gadreel, Garth along with ten others of our men are here to provide back-up.” Castiel says giving Eldon a cold smile.

“You are bluffing like your boss. He came alone to my house to get his little bed warmer back. He had her long enough. I want my daughter back. The marriage is over!” Crowley yells.

“What happened to the plan?” Jacob whispers.

“We can still kill them all. No need for Y/N to stay here any longer.”

“She won’t leave my side!” Dean yells walking out of the house with you by his side.

The moment Eldon and Jacob see you hiding behind Dean they start laughing like hyenas again. Taking a deep breath, you try to calm your nerves down.

“Y/N will come with me. The marriage is over. As far as I know, she’s still innocent. You didn’t conceive the marriage so she’s fair game.” Eldon snickers and Dean needs all his strength to not break his face.

“That’s not true. Dean touched me more than once. He was man enough to not restrain and force me like you. Pitiful little man hurting and violating women as your mommy didn’t love you enough. Dean is a real man. You got no clue how he makes my body sing every night. He’s my husband. I’m his wife now leave my ground or Benny and Cas will kill you. Or do you want to get killed by me?” You yell and your father's eyes widen.

Standing beside you Dean starts chuckling at your words. Even Benny can’t hide a smile on his face. It’s the first time you stand your ground.

“That’s my girl.” Dean whispers and you give him a wink.

“What are you doing? He’s the enemy!” Crowley stammers and you shake your head.

“What am I doing? I’m getting my life back. I won’t come with you or let those monsters touch me. I’m a grown woman. I’m able to stand my ground and most important…I am a Winchester!” You yell smashing your fist into Eldon’s face.

Stumbling backward Eldon stares at you in disbelieve. Seeing the angry look on Eldon’s face Dean shoves you behind his back. Trying to hit your kidnapper again you scream and fight but Dean is already throwing you over his shoulder to carry you into the house.

“Let me go! I will kill that bastard for Sam and Jess. I’ll scratch his eyes out. He will suffer like Jess; Sam and I did!” You mutter and Dean shakes his head.

Carefully placing you onto your own feet his smiles at you. Caressing your cheek, he looks down at you.

“You’re right but this is not the time or the place for that. I know you want to avenge Jess. We will do this together. I swear they will pay for everything but right now we need to be careful. Two streets ahead are five or six of Crowley’s men waiting to attack us.”

“Oh…”

“We’ve got this. I’m proud of you. You really hit that bastard. God, I love you.” Dean blurs out and your eyes widen. “You really are a Winchester, Baby.”

“I am a Winchester…” You say smiling.

How to kill your wife Tags

@bitchwhytho, @lizblinder, @xi-i-i-whatsyouremergency, @anathewierdo, @crystallstaircase, @staleve, @the-walking-daryl, @padfoot-siriusly-approves, @just-hurry-up, @tftumblin, @katjackblacksack

Forever Tags

@donnaintx, @screechingartisancashbailiff, @fallen-wolf22 , @curly-haired-disaster-deactivat, @sister-winchesters99, @mogaruke, @the-is13, @helloitsmeamie203, @strayrosesbloom, @thewinchesterco, @hobby27, @kittycatlover18, @gh0stgurl, @marvelfansworld , @sandlee44, @hawaiianohana15, @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt, @katpatrova17, @notyourtypicalrose , @heyitscam99, @onethingthatkeepsmealive, @natura1phenomenon, @flamencodiva, @echoesofpassion, @cocklesbelli, @anushay1998, @voltage-my2dlove, @kmvld, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @thenamelesschibi, @lauravic, @fandomsrourlives, @wittysunflower, @drakelover78, @lemondropirwin, @chonisberonica, @lonewolf471, @wronglanemendes

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags

@spnfamily-thewinchesters, @supernatural-bellawinchester, @butifulsoul125, @lyinginthegingerlocks, @deans-baby-momma, @hawaiianohana15, @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester, @20gayneen, @janicho88, @thefaithfulwriter, @dreaminemz, @negans-lucille-tblr, @sadwaywardkid, @akshi8278, @hhiggs, @midnightsilver16830, @mrspeacem1nusone, @ria132love, @caligraphee

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themadlostgirl · 5 years

Text

Not Dead Yet (Part 80)

*These next few chapters are really the final stretch for this fic guys. It is going to get ugly and even I am not prepared for what is going to happen. So have fun thots!*

Pairing: Reader x Peter Pan

Warnings: language

Past me is an asshole!

She ignored her job of getting Henry away from this camp and back to his family and instead spent the night dancing and stealing kisses with the person who kidnapped him. Now as I lay half awake in this tent wrapped in said kidnapper’s arms I have to deal with the other problem she left me last night.

Peter Pan…god help me this Peter Pan.

How can I like someone who has caused such misery for the people I care about? How can I want to stay with someone I basically just met! These memories that keep coming back aren’t helping either. They’re familiar but they don’t feel like they’re mine. It’s like watching snippets of home movies I didn’t know happened. They were there and they showed me what life was like but it didn’t do anything. They made me happy but it didn’t transform me from Marigold to Y/N either. How can the others stand having two lives stuck in their head like this? It’s horrible!

I tried to sit up but Peter tightened his hold on me and kept me in place next to him. This is fine. It’s still really early and I am a little tired yet. If I can just go back to bed…

No! Stop leaving this for future you to deal with! It’s just gonna be you in a couple hours you dumbass!

Yeah but present me is still sleepy and Peter is warm and smells nice.

Get. Up. Now.

Fine!

I removed Peter’s arm from me and slipped out of the tent. If I’m quick about this then I can get back to bed before Peter notices I’m gone. The camp was still asleep. I found where Henry was and poked him awake. We snuck off to call Emma and the others.

After a few tense seconds the mirror showed us Regina’s face. “Henry, Marigold, thank god you two are safe.”

“What made you think we wouldn’t be?” I asked.

“You never checked in last night. I thought you said you were gonna be able to get out last night.”

“Right…” I had completely forgotten about the escape plan last night. Sitting with Peter’s head in my lap as I played with his hair kinda took priority. Not that they needed to know that. “Sorry, things didn’t go as planned.”

“As it is that seems for the best. We don’t have an exit strategy so even if you can get out of camp and back to us we’ll all just be sitting ducks for Pan. Hang tight, we’ll let you know when we can get out of here.”

“Sure. No problem.” I breathed out a sigh of relief. It was too early to start dodging questions I’d rather not hear right now.

Regina woke the others up to say hi to Henry real quick before we ended the call. We rushed back and I crawled back into Peter’s tent. He was still fast asleep and when I laid back down next to him and put his arm back around me it was like I had never left.

We have to stay on Neverland longer. No need to rush things. I can stay here pretending to be Y/N as long as needed. I nuzzled my face into his neck inhaling the sweet scent of wind and jungle that clung to him constantly. It was getting easier to do pretend.

How much longer before it wasn’t pretend though?

~~~

After last night with Rumplestiltskin and Baelfire trying to steal Henry, Peter was in a tough position. Learning that Rumple was the one that had confined and tortured Y/N should have made the decision to kill all the adults and leave their corpses to the mermaids an easy one. The fact that they were using her against him was bad enough but this had pushed him to the edge of mass homicide. If it wasn’t for the fact that Y/N is not entirely herself right now and actually cares for some of these bastards is the only thing keeping them alive right now. One more horrible revelation like last night though and their entrails would be hanging from the trees like garland.

As it is he had a hard time facing her right now knowing that she was abetting the man that had almost tortured her to death. So she was with Wendy while Peter went about trying to figure out what to do about all this. One thing was for sure, he needed an ally. Someone he knew that feared him enough to do as he says but also be trusted by the adults to a degree.

Fate seemed to part the heavens and reveal a perfect opportunity with Hook taking the prince up the cliff to Dead Man’s Peak. They were up a steep stone face and the pirate was about to throw the rope down to help the quickly dying prince before Peter stopped him.

“Pan,” Hook dropped the rope at his feet, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m here to offer you a deal.” He didn’t have time to beat around the bush. Every second was a moment off his life and he needed this to work, “Come back and work for me, like the old days.”

“I don’t miss the old days.”

“What if I were to offer you something very hard to come by? Say passage off the island?”

“Still not interested.”

“So stubborn.” Peter prowled around him in a slow circle, “What if I said you can take Emma with you.”

“Emma would never leave her son.”

“She did once before, and you can be there to pick up the pieces. We've known each other a very long time, Killian. We've done business before. And I think this is the perfect time to restart that relationship.”

“What if I'm not interested?”

“You not listening to me has never worked out for you, Killian. This whole crusade to save the boy will lead to nothing but every single one of you dying. You really want to keep testing me?” He could feel his patience starting to wear thin.

“I think you don’t have as much control over this game as you think you do and you’re starting to spiral, Pan.” Hook smirked and Peter had to resist the urge to punch him and prove him right.

“I suppose you’re referring to your inside informant.” Peter said and a shadow passed over Hook’s face. “What was that about me not having control?”

“Y/N…” Hook sighed.

“Yes. I know that you have her helping you. I don’t know what you think you’re playing at but know this,” He pressed the edge of his dagger to the pirate’s throat, “No Evil Queen, Dark One, or Saviour will be able to stop me from gutting you all if any harm comes to my Lost Girl.”

“Strangely enough, as Marigold none of us have any qualms with her.” Hook shrugged. “She’s in more danger sitting in your camp than she would be with us.”

“Insult me again. I dare you.” Peter wanted to scream but kept it in. He would not give this walking liver failure the satisfaction.

“And what of the lass? She doesn’t remember you. You really think she’ll choose to stay in this damned jungle with you when she has an entire other life back in Storybrooke? A place with people who have not tried to kill her before.” Hook pulled out his flask and took a sip.

“I see you are excluding yourself and the Dark One from that list.”

“Again, as Marigold, we have no issue with her.” He offered the flask to Peter. He took it after a moment and had a quick swig of rum.

“So that’s all it is. You took away everything she is and are calling what’s left, what you people filled her head with, as the truth? As what she should want to be without bothering to ask her if that’s who she wants to be.”

“How is it any different from what you’re doing?” Hook barked with a short laugh, “You have a girl who doesn’t remember you and are trying desperately to bring back a version of herself that she isn’t. Did you bother to ask if that’s what she wants?”

Dark clouds started to roll in above them as Peter’s self control started to tear itself apart. He took a deep breath and met the captain’s gaze once more with murder in his eyes. “I’m trying to restore what you people stole from her. What she chooses to do with it after the fact is her decision.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

“You know,” Hook picked up the rope again, “I have to pull the prince up at some point before he gets suspicious.”

“Then go right ahead. Dragging him up the cliff should give you more than enough time to mull over my offer.” he shoved the flask back at him. “You have a choice, Killian. Choose wisely.”

In the next moment Peter was gone and back at the outskirts of the camp. Hook’s words about trying to bring back a version of Y/N for his own means itched and festered under his skin. Of course Peter wanted the Y/N he knew back. It’s all he’s wanted.

But what if the drunkard had a point? What if by some miracle Peter was able to bring back Y/N’s memories? Would she still want to stay here? Would the two realities in her head make her question where her loyalties should lie? If she remembered everything what life would she choose?

He wanted to believe that she would choose Neverland. She had more history here. Knew the boys better. This is her home. It has been since he saved her from dying in the cold wood of the Enchanted Forest that night many years ago. From then she became much more than a Lost Girl or a friend.

Peter meant what he said about the choice being hers for whatever life she wanted if he could restore her memory. That didn’t mean he would let her go without a fight though.

~~~

This is bad! This is very bad! I checked my pockets and retraced my steps a dozen times but the looking glass I had used to communicate with Emma and the others was gone. I had asked Henry if he had it but it wasn’t with him either.

What am I supposed to do if I can’t talk with them? If I don’t at least check in then they’re gonna think something is wrong and storm the camp and get themselves killed! I was on my hands and knees looking under leaves and and rocks hoping to god that I could find it.

“Lose something pet?” I heard Peter behind me and sat up straight.

“Just a little trinket from Storybrooke. Nothing to worry about.”

“Good. Cause I want to show you something.”

“Alright,” He helped pull me up and a feeling of wind engulfed us before we stood on another part of the island. I could tell because a huge tree, taller than any building I had ever seen was next to us. It looked like you could fit an entire house in its trunk!

Peter moved closer to the tree and kicked at one of the huge knots at the base. A hole opened up and he gestured for me to hop in it. This didn’t seem a good idea but I was too curious now. I slid down what felt like a dirt slide and was deposited at the bottom. It was so dark I couldn’t even see my hand two inches in front of my face.

I should have moved because a moment later Peter came barreling down the tunnel slide behind me and knocked me over. “Sorry,” I heard his voice and reached for it. “I’m right here, pet. No need to worry.”

He caught my hand and pulled me to him. “We could probably do with some light.”

Instantly various torches and candles stubs sparked to life. I could see now that we were in a much larger underground cavern. Tables, chairs, a few odd knicknacks, a pile of books and a large bed at the back were squeezed in.

More memories came back as I looked around. They were less innocent as the others I had remembered till now.

All of that was shoved from my mind though as I got a closer look at the various drawings scattered across the tables and pinned to the walls. They were beautiful. So detailed and lifelike that it seemed that the landscapes were moving on the parchment. Many drawings of plants and various animals, a couple of the camp and Lost Boys dancing around the fire, scenes of the beach and views from the cliffs. But among all those drawings I kept seeing portraits of myself. Every other picture was a different version of me. It was definitely my face but the figure behind them was someone else. It was the life behind the eyes, the crease in her smile that brought into stark reality that this girl on the parchment and I were so far from one another yet so similar.

“I hope it doesn’t unsettle you.” Peter came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my middle, “I didn’t want to forget what you looked like.”

“You drew these?” I whispered in awe.

“Yes. You gave me a pencil case and a ream of parchment because you knew how much I enjoyed drawing.”

“Right,” I cursed myself for saying anything, “Just a little in wonder I suppose.”

He rested his chin on top of my head, “Do you remember what else we did that day?”

“I um…” I tried to but it was just out of reach just like everything else, “It was so long ago.”

He sighed and held me tighter. “That was the first time we made love.” he whispered in a tight voice, “You’re saying you don’t remember that?”

“Well I…” Shit!

He was shaking slightly. The grip he was keeping on me started to worry me. He knows I’m a fraud. He has to. This is it. This is the end. I tried to trick him and now with one slip up I was going to be left for dead in this cavern.

He turned me around and I braced myself for the blind fury. What I saw though was nothing close. Peter wasn’t angry, he didn’t even look annoyed. He looked...heartbroken. His eyes were glassy as if he was trying not to cry as he held my face in his hands.

“Please, Y/N, please remember. You have to remember.”

“You know--”

“Yes I know.” he cut me off. He sprung away from me like I burned and ran his hands through his hair, “I’ve known for a while now. That’s not the point.”

“I don’t understand.” I tried to keep my breathing even, “If you know that I’m not Y/N then why are you doing all this? I would have thought you’d just kill me or something.”

He looked at me like I had slapped him. “Gods,” he clenched and unclenched his fists to the point I swear the air in the room was constricting with them, “You think I could ever hurt you? That after years of you being my best friend, my second in command, my most trusted confidant and precious lover that I could hurt you out of malicious intent? That I would ever want to see you dead?”

“I--”

“I have spent the last twenty eight years wondering and worrying whether you were alive. Years hoping that you would come home someday. Praying to the gods, the stars, anyone that could give me a sign that you were safe somewhere in the realms. And you think that based on your limited knowledge of me from this past week that I would forsake everything you mean to me, whether you remember or not, because you were betraying me?”

I didn’t know how to react. How could I? This went so much deeper than I originally thought. What Hook told me was barely scratching the surface of the history between Peter and myself.

“Peter, I...I’m sorry. I am so sorry.”

He calmed down almost instantly and came back towards me. He hugged me and left a kiss on my forehead. “You shouldn’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. I promise I’ll get your memories back.”

“Your word is your bond.” The sentiment echoed in my head. “I know.”

“You’re still in there.” he pressed his forehead to mine. “I want to trust you but I also can’t have you helping the adults.”

“Peter?”

“I’ll be back to check on you in a bit. Read a book or something till then.”

“Wait, what do you--”

I blinked and Peter was gone. If Peter knows that I’m helping the others to rescue Henry then what was he going to do? He’s going to hurt them! Hurt Henry!

I ran back toward the hole but it was blocked now. I looked around for another exit but there were none. I grabbed a spear propped against the wall and stabbed it against the ceiling. It shimmered for a moment. A forcefield! I’m trapped…

I threw the spear away and collapsed against the bed. What am I gonna do?

Next to the bed I spotted the pile of books. If I am trapped down here then I might as well do something to pass the time until someone saves me or Peter comes back. I picked up the largest. It looked like Henry’s storybook but instead it was titled Neverland.

Once upon a time there were children. Children who would fly away in their dreams to a land unlike any other where they would play and forget their woes. A place where only children could venture. This place was called, Neverland...

~~~

Peter was really not in the mood to deal with Hook after the confrontation with Y/N. But he couldn’t let him think he was off the hook (pun not intended) for saving the prince. “You really should've taken my deal.”

He noticed with some pleasure that the pirate tensed at Peter’s appearance. “It doesn't look like I need your help with Emma after all, mate. Nor anything else for that matter.”

“What, you think that kiss actually meant something?” Peter wanted to laugh.

“I do. I think it means she's finally starting to see me for the man I am.” Hook said and tried to walk past him.

“What?” Peter stepped in front of his path. “A one-handed pirate with a drinking problem? I'm no grown-up, but I'm pretty sure that's less than appealing.”

“A man of honor.”

“A man of honor,” Peter scoffed in disgust. “Well then, man of honor, I want to know what something like you would do with a big fat secret.”

“Depends on what the secret is.”

“Baelfire. Neal. The guy Emma loves. Henry’s father. He’s alive. Even better, he’s on Neverland.”

“No...no he died.” The fear in his eyes gave Peter all the ammo he needed.

“Afraid not. Now it’s up to you whether you tell the others about this and kill that budding romance of yours or not.” He grinned. Hook met his gaze with both fury and hesitation.

“You’re a wicked little boy.” Hook muttered.

“Nothing wicked about this. It’s equivalent exchange, Hook.” Peter grabbed a handful of his vest and yanked him down, “You messed with my heart so I mess with yours. You could have left here with the woman you care for and had a nice long life. Now you’ll die like all the rest and I will be sure to make yours a painful and slow one. That’s a promise.”

He let him go and stalked away. “Oh and I wouldn’t try contacting Y/N or Henry. They won’t answer.” He held up the little looking glass they had been using and snapped it in two. “Have a nice night, captain.”

~~~

I closed the book as I let the content of the storybook’s pages settle in my mind. I had skipped some parts here and there but what I had read was infallible proof of what I had feared. Y/N, me, whoever, was in love with Peter.

Years of fighting, compromising, friendship, growing, laughing, crying, and trust created something dangerous. Dangerous and powerful and dare I say it...beautiful.

Reading through their story--our story--I felt a longing. A longing to step into the book and relive those moments. Not for the first time I realized. Ever since I came here I wanted to forget about my old life and my mission to rescue Henry and just be a Lost Girl again.

I wanted the dances around the fire. I wanted to run through the jungle with my brothers. I wanted to laugh and play with Wendy and the fairies. I wanted to fall asleep next to Peter for all my nights. I wanted to feel the love and belonging that I used to know everyday. I wanted to be Y/N again.

I can’t let Henry die though. I read that too. If Peter succeeds in this endeavor then Henry was going to die.

I felt a chill go up my spine and inhaled the scent of jungle and wind suddenly upon me. No time to think now. A decision needs to be made.

(First) (Previous) (Next)

#slowburn #ouat peter pan #peter pan ouat #ouat #neverland #peter pan imagine #peter pan x reader

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icarusofstars-blog · 6 years

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( A/N: I just want my favorite Marvel ship to date to be happy together (or be trying to be happy together). Unfortunately this will only happen in my brain. Alas, I can dream....and write sometimes, I guess. First time writing fic in a long time, hope everyone is in character! Feel free to request and give me ideas. )

praying on bruised knees / ao3 link

Claire is a shitty Catholic. She hasn’t been to Church in a long time. It’s not ranked very high on her list of priorities, which she thinks God will understand considering her newfound path in life. She lives in a constant state of chaos to some degree. Which is totally her choice, so she isn’t complaining, it just is what it is. Going to confession hasn’t seemed all that important when some days she’s fighting for her life.

Matt, all things considered, is the poster boy of Catholicism. Including the rampant guilt, but she’ll leave that alone. The point is he’s a constant example of faith that occasionally gets her thinking. Like on sleepy Sunday morning when she feels the bed get colder because he crawls out of it, leaving sweet kisses on her face and the promise that he’ll be back later. Sometimes she watches him get ready on those mornings. Usually she just mumbles something unintelligent and goes back to sleep, only waking when Matt comes back, the sun already high in the sky and with a coffee for her in hand.

Claire is the type to not need to go out of her way to pray in grand buildings to feel satisfied with her connection to God. Her connection to God comes in the form of recovering patient’s, grateful families, and sometimes, peaceful departures. Her work has the grace of God involved every step of the way. Whether she actively thinks about it or not. He’s always there, guiding her steady hands and giving her the strength she needs so that she may help others. There’s no need to search for him. To seek him out.

So she doesn’t go to Midnight Mass and she certainly doesn’t drag herself from bed after working double shifts so she can cram herself into a Subway car and want to die when on the seventh day God rested, and thus, so will she. That being said, Matt does have her thinking. She finds herself hesitating outside of Church gates when she passes them on walks. She catches herself making silent, tiny prayers more and more often.

Last night Matt stumbled home half dead which should be no surprise to her but he’d been doing so well since they moved in together. He was being so careful for her. Almost as if he was trying to make sure she’d stay, if just for a little while. The fact that he’d come home bruised and bloody doesn’t make her any less sure of the progression of their relationship. Despite the brief moment of peace she knew what a committed relationship with Matt would entail. She wanted this and she’ll deal with all of it. She’s not running away this time and he…..Matt does his best not to hide, to try and not scare her off.

It doesn’t mean that he hadn’t scared her shitless last night, though. He’s scared her before and he’ll scare her again, and again, and again. That’s dating a hero. That’s dating a man who wants to save the world. That’s dating a man who is learning to care about himself, if not for his own sake, than for the people who love him. He’s doing better but he’ll always be Matt Murdock. It’s why Claire loves him, and she’d known it for awhile. It had been a quiet and creeping realization that she has mostly kept to herself. Last night it had been the only thought in her head, deafening and heart-stopping ( i love you, i love you, i love you, i love y— ).

He’s in no real condition to go out again so soon but there’s a girl out there who needs him. A kidnapping and the kidnappers won’t get lucky this time, he swears to her. But he needs to do this and there is someone out there in the world who really needs a hero right now. Who needs the devil of Hell’s Kitchen to live up to his namesake. So he’d gone to work this morning to save the world the legal way ( but only after Claire told Foggy to watch out for their idiot, which he’d strongly objected to ) and tonight he’ll go out to try and save a damsel in distress. He needs to do that. Claire knows that.

But she’s scared. Plain and simple, she’s scared. There’s no point in lying to herself. Which is how she found herself knelt in front of Matt’s closet, with the case that hides the Daredevil suit pulled out in front of her. She feels nervous. She feels silly and she feels way more than a little stupid. She also feels like she needs to do this and so she pops open the case and brings the folded suit to sit neatly in her lap. The helmet she holds for a second, just staring, before that too, is placed on her lap, her hands clasp together over it, the horns dig into the sides of her wrist.

“I haven’t done this in a long time so bare with me.” she licks her lips, trying to think of what she wants to say, exactly, “but I need you, right now, and so does he.” She shifts to get more comfortable, still trying to shake off the feeling of being ridiculous. Of feeling childish to need to get how she feels out in any way she can. She feels like a little girl who rode her bicycle into the street too fast and too soon and is now desperately looking back towards her Father for guidance because she doesn’t know to break yet —

Fitting, she thinks dryly, we’re all God’s children.

“I need you to watch out for him. I know you’re probably already doing that since he’s still alive and he definitely shouldn’t be, at this point but I….. I know there are a lot of people in the world who need you and your protection but I...don’t ask for much. I try to get by on my own. I know I can get by on my own. Not for this though. I — I love him and I want him safe. As safe as you can get him.”

Her hands unclasp, moving just to hold Matt’s helmet close to her, ignoring how the horns dig into the soft flesh of her stomach, uncomfortably. “I’m not asking for any miracles here. I know what kind of world we live in. It’s dangerous, and shitty, and Matt’s stubborn but I….. he does so much for everyone else. No matter what it costs him and I don’t want it to cost him his life. I don’t know if I could ….take that. Not right now. I just got him and I’d like to keep him, bullshit and all.”

There are tears stinging her eyes and crying isn’t a weakness but she wipes at them viciously before they can fall. “If you do your part I’ll do mine?” is her feeble offering, spoken around an even more fragile quirk of her lips, “well, amen.”

The room is deadly silent for a moment. Claire is still clutching onto Matt’s armor as if trying to sink all the love and protectiveness she feels into the suit itself and not just place them at the feet of God, hoping that he’s listening. She wants so badly for a sign, in that moment. She wants a sign that she’s been heard more than almost anything else she’s ever wanted before, which is an extensive list. For most of those things she hasn’t been on her knees, near tears but —

“Claire?” Matt’s quiet voice shocks her out of her quiet reverie, bended head snapping up at the same time her eyes snap open. The helmet goes tumbling out her arms in shock.

“Matt I-” She’s already trying to put the suit back into the case but her hands are shaking a little because she is so ( startled? embarrassed, god when did he come in? What did he hear? She feels so stupid all over again ) —

When she looks up at his face the expression stops her. Stops her thoughts. Stops her shaking hands. Stops her fucking heart. It’s so vulnerable and open that it makes her feel numb. The way your leg feels after sitting on it too long. It’s a blissful feeling compared to the white-hot panic he’d just filled her with a second ago.

It’s silent again for a moment. Then he’s moving forward. He’s fast, kneeling in front of her, with her, before she can fully blink. His hands hover near her face for a split second like he can’t believe she’s real. Then he touches her, softly. She thinks he might kiss her until his forehead is pressed against hers tightly and his eyes close and this is — better she thinks, better than kissing, and her hands come to hold his, where they’re holding onto her.

“I didn’t think you were gonna be home for awhile.” She says, lamely, after she lets him just hold her. His eyes, milky brown, flutter open slowly at the sound of her voice and one of his hands moves from her cheek to clutch in her hair, shifting her closer, if possible.

“I was gonna take you out for lunch.” That makes her laugh, and it’s a little wet but she just shakes her head and shifts away, out of his grip. He starts to protest until she’s hugging him, pressing her face into the crook of his neck to breathe him in and steady herself. She’s hiding, too, something unusual for Claire Temple, the fucking night nurse, but even for her this is a lot.

Matt just kisses the top of her head, “ Claire I-”

“I love you.” She interrupts, heart hammering away in her chest. She knows he must've heard her say it the first time. That was different though, a conversation about him and not with him. “I love you and I just...want you safe.”

They slip into quiet again but she doesn’t feel panicked now. She’s back in control of the situation. She meant for him to hear what she said. No playing things off. No pretending she meant less than what she did. Cards on the table. Claire is a lot of things and none of those things is a coward. She grabs up one of his hands and brings it to her lips, kisses the busted knuckles with all the gentleness and care of a summer breeze. “I love you.”

He tucks his fingers under her chin, thumb brushing against her lips before he kisses her, just as kindly, and with a pinch of desperation, of sadness, because he can’t promise her his safety. Not when every day he walks out the door offering himself to the world like a sacrificial lamb. And they both know Claire doesn’t want empty promises or empty words. So he kisses her, kneeling on the floor in whatever amount of God’s presence that remains and tries to ease her pains and burdens like he tries to fix everything else wrong with the world.

#clairedevil #matt x claire #marvel drabble #matt murdock #claire temple #im satisfied with this #drabble

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blinder-secrets · 6 years

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Heat Of The Moment - Tommy

requested: Reader gets seriously hurt saving Charlie from being taken/hurt, and how Tommy would react.

a/n: tw for violence & blood

In the heat of the moment. That’s how you’d rationalise it. That’s what you’d tell your mother when you tried to explain it, what you’d offer forward when people praised you for it. It wasn’t bravery, or selfishness. It wasn’t even panic. It was instincts and nothing; your mind had been so blank, you had acted before pausing to consider anything else; you’d done it all in the heat of the moment.

It was a Thursday when it happened. You remembered that because Thursday’s were the only day you worked into the night, prepping the horses for the next day. Tommy let you take Friday’s off, to go home to your family, meaning all jobs had to be done before you left. He didn’t give you that before Grace had passed, things were different after he’d lost her.

You’d been Tommy’s live-in stable-girl for years; you’d moved to the manor house with him, following after his pretty horses and guaranteed payslip. It was the perfect job. You loved the animals, the money, the security.

That night was the first time you’d ever regretted working for him.

Weary, covered in muck and sweat, you left the final stall and fastened it shut behind you. All the horses were clean, bedded. Hay nets re-stuffed. Walkway washed down. You were free of duties and ready to go before twelve. All that was left, was to return your bucket and tools to the shed across the yard.

It was there, in the dark of night, that you’d seen him. A man you didn’t recognise, approaching the house with his head ducked down between his shoulders. You’d stood and watched as he disappeared into the gardens around the back, before continuing on your way. After all, it wasn’t unusual for Tommy to have late night guests.

You’d changed and locked up, yawning as you went on your way. Sleepy-eyed, you walked back across the yard, where it’d dawned on you that Tommy wasn’t home. John had invited the lot of them to his, for booze and cards. A lad’s night. The only people in the house were staff, like yourself, and Charlie.

Your throat tightened. Though you never really knew the extent of Tommy’s troubles, you knew that a stranger, alone, with his only son and heir could never be anything but danger.

Bile stung your throat as you picked up the pace, eyes set on where you’d seen the man last. You didn’t have any sort of plan. Tommy had armed men somewhere, but you didn’t know where, nor could you reach them in time. You were going in blind. Helpless.

As you got to the back of the house, you saw a window had been prised open, and followed it into the room behind. Tracing the intruder’s steps.

The house was still. Silent. As if it were holding its breath, waiting for the danger to pass. You crossed the library, and followed the trail of wet footprints into the hall.

The stranger was there; frozen at the bottom of the stairs with a sleeping Charlie in his arms.

In the split second that you’d locked eyes, your mind had dive-bombed into blankness. Every thought and rationality had dissipated into absolutely nothing and you’d found yourself running toward the man, shouting for hims to give the boy back.

He’d pulled his gun fast enough that you’d missed it completely. The blast woke Charlie, sending him into a panic of tears and screams as your shoulder exploded with pain. It knocked you back a few feet, pausing you long enough for the man to turn on heel and run, taking the front door out into the midnight.

Gasping, more from shock than anything else, you’d staggered after him. Caught in the heat of the moment. Blind with instinct.

As you passed the rack by the door, you pulled a cane free. It was no gun, but it was better than nothing, and you gripped it with both hands as you ran. Your speed surprised even you. He’d made it halfway down the drive, onto the green verge in the middle, when you’d caught him.

Swinging the stick, you’d laid a firm blow into the back of his legs. He tumbled forward, landing awkwardly on top of the child before rolling onto his back, swearing at you. Charlie’s wailing had grown loud enough to wake the others, you hoped, and you found yourself talking to him. Ignoring the kidnapper as if he wasn’t there.

‘It’s okay, Charlie,’ you panted, your voice miles from comforting. ‘I’ve got you.’

You swung again, hitting the stranger’s shins while he attempted to scramble to his feet. Your advantage was surprise, and it was running out fast.

‘Let him go!’ you screamed, lifting your make-shift weapon again. As it came down, the man wrapped his free hand around it, using it to pull himself up.

You staggered back with the weight of him, watching in horror as he dropped Charlie to the ground and turned his full attention upon you. He wrenched the stick from your grip and used it against you. The wood cracked as it slammed into your injured shoulder, sending another fire-wave of pain through your body. It shattered into pieces when he struck you again. You couldn’t even take the hit standing, you stumbled back from the grass, crumbling onto the gravel.

‘Charlie, to the house!’ you barked. You attempted to look for him, to see if he was okay, but the man’s foot came down hard on your stomach and you found yourself crying into the sky above.

He kicked you enough times for you to lose count. Your body curled itself in desperation; attempted to minimise the damage of each blow. Hot blood coughed up from inside and dribbled down your cheek, leaking from your mouth. Tears poured from your eyes. You were past consciousness, lost in something like a nightmare, trapped in a fog of pain and fear.

You hadn’t heard Charlie moving, you didn’t know if he’d gotten away, if help had been called.

For those minutes, all that existed was the ringing in your ears and the searing ache of your body. You were trapped, too far gone to beg for mercy, too afraid to fight back.

When a gunshot burst through the chaos, you were half convinced it had been fired into you. It was close enough, loud enough. You were so riddled with pain, that you were sure it could’ve entered your body without causing more. But there was no chance for you to find out; you’d already passed into blankness.

Everything after that was missing.

To say you awoke, would be a lie.

You’d crawled back to life, peeling yourself from restless sleep to meet painful consciousness. Every inch of you complained. Your body ached and stung to the point where you could feel nothing else; if some part of you was unharmed, it had buried itself long ago, in the soreness of some other injury.

Thankfully, your eyes were working. You could feel the skin was taught beneath them, across your cheekbones, but your lids were un-swollen. At least you could look around you, see something other than darkness. You were in a hospital room, in a bed, with a man stationed by your feet.

He was a Blinder, you could tell from the cap, and you’d attempted to call out to him, but failed. The breath that scraped your throat was enough of a noise to gain his attention.

He spun to face you. ‘Miss (y/l/n). You’re awake,’ he said.

You were too afraid to nod. ‘Water,’ you croaked. He obliged, and brought you a cup, holding it to your lips for you to drink. It was slow and undignified; more went down your front than into your mouth, but it was needed. Water had never tasted so close to the nectar of Gods.

‘I’ve got to get Tommy, Miss.’ He placed the cup back on the cabinet beside you. ‘He told me to get him when you were awake.’ He hesitated, as if waiting for you to demand he stayed, but of course you didn’t. You were barely thinking straight.

The Blinder left and you felt yourself drift off, too exhausted to fight it.

Tommy was sat next to you when you opened your eyes again. He’d pulled a chair up to your bed, and sat, folded at the waist with his arms on his knees. You couldn’t see his face, but you imagined it carried the purple rings of a sleepless night.

You swallowed, attempting to wet your mouth before you spoke. ‘Is Charlie-’

He’d interrupted you as soon as you’d made a sound, his head snapping up to meet your eyes. ‘(Y/n),’ he breathed.

‘Is Charlie okay?’ you said, wincing. Your chest was tight, and pinched with each movement, but you had to know.

‘He’s fine, (y/n), he’s fine.’ You could see he was relieved, but he didn’t sound it. His stressed face was glued to yours, as if you would slip away again the second he blinked. ‘You saved him,’ he said.

It was all worth it, then. Every blow. You felt some ache lift with the knowledge that Charlie was alright. ‘Good.’ You nodded slightly, before asking, ‘How bad is it?’

Tommy sighed, listing off your injuries, ‘Broken ribs, an arm, internal bleeding and a blow to the head. Bullet wound in the shoulder, stitches in your-’

‘Only one?’

He paused. ‘One what?’

‘Bullet,’ you winced between breaths, ‘one bullet wound?’

‘Just the one, (y/n).’ He’d said your name again; he seemed unable to keep himself from saying it. You’d find out later it was because he had been so afraid of losing you, so sure that he’d never get to say it to you again, that it felt like gold on his tongue.

‘You killed him?’ It was your next guess. If the bullet had’t been yours, it could only ever be your attacker’s. Tommy nodded once and you let yourself relax slightly. At least he was dead, you didn’t suffer that for him to walk free, painless.

‘The doctor said you’ll be slow to recover.’

‘I believe him,’ you attempted a smile. Your father had always said it was best to laugh, than to cry. ‘I feel like shit.’

You’d hoped he’d smile with you, but instead his head dropped, chin almost to his chest. ‘That should have never happened to you, (y/n).’

‘I couldn’t let,’ your words stopped short. You’d attempted to sit up more, but the pain that shot through your body had ripped the words from your mouth, replacing them with a sharp gasp. ‘Fuck,’ you hissed.

Tommy had bolted up, moving to the door to shout for the nurse.

‘Tommy,’ you took a deep breath, ‘Tommy it’s fine.’ When you were still, it was bearable. And you could just about manage to stay still.

‘I need a fucking nurse in here!’ He was barking orders into the hall, his image intermittently blocked by the swinging double doors to your room. ‘She needs meds and she needs them now.’ A nurse had appeared his side, apologising as he scolded her, ‘I told you to keep her fucking painless.’

She hurried into the room, supplying you with some sort of opiate, which you were glad of, before disappearing again. You said nothing to Tommy as he entered, pacing the space at the end of your bed. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, stressed by your pain, or by the nurses ignorance; you weren’t sure what it was entirely. He was leaving you to watch while he twisted through his mind in silence.

It only took a short while for your body to disappear. You sighed as the pain eased, sinking into the bed, feeling your eyelids grow heavy. ‘Thank you,’ you said, to the drugs more than to Tommy.

He turned in your peripheral, moving to lean on the rail at your feet. ‘They’ll pay for this,’ he said, his tone low and sure; his words a statement of fact. ‘Alright, (y/n). They’ll fucking pay because that’s how it goes. An eye for an eye.’

‘I wasn’t the target, Tommy.’

‘No,’ he shook his head. ‘But you’re the one in the hospital bed. So they’ll get a bullet to the head and an unmarked grave. Every last one of them.’

You said nothing. You didn’t fight him, you were happy to hear it.

He hadn’t apologised for what had happened, and you hadn’t wanted him to. What you’d wanted, what you’d needed, was to hear a threat against whoever had sent the attacker that night. And a threat is what Tommy had given you.

‘I’ll be back in the morning, (y/n), he said. He waited to see you nod before he left, and you’d sunken into a drug-infused rest, knowing that he’d stick to his word.

He’d see you again tomorrow, and the fuckers would pay. An eye for an eye.

#tommy x reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby imagine #mine #tommy #reader #hope you like it!!!!!#ITS A LONG ONE YET AGAIN #i dont know when to STOP

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kpop-goestheweasel · 7 years

Text

One Shot - B.A.P!gang AU [Part 1]

I’m reblogging and reposting this because I have edited it to fit with the new direction I have decided to take this. And I’m really excited to share it with you since I have literally been working on this since I started this blog - this just happens to be the story that started it all even though it sat in my drafts for well over a year before posting it. After some mild changes and extensive plotting, I think it’s about time to start sharing it with you! I really hope you enjoy and feedback is always welcome [:

**This does include violence and strong language.

This was far from the life Jongup had envisioned for his sister. Hell, this wasn’t exactly the kind of life he had wanted for himself. In truth, he was sure none of the group members had really planned to end up like this; it all just kind of happened.

Growing up together, they had always been an odd group of friends, considering the age differences between quite a few of them. Still, somehow it just worked. Everyone had their own personality that placed them in their own unique role in the group and completed their little puzzle of unconditional friendship. They created their own dysfunctional family of sorts.

Yongguk, also known as Bang, had always been the leader, looking over the younger members like a father, protecting everyone one from anything and everything that would ever threaten them. He was the cornerstone of the group; the one everyone looked to for guidance. Then there was Himchan, Bang’s right-hand man and more-or-less the mother of the group. He kept everyone in line while making sure they were always well cared for. He was the one to offer support when needed. Daehyun and Youngjae had always been a dynamic duo. It was rare to see one without the other, though their personalities could hardly be any different. Youngjae was soft-spoken and thoughtful while Daehyun was boisterous and mischievous. In the end, they balanced and complemented one another like ying and yang, offering the group a mixture of spontaneity and intelligence. Jongup was the quiet, shy one that came off as a little naive, but he was loyal to a fault much like a puppy. Junhong, or Zelo as he preferred, was the baby of the group that everyone looked after with a protective eye even though he was by no means weak or incapable. In fact, most of the time, he showed more skill than the others; though, he was humble about it. His modesty came in the form of blindly idolizing Yongguk as if he was his own big brother that could do no wrong. This affection actually played quite a big role in Bang’s actions as he was always careful to set a good example for the maknae. And then there was Y/N, Jongup’s older sister. She had always been the energy of the group and the third piece to the Dae and Jae’s troublemaking squad, like their final triplet. She was the final piece to the puzzle that kept everyone connected and accentuated the value of each and every one of them.

And now they had to get her back.

“What the hell happened?!” Himchan roared as Zelo limped into the rundown warehouse that made up the headquarters for their small gang. The worried tone to his voice alerted the others, and within a fraction of a second, the youngest member was surrounded by matching expressions of worry and confusion as they noted his bloody and disheveled appearance. “Zelo,” Himchan tried again, this time in a low, soft inflection as his dark eyes probed his friend for an explanation, perceiving the turmoil the younger male was experiencing.

Zelo’s lip quivered and his breaths became erratic as he finally pulled his gaze from the concrete floor to meet the gazes of his group of friends. The first tear escaped his pain filled eyes and raced down his cheek only to mix with the smear of blood discoloring his porcelain skin. The salty droplet was tainted pink with the cruor before it fell silently onto the boy’s shirt. His display of grief only heightened the apprehension amongst the others.

“Where’s Y/N?” Yongguk questioned, breaking the silence as his eyes scanned the empty space behind Zelo, expecting in vain for Jongup’s sister to stride through the door and appease the pit forming in his stomach. The feigned composure in his voice drew a sob from the youngest member before he confirmed the group’s worst fear.

“They got her.”

Everyone felt the weight of the statement. The air surrounding them suddenly took on a heaviness as it drew itself from their lungs. Their hearts clench and their stomachs drop to the floor, as they each battled their emotions over the grim news. Himchan lets go of the grasp he had on Zelo’s shoulders and took a step back as his mind reeled over the events that were to come of this. His mouth fell open and closed before he turned away from the young member. He ran a stressed hand through his thick locks before releasing a growl and throwing one of the tool trays to the floor creating a loud crash as the metal tools clanged against the floor and dispersed in various directions. Zelo was the only one to flinch from the commotion, continuing to cry as Bang cursed and stalked off to his private office. Jongup gasped on his breath and fell into the nearest chair while Youngjae and Daehyun each entombed their emotions and instead directed their focus on Zelo, helping him across the garage to sit on the couch. A pained groan escaped the young man as he slumped onto the worn piece of furniture, clutching his ribs.

Himchan halted his paces only to cross the distance separating himself from Zelo. He knelt before the young man, locking his eyes with him. “What exactly happened? Did they say they say anything?” His focus searched Zelo’s expression, watching for any and every change that could be a silent clue to the events that only the youngest had witnessed.

Zelo shook his head and hiccupped on his sobs. “I don’t know. We were on our way back and they just pulled up in an SUV and jumped us. They were yelling about something, but I don’t know what they were saying. I was just trying to fight them off-” He choked on another sob before bringing his sad eyes to look up at Himchan. “And then they just stopped and got back in their car and drove off. I didn’t even realize they had taken her until it was too late.” He wiped the salty moisture from his face as he took a shaky breath. “I should have paid more attention. I should have protected her. I’m so sorry.” His gaze dropped to his lap once more as silent tears dampened the fabric of his jeans.

It took nearly a half hour to calm Zelo down, and even longer to convince Jongup that rushing after Y/N with guns blazing was not the best course of action. They had no information to go from, no indication as to what the kidnappers planned to do with her, much less why they took her in the first place. They were at a standstill for the time being and each passing second tore further and further into their resolve.

Two days passed since Jongup’s sister was taken and the event had taken a clear toll on the group. The silence amongst them was deafening as they waited for something… anything. There was no word from those that had taken which only caused greater grief amongst the close group. Waiting with such uncertainty was wearing their nerves thin.

“They haven’t asked for ransom. That’s a bad sign, isn’t it?” Daehyun broke the silence, anxious to talk about the situation. Instead of answers, he only received glares for voicing these thoughts aloud as Jongup clenched his jaw and dropped his gaze to his lap.

Seated beside Daehyun, Youngjae cleared his throat. “It doesn’t have to be a bad sign. For all we know she could have gotten away from them and they have no leverage to hold over us. You guys know how slick she can be,” he offered, hoping to relieve any tension he possibly could. The silence was nearly driving him mad, but what was even worse was this sitting around with no plan of action. He hated playing the waiting game; it made his skin crawl, but what was most important for the time being was to keep themselves together and prepared for what was to come. He had already done everything he could to get the information to locate her and move things along, but even his expertise at hacking had failed him.

“If that was the case, why isn’t she here?” Jongup challenged, keeping his gaze tied to his hands that rested in fists on his lap.

Youngjae had no real answers to that. There were many plausible answers. Still, none seemed worthy of mentioning at the moment. Speculation was one thing; giving false hopes was another. He wasn’t going to be the one to put out a bunch of lame excuses or scenarios of why they should hope for the best when things were clearly not in their favor. Y/N is well known for her ability to weasel her way out of situations, but there’s always going to be that one time when she can’t. All things considered, it’s seeming as if they had finally encountered that one time. This new gang seemed to finally be their match, and after what they had done to Sleepy, there is no saying what kind of fate is in store for Y/N.

A loud bang against the garage door grabbed all of their attention. Before any of those seated on the couches could respond, Bang finally opened the door of his office and made an appearance. It was the first any of the others had seen of him in those two days. The others speculated that he was hermitting himself away as he worked himself tired to come up with a plan of action or beating himself up over her kidnapping. As wise and strong as their leader was, it was no secret that his greatest weakness was his bleeding heart - especially for those in this very group. He took his role as the eldest and their leader extremely seriously; their safety and well-being was his responsibility. No matter what anyone else said, there was no swaying him from that thought.

It took only a few prolonged seconds for their leader to open the door and find the thumb drive that had been left behind for him to find as the messenger raced away on a motorbike. Yongguk stepped out to the street and watched his best lead get away with no hope of being able to catch up with the head-start this helmeted foe had. It only served to anger him more as the burdening feeling of helplessness pulled his shoulders even lower. Closing his eyes and licking his lips, the leader gave a deep breath before turning back to the garage, joining the others in their makeshift sitting area. “Youngjae, do you have your laptop?”

Without question, Youngjae nodded and pulled his laptop out of his bag sitting on the floor beside his feet. The others watched in curiosity as their leader placed the laptop on the coffee table before them all and stuck the USB into the computer. Immediately the drive opened on the screen with a single video in its contents. Bang swallowed the lump in his throat before clicking the video’s thumbnail. Immediately, each of the members flinched as though they had been punched in the gut as the image of a tired and beaten Y/N filled the screen. Blood stained the side of her face and clung to the locks of hair that surrounded. Her eyes drooped, obviously begging to close before she glanced up and looked directly at the camera. Sweat mingled with the blood as it dripped down her chest that heaved with each gasping breath she took. It was utterly heartbreaking to see their Y/N in such a condition.

Suddenly their view of Y/N was obstructed when a large man wearing a mouth mask stepped in front of the camera. Though half his face was covered, it was clear by the crinkling of his eyes that he was grinning.

“Things haven’t gone according to plan, have they? You thought you were just going to send her in and have us do your dirty work? I’m offended by the extent that you underestimate us.” The man shook his finger tauntingly. “Haven’t the others questioned how we so easily got our hands on your girl? Or even why we have her in particular? Or do you all underestimate one another as well?” He chuckled. “How does it feel to know you’ve got a traitor amongst you that’s low enough to hand over one of your own for their own agenda?” The man gave another haunting chuckle before the screen went dark, leaving the group to process the information they had been given.

#bap #b.a.p #bap scenario #b.a.p scenario #kpop scenarios #angst #bap angst #b.a.p angst #bap au #b.a.p au #gang au #bap gang #b.a.p gang #bap gang au #b.a.p gang au #bap one shot #b.a.p one shot

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funkzpiel · 7 years

Text

The True Nature of Percival Graves - Ch2

WARNING - Contains Explicit Content

Fantastic Beasts Kink Meme Fill:

Grindelwald is as alpha as it gets, but he has no idea that Graves is an omega.

Imagine his surprise when he comes home one day to find the Director writhing on the floor in heat, broken and bloody from trying to suppress the heat on his own. Graves needs release and Grindelwald is willing to help.

+ Graves rutting against Grindelwald’s leg against his will ++ Multiple forced orgasms

INCLUDES: Rape, Non-Con, Dubious Consent, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Gellert Grindelwald, Omega Percival Graves, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Suppressants, Kidnapping, Body Horror, Manipulation, Rimming, Implied Mpreg, Impregnation, Forced Orgasm, Multiple Orgasms, Male Lactation, Forced Lactation, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Mpreg

Conditions improved incredibly after his heat finally ended – much to Graves’ annoyance; as if a lush bed or the illusion of freedom would somehow make him fonder of his kidnapper turned rapist. The fucking gall of that man.

Just the thought made Graves’ skin crawl as he paced the generous space that Grindelwald had transformed his cigarette case prison into. Gone were the weeping walls and harsh concrete floors, instead replaced by a large and ornate four poster bed, lush blankets and pillows, carpets that comforted Graves’ bare feet, and quite an assortment of books.

Graves refused to use the bed, though. He refused to partake in anything his captor offered that might transform his incarceration into anything other than what it was. The first time Grindelwald had found him curled on the floor with nothing but the thinnest blanket out of his many plush options, the dark wizard had ended up resorting to the Imperius Curse to get him to use the bed. As if Graves’ health was suddenly something of concern, something precious to be monitored and upheld.

It made Graves’ stomach twist just thinking about it. How the unwilling reveal of his biological nature had somehow swayed Grindelwald’s perception of him. He was no longer a wizard to be carefully held under lock and key or to be taken seriously. He was an Omega, something rare and precious to be coddled and spoiled and groomed.

Which Grindelwald did quite often. Gone were the grimy, overgrown locks that his imprisonment had earned him. Instead, he was left with soft, silky hair that Grindelwald kept immaculately trimmed and maintained – not like his style from before, sleek and gelled back and powerful – but something softer. The man had allowed some of the buzzed hair along the edges of Graves’ head to grow out into something long enough to comb one’s fingers through. And as though that weren’t enough, with the soft pass of his thumbs the Alpha had removed the silver that he had gained from stress and age. It made him look years younger. More gentle and inviting. More Omegan.

And that was not the only thing that Grindelwald had altered to better suit the image of a man of Graves’ nature. After ruining Graves’ old tattered clothing during his heat, the man had decided to generously replace what he had lost. But instead of crisp white shirts or pressed pants, Graves was left with a simple decision: dress in the loose, elegant silks that Grindelwald provided or walk around naked – which given Grindelwald’s new inclination toward rape, Graves had no intention of doing.

So pained as it made him to consent to anything the dark wizard gave him, he wore the thin silk garments that Grindelwald left out of him each day; as if charmed into existence with or without Grindelwald’s direct presence.

Today, the madman had provided nothing more than a pair of slinky black silk pants that flowed like water over Graves’ skin. It was a strange shake up from the norm. One that Graves, in hindsight, should have known had more significance than he anticipated.

He was halfway through a set of rigorous pushups – unwilling to let his body decay since it was the last weapon left to him – when a telltale pop fired off behind him. Then all at once, Graves felt the strength to hold himself up leave his muscles in a slow, delicious rush that left him slowly melting to the floor – relaxed, sleepy, and pissed as fucking hell. A spell.

With a dark glare, he tried to snarl at the man now walking into his line of sight, but couldn’t manage much more than a soft rumble. Instead, he was forced to watch from the floor as Grindelwald swept back his grand coat and placed his hands on his hips in disappointment. He was still wearing Graves’ face today, something he hated if for nothing more than the fact that it was a glaring reminder of everything he had been – no one would have ever guessed he wasn’t an Alpha, not looking like that. Standing tall, broad and imposing, confident, dressed to the nines. No one would have ever known, until Grindelwald. Until the fucking heat.

Grindelwald clucked his tongue, and Graves felt rage flood him, but all it did was make his cheeks burn. Something he knew the Alpha loved.

“My dearest Director, why do you insist on this sort of behavior?” He asked as he kneeled to pet damp hair out of Graves’ eyes. Then he brushed a thumb soothingly across his sweaty brow, as though quite fond. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

That incited just enough rage that, for a moment, Graves felt Grindelwald’s calming hold on him slipping. He locked onto that fire and managed to use it jerk his face away with a disgusted look. He got as far as bracing himself up on his forearms before the spell came down upon him again – heavier this time – until finally Graves found his cheek against the plush carpeting once more. When what should have been a frustrated growl only managed to come out as a soft, desperate keen, he flinched. And hated himself.

His body started to shake from the effort of fighting Grindelwald’s spell, something he wasn’t even aware of until a large hand – his own fucking hand – suddenly began to run soothingly along the long line of his trembling body. After one or two firm strokes, he felt his body finally fully relax and let out a small, dry sob of frustration.

“Shush, shush, shush,” Grindelwald crooned lovingly as he continued to pamper Graves’ body with gentle touches. Graves knew it was his biology fucking him over. That without suppressants and so close to the Alpha he had just shared a heat with, his body was simply reacting on instinct. Biological coding. It didn’t make the sting of betrayal any better.

Under the deft attention of those hands, Graves’ found his mind slowly slipping into a comfortable haze. His breathing steadied and his heart slowly ceased its racing until he was somewhat close to a doze. His eyelashes fluttered gently against his cheek – far longer than any Alpha’s lashes would ever be, he noted with disgust – as he tried to stay awake and aware.

“I hate seeing you like this, darling,” Grindelwald said, his hand moving to cup the back of Graves’ neck. If possible, Graves felt his body slacken more. He bit his lip and tried to remember that this was the man responsible for the deaths of hundreds of innocent people, No Maj and magical alike. That this was the man that had kidnapped him and stole his face and raped him.

But the haze kept building, as if compelled, until finally Graves could do more than sigh softly against the floor. It was then that Grindelwald shifted him onto his back and gathered him up into his arms. And Graves could do nothing more than loll uselessly, his nose tucked against the man’s clavicle, as he was ushered gently to the bed. The gentleness with which the dark wizard cradled him made Graves want to tear his own hair out. They were enemies. He was the fucking Director of Magical Security for all of America. And yet Grindelwald treated him as though he were made of glass. It sickened him.

He had expected the man to lay him out on the bed like some decadent desert. To spread his legs and take him as he had countless times since his heat. Instead, Grindelwald kept Graves huddled in his lap as he shifted himself into a comfortable position against the pillows and the headboard. How he managed to make Graves look small in his grasp when they both wore the same skin was beyond him – but it wasn’t the first time he had felt a spike of fear at the thought that the loss of his suppressants had not simply affected his heats but in fact his entire body. Despite exercising, he could not help but feel as though he had lost muscle mass. His hair was beginning to grow in finer around his extremities. He hadn’t needed to shave as often any more – something Grindelwald had noted quite pleasantly during one of his many grooming sessions.

Lost in his thoughts as he was, he didn’t notice when the man dropped his transfiguration spell. Limbs grew beneath and around him until he was even more dwarfed than he had been before in the arms of Gellert Grindelwald. When he looked up at the man with a weak glare, the dark wizard only smiled.

“I love seeing you like this,” Grindelwald said gently as he brushed a stray hair from Graves’ brow, fingers trailing down to touch plush lips. “Soft. Gentle. Just as nature intended you.”

This time, Graves actually did find the strength to growl. But his attempt to bring his hands between himself and Grindelwald’s chest and push away were not nearly as successful. He felt as meager as a kitten, and the fact that Grindelwald insisted on looking at him as if he were one disgusted him to no end.

“I am more than my biology,” Graves snarled weakly.

“I know,” Grindelwald agreed, making Graves flinch as the dark wizard brought up a free hand to gather one of Graves’ wrists. “Why do you think I gave you these?”

Gentle fingers traced the elaborate tattoos – long, circling, spiraling bracelets of ink that were as beautiful as they were terrible – that laced across the pale skin of Graves’ wrists. Graves’ flinched and drew his hands back to his chest, but the reminder was there all the same. It had been a painful experience, receiving the marks. Actually, it was the last painful act of torture Grindelwald had bestowed upon him since his heat.

But it was also the worst thing he had done to him.

Unlike the manacles which, with time and precision and dedication, could be flooded and broken – these marks attacked him in a far different matter. Just the thought of it made Graves’ cheeks burn in frustration and anger and embarrassment.

Because now any act of magic on his part, no matter how small, resulted in one thing: desire. Small acts were not so bad. A simple Lumos was pleasurable, but not unbearable. But the problem was that the desire did not fade with the ceasing of the spell. It lingered – heavy and dull and hot in his stomach – and it’d build with each spell. Build and build and build until he was left as a writhing ball of distraught agony on the bed – leaking slick and humping the silk sheets erratically, desperately searching for a release that only the bestower of those marks could give him.

And that was just little spells. The one time he had tried to hex Grindelwald into another fucking century, the spell has dissipated before it could even hit the man – and instead, Graves had immediately fallen to his knees with a desperate, keening cry. He had never even experienced an erection fill so quickly, so solidly, in such little time. As if he had been on the edge of orgasm for hours instead of completely soft mere moments ago. Slick had gushed from his asshole immediately in a burst that set his cheeks afire, and all the while, Grindelwald just smiled.

“You’re maturing so beautifully, my dear,” Grindelwald said, cupping his cheek, breaking him from his thoughts. The dark wizard only snickered fondly when Graves shot him a disgusted glare. “It’s true. I never would have guessed it, looking at you that first night. But now that those filthy suppressants are out of your system… So pretty.”

Graves pulled away and nearly succeeded in toppling back away from his captor if not for the arm that suddenly tightened around his back and pulled him in again.

“Why are you doing this?” Graves asked. “The room. The… The gentleness,” he gasped out in loathing.

Grindelwald blinked in genuine surprise, then said, “Because, dear thing, you’re with child," as if it were as obvious as the color of the sky.

And the flood of sheer shock and panic that followed was enough to overcome Grindelwald’s compulsion and send Graves scrambling away. Grindelwald let him go, until finally Graves was standing once more at the foot of the bed – chest heaving, eyes panicked.

“No.”

“Yes,” Grindelwald said, kindly and slowly as if speaking to someone particularly dumb. “Did you not know?”

“I’m not pregnant,” Graves reiterated, his heart a heavy hammer against his chest.

He tried to ignore Grindelwald’s small, knowing smirk when he subconsciously found his hand trailing to the hard plane of his stomach. No, he wasn’t pregnant. He couldn’t possibly be pregnant. He couldn’t possibly be fertile at his age and after years upon years of suppressants. It couldn’t be true…

“I can prove it, if you don’t believe me,” Grindelwald said, and suddenly he was rising from the bed and approaching. Merlin, was Grindelwald taller than he had been last time he visited? Graves’ felt his breathing start to come in shaky, faltering gasps. He shook his head and looked around with wild eyes, as if there were an escape to be found that he had just never noticed before.

There was not.

“Don’t come any closer,” Graves growled, hand outstretched. Magic was curdling just beneath his skin, reacting to his fear and ready, ready to be let loose. But his wrists felt tight and warm where the tattoos began to thrum against his veins – a warning. He whined through grit teeth, trapped and terrified and unknowing of what to do. Fuck, he missed the days when he used to know what to fucking do.

Instead, all he could do was watch as Grindelwald approached him like he were a wild animal, arms outspread and placating. Grindelwald was expecting him to use magic, Graves just knew he was. So instead, he did the only thing he could do. He lunged out deftly to punch him; all his rage and his fear sending him forward with a speed he didn’t think he was capable of.

He landed a solid hit across the man’s jaw, making him stagger back. The victory of a connected hit rushed through Graves’ veins and urged him forward for another. He managed to land one more blow before a flicker of something white hot and dangerous flashed across Grindelwald’s eyes and he caught Graves’ next blow with one hand.

It stopped Graves in his tracks, and no sooner did Grindelwald catch his attack than he whirled said limb in a deft move that spun Graves into the opposite direction. Then that arm was levered up his back, making the auror yelp as a spike of pain lanced up his arm and began to burn from the manhandling. The strange angle also pulled at his chest, making him ache. He grimaced and bit down a whimper before it could manifest. He tried to wriggle out of the hold, training flickering through his head, but Grindelwald already sent a quick kick at his ankle and brought him down – all the while following until finally he had Graves sitting on the floor, his back to Grindelwald’s chest.

“Now that was dirty of you, Director,” Grindelwald said darkly against his ear, out of breath. Graves couldn’t help but feel a little victorious for that, at least.

“Says the man that stripped me of my magic,” Graves snarled, pulling to free himself from the long, strong arms that embraced him.

“Wouldn’t want you getting away and going back into the field, darling,” Grindelwald said, smiling into the soft skin behind his ear. “Not while you have something that belongs to both of us within you.”

Graves’ felt his skin shudder as a large hand came to rest on his flat stomach, thumb brushing gently against his skin. He snarled and struggled again, but Grindelwald just held him tighter until he tired out once more.

“Just imagine it. You’ll grow soft here,” he said, rubbing him still. “And that softness will grow heavy until you're swollen with our child. So round you can’t even get up from sitting without effort. Tottering about unsteadily from the sheer girth of your stomach.”

“I’m not pregnant,” was all Graves could manage to say, breathing wrecked as he shook his head. He’d say the words like a fucking mantra until they were true.

With one arm still barred around Graves’ waist, the other lifted up slowly – up and up – until finally it settled on a nipple. Grindelwald grinned into his shoulder and kissed the skin he found there.

“Are you sure, darling?” He asked, then pinched it – hard. Despite himself, Graves yelped. And somehow the burning from before increased. His heart picked up its pace.

“Stop it,” he said.

Instead, Grindelwald just tweaked him again, sending a jolt through his body. Graves trembled.

“Usually milk doesn’t come until later in the pregnancy,” Grindelwald said as he strengthened his hold on Graves’ hips and arms – holding him still as he began to firmly massage Graves’ pec. “But I added something special to your food the moment I smelled your scent change. In fact, you should be quite close to producing. Only a little, but it’ll be the proof you need, I think.”

“Don’t.”

But the hand didn’t stop. It just continued to knead and press and fondle until the burning in Graves’ pectoral turned from uncomfortable to raging. He squirmed, trying to avoid Grindelwald’s hand, but only ended up pressing himself even more firmly into the Alpha’s back. With a shudder of horror, he keened beneath the man’s administrations. Graves tried to convince himself that this was just a show. That nothing was going to happen and Grindelwald was just riling him up for his own amusement.

“Good boy,” Grindelwald crooned, “Just like that.”

And then Graves felt a small, almost imperceptible pop and the pressure finally pushed through, sending a thin but firm squirt of milk arcing across the floor. Graves’ breath caught in his chest and very quickly he felt a burning begin to build in his eyes.

“No,” he whispered.

“Yes,” Grindelwald purred, and suddenly Graves was being twisted. Shocked as he was, he didn’t even put up a fight until it was too late and he was already straddling Grindelwald’s lap. With wide eyes, he pressed against the man’s chest to get away but the Alpha merely looped a strong arm around him and growled.

Graves didn’t have much more warning than that before a set of familiar lips attached themselves to his agitated and over-sensitized nipple. He gasped as first a tongue lapped across the little nub with a flick and then lips sealed over it completely before Grindelwald's cheeks hollowed out into a fierce suck.

Graves keened and tossed his head back, overrun by the sudden alien sensation of having something forcefully pulled from his body. His hands trembled against Grindelwald, torn between pushing away and just fucking holding on while Graves tried to make sense of the sheer bombardment of sensations flooding through him.

Fingers pushed and prodded at the sides of his pec, urging him to produce, and once they went evidently content with that, they moved to his other nipple and began to tweak that, too.

And all the while, Graves felt a hole open up in his stomach as he realized with no small amount of dread that his dick was slowly but surely crawling to attention between them. His pants felt damp.

“St-stop,” he whimpered, trying to push away.

Surprisingly, Grindelwald seemed to listen. With a smile and a lick across his lips, he pulled back to take Graves in – and his smile only grew when he noticed how ravished Graves looked. Mouth open, eyes slitted, chest heaving, left pectoral red and swollen and slick.

“Did you know that an Omega’s milk has magical properties to it, dear thing?” Grindelwald asked with a grin, and when it was obvious that Graves was not going to answer, he just continued – all the while playing with Graves’ other nipple. “It’s important for the growth of the child physically, yes, but it also works like a supplement to better one’s magic. Of any age.”

When the implication finally slithered into Graves’ head, Grindelwald grinned at his horror.

“Why do you think I wanted to kick start your mammary production so soon? Because every suck,” he said, bowing down to lick Graves’ nipple, “Every pull,” he said, nibbling it til it grew wet with more than just spit, “and every sip will make me stronger. You will make me stronger.”

And finally with an open mouthed kiss to his right pectoral, Grindelwald breathed against him, “You’re so good to me, my Omega,” and before Graves could say a thing about it, sucked.

Grindelwald began to visit every night, after that. And with every night that passed, Graves was able to give a little more – each milking taking a little longer than it had the night before. Grindelwald never gave him a shirt again after that, far too content to let Graves get acquainted with his changing body. His pectorals didn’t turn into breasts, per say, but they did grow heavier – swollen and painful by the time Grindelwald returned to him each night.

And Graves always fought it.

But Grindelwald always won.

#Fantastic Beasts Kink Meme #Fill #Percival Graves #Original Percival Graves #Omega Percival Graves #Alpha Gellert Grindelwald #Gellert Grindelwald #Gellert grindelwald x percival graves #abo dynamics #originally on ao3 #Graves Fic

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