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keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

long days for bad people

(r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

word count: ~6k

Being a prized, adored possession was far better than you thought it would be.

warnings: light daddy kink (no age play, just the name in mostly jest), spit kink, crying kink, degradation, brief descriptions of blood + violence, kidnapping (consensual?? read a/n), brat taming, light sadomasochism, mind break, praise kink

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here it is, mafia au, villain hawks, dom, brat tamer, soft(?!) hawks. what more could you want?

there’s briefly described kidnapping at the beginning of the fic but it is reiterated throughout that this is consensual! no yandere/stockholm stuff in this fic.

i’ve been working on this one for a while and i’m happy to finally share it. hope y’all enjoy!!

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You shouldn’t have fucked around with the League.

God, it was common knowledge in the parts of town and circles you inhabited. Of all criminal syndicates, mobs, to fuck with, the League wasn’t one of them. They were known for their complete cruelty and violent delights. The League had such a reputation due to the fact that they openly left bodies carved up and burnt as they pleased.

But, you were a fucking idiot and got involved anyways.

It was a small loan, Giran almost seemed to scoff when he gave you the cash. You and your almost-stranger of a roommate were just very late on some bills and were going to lose a lot of material items if you didn’t scrounge up at least two paychecks in about three days.

You swallowed your pride and took the first and easiest loan you could get. That just happened to be with gap-toothed, wide-grinning Giran of the League. He, you knew from what you’d heard, was somewhat fair in matters like yours.

You had two weeks to pay him back.

...

You didn’t make it in time.

You were close to the amount, notably. You scrounged and clawed your way into getting the cash back. You weren’t much of a pickpocket, but you snagged some odd jobs around the apartment building that you and your roommate were still fortunate enough to keep a room in.

After one particular job, a nasty carpentry gig that you weren’t qualified for, you returned home tired and worn.

Sure, you were a day late on payment. But with this last gig, you were so close. The League would have to pity two, stupid, stupid young girls?

They didn’t, you realized, as you stepped into your apartment.

Your roommate's slain corpse was laying over the arm of your cheap couch, eyes vacant and mouth dripping blood onto the old beige carpet.

You dropped to your knees, horrified and completely stunned.

“You should’ve known better,” it was a hum from across the room, from a figure you didn’t even know was in the room until then. “Really, you’d expect folks to be smarter.”

Your mouth dried as the figure moved from the nighttime shadows, flashing a dazzling smile and ruffling crimson wings.

Hawks.

You’d heard of him, everyone had. Terrifying, fast, precise, and cutthroat. He took orders and didn’t ask questions other than snark. He talked too much, fucked too much.

“W-wait,” You didn't know why you were pleading, but you had to try, right? “I’m so close, wait—”

Hawks sauntered up to you wielding one of his feather blades, the red of blood mixing with the filaments of his feathers.

He crouched down in front of you, tsking, “I don’t like begging, angel. I’ll make this quick for you. Your friend there?”

Hawks jerked his finger behind to your dead roommate.

“She fought, pleaded, begged, all that normal shit I don’t like hearing when shitheads like you two don’t make payday,” his voice was slow, talking about death like some casual thing. “I’ll make this nice and fast if you don’t run your mouth anymore, how about that?”

You swallowed, nodding.

The small percentage of your brain that was fully functioning figured dying quickly was a much better way to go than whatever the hell had happened to your roommate. There was far too much blood for that to be quick.

Hawks hummed, the tip of his feather blade tipping up your chin so you were forced to meet his gaze. You vaguely heard the pitter-patter of your tears hitting the carpet below. Blood rushed in your ears as you stared death in the face.

Hawks appraised you.

You watched the metaphorical cogs and wheels turning in Hawks’ skull as he looked you up and down before flashing forward, gathering you in his arms and flying from the apartment.

Your first thought was obvious as you clung to him in the open air:

He’s going to drop you and kill you.

When you screamed, tears growing thicker, he slapped a gloved hand over your mouth, “I’m giving you an out, kid. Trust me. You’ll prefer this over death.”

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Your new existence was certainly better than death.

If you were ever caught and convicted of any of the illegal things you participated in, you’d be fucked, thrown into prison until you rotted, until you were just dust and bone.

But, until then, you worked for the League.

You had groveled at the feet of their leader, Shigaraki, hands clasped on your lap, claiming your worth, or maybe lack thereof. Not many attachments, not many people who’d miss you, a semi-useful quirk.

With a boot shoved into your skull, he sneered that you’d be the League’s new errand dog.

The real reason they accepted you was due to the threatening air Hawks was exuding and the fact that their old ‘errand bitch’ had died the week prior. They needed a new body to act as a civilian and do things that only an unsuspecting-looking ‘civilian’ could. You fit the bill, and Hawks had taken a liking to you.

Oddly, working for the League was actually pretty okay.

You got your own room. It was small, but you only had to share a bathroom with the somewhat unhinged Himiko, but she was fairly nice once she warmed up to you. Everyone lived in the League’s HQ and went about their business, getting drunk at their bar front each night.

Most of the mess happened at night, but it was important to put on a nice veneer and keep spirits high. Not to mention that no one would dared to fuck with the League, anyways. The cops and federal government had long been paid off due to the resources that the League had acquired for them.

You felt somewhat untouchable.

A lot of this confidence was due to the fact that you had become Hawks’s... Keigo’s...

‘Songbird’

As he liked to call you, anyway.

Keigo was the general, loveable annoyance of the League, but his connections were invaluable and his skills were unmatched. Despite how he could grate on people (read: Dabi and Shigaraki), he was respected and feared just as much as everyone else was, if not more so. And being his metaphorical and literal pet had its perks.

Sure, the first time he had you come to his ‘office’ and he fucked you against the window until it was smeared with cum and blood was a bit surprising, but god, if you didn’t fucking love it. Being Keigo’s personal fucktoy came with protection, pleasure, and a surprising amount of genuine attention. The dude was lonely, and so were you. The two of you made a good ‘couple’, if you could even call yourselves that. The sadism he doled out was always counterpointed by affections that did seem genuine.

Keigo was fond of you, and you of him. Maybe your brush with death had twisted something in your head, to even allow yourself to get close to a man like Keigo, but you couldn’t make yourself care.

You were comfortable and content.

...

[bird boss]: hey babe ;^) get to my office in the next thirty minutes

[you]: what if i don’t

[bird boss]: do u really want to find out

[you]: ...

[you]: im just curious

[bird boss]: don’t get cheeky songbird

[you]: u make me wanna u know

[you]: i know it gets you riled up

[bird boss]: tread lightly kid

[you]: oooo i gave you some guff over text

[you]: what’re you gonna do about it?

[bird boss]: use your imagination

[bird boss]: 25 minutes now, songbird

[bird boss]: don’t make this worse for yourself <3

You set your phone on your cheap duvet, quickly primped yourself to see Keigo. He wasn’t too strict about your appearance but wearing dark clothes and some of the more expensive gifts he’d gotten you over the months he’d been screwing you never hurt. Something about ownership with him always got him hot and bothered.

You tried to remind yourself frequently that Keigo saw you as some sort of possession, but a possession with feelings.

Meandering through HQ was always a bit daunting, despite your protections. Your skimpy outfit choice and hardly-hidden lingerie made you feel a bit more like an object than you liked too.

There were hardly hungry mouths around the League, they kept you all fed, but god, were there starving eyes.

Dabi wolf-whistled as you walked past him through a common room, shouting something about how Keigo was collecting his pound of flesh for the day. Maybe a line or two about being a whore, but that was all flavor at that point. Keigo called you far meaner, more sinful things. And hell, it wasn’t like Keigo hadn’t... shared you on more than one occasion.

Maybe you were a little fucked up for enjoying your lifestyle to the degree you did, but why not indulge where you could? Life was far shittier scraping paint off old fences and picking up cans to just scrape by.

Opulence was a breath of fresh air. And if you were Keigo’s fuck toy? Then, god, you were Keigo’s fuck toy.

When you arrived at Keigo’s office, you knocked gently on the door, quickly adjusting your skirt and blouse.

The door opened, though no one was behind it. Only a single one of Keigo’s feathers allowed you entrance.

His office seemed daunting and extravagant for a man who did most of his ‘work’ in far-shadier, far-bloodier places. The walls were covered in mirrors and old paintings, something out of vanity and pride, knowing how Keigo saw himself. There were several black leather couches scattered around against walls, some stained by your various... activities. There was a broad desk parallel to a back wall made entirely of windows.

Night had fallen, leaving the room lit by a few lamps and warm fixtures.

“Hey, boss,” You hummed as you stepped in, shutting the door behind you just before the lingering scarlet feather flicked the lock on the door.

And the other one.

And the deadbolt.

You swallowed thickly.

As much as you enjoyed a lot of the perks of your... position, it was also daunting.

Keigo was daunting, all bloody colors, vanity, and hunger.

He sat behind his desk, wings puffed up, and partially extended over the back of his chair. The desk chair was massive, specifically acquired so that you would have enough room to properly straddle his lap for hours on end if he so wished.

Keigo idly clicked around on his desktop computer. He leaned slack and back into the chair, legs spread wide and exuding casual confidence that reeked of his own ego.

Keigo normally wore a mix of black and red, as edgy as it was. He liked to seem clean, hide the stains of sanguine that undoubtedly lingered on him no matter how he tried to cleanse himself. His black slacks were pressed, the seams pristine. The black shirt he wore was rolled up to his elbows, the buttons of his red vest undone as well. His black tie hung half-undone and limp around his neck. His tousled gold hair was mussed as normal, ruffled by his flights. His feathers might’ve needed preening, but you doubted that that was the reason he called you to his office.

And based on the deep set of his brow and the sickly smile on his lips, he was already on edge and in a mood.

“Songbird, come over here, will you?” Keigo sat back from his typing, watching you from across the room. He took you in the same way a parched man sucks down red wine, greedily and soon to be fucked. “On my lap.”

You complied, despite your earlier attitude. You padded across the room, going around his desk.

As you moved to straddle his lap, worn hands gripped your waist. His amber eyes gave you a warning, crinkling at the edges, “Not like that, sweetheart. Do daddy right.”

Oh, so it was one of those moods.

Maybe you were Keigo’s sexual punching bag so he could exert control on something he could later kiss better and patch up.

Sure, he was going to fucking ruin you, but part of the fun with him was that the more it hurt, the nicer he was after. And, all things considered, with some of the... other folks the League brought in to satiate its member’s desires, you fared far better. Keigo cared about you, in his own particular way.

You tried to lean over his lap yourself, but his hands and feathers positioned you perfectly as he wanted. With the tight grip he had on your waist and shoulders, dragging you just as he liked, it was easy to see his need for control.

Your head hung off of one of his thighs as you squirmed in his lap. His bulge already pressed into your ribs, a wonderful reminder of the reward you’d reap later on. Keigo’s hands gathered your hand to the small of your back, a feather replacing their grip a moment later.

“Sit with me while I finish this shit,” Keigo grumbled, going back to clicking the desktop. His leg bobbed absentmindedly, his free hand rubbing over the curve of your barely-covered ass. “Be a good girl, (Y/N). If you can stand that.”

He laughed under his breath.

You let your head dangle limply downwards, blood rushing to your cheeks.

You’d thought you’d be in for more of an ass-kicking, but it appeared Keigo was taking things unusually slow. You knew better than to complain, but kicking up a bit of metaphorical sand couldn’t be that bad, right?

“I dunno,” You hummed, kicking your legs lightly. “I don’t think you like it when I’m a ‘good girl’, daddy.”

“Watch it.” A single, sharp smack to your butt was hardly enough to shut you up, but Keigo did so all the same, rubbing over the covered flesh a moment later, “I’m not in the mood.”

“Are you sure about that?” You wriggled, intentionally pushing up against his growing erection.

His breath stuttered, a smirk pulling at the corners of your lips. The hand on your ass didn’t rear again, rather Keigo kept thumbing smooth circles as he continued to click around on the computer. He might have been actually doing work. Or, he was ignoring you, egging your sass on.

“If you didn’t want anything, why’d you call me in here?” You asked, way too cheeky for the way Keigo’s body was practically vibrating underneath you. Pissing him off had consequences, of course, but you weren’t in the mood to play ‘good girl’ that day.

“I told you, I want you to sit with me,” Keigo pinched your ass. “But, you’re too mouthy to do just that one thing. You’re usually better than this.”

“Am I?” You played innocent, craning to give him a wide smile. “Hadn’t noticed. What I am noticing, is your already-hard cock, dear.”

“Oh, ‘dear’?!” Keigo paused on the computer. “Cheeky. Cute.”

Keigo would just dig in more, lean in, before ‘snapping’, if you could call it that.

You gulped as his hand swatted at upper thighs, his nails almost knicking your skin.

“Up and don’t get smart about it.”

Oh, you were going to be remarkably smart about it.

You rose but hardly stayed upright for long. Sliding down to your knees, you pushed at Keigo’s legs, “Wouldn’t you prefer me down here? Just for a treat while you finish your work?”

Keigo clicked his tongue, gaze flickering down to you, “Fine. Behave yourself.”

Yeah, right. You both knew that that wasn’t going to happen.

You were already tucked underneath his desk, undoing the fly of his pants.

You pulled his cock from his trousers, pumping his cock to full hardness. Smearing around preek for a bit of extra flare before inching forward.

Wrapping your mouth around Keigo’s dick was somewhat of a feat— he had a decent girth to him, so you usually took the opportunity to warm him (and yourself) up with a bit of tip-kissing and kitten licks.

But, you were feeling bold.

You spit on his dick, a move that normally would have earned you plenty of verbal snark, but anything Keigo could’ve said to you was swallowed as you took his cock down to the back of your throat.

You sucked around it, massaging the vein on the bottom with the flat of your tongue. Drool began to pool at the side of your lips as you let the head bump your throat, gag reflex be damned.

All the while, Keigo had stopped moving above you. The fabric of his trouser balled up in his ringed-fingers as he gazed half-lidded down at you.

You smiled around his dick, looking up at him innocently as you began to slowly bob your head. His wings fluttered, twitches and air stirring around you.

Keigo stifled a laugh, a hand tangling in your hair, “All that talk earlier and now you’re treating me to a blowjob without even me having to tell you to? Dove, you’re too much.”

You pulled off of him to reply, “I can only try.”

Before he could reply, you spit on his dick again, and went back to slurping around him.

You held the base of his cock in your hands, twisting and spreading spittle. It almost felt like your actions were for show, but Keigo’s eyes were rolling back in his head all the same.

You smirked.

A drool pool from your mouth, puddling in your lap and soaking your skirt. Not like you weren’t already dripping from the sinful sounds Keigo stopped trying to hold.

“A-ah, that’s it, angel,” Keigo fucked into your mouth with his hold on your hair. “Just like that.”

Your hand rose to play with Keigo’s balls, teasing at the sack as he cried out a high moan above you.

Considering the performance you were giving, it was unsurprising to feel him tensing above you. You’d been on your knees for him hundreds of times; you’d learned to see the little twitches and puffs of breath he’d give when he’d get close to coming.

You pulled off his cock with a pop, detangling the hand from your hair in the motion. It was all fast enough that Keigo couldn’t have stopped you in his hazy, pleasure-filled state.

Based on the look of rapid disbelief he was giving you, your trick had worked well. Knowing Keigo’s... tendencies made you hesitant to push him too much in the past, but for whatever reason, you were feeling stupidly bold.

Consequences.

“Sorry, daddy,” You wiped at your mouth with the back of your hand. “Didn’t feel like swallowing today.”

Keigo’s disheveled appearance was more than gratifying. Knowing how easily you made him come undone by that point was one of the perks of your position.

His hair was more than ruffled, strands and tufts chaotically curled around his cheeks and ears. There was a bright blush on his face, spreading from his nose to the apples of his cheeks, down his deck. At some point, he’d popped the buttons at the top of his shirt. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, half-panting and based on the darkness in his brow and the far-too peachy smile on his face, Keigo was fucking pissed.

His wings stood on end.

You gulped from below him.

Maybe you pushed your luck too far.

Maybe.

“You’re playing real cute today, aren’t you songbird?” Keigo didn’t move, but his feathers twitched above him, wings flaring out even farther. “Real fucking cute.”

You were fucked.

Good.

A few feathers flew from Keigo, one snagging at your wrist, wrapping around it, and pulling you up from the desk.

You wobbled as you stood, dragged across the room as Keigo leisurely followed behind you. When you tried to set your own pace, Keigo swatted your ass with a huff, “You never learn, huh? I thought I’d trained you better than this.”

You opened your mouth to spit some dickish retort, but you were cut off as Keigo’s shoved you onto one of the leather couches.

“Don’t.” Keigo’s tone was acidic as he stood over your, wings still flared out. “I told you I wasn’t in the mood for your cute bullshit, dove, and you still decided to test your luck, huh?”

You kneeled on the cushions, sucking down air, shaking with anticipation.

“You don’t feel like swallowing today? That’s fine, I can work with that,” Keigo shrugged easily from above you.

Keigo had an... active sexual imagination, and you could tell by the crook in his lips that he had something devilish planned as retribution.

A sharp slap came down on your cheek, Keigo catching the opposite jaw and keeping you from recoiling too far. You blinked as the pain spread around your skull like licking flames against a frostbitten body.

You wanted more.

A little grin stretched against your mouth as Keigo rubbed at your cheeks with his thumbs, “Aw, you always get so sweet like this, dove. You can be a good girl if you try, can’t you?”

His actions carried candor and his words absolute torment.

Despite how Keigo was trying to goad you into submission, you had a bit of spark left in you.

Plainly, you spit on him.

The glob of saliva landed on Keigo’s cheek, under his eye.

He blinked at you.

You continued to smile.

His own expression grew strained.

“Oh, songbird,” Keigo damn near lamented, wiping away the kind gift you’d given him. His voice was smooth without any bit of waver, all of the sexually-charged anger rolling just beneath the veneer. “You’re just being pain slut today, aren’t you?”

You were, absolutely. You could feel your arousal wetting your panties, the heat of the strike from your cheek beginning to boil something in your gut.

“You just need a bit of special attention today, right? That’s all.” Keigo tsked, fully removing the tie from around his neck. “You just need a little reminder.”

“Reminder of what?” You asked, tilting your head quizzically.

Keigo flipped you, feathers pushing and bracing you as needed while nimble hands tore off your clothes without reverie.

“Plenty of things, especially with this attitude you’ve got today,” Keigo’s tie looped around your wrists, binding them together at the center of your back.

“You definitely need a reminder of who’s the boss around here,” Keigo shoved you forward, stomach flush with the back of the couch.

You reeled from the pace of it all, shifting your knees for any bit of stimulation you could get. Keigo’s feathers were slicing and pulling your clothes from your body faster than you could keep track of. It was overwhelming, making your mind swim in the best possible way. You throbbed.

“Maybe a reminder about who fucking provides for you,” Keigo’s own clothes were shaken off, dropped to the floor and forgotten.

It was true. Keigo always made sure than you were taken care of, in more ways than one. Despite how fast-paced and laid back he could seem, he was always on top of making sure you had more than enough material and immaterial pleasure whether than be in the form of food, fucking, or otherwise.

You yelped as a smack fell across your ass. A feather caught the elastic of your panties, snapping a moment later, leaving you fully bare before him.

Keigo’s worn hand came to press at your throat and jaw, tilting your head back as he climbed behind you, “Maybe, you need a reminder about who keeps you safe.”

This phrase was softer than the others, a sweet kiss pressing to your cheek and his voice a bit more gentle. It was jarring at the skin still stung from his earlier strike, but you cherished the heat besides.

Once again, true. The folks in and outside of the League were greedy. There were plenty of unwanted souls that stole glances at Hawks’s prized songbird. There were starved eyes that tore into you whether you were dolled up for Keigo or not. There had been some... close calls, one could say, but Keigo always was there, in the end, unafraid to get his hands dirty.

“You know what the most important reminder is, dove?” Keigo rolled his hips against you, cock wedging between your thighs.

“N-no,” You stuttered, brain turning gooey as Keigo’s arms snaked around your waist, sharpened nails leaving indents in your hips.

He nosed at your neck, leaving a few love bites in his wake.“‘N-no’, what?”

“I don’t know,” You leaned back into Keigo’s chest, rubbing your thighs around his cock.

“Oh, songbird, you sweet thing,” He chuckled, all teasing and self-indulgent. “I’m the one who makes you feel good.”

He was so right, wasn’t he?

With the way he’d learned your body over the last few months, he’d had some undeniable pursuit to make you feel the best.

Keigo was inquisitive by nature. He had kept you on your back for hours while he finger-fucked you, watching every twitch and roll of your hips to figure out just the right ways to break you. He’d kissed and sucked and slapped every inch of you, sussing out the perfect ways to make you writhe and cry for him.

Sure, you were an absolute terror to him sometimes. Not to mention that Keigo jumping you covered in the blood of that day's targets was as macabre and horrifying as it sounded.

But, fuck, if he didn’t know how to bring you to ecstasy that fucking ruined you in the best way.

Keigo got off on watching you shatter for him. It was the reason he’d torn you from that cheap, bloodied apartment in the first place. A kind, naive little morsel that he could play with as he wanted. You didn’t complain. Fuck, you reveled in his attention. You gave it back to him, like the fucked up, semi-divine being could be any more debauched than he already was.

Corruption spreads, but you’d never complain. If being plucked from struggling for pennies to being fucked stupid by a man who could kill you at a moments notice, a man who would kill for you, somehow poisoned you?

You’d die with a bitter taste on your tongue and a smile on your face.

Keigo rubbed at your clit, nipping at your neck, and rolled his hips greedily. His cock was covered in a mix of your slick and his own preek, easily sliding between plushness of your thighs.

“You love pushing me, acting all tough,” Keigo chastised, clicking his tongue. “I mean it when I say it's cute.”

You don’t have any more quick retorts in you, not when his fingers are down your throat, gagging you as spittle dribbles down your chin onto the leather below. It was sure to leave a mark.

“Behind all that bark and snark, you’re just a good girl, aren’t you?” Keigo punctuated his words with a bite and nip to your neck. “Just needed a reminder, right, dove?”

You whimpered against his fingers at the praise, grinding against Keigo’s touch needily.

His fingers pushed pinched your tongue, breath curling over the shell of your ear, “What are you?”

You mumbled against his fingers, “A g-good g-girl.”

It was humiliating in the best way. Keigo’s light laugh at your attempt. The way he nuzzled his nose into the sweat at the crook of your shoulder was just aloe on the burn.

“I misspoke, if you can believe that,” Keigo’s cock pulled out from your thighs. “Songbird, you know what I meant to call you?”

You squirmed at the loss, but he was quick to hush you. His fingers left your mouth with a thick trail of spit.

“You’re my good girl.”

You melted in his arms.

Falling back against Keigo’s chest, you craned your neck to lock your lips to his.

Maybe that was it, why all the filth didn’t bother you. Because you had worth. Maybe it was insecurity, or maybe it was self-aware in the face of your lived experience. Before being taken, the life you’d lived made you just a rusty cog in a dying machine. You wouldn’t have amounted to anything, probably.

But with the League?

You were the prized, beloved consort of an angry god.

Keigo owned you, body, mind and soul, and you let him. That’s not even to mention how you had him wrapped around your finger. He adored you, under all of it.

Fighting with him was for sport, not blood.

Keigo licked past your lips, pressing his cock to your cunt teasingly. You whined against him, wriggling in his arms.

“What does my good girl want?” Keigo loved making you beg for him, claw for any bit of stimulation. He liked it even better when you were already soft for him.

Stray tears pricked at your eyes, “Y-your cock.”

He pinched the meat of your thigh, shaking his head, “Not good enough. Speak properly, dove. Clear and correctly.”

You swallowed, searching for the words in your own haze.

Your words were willed to be solid.

“I want your cock, daddy.”

It was just enough.

Keigo pushed forward, the head of his cock already stretching your cunt. Consider the girth of it, the lack of preparation stung and burned more than you would’ve liked, as good as it felt to finally be filled.

Keigo cooed at your soft tears, keeping your face to his with a firm hand on your jaw. He shushed you, far too sweetly while licking the salt from your cheeks, “Relax, angel. Big breaths.”

You nodded, sputtering as he speared into you. Keigo’s free hand went back to toying with your clit, encouraging the tension to drain from your body.

As he bottomed out, you shuddered, falling back into his chest. Keigo’s wings fluttered, twitching in wait. Hot breath fanned over your face, Keigo groaning and locking his jaw.

The stimulation was overwhelming. You had expected Keigo to be meaner, considering how mouthy you’d been.

Yet, it made sense. Keigo had figured out one of the better ways to make you break was softness.

(Truthfully, it made him crack in the same way, but he’d never tell.)

“Feel that?” He asked, just barely rolling his hips.

Keigo released your jaw in favor of wrapping a hand around the front of your throat, tugging you as close he could manage.

“Uh-huh,” You panted.

You could, the kiss of his cock head against your cervix was almost uncomfortable. The delicious pressure and sensitivity already had you reeling in his arms, unsteady and wanting.

“I fill you up so good, don’t I?” Keigo praised his own ego, his cock, but he wasn’t wrong. The curve of his cock rubbed against all the right spots. He stretched you just right, the burn ebbing away into a need for more, more—

“Please, Keigo—” You gasped. Your legs shook as Keigo slammed into you, shoving you forward and into the wall.

His pace was brutal. Hands and feathers kept your back in a harsh arch as he rearranged your insides to his liking. He was kind enough to keep stroking at your clit, bruising your hips and babbling filthy nothings.

“I’m the one who makes you feel this good, only me, right, dove?” Keigo growled into your ear with a particularly hard thrust.

You nodded against the wall, aware of the drool slipping down your chin as your mouth lolled open. Your insides were hot like white flames, searing any ability to use coherent speech.

Keigo snickered at your state. Slowing, he gripped your ass cheeks. You yelped, inside jumping as he pried them apart. You flinched, hole twitching as he spat down, the liquid cool against the flushed skin.

It was little moves like that, Keigo just subtly making your shudder and feel dirty that got you the most fucked up and fucked out.

You pressed back on his cock, panting against the wall and keening. You would’ve spoke, if you could, but anything that you had the ability to say would’ve been torn apart by Keigo’s sharpened, silver tongue.

“My filthy little dove, huh?” Keigo sneered, watching you try to bounce on his cock the best you could. “Such a glutton when you get broken down like this, needy whore.”

The pleasure of Keigo’s cock tearing up your insides was all you could focus on through the fog of your mind, desperate and wanting and greedy.

“Y-your,” You corrected, the words bubbling from your lips, disjointed and messy. “Yours.”

Keigo may have been avian, but he purred like a damn cat at your admission. He held you like a possession, cock throbbing as he fucked you just right.

“God, you’re sweet, angel,” He nipped at your jaw before wrapping his hand around your throat. “Even all fucked up, you know who you belong to so well, don’t you?”

You nodded, rolling your hips back.

Keigo must’ve taken pity on you, squeezing at the sides of your neck. Cruel as he could be, he must’ve noticed the way your thighs and knees trembled against the leather. Keigo knew the cloud in your eyes well— how to get you hazy and how to fuck you perfectly through the fog.

He fucked back into your dripping cunt, pace harder and faster than before. You were helpless to do anything other than fall forward into the wall, cheek squished against the scarlet.

“Who’s brat are you?” Keigo squeezed a bit harder at your neck as you swallowed against his palm.

“Y-yours—!” You squeaked out, mind going numb from the stimulation and pressure.

A wicked sneer curled against your ear as Keigo’s movements grew sloppier. His tongue lolled over your shoulder, messy kisses and slobbery bites and marks left in his wake. He was close, but you weren’t far off easier.

“Little bird,” It was sweeter, closer and hotter. “Can you come for me? Come all over my cock?”

You nodded.

“Not good enough.” Keigo bit down, nearly breaking the fragile skin of your neck. “You know I like words, angel.”

You gave him words, plenty of them.

Nearly incoherent pleads and cries poured from your bruised lips as Keigo pounded into you. Each blabbering wail was met with Keigo groans and grunts, condescending little phrases spitting over you without release.

Your lack of leverage and use of your arms made you thumping against the couch and wall, vision darkening on the edges as the pressure in your gut and the hold on your throat remained.

You were breaking in his arms, tears rolling down your cheeks as you held yourself from cresting. The exertion of it all was taking its toll, legs jellied and chest beading with sweat.

Keigo sensed it, shifting his hips to hit the spongy spot in your cunt, “Come, dove.”

You let go.

A sob shattered in your throat as your climax crashed through you. Keigo released your throat, holding you by your bound arms as he bottomed out. His own harsh cry panged against yours as he stuffed you full.

Surprisingly gently, he rocked his hips against your own, letting the ambient throb of your cunt milk him dry.

You came down, rolling and spinning as you sucked down air a bit too fast. Keigo panted behind you, though the sound seemed dull.

The pressure from your wrists released, soft thumbs rubbing at where the fabric had bitten into your forearms, “Hey, angel, you with me?”

You could only nod weakly, exhaustion and aches creeping in.

Keigo repositioned the two of you, setting himself against the arm of the couch, wings up free to drape and splay over the floor. He dragged you with him, pulling you to lay on his chest. The stickiness of his spunk, your slick, and general sweatiness might’ve been uncomfortable, but you weren’t quite lucid enough to care.

“How are you feeling? Still feeling a little mouthy?” Keigo teased, already knowing your answer.

You muffled a groan against his chest, shaking your head against the sweat of his chest.

“Awww,” Keigo chuckled, fingers brushing over your cheeks, “Is my dove a little fucked out?”

“Keeeigo, b-be nice.”

Your voice broke, parched.

Keigo snorted, pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead, “I guess I can manage that. Just for you, though. Can’t let the others see me get all soft.”

You wouldn’t; seeing Keigo warm and gooey, both of you mutually fucked-out, was a pleasure only you got to indulge in. And you loved every moment of it.

++++++++++++

taglist: @sinclairsamess (msg me if you’d like to be on it!)

ko-fi

#salem writes #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo #hawks x y/n #hawks x you #takami keigo x y/n #takami keigo x you #mha smut #mha x reader #bnha x reader #hawks #hawks smut #hawks fanfiction #takami keigo smut

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smileyoongle · 3 years

Text

Falling for a lounge singer (Yandere!Mafia! BTS)// Kim Seokjin

Requested anonymously.

Summary: Working as a part time singer, you never thought you'd find yourself becoming the centre of attention of a man's life, especially one who you can't run from.

Word Count: 2K

You bowed before the audience at your workplace, an empty smile tugging at your lips as you finally walked down the stage and made your way to the bar. This was the third consecutive day in a week where your boss had made you work overtime without paying you for it. You knew that as a singer who performed in a small but reputable lounge bar, you weren’t worth that much. In fact, the reality was that you could be replaced at any given time, the city not having any less talented singers than you and that made you insecure about your job all the time. But either way, you were just stuck here, trying to push your way through every single day just to clear all your debts.

Life was unfair. It had always been.

Sitting down on a bar stool, you leaned across the counter and rested your elbows on it, the cold surface feeling good against the warmth of your skin. The speakers in the lounge were now playing the latest radio hits, the beats making your head hurt as you were handed a glass of water by the bartender who looked at you with a pitiful smile. Thanking him, you sipped on the water before your manager made his way to you and placed a champagne coloured envelope before you. Frowning in confusion, you gave him a questioning look which he returned with a nervous but angry expression.

“Someone left a tip for you,” he sneered, clearly not liking the fact that you had received money which wasn’t given by him. An asshole is what he was, his intentions of seeing you worried sick becoming more and more obvious with every passing night.

Pursing your lips, you unsealed the envelope only to find a lot of money, money that was probably worth your salary of six months. Your eyes widened in surprise, lips parting as you tried to make sense of why someone would tip you off with so much cash. You weren't even that good and you could never be that good.

“Who?” you asked, following your manager’s gaze to the exit where a bunch of men were making their way out. Almost immediately, you were on your feet with the envelope tightly clutched between your fingers. You needed to know who this man was that was so generous to you. Needed to know what about you was worth so much.

Holding your dress with one hand, you made your way towards the exit, eyes worriedly fixated on the doorway which was now empty. The bouncers nodded at you in acknowledgement while you forced a smile upon your lips and exited the bar, a part of you thinking that he must have left. But just as you came in contact with the cold night outside, your eyes took in the sight of an expensive car with a man dressed in an equally expensive suit surrounded by, you were guessing, his bodyguards. You couldn’t see his face yet, only his back being your line of sight but judging by everything, he certainly was someone in power. But if that was the case, what was he doing in a place so...average?

Deciding to end your curiosity, you called out to him, not knowing that this man was going to turn your life around completely. In a good way or bad? That was for you to choose.

“Excuse me, Si-”

Right then, your heel decided to give away, your ankle twisting painfully before you tripped...except you didn’t. Instead, you felt two hands taking a hold of your waist to steady you, your hands immediately latching onto their shoulder in return. And that’s when you finally saw him.

Kim Seokjin.

The man who was known to be running the biggest drug cartel around the country.

Your breath hitched as your eyes widened in recognition, a shiver running down your spine upon the realisation that he was here and he was holding you. Your fingers involuntarily tightened around his bicep, his eyes intently taking in your face as if you were his prey and he, your predator.

“Are you hurt, sweetheart?” he asked, snapping you out of your daze. Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, too afraid to even move because what could you even do? If you had known that Kim Seokjin was the one who had tipped you off, you would have probably just handed the money to your manager without confronting him. But here you were, stuck in a situation that you didn’t know how to get out of.

Your ears perked up at the sound of a car door opening, your eyes darting towards the black vehicle that now mocked at you with its open door. Jin swiftly picked you up without a word, a small yelp escaping your lips as you stared at him with fear and panic.

Were you being kidnapped?

Before you could think any further, you were placed onto a cool leather seat, your legs dangling to the side where the door proceeded to stay open. You watched Jin kneel down before you, his hands gently taking off your heel to inspect your ankle as a frown made its way to your forehead. The sudden act of kindness was making you very confused and you didn’t know what to do about it.

Maybe he just treated people nicely before he got rid of them?

A sudden pressure to your ankle had you whimpering and pulling your foot away, your teary eyes meeting Jin’s as he looked up at you with a soft gaze only to have his heart ache upon seeing you in so much distress.

In all honesty, this wasn’t the first time Jin was seeing you and the fact that he had tipped you a fortune was no coincidence either. He had walked into this bar for a deal about a month ago when he saw you, your voice being the first thing that captivated him. You looked absolutely stunning in a satin dress with your lips stained red, your smile taking his breath away even though it was just for show. Ever since that night, he just knew he had to see you and know you even if it meant coming to this place.

When you went to the rooftop to cry your heart out, he was right there in the shadows, wondering just what he could do to take your worries away. When you were being yelled at by your landlord, he was right there holding himself back from ruining that man's life. In short, every single time you thought you were alone, you weren't. Jin was always there, slowly figuring out where he was going to fit himself in your life. This tip that he had given you was guaranteed to solve your problems but along with that, it also made sure that you would want to see him. And that's all he really needed.

“You’re hurt, sweetheart. I don’t think you can walk-”

“Are you going to kill me?” Jin frowned upon hearing your question, feeling a little hurt that the girl he was so insane about, thought that he'd lay a hand on her, let alone kill her. But he had only himself to blame for having an image that was tainted with the blood of many, innocents and devils alike.

"Why would you think that, Y/N?" He asked, placing his hand on the empty space beside you. Your lips trembled as you struggled to answer, your eyes taking in the number of guards around you two. As if reading your mind, Jin quickly dismissed them, your shoulders slightly relaxing as you watched them walk away to where you couldn't see them. Feeling a little hopeful, you wiped away a tear that fell down your cheek and held your head up.

"I know who you are and what you do," you answered, biting your lip as you watched a wave of disappointment wash over him. Jin had been left speechless and he knew that, his jaw clenching and unclenching out of habit. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he sighed, his hand gently taking yours into his as you tensed in your seat.

"I need you to listen to me carefully, sweetheart," he stated, drawing your attention to him and him only.

"I have been watching you for a while now," he confessed with apology filled eyes looking right into yours, "and hurting you, is the last thing I want."

Those words had you feeling breathless, too many emotions bubbling up your throat and making you wanna throw up. You had been the subject of a very dangerous man for quite some time and you had no idea. On top of it all, he said he didn't want to hurt you and you found yourself believing him. Maybe it was the way his eyes held so much adoration for you or the way he held onto you like you were a fragile little doll, you didn't know.

"Wh-what do you want then?"

"To love you," he answered without any hesitation, his hand coming up to brush away your hair from your cheek. His touch was warm, almost comforting, something you hadn't had in a very long time. Having been so lonely all this time, the idea of being cared for and loved seemed too tempting to let go. And knowing just how powerful Kim Seokjin was, it was very obvious that no one would ever dream of hurting you, be it mentally or physically.

But, were you really willing to choose comfort over the fact that he was a murderer?

"M-Mr. Kim, you don't even know me. I'm a normal girl who has a simple life and being roped into yours is the last thing I need."

You stated, noticing the way his eyes held a hint of sadness that seemed to be barely there. Swallowing thickly, you stood up with a pained expression, quickly taking your heels in your hand as you glanced at Jin one last time. This was the right decision, in your mind. Because there was nothing worse than having to live with a man, knowing he was cold and brutal. It was almost as if you'd be his partner in crime, something you just couldn't digest.

Limping towards the bar, you sighed in relief as a sudden silence surrounded you. Jin hadn't said a word to your rejection, making you think that he had understood what you were trying to say. The chilly air felt comforting now, your breath coming to you in waves of warmth. But before you could open the door to the bar, you heard a light click behind you.

Frowning, you turned around, your eyes growing wide upon coming face to face with the muzzle of a gun. Seokjin stood holding it firmly, his eyes red and angry. Your lips began to quiver immediately, your ears taking in the sound of his guards gathering around you.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, did it sound like you had a choice?" He sneered, stepping forward and pressing the muzzle against your forehead. You slowly shook your head, a full stream of tears falling down your cheeks as you dropped your heels and joined your hands together.

"Please don't hurt me. I'm sorry I didn't-"

"Shh sweetheart, shh," he whispered, sliding the gun down your cheek and pressing it against your jaw. You could feel his arm holding your waist firmly, a scared whimper making its way out of your lips.

"You have no idea just how crazy you've been driving me, Y/N. Ever since I've seen you, I haven't stopped thinking about you," he mumbled, staring into your eyes so intensely that if not for the present situation, you would've deemed it romantic.

"Every second I've been thinking of things I'd like to do to you. And I can't have you take that away from me now, can I?" You closed your eyes, your body shaking as you sobbed at his words. The proximity was starting to suffocate you, your hands desperately trying to push Jin away from you but he was too strong.

"Let me go, Jin. Please let me go," you begged, your eyes drooping shut as you grew tired, your head falling against his chest. His hand came up to the back of your head, caressing your hair as he pulled you flush against him.

"Not any time soon, sweetheart," he replied, suddenly pulling back and gesturing the guards to the car. Large hands came to grip your arms, a scream sounding through the night as you were pushed inside the car you were seated in before. Your palms pressed against the leather, the door closing shut behind you as you sat up and banged your fists against the window. Spotting Jin outside, you cried louder, hoping he'd take pity on you. Instead he leaned down to where your palms rested on the window, placing his exactly against yours.

"I promise you'll be happy, sweetheart. I promise."

A/N: Guess who's back! That's right! Me! A dumb bitch! Anyway, I'm so sorry for not posting for like more than a year but for some reason, my brain went on a break and it just didn't wanna come back. So much has happened in the time I was away and I wanna give y'all so many deets like, boy trouble- check, best friend turning out to be a bitch trouble- check, getting two surgeries within a span of two months- check. In short, my life is a mess and I'm loving it.

Also, this turned out really long for like all the members, which is why I'm gonna post them separately. I hope I give you guys the same vibes from my writing as before. Or I'd die from shame. Okay I'm off now! Tell me if you liked it.

#bts imagines #bts jin #kim seokjin #bts yandere #yandere jin #yandere mafia bts #mafia leader Jin #bts reactions #smileyoongle #yandere!mafia!jin × reader #requested #i don't even remember the tags i used to use #kill me pls #mafia bts imagines #yandere bts imagines #yandere bts reaction #bts

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aereres · 3 years

Text

Professional - Jonathan Toews

Summary: You were expecting things to become calm after landing the position as Jonathan Toews' PA, as calm as your stressful job could be. Your relationship with your boss, though, makes your life become anything but calm.

A/N: It’s here! It’s out! Wanna thank my bestie @captaindaddies for helping me out with some stuff, ily bby ❤️

Word Count: 14,4k

Warnings: Lots of swearing, SMUT, maybe even a tip of angst, lots of nervousness and lots of teasing. Mentions of Patrick Kane, if it might bother.

Nervous, that was how you felt. Standing on the front steps of Jonathan Toews’ house was you, your bag nervously pulled close to your side as you mustered the courage to knock, to let him know you were finally ready to work as his personal assistant.

How you landed the job was still unknown to you: you were inexperienced, and everyone could tell by the way you were nervously standing in front of his front door. Still searching for the courage inside of you, you breathed out a sigh. You needed to get your shit together.

Jonathan Toews wasn’t intimidating. Right?

After breathing in a large amount of air and pushing it out of your lungs quickly, you let your knuckles hit the wood of his door, your heart hammering against your ribcage. You waited, for so long you almost thought you had missed him due to his early morning practice. When the door opened, though, you were met with a composed-looking hockey player.

You had seen him only through the screen of your laptop, but you could say that he looked way better in real life. Trying not to get too lost in his dark eyes, you greeted him softly, a nervous smile on your features.

“Y/N! Great to finally meet you in person!” He spoke, his voice deeper than you could remember as he looked at you, a professional smile on his lips. “Come in, I got a few minutes before I have to leave for practice,”

“Thank you, Mr. Toews,” was all you were able to mutter, getting rid of your coat and holding it in your arms as you looked around the rather large mansion. He gave you a small tour, and you found yourself mesmerized by everything he had shown you, from the high ceilings to the large windows that viewed Lincoln Park.

“I left a list of things to do on the kitchen counter,” he said when you found yourselves back in the main hall. “You’ll find everything you might need in that paper,”

“Okay, sir,” you smiled, finally at ease. Rummaging through your purse, you grabbed the stack of papers you had printed out for the occasion, carefully handing it to him. “You asked for my curriculum,”

“Right,” he nodded his head, scanning through the words quickly. “I’ll take a look at it after practice,”

You smiled his way, nodding your head before he could leave the room to grab his bag, leaving you on your own in the large hall. You hesitantly let yourself wander inside the kitchen, where the paper he had talked about was sitting neatly on the isle.

“I’m heading out,” he called from the hallway. “My number is on that paper, if you need help with anything,”

“Thank you, Mr. Toews,”

“Oh, and make yourself at home, Y/N,”

“What are you even reading, man?” Patrick sighed as he dropped his helmet on the bench, looking at an already-showered Jonathan slumped over a bunch of papers.

“My PA’s curriculum,” Jon mumbled, lower lip tugged between his lips.

The teammate snatched the papers from his hands, scanning through the words with a smirk on his face. “Originally from Canada, fresh out of college, worked for a company for a couple of months, ten years younger than you,” he nodded his head. “And she’s even hot,”

“It’s strictly professional,” Jon huffed, jokingly punching his friend’s shoulder as he turned around to grab some clothes, his eyes finding your picture attached to the files as he did so.

“Yeah, sure,” Patrick rolled his eyes as he took off his skates. Jonathan got dressed in silence, his mind wandering back to you and what you could have been doing at the mansion. He had received no call from you, no text, so he was guessing everything was coming along just fine back at his place.

“You aren’t even going to give it a thought?” Patrick asked after a while. “You’ve been single for ages, man,”

“She’s my employee,” Jonathan sighed, sending his teammate a dirty look. “I pay her to work for me, that’s all,”

“Whatever you say, Jon,”

“I’ll see you later, Kaner,” was all Jon said as he grabbed his duffle bag, propping it over his shoulder as he left the room, his mind elsewhere. Entering his Tesla, he took a deep breath and decided to go grab another coffee, something he didn’t do too often.

Patrick was exaggerated, Jon knew it already, but his teasing words impressed themselves into his mind. He wasn’t going to lie to himself, he had taken a liking to you from the first moment you had your call together for your interview. You were kind, a smile constantly on your face as you answered his questions, you were willing to do everything he asked you to do.

He shook his head when that phrase formed itself in his brain, taking a rather different turn from the professional relationship the two of you shared. Hell, he was shocked at his own self when he let his mind even go there just after your first time meeting in real life.

Turning off the car in the coffee shop’s parking lot after grabbing his usual order, he slid his phone out of his pocket. His brain was telling him not to do it, not to get too into your business, but he wasn’t thinking straight anymore.

He couldn’t even remember when the last time he had pressed on that contact’s name was, that was how much time had passed since he had last called that person. He didn’t hesitate, finally starting the call and pressing the device to his ear, his eyes focusing on the steering wheel.

“Mike? Hey, it’s Jon,” was all he said as soon as the old acquaintance picked up. “I need a background check on someone,”

-----

You had graduated at the top of the class, moved away from home for college, to Edmonton. You had an older brother, you weren’t big on sports when you were younger, you liked traveling. All the information was engraved in Jon’s mind.

You didn’t like being late, it was clear from the way you had apologized earlier that morning, Jonathan’s coffee in your hands as you mumbled sorrowful words. You overworked yourself, you weren’t one to leave work undone, and you didn’t like disappointing people.

From his spot in his living room, Jonathan analyzed you, his brows furrowed in concentration and arms folded over his chest. You were interesting, to say the least. There was something about you that had him extremely intoxicated.

Was it your sweet perfume? Was it your laugh? Or the way you spoke? He didn’t know. Less than two months. That was how long it took his thoughts to become anything but professional, that’s how long it took for him to become more than aquaintained with your presence.

Was it your inexperience? Only two boyfriends throughout high school and college, both lasted less than two months. Or was it your innocence?

You kept him awake at night, thinking about you the way a boss shouldn’t think about his employee. You had become a constant distraction at practice, during meetings, during moments he had less expected to even think about you.

He had never felt that weak for a woman ten years his junior, and he truly felt frustrated.

“Mr. Toews? Everything okay?”

Your sweet voice sent jolts through his body, snapping him out of his trance. Mr. Toews, the name kept making his cock strain against his pants, no matter how many times you called him that. “Yeah, I’m fine, Y/N,” he mumbled, voice deeper than usual as he stood up from the couch. He was at your side in just a few seconds, his eyes finding the screen of your laptop to see a schedule. “What are you doing?”

His arms caged you against the kitchen island as his chest slightly touched your back, his eyes still attached to your screen as your heartbeat quickened. “I uh- I’m organizing your schedule,” you stuttered, your body shivering from his closeness. “Player media tour is coming up soon,”

“Right,” he mumbled, a smirk painting itself on his lips as your breath got caught up in your throat when he squeezed your waist before leaving the room. You struggled to stay concentrated after he left, your mind going places it shouldn’t go as you cursed yourself for feeling that way about your boss.

Everything felt so wrong, from the way your heart hammered against your chest every time he stepped close to you, to the way you often found yourself in need of release from his teasing actions.

Working for Jonathan Toews had been unexpectedly hard, it was testing your boundaries. Holding yourself back, acting as if he wasn’t the only person you could think about, as if his name wasn’t the one you had found yourself screaming at night; it was becoming hard.

Two boring months had passed from the day you had started working for him, two boring months of taking care of his stuff and doing what you were told. Two boring months that took a turn and became two hard months when your attraction for your boss had started, two hard months that would soon become three, four, five…

Things needed to change, if you wanted to keep yourself away from any kind of heartbreak. You needed to change.

With a sigh, you unlocked your phone, letting your fingers do their work until a dating app was installed. You stared at its icon for what felt like ages, wondering whether it would be worth it or not, but eventually, you got yourself logged in.

And maybe, it was for the best.

-----

“Fuck-” you breathed out as you skimmed your way through the people crowding the streets of Chicago, some of them even wearing the Blackhawks jerseys. “I’m so late,”

You forgot to pick up his suit. His damn suit. You had been so concentrated on answering emails and getting things settled for him that the task had slipped out of your mind. The city was crowded, almost everyone seemed to be buzzed for the game, and you truly were late.

The familiar banner of the dry and clean was visible from where you were, and it took you less than a few minutes to actually reach their entrance, your breathing heavy. Your phone chimed in your hand, snapping your attention towards the message that you had received. Markus, one of the guys you had matched with on the dating app just a few weeks prior, was asking you out. If you wouldn’t have been as busy as you actually were, maybe you would have squealed in happiness, maybe you would have even called your cousin to let her know you were back in the dating scene. But you were late, your boss was waiting for you, and the text from Markus could be left on delivered for a little more.

Pushing your device inside the back pocket of your jeans, you stepped inside the warm environment of the workplace, picking up the clothing as quickly as you could before making your way back towards the mansion.

You were almost sweating when you finally closed the front door behind yourself, slipping off your coat and looking around the first story of the building for Jonathan, your mind thinking about the text from Markus. “Mr. Toews? I have the suit,”

“Upstairs!” Was all he yelled, lightly scaring you. You were hesitant to walk up the stairs. He hadn’t made it official, but it was pretty clear that he cared about his privacy, so you had taken it upon yourself to stay away from the sleeping area of the house.

You had visited that area twice: on your first day, when he had toured you around the mansion, and a week into your job, to hand him Advil after a pretty rough night at a club. Even then, you never walked past the threshold of his room, too scared to intrude.

Carefully, you started to make your way to the last floor of the house, dragging with you the suit and your nervousness. Shuffling sounds came from the end of the hallway, where the door was peeking open. The warm tones of the lights inside the master bedroom were slightly illuminating the hallway, inviting you to step closer.

“Mr. Toews?” You said, knocking lightly on the door. “I have your suit,”

He was quick to open the door completely, revealing his body to you. He had a white button-up on, his bottom being covered only by a pair of boxers. “Come in, I need your advice on something,”

Jonathan Toews was almost half-naked in front of you, showed no embarrassment from it, and you felt oh so turned on. But it was wrong, you weren’t supposed to feel that way, and that was when you made your decision. You were going on the date.

He walked towards the mirror, turning his back to you as you hesitantly stepped in. You laid the suit on his bed, keeping your eyes to the floor to avoid any kind of discomfort from his side.

“Help me choose my cufflinks?”

He was looking at you, motioning for you to go stand next to him with a small smile. When you obediently made your way towards him, he turned towards the mirror to sort out his tie. Your eyes met his quite big collection of cufflinks, everything looking so shiny and expensive. You weren’t shocked, it wasn’t a secret that you were working for a man with money, you were just surprised to see so much gold in front of your own eyes.

“I was going to go with these ones,” he mumbled, snapping you out of your thoughts and pointing towards the blue pair that was resting on the dresser. “But I’m not too sure. Choose a pair, please,”

With shaky hands, you let yourself pick the ones that had caught your attention from the start. They were golden, probably pure gold, resting cold in the palm of your hand as you inspected them. They stared back at you as the room fell silent, the only sounds coming from Jonathan, who was touching up the look of his tie.

“My grandfather’s,” you heard him say after a while, his deep voice bringing you back to reality. He was closer than you had thought, his warm palms gently holding your arms as he looked down at the pair you had chosen. “Good choice,”

Your cheeks burnt at his praise, your eyes looking up at his mirror reflection for a second. He had you flustered, and it was extremely unprofessional. Everything about your boss seemed to bring you to the edge: from the way he spoke, his voice deep and lustful, to the way his rough hands would randomly graze against yours, their touch so gentle.

“I’ll- I’ll be downstairs, I’ve got some stuff to finish,” you stuttered, biting on your lip as you started to make your way outside, stopping in your tracks when you remembered. “Oh, I had a question, sir,”

“Go on,”

“I was wondering if I could get off earlier, tomorrow night,”

“Anywhere special to be?” Jonathan asked, a smirk painting his lips as he completed the pre-game look.

“I have a date, sir,”

He tried to keep his expression as natural as possible, even though jealousy was truly burning him alive. He didn’t want to see you with someone else, someone who barely even knew you, or who barely even knew how to treat you.

He was pretty confident when it came to knowing you. Maybe the way he found out - thanks to Mike - wasn’t the best way to actually get to know you, but he knew what got you flustered, what had you weak. He knew how to make you feel that way.

How could a guy your age even know anything regarding your pleasure?

“Sir?”

“Yeah, it’s not a problem,” he mumbled - his voice fakely uninterested - ending the conversation as quickly as it started. That was your sign to leave the room, confused as to how you were supposed to feel. Happy because you were going to go on a date with Mark? Or sad because Jonathan seemed to not care at all, especially since you had thought he would, after all the teasing he had done on you?

His voice held you back one last time, making you turn around and catch his gaze in the mirror reflection. “Wish me luck?” Was all he said, making you remember just then that he had more important things to do to even care about your date.

“Good luck, Mr. Toews,”

Jon breathed out a long sigh as he let himself fall on one of Patrick’s couches, the glass of whiskey in his hand feeling cold against the warm skin of his palm. They had taken another loss, and that time, Jon was pretty confident when he said it was his fault.

He had tried to push you to the back of his mind, at least for one night, but it had been easier said than done. The jealousy he had felt just hours prior didn’t leave his body, and he wanted nothing more than to show you who you belonged to.

“Another fucking game, man,” Patrick scoffed, letting his body flop down next to him. “That shit gets me so pissed off,”

“Yeah, man,” was all Jonathan mumbled, putting the glass to his lip before taking a drink, the liquid burning his throat.

“How are things with your pretty girl?” Patrick changed the conversation, sending his friend a smirk as he sipped his own drink.

“What pretty girl?” Jon grumbled, looking at the whiskey in the glass with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Your PA, man,”

Jon fought the urge to roll his eyes, the look he sent his friend being enough to answer his question. “I told you, professional,”

“Come on, Jon,” Patrick chuckled. “You haven’t even given it a thought?”

Jonathan stayed silent for a few seconds, trying to gather his thoughts before actually giving his teammate an answer. Oh, he did give it a thought. Multiple times. “She’s going on a date tomorrow, that’s all you need to know,”

“And you’re jealous,”

“Am not,” Jon lied, scoffing as he downed the rest of his drink, pouring himself more.

“Then why are you telling me about this?” Patrick asked, knowing that no matter what, he was right. “Don’t act as if you haven’t been thinking about her, you’ve been weird ever since she started working for you,”

Jon clenched his jaw, his eyes directing towards the skyline of Chicago from Patrick’s windows. “Okay, yeah, maybe I am,” he admitted. “Guys her age will never be able to take care of her,”

“She obviously wanted a reaction from you, man,” Patrick rolled his eyes, so obvious in his point of view. “Why would she even tell you? You’re her boss, as you like to say,”

His thought made sense: why did you even tell him you were going on a date in the first place? “That girl got you fucked up, bud,” Patrick chuckled, shaking his head.

“Fuck, every time she calls me ‘sir’ and ‘Mr. Toews’-” Jon sighed out, rubbing his face with the palms of his hands. “I can’t resist her,”

“Then don’t,”

Sending his friend a dirty glare, he chugged another drink. “I’m serious, Toews. Just get the girl,”

“As if it’s that easy,” he mumbled under his breath, pushing his glass on the coffee table before standing up. “I’m outta here. Thanks, man, I’ll see you tomorrow,”

Heading out of the house, he wanted nothing more than to go home and get some rest. You crowded his mind even in his sleep, but he needed to get some rest and figure himself out.

He wasn’t able to resist you anymore, that he was sure of.

-----

You hadn’t been on many dates before, but it didn’t take much to understand that the one with Markus shouldn’t have even been considered a date. He had charmed you, brought you out to dinner just to get you in his bed, and even fussed when you had made it clear that you didn’t want to see him again.

You were frustrated, to say the least.

You had gotten just a few hours of sleep before having to head in for work, finding the mansion empty, no sign of Jonathan. No call from him was received, when you worked, he had shown no interest in you for the entire day.

Your cousin Laila also seemed to be missing in action: she hadn’t picked up your calls and ignored all your texts. You were pretty sure she had kept her phone off for the day.

The first sound inside the house was unexpected, it almost scared you. It was the front door closing, the sound of footsteps following soon after. You put on a smile, glancing up from your computer to see a tired-looking Jonathan entering the living area.

“Good evening, Mr. Toews,”

“Hi,” he mumbled, pushing himself towards the kitchen to grab a glass and an expensive bottle of wine.

“Can I help you with anything, sir?”

He had to hold himself back from sighing, shaking his head as he poured himself a glass. “Didn’t you have that date, last night?” Was all he asked after a while, twisting his wrist and watching the velvety liquid move around the glass.

“I did,” you sighed. “How was your day, sir?”

“I don’t want to talk about my day,” was all he said, voice stern as he sat next to you on the couch, more than curious to hear about the guy you had gone out with. “Tell me about the date,”

You held back a shocked look, letting your eyes find his for a second. “I-I don’t want to bother you, sir,”

“You’re not bothering me, sweetheart,” the pet name had you weak, your heart beating out of your chest as you struggled to breathe properly. “And please, call me Jon,”

The smile on his lips was enough to send shivers down your spine, a breathy sigh leaving your lips as you shut your laptop. The fact that Jonathan, your own boss, cared to even listen to you ranting about your date made him even hotter, from your point of view. He seemed to be the only one that wanted to hear about it, which spurred you on to actually talk to him about it.

“Well, he brought me out to dinner at this new Indian place, downtown,” you started, fidgeting with your fingers as you let your eyes stay on your lap. “He made us split the check-”

“Hang on-” he mumbled out, his hand finding your knee to stop you. “He split the check?!”

“Yeah,” was all you could whisper, gulping as you looked at his hand on your leg. With your last ounce of courage, you let your eyes focus on his.

“Tell me he at least paid for his shit,” he said, taking a sip of his drink as his hand slowly moved higher.

The shake of your head was enough to get him to groan. “He got the most expensive dish out of the menu and just split the check at the end,”

“That’s bullshit,” he scoffed, sending you a glance. “Hope you went home after that,”

You kept your mouth shut, your silence being enough to make him realize that you had done the opposite. “Y/N-”

Your name sounded so good, coming from his lips, it had you burning for him. Coming back to your senses, you kept explaining your side of the story. “Well, he mentioned going back to his place, and I needed to relieve some stress, Jon,”

“So you fucked,” he tried to keep his bitterness at bait by chugging down part of his wine. “You don’t look too relaxed, though,”

Everything seemed to spill out of you so quickly after that, especially under his gaze that left you more than submissive for him. “There was no foreplay,”

Jon rolled his eyes, hiding a cocky smirk when he realized he was more than correct, the night when you had revealed that you were going on the date: the guy didn’t know how to satisfy you.

“And, you know-” you mumbled, suddenly shy. “I wasn’t- I didn’t-”

“You didn’t cum,” he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief as his hand slid up even more on your thigh. “It was pretty obvious,”

You looked at him, your body on fire as you tried not to concentrate too much on how his hand felt on your leg, or how much you needed him. “You know, you look cute when you get shy,” he mumbled, smirking as his thumb drew shapes on the tender skin right before your inner thigh, teasing you just right. “You’re so innocent, you don’t even know what you do to me,”

Your head rolled against the back of the couch as you bit back a moan, his eyes holding yours strictly as he let his hand inch closer to your center. “Did he have you so riled up for him?”

You breathed out a sigh, relishing in his touch as his fingers ghosted over the spot you needed him the most. He stopped, though, snapping you out of your lust-induced trance by pulling you over his lap. You were breathing harshly, your hands on his muscled chest as your noses brushed against each other. “Answer my question,” he grumbled, his hands rough on your thighs. “Did he make you feel the way that I make you feel?”

“No,”

“Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll stop,” he said, voice firm as his eyes stared deep into yours.

You finally seemed to be back to your senses partially, realizing just then how wrong everything was. But it felt so good, you needed release and Jon seemed to be the one willing to help you with that. As if it wasn’t enough, all the teasing he had done on you seemed to resurface, and it made you more than eager to let him have you.

What was happening, suddenly, didn’t feel wrong anymore. “I want it,”

That was all it took for him to let his lips meet yours in a hungry kiss, your hands subconsciously moving towards his hair, gripping it gently. His mouth ate all your moans, giving him the opportunity to slide his tongue in, leaving you even more at his mercy.

The smell of his cologne had you in a frenzy, kissing him until you were short of breath just to have him press open-mouthed kisses on your neck while you pulled apart for air. His lips were back on yours before you knew it, playing you like the finest violin as the warmth in your chest spread lower.

When his hands found your waist, pulling you even closer and helping you grind on his growing bulge, your mind started working again. It reminded you it was wrong, that Jon was just your boss and your relationship had to be strictly professional. Caving in had already been a big mistake, not stopping would have surpassed every possible line.

You scrambled away from him, pushing yourself off of his lap in a rush, feeling extremely guilty. “Y/N, come back-”

You didn’t listen to his pleas, grabbing your coat before heading out the door, your heart beating out of your chest.

You had fucked up.

You had almost considered calling in sick just to avoid the sight of Jonathan for a little longer. The regret was intense, and you were sure you hadn’t felt anything like that before.

You were essential to his life, though, it was something you had to face. You couldn’t stay home and avoid him, or beat yourself up for what had happened the previous night for months. It had happened, it was unprofessional, but you had to get yourself out of bed and on with your life.

The mansion was silent, when you first entered it. You found your laptop on the couch, on the same spot where you were sitting the previous night, and some of your belongings on the kitchen table.

You left a go-to cup of Jon’s hot coffee on the island, opening your computer to take another look at your boss’ schedule. After morning practice, he had to be headed towards his favorite restaurant to have lunch with his brother, and then, he had a session with his personal trainer later in the afternoon.

Just as you were thinking about the fact that you needed to go pick up a present for his mother’s birthday, you heard two pairs of footsteps coming down the stairs. Jonathan was walking behind a blonde-haired woman, his hair messy as she sported a smile.

The sight of him with another woman had you regretting your previous night's reckless decisions even more. She was pretty, he seemed happy, and you felt dumb. Dumb to even have hoped for a small moment that it might have meant something to him, dumb because you were jealous of her, even though you had been the one to run away, after getting your moment with Jon.

His eyes found yours when he finally stepped foot inside the first floor. You held back a fresh set of tears as you looked back down at the computer screen, biting on your bottom lip as you tried to zone out.

“And that’s the door,” you heard him say quickly. “Y/N, I can-”

“Call me later?” The woman interrupted him, voice as sweet as honey as he opened the door for her, trying to get her out of the house as fast as possible.

“Sure. Bye,” the door was shut loudly behind her, the echo of his footsteps impressing itself into your mind as he made his way inside the kitchen.

“Y/N, I can explain,”

“You have lunch after practice with your brother,” you said, voice monotone as you avoided eye contact with him in every possible way. “Then a session with your personal trainer at five. Want me to schedule you a call with that woman, too?”

“Listen, Y/N, she was here because after last night-”

“Last night was totally unprofessional from both of our sides,” you stated, finally sending him a sharp look. “I’d prefer if the matter won’t be discussed anymore, Jonathan,”

“Y/N-”

“Practice is in five, I’d start leaving the house, if I was you,” you mumbled. “I’ll be out to get your mother her birthday present from you,”

“Fuck, her birthday, yes,” he muttered, grabbing his keys and coat as he settled for leaving the house, knowing just how much he had fucked up. “I thought we could have gone together?”

“Your schedule is pretty packed, but I could see,”

“Please?” He asked, voice soft for the first time. You bit your lip, trying to ignore the tears that were slowly swelling up as you nodded your head. He wanted to talk, it was obvious, and you just couldn’t say no to your boss.

“Thursday afternoon,”

“Thank you,” he sighed out, grabbing his cup of coffee before leaving the house, his mind elsewhere. “I’ll see you later,”

As soon as the door closed behind him, you let the tears fall. As much as you wanted to put up a tough facade, you had been broken, and you felt like your whole world had been dropped. You felt confused, heartbroken, jealous.

You pressed on Laila’s contact, sniffling when she picked up. “Y/N?”

“Oh, Laila,” you sobbed, even surprising yourself. “Why am I so stupid?”

She was confused, to say the least. You hadn’t called her in tears for what felt like ages; hell, work had gotten you so busy you hadn’t called her for months. Everything had come out of your mouth so quickly it had you shocked: you explained to her the teasing, the famous night, and just what had happened minutes prior, tears streaming down your face as if you’d never experienced heartbreak before.

The fact that you even felt heartbroken from your boss, Jonathan Toews, felt unreal. You had pushed your feelings for him aside for so long that you weren’t expecting to feel that hurt over something so small. You were shocking your own self.

“Why am I even crying over him, Lai?” You sniffled, wiping the leftover tears on your cheeks with the back of your hands.

“You clearly have feelings for him, Y/N,”

You closed your mouth shut at her words, shock evident in your voice as you stuttered. “But I barely even know him!”

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Silence came from Laila’s line, a long sigh could only be heard as the two of you stopped talking. “This might sound so cheesy, but listen to your heart, Y/N,”

You sniffled at her words, still unsure of everything going on in your life as your heart still felt quite broken even after venting to your cousin. You needed time to figure things out, time to think.

And time was what you gave yourself.

-----

“Hey, thanks for coming,” Jonathan greeted you softly, his eyes finding yours when you stopped in front of him. “I’m not the greatest at gifts,”

You giggled, shaking your head as you mindlessly let your hand grasp his forearm, sending shivers down his spine. “Of course, Jon,”

“I uh- I got the car out,” he pointed towards his Tesla, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “I know you prefer walking, but I exaggerated at the gym earlier and my legs are pretty sore,”

“It’s fine,” you reassured him, his softness making your heartbeat quicken. “Shall we go?”

As if you had snapped him out of his thoughts, he nodded his head, leading you towards the vehicle and opening the passenger door for you. The car was fancy, but you weren’t expecting anything else from him. He was Jonathan Toews, his wristwatch probably cost more than your old college tuition.

You small talked until you reached your destination, the large mall just out of town that hosted the most expensive stores, the ones you were so used to admiring from the distance. You slipped out of the car on your own, looking at the building with a small ounce of anxiousness as you waited for Jon to reach your side.

“You ready?”

You turned around to face him, nodding your head sharply as you tried not to get lost in his wide smile. “Thought you wanted to stay there and gaze at the mall for the rest of the afternoon,”

“No,” you giggled, starting to walk just when his hand slipped on your lower waist, nudging you. Your heart was fluttering, his touch so gentle against your skin as he helped you towards the door. Why did it feel so good when he touched you? You were supposed to hate him, to be disappointed in him; yet, you couldn’t pull away, keep a safe distance between the two of you. It was as if you were magnets, the attraction too much to actually let go.

Snapping out of your trance, you remembered just why you were there, with him, and what you needed to do. “Uh- have you been thinking about anything?”

“Jewelry,” was all he suggested, his hand dropping back to its place next to his waist when you walked inside the large main hall. “She doesn’t wear it too often, but she secretly loves it,”

“Okay,” you nodded your head. “Any store in mind?”

“There should be one just around the corner,” he mumbled, directing you around the quite empty mall with large strides. He was right, one of the largest jewelry you had ever seen was right in front of your eyes, the prettiest diamonds being exposed right next to rings and earrings.

“Woah,”

“I know,” was all Jonathan mumbled, dragging you along with him inside the store. You had an employee at your side the moment you walked in, her eyes barely even acknowledging you as she started blabbering about the shop and what they sold, entirely focused on your boss.

“We’re here for a gift, but I think we won’t have trouble looking on our own,” Jon politely said, sending the woman a small smile just as he pulled you close to his side by your waist, making you repress a gasp. The woman left soon after, giving you a once-over right before she went back to walking around the store in search of people to help.

You were struggling to breathe when he released your body, his eyes going to the jewels behind the displays as he kept you close. “I’m sorry about that. She was making me uncomfortable,”

“It’s okay,” was all you were able to mumble, following his gaze on a necklace. “Is she one for necklaces?”

“Not really,”

“Maybe earrings?”

“Yeah, she wears those often,” Jon nodded his head, searching for the displayer with the earrings. “I want something she could wear every day, though,”

“Something simple,” you hummed, your eyes raking around the various pairs of earrings. You came across a pair that looked like white gold in the shape of a flower, tempested with small, white diamonds.

You carefully pointed towards them, your fingers catching Jon’s attention. “Those look pretty,” he mumbled as he called over another shop assistant. “Could we get these out? I want to see them closer,”

The pair was in front of your eyes before you knew it, shining under the warm lights of the store. You had to refrain yourself from letting your eyes widen at the price tag, deciding to let them focus on Jonathan’s expression. “What do you think about them?”

“I think they might be too big to be casual,” was all he mumbled, glancing towards the displayer again to search for something else. “I was also thinking about a bracelet, you know?”

“I’ll go take a look at some of those for you,” you whispered, smiling his way before moving towards the other side of the store, where the bracelets were located. The diamonds and pearls were all staring back at you, begging to be bought as you talked lightly with the shopping assistant.

You didn’t even realize you had been stuck on one specific item until the lady helping you caught your attention. “That’s a Cartier,” she smiled your way. “Simple but classy, they’ve been selling pretty quickly,”

“It’s really beautiful,” you whispered, batting your lashes a few times to push yourself out of your daydream before focusing on the rest of the collections. You were pretty sure Jonathan would like the bracelet you picked out: a small, golden chain with a charm that represented family, also stutted with diamonds.

“Found anything interesting?”

You jumped when you heard Jon’s voice from behind you, his palm finding its place on your smaller back again as he stood by your side. “Thoughts on this one? The charm represents family,”

Jonathan was gentle as he lifted up the jewel, looking at it attentively before smiling your way. “I think we found the one,”

With a smile, you went to take a look at the earrings he had chosen, leaving Jonathan on his own in front of the bracelets. “We’re getting that one,” he mumbled to the shopping assistant, pointing towards the present for his mother. “Was she looking at anything else when she was alone?”

“The young woman?”

Jonathan nodded, hoping the employee could help him out in some ways. He had felt the urge to buy you something from the moment he first saw your eyes sparkle at the sight of the jewels. He knew it was wrong, but he felt like he might have needed it someday: maybe as an apology, or maybe as just a present.

“She was looking at this one,” the woman said, nonchalantly taking out of its displayer the Cartier rose gold bracelet you had been gazing at for minutes.

Just the best way to spoil his girl, he thought. “Add it to the rest, please. And don’t use a separate bag for it,”

“Of course, sir,” the woman smiled, leading him towards the checkout. “I’m sure she’ll love it,”

The two of you left the store soon after he swiped his credit card, heading towards the parking lot in silence. Your time together had come to an end, and you felt weird when the thought of missing him even crossed your mind. He had shown you softness, even regret, throughout the afternoon, and you realized you had gotten to know another part of him. The sensitive part, the part that was in some way asking you to give him another chance.

“I know I fucked up the other day,” Jonathan said when he started the car, the flashbacks of him walking the woman out rising back to life inside your brain. “And I know that you don’t want to talk about it anymore, but I owe you an apology,”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as he kept driving, the city running past your eyes. He was willing to admit his mistakes, but were you going to let him back into your heart?

“Okay,”

He seemed surprised when you answered, but snapped back to reality quickly. “Take a day off, tomorrow,” he said, his eyes finding yours quickly before directing them back to the streets.

“But you have the game, Jon,”

“I want you to come to the game, have some fun,” he said, words authoritative as he kept his eyes trained on the road, your panties dampening just at the tone of his voice. “And then go out for drinks with me after it,”

That was anything but professional, if you thought about it, but was your heart going to stop you? There was nothing holding you back anymore. You took a fast glance at his face, not realizing he had caught you until his eyes met with yours. “Y/N?”

“Okay,”

You suppressed a smile as he drove towards your apartment complex, playing with your fingers in your lap as you tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. Your usual Friday night was going to take a turn: you weren’t going to watch Jonathan play behind the screen of your TV anymore, and you weren’t going to daydream about him before falling asleep.

Friday night was going to be different, and you knew it.

-----

Friday was calm. The sun was warm on your skin as you read a book on your couch, thankful for a morning off and some time to figure your life out. It had taken you a while to realize just how much you had been ignoring your own mental health, how you really felt, and your day off seemed to be just the perfect way to understand yourself better.

It felt confusing, if you had to be honest. Your heart was more than ready to give itself entirely to Jonathan: to give him your all, to wake up in the morning next to him, to make memories together. Your brain, though, made you feel like it was wrong, almost dirty.

You wanted the two of them to find a solution to all their divergences, to make it easier for you. You couldn’t bear the confusion anymore, staying away from Jon was already hard enough.

Laila’s words replayed themselves in your mind while you took a shower, rinsing the shampoo from your hair. What if you really had feelings for him, though? The way your heartbeat quickened every time he said your name was almost enough to answer your question; the butterflies dancing in your stomach every time you’d feel his touch were so evident you almost laughed at yourself for not realizing it sooner.

The sexual tension, at the same time, was something you clearly couldn’t ignore. You were so sure that it was what it had made you attracted to him in the first place, the warm feeling deep in your stomach, or just the way you were burning for him.

By the time evening rolled around, you felt nervous. You were worried you were dressed correctly for the game, but totally underdressed for drinks; you were worried you were going to make a fool out of yourself, as always, or that you were going to embarrass him.

The doorbell was enough to snap you out of your trance, making you grab your coat and purse in a rush before leaving the apartment building, only to be faced with a black car and a man in a suit. A driver?

“Good evening, Miss Y/L/N,” was all the man said, opening the door for the backseat for you in a quick second. “Mr. Toews wasn’t able to drive you, so I’m here to pick you up,”

“Thank you,” you said, holding back the last remnants of shock in you as you slid inside the car. The lights of the city moved past you as you were driven towards the arena in silence, the city looking busy as red and white jerseys packed the sidewalks.

You felt like you were in a movie. Never in your life had you thought you would have been in the backseat of an expensive car, a driver sent by your boss chaperoning you towards the destination.

“Miss, this is your ticket,”

The car had stopped, and you had realized just then that you had reached the arena, your heart starting to leap out of your chest. “Could I stay here a little more?” You asked, voice small as you hoped for a ‘yes’, suddenly overwhelmed with what was going to happen throughout the night.

“Of course, miss,” the man smiled, almost as if he wanted to reassure you everything was going to be okay, like a guardian angel.

Jonathan wanted to apologize to you, that was what was going to happen, nothing more. What were you even worrying about? Pushing all your worries aside, you grabbed your ticket and thanked the driver, following the mass of people towards the entrance of the arena.

You heard multiple excited conversations about the game, both from Blackhawks fans and from Sabres fans. You felt slightly out of place in the crowd of people dressed in red, already holding beers in their hands as they talked, even chanted their team’s name.

You found out just after getting inside the building that you were reserved a spot with the team’s close family members, a lot calmer than the spots near the rink itself. When you walked inside the room, you were met with who you could only guess were some of the player’s parents, but a group of younger women was by far taking over the room.

They were all sporting the team’s jersey, the players’ last names on their backs never repeating on the other girls’ shirts. You silently took a seat, noticing you had the best view of the rink, from the highest spot of the building.

“Newbie?”

Your head snapped to the side to meet with a girl slightly older than you, a smile on her face as she sat next to you. “What?” You asked, slightly confused at her word.

“I’ve never seen you around here before,” she explained. “I’m Amanda, Kane’s girlfriend,”

“Oh, I’m- I’m Y/N, I work for Toews,”

“Oh, so you are new here,” she giggled, shaking your hand softly. “I’ve heard about you,”

“You did?” You asked, holding back a giggle.

“I’ve heard Jon talk about you many times,” Amanda confessed, your heart fluttering at what she said. Jonathan talked about you? “You know, other girlfriends and I are just sticking together for the game. Do you want to join us?”

The offer was given to you quickly, you weren’t even able to process the fact that Jonathan’s friends knew about you, in some kind of way. You were a total stranger to them, and yet, they knew you, they wanted you to join them. “That would be awesome,” you smiled her way. “Thank you,”

When she went back to the group, you glanced down at your phone, sending Jonathan a quick text before, eventually, joining your new companions.

Good luck, Jon :)

“Honestly, I’m so happy they won,” Amanda mumbled, looking over the few people in the hallway right before the changing room to see if the team was going to come out soon. “They really deserved it,”

A few noises of agreement came from the rest of the WAGs, the girls you had joined just a few hours prior. “What are your plans tonight, ladies?”

Most of the girls talked about going home, relaxing with their significant other, and enjoying the night; one of the wives mumbled about leaving for a small trip right after being done at the rink, and somebody else talked about going to a club. When you were asked, your cheeks heated up.

“We’re going out for drinks,” you mumbled, nervously playing with your fingers as most of the girls smiled your way.

“And you’re just working for him? Girl, don’t lie to us,” Becca, another girl, pushed your shoulder jokingly.

“What are you ladies mumbling about?” Patrick walked towards your group, wrapping an arm around Amanda’s waist as she giggled. His eyes found yours in a second, scanning your face as a smirk planted itself on his lips. “You’re Y/N, right? Nice to meet you,”

“Hi,” you smiled, your attention quickly snapping towards someone else when a familiar hand settled itself on your smaller back.

“Hey,” Jon said, propping his bag up his shoulder as he looked down at you. “Good evening, ladies,”

The girls barely even answered, too busy with greeting their husbands and boyfriends and congratulating them to actually acknowledge the captain. “Did you have fun?” He asked, his thumb drawing small circles on your back, your stomach filling with butterflies all over again.

“Of course I did,” you smiled.

“You busy tonight, Jon?” Patrick asked, snapping the two of you out of your trance. “Drinks at mine?”

“We’re going out,” Jonathan stated, looking at his teammate with a smile. “Next time, I promise,”

You still couldn’t contain the giddy feeling whenever he referred to the two of you as ‘we’, it was something that had always made you so smitten.

“It’s fine, man. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Patrick winked, leaving you just enough time to say goodbye to Amanda before the two were off on their own.

“Shall we go?” Jon asked, his eyes focused on yours as the hallway cleared out around you. With a nod of your head, the two of you were headed off towards his car, reaching in just a few minutes a fancy bar.

The lights inside were dim, and it wasn’t the usual kind of bar filled with bodies and loud music. There were tables, just a few of them occupied by people enjoying their drinks in silence as soft jazz music set the vibe. It was cozy, in some kind of way, even if the place was extremely out of your reach.

A table was reserved for you near one of the ample windows facing a rainy Chicago, the warmth inside the room making you breathe out a sigh of relief. “I like this place,” you said, looking around the room with a smile on your face.

“I’ve been coming here for years, now,” Jon admitted, taking a seat in front of you. “I don’t like normal bars too much, they’re too messy,”

“This place represents you, in some way,” you mumbled, your eyes finding his.

“I guess it does,” was all he mumbled before ordering your drinks, voice firm as he talked to the waitress. You were sure he couldn’t see the way she was looking at him, heart-eyed as she scribbled down the drinks as best as she could, it was almost funny.

When she left you to yourselves, silence built between you. You were more than nervous, to say the least, and he seemed to be in his thoughts, in his own world. He clearly was snapped out of his trance when your drinks were slipped in front of you.

“Y/N, I just wanted to apologize for everything,” he spoke, looking at the liquid inside his glass quickly before letting his eyes meet yours. “I never thought things would go like that, I even tried to hold myself back, but I didn’t make it,”

“It’s okay, Jon,” you whispered, playing with the rim of your glass as you tried to find some words to say. “I have to apologize too, what I did was anything but professional,”

“Y/N, it’s not your fault,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you. “If it wasn’t for me, things would have been normal, now,”

You stared at him for a moment, his dark eyes holding yours as you tried to not mutter out what you had been thinking about for ages, your body shaking in anticipation as you played with your fingers.

“I don’t want them to be normal, though,” you whispered with your last ounce of courage, shocking your own self as you bit on your lip. He looked at you in silence, making it hard for you to understand what he was feeling. “I wish you knew how I feel whenever you touch me, or when you say my name, Jon,”

There was a beat before he spoke, his voice firm after taking a sip of his drink. “Tell me what you want, Y/N,”

“I want you to make me yours, even if it’s just for one night,” you breathed out, holding eye contact as you said your next words. “Even if it might not work,”

He adjusted himself on his chair, biting on his bottom lip as his pupils dilated, giving you a once over. “Don’t play with fire, sweetheart,”

“Am not,” your voice was coated with lust as his hand traveled up your thigh with anything but hesitance. “You can take me home if you want me, Captain,”

He held your eyes for another moment, downing his whiskey before standing up, dropping a bill on the table. “Stand up,” was all he said, voice dark as he looked down at you. You fell into your submissive character as soon as his voice became authoritative, automatically jumping to your feet and following him out of the bar, the cold rain falling on your face.

The drive was silent, filled with tension as Jonathan went over the speed limit, the streets empty. His hand was on your thigh, too close to your center to even make you think straight. Everything was going too fast, but you didn’t care anymore.

Were the few sips of alcohol making you intoxicated, or was it Jon? Was it the strong scent of his cologne, the touch of his hand on your skin, his dark eyes?

His grip on your thigh tightened when he parked the car inside his garage, his eyes meeting yours for a long moment before he finally leaned in, over the console, and kissed you.

His lips were softer than you could remember, but there wasn’t anything soft about the way he was kissing you, grabbing you to pull you over his lap. You were eager to see where things were going to head, curious to explore more of him, and he was feeling the same way.

As his tongue caressed yours, his hands found their way towards your ass, pushing your center even closer to his growing bulge. You bit his bottom lip to suppress a moan, your hands dropping to his chest to undo his already messy tie.

He pulled away to breathe in some air, his lips ghosting over the skin of your neck as he grazed your throat with his teeth, shivers running down your spine. “Jon-”

“Say my name, sweetheart,” he said, voice dark as he threw his undone tie in the backseat. His hand dipped inside your jeans, tracing over your panties as he kept eye contact. “Tell the world who makes you feel good,”

“Jon-” you moaned again, head thrown back as he grasped your neck to pull you closer again, letting his lips find yours for another heated kiss, his hips bucking up to meet yours.

“Let’s head inside, baby,” was all he grumbled against your lips, hands on your thighs as he opened the car door. You whined, not wanting the moment to end, which made his voice darken even more. “Don’t be a brat. I’m not fucking you in my car on our first time. I’m better than that,”

You had to hold back a moan as he carefully exited the car, holding your body in his arms as he expertly walked towards the elevator, his mouth on yours. You were so lost in him you barely even registered your back hitting his comforter a few minutes later, his body hovering over yours as he wrapped your legs around his waist.

“You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to have you like this,” he grumbled in your ear, breathing heavily as he pushed your shirt over your head, your bra following along. “Under me, at my mercy,”

His words, followed by his lips on your breasts, made the coil inside your stomach tighten. He felt so close, so real. You realized you weren’t on your own, in your room late at night, taking care of all the pent-up tension anymore. Jonathan Toews - the man who had been the center of your world for months, the man who had kept you up at night ever since he had first laid eyes on you - was on top of you, finally giving life to every fantasy of yours, and probably also of his.

His touch wasn’t as soft as it used to be anymore, his hands roughly moving from your sides to the button of your jeans, opening it in a rush as his lips found your skin again. His fingers ghosted over your heat, making you moan out a curse.

“Jon, don’t stop,” you breathed out, his lips kissing their way down to your navel. He was faced with your heat in a second, his hands pushing your underwear down your legs. You had to suppress a whine when the cold air of his room hit your heated core, your walls contracting around nothing as he let the pad of his index finger trace your slit.

“Look at you,” he whispered, licking his lips as he watched you quiver under his mere touch. “So drenched for me,”

He placed kisses on your inner thighs, teasing you just right as you whimpered under his touch, your fingers grasping his hair just when he finally let his mouth find your center. He was eager to learn what ticked you off, what made you feel good, what you needed to come off the edge. He had wanted to know for so long.

Jonathan sucked your clit in his mouth, the strangled moan that left your lips being enough to make his pants tighten even more. His tongue slid down to your entrance, his strong arms holding your waist down when you tried to follow his movements, to get some relief.

“Don’t make me tie you down, sweetheart,” was all he said, voice deep as his eyes bore deep into yours, sending you into a state of submission. When he dipped down again, he kept eye contact, his humming against your heat almost bringing you over the edge.

His tongue was making you feel stars, touching places you didn’t even know could make you feel so weak. He knew what he was doing, and he took pride in it. By the time one of his fingers slid inside of you, you were a moaning mess, everything inside your body screaming at you to let go.

Jon was attentive, keeping his eyes on you to see just how good he was making you feel, just how easily he could work you over the edge. But, just as you were about to give in and let the orgasm take over you, he stopped his movements, his lips kissing their way up your body again.

“Want to take it slow,” he whispered in your ear teasingly, biting your lobe and letting you know you weren’t going to leave the bed anytime soon. His mouth was on yours again, your taste on his lips making you moan.

Your hands were quick at undoing the buttons of his white, neatly ironed, shirt; your fingers didn’t hesitate when they touched the newfound skin of his chest, so warm and soft it made you melt.

His pants were off in a second, thrown in a corner of the room as his lips stayed on yours. You didn’t think you’d be able to separate after the night, after finally giving in and letting yourselves get close.

You were eagerly palming his cock over his boxers, ready to push yourself to your knees and give him what he had been thinking about for months. His hand gripped your wrists tightly just when you were about to push his undergarments down his thighs, your eyes snapping up to his when he shook his head. “Tonight’s about you, sweet girl,” he whispered, letting his free hand card through your already messy hair before giving it a firm tug. “On your hands and knees,”

His authoritative voice had always made you oh so desperate for him, and that time, it wasn’t any different. You were positioned in the middle of the bed as quickly as you could, your ass up in the air as he explored your body with his eyes.

“So pretty for me,” he muttered, discarding his boxers before making his way towards you. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer to him as he leaned down to kiss your spine. “Beg for it, baby girl,”

“Please, Jon-” you whined, burying your face in his pillows, completely at his mercy. “Please, fuck me,”

The chuckle that left his body was enough to make you clench around air again, the shameless moan that exited your mouth getting muffled by the soft material of his pillows. “So desperate,” he unexpectedly slid his length inside of you, the stretch making chills run down your spine as a string of curses left his lips.

“Fuck- so tight for me, sweetheart,” he breathed out, his hips stuttering for a quick second before he started to thrust into you, the sound of his hips smacking against your ass harshly filling the room.

His thrusts were quick, his skin slapping against yours rhythmically as you moaned loudly. One of his hands gripped your hair, pulling your head away from his pillows, the sting of his pulling sending pleasure to your clit.

“I want to hear every single moan,” he grumbled in your ear, his punishing pace sending you into subspace as your high neared again, your legs struggling to keep the rest of your body up. He could feel your walls constricting around him, making his own pleasure even more evident as he tried to keep his cool.

Your moans became louder again when you started to tip over the edge, but you were denied your orgasm again when Jon pulled his cock out of you, gently handling you around.

You found yourself on your back, legs spread for him as he tapped his cock against your overstimulated entrance, a smirk on his face as he entered you again. “Want you to look at me when I make you cum, sweetheart,”

His words had you whimpering, your eyes closing as he moved inside of you, the new angle making you feel even better. His hand slipped down your body, reaching your clit and teasing it as he kept his bruising pace.

“Jon- Jon I’m going to cum,” you breathed out, your legs wrapping around his middle as they slightly shook, holding him closer to you.

“Look at me,” he said, his fingers on your clit speeding up. “I said, look at me, Y/N,”

You let your eyes meet his as your orgasm made your body shake, a shout of his name leaving your mouth as your walls convulsed around his cock. You were breathing harshly as he helped you ride your high, his hips snapping quickly against yours as he held back groans.

He pulled out quickly, coming all over your stomach with a loud groan as you tried to gain back your breathing, your eyes struggling to stay open. The room sat in silence as he left the bed, only to come back a few minutes later to clean you up.

He took care of the cum on your stomach, gently cleaning it with a wet towel before going back to his position between your thighs. “You did so good for me, tonight,” he whispered, hushing your whines when the towel touched your sensitive skin. “Such a good girl,”

“I probably should go,” you mumbled sleepily, trying to push yourself out of his bed only to be interrupted by his voice.

“Stay the night, Y/N. Please,”

“Jon-”

“Please,” he repeated, taking a seat next to your laying body on his bed. His eyes were scanning your face for any kind of discomfort as he let his hand card through your hair, the moment of softness making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

As you looked up at him, you found yourself realizing just where you were, just where you were laying. Your eyes really met his bedroom for the first time at that moment, noticing every single small piece of him that was resting inside the place that he found most personal, the place he barely let people in.

He was sharing it with you, the part of him that most people barely even knew.

He slid with you under the covers, pulling your body close to his as his eyes found yours. He pushed a strand of stray hair away from your face, his other hand drawing shapes on your smaller back.

“What are we doing, Jon?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” he whispered, his hand cupping your cheek as he sighed out. Silence settled between you as you tried to figure out what was happening between the two of you, if your relationship had changed, but his voice filled the room again. “You know, I was in need of release after you ran away, that night,” he mumbled, his fingers toying with the ends of your curls. “There wasn’t a moment where I wasn’t thinking about you, when I was with that girl. It was a mistake-”

“Jon, please, stop it,” you whispered, looking up at him with a small smile. “I accept your apology,”

Your words seemed to put him at peace, at least for the night, and he pulled you even closer. “Get some rest, we’ll talk in the morning,” he whispered, tenderly kissing the top of your head as you cuddled on his side. Your body was tired, but your heart was beating quickly against your ribcage at how your night had ended.

Not only did you have the best sex of your life with the man you had been wishing for ever since day one, but you also found yourself cuddling by his side, his warm body pressed against yours. The question that left your lips was slurred by sleep, but you needed to know, you needed to know if it wasn’t going to end just so soon.

“Will you be there when I wake up?”

There was a beat after you said your words, his hand carding your hair one more time as he smiled.

“Of course I will,”

“Good morning,”

The whispered greeting had you slowly waking up, the warmth of Jon’s body close to yours making you breathe out a sigh of fondness. “Hey,”

“How did you sleep?” the man beside you asked, voice still sleepy as he played with your bed hair. You had to repress a giggle at his question, hiding your face in his chest as you mumbled out your answer.

“Like a baby,”

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around you as the other held his phone, his eyes focused on the screen. “Plans for the day?”

“You have to meet up with your coach this afternoon,” you said, your fingers drawing shapes on his naked chest. “What time is it?”

“Nine,”

“Jon, you’re late to practice,” you scolded him with a sigh, rolling your eyes when he shrugged.

“Everybody needs a day off,” he said, making a chuckle leave your mouth. “I’ll go grab us breakfast, don’t fall back asleep without me,”

A peck was placed on your lips as Jon left the bed, your body missing his warmth after just a few seconds of being apart. You looked at the ceiling as you took in the events of the previous night, well-accustomed to the butterflies in your stomach.

You had to refrain yourself from clenching your legs at the flashbacks from the late-night activities, instead biting on your bottom lip as you remembered just how good it felt to be touched by Jonathan.

His hands on your skin, his mouth on your body, his eyes locked with yours.

You weren’t ready to leave him, though. You weren’t ready to forget about the night the two of you had spent together, to name it ‘just a one-night stand’. You wanted to wake up every morning next to him, to scold him when he was late, to spend endless nights talking about your lives after some good sex, and to be his. That was what you wanted.

You settled on getting ready as best as you could, taking a quick shower and throwing on his discarded button-up from the previous night, his cologne invading your nostrils as soon as the expensive material slid over your skin.

You heard the front door shutting after you had just made yourself comfortable in the kitchen, your laptop opened in front of your eyes as Jonathan put the coffees on the table. “Got bagels. Is it okay?”

“More than okay,” you smiled, your eyes meeting his as you took a sip from your cup. “I hope me taking a quick shower wasn’t a problem,”

“Not at all,” he smiled, seemingly noticing your outfit just then, as he leaned against the kitchen counter while he took a bite of his food. His eyes roamed your figure for a long while, your cheeks becoming quite heated as you kept your gaze on your computer screen. “You look good in my clothes,”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t find my clothes from last night,” you whispered, biting on your lip as you avoided his eye contact.

“That shirt looks better on you anyway,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around your waist as he peeked at your laptop. “What do you have to do, today?”

“Just picking up some clothes at the dry and clean,” you mumbled, taking a bite out of your bagel. “Oh, I also need to pick up some packages,”

“I’ll come with you,” he mumbled, letting his hands squeeze your waist quickly before going back to stand against the kitchen counter. Your heart was beating against your ribcage as you tried to act unbothered, one of your hands running through your hair.

“You have other stuff to do, Jon,” you sighed, turning around to face him.

“Don’t care,” he smirked, his thumb and index finger grabbing your chin to make you look up at him. His lips ghosted over yours teasingly as you struggled to breathe, the warmth in your stomach invading your entire body. “The world can wait a little more,”

-----

Huffing as you walked around the halls of the United Center, you were trying to hold all your stress under control. It was a stressful day for Jon and you, probably the most stressful day the two of you had ever had, and things had been going okay.

Well, they had been going okay until Jonathan was nowhere to be seen after morning practice, your busy schedule being put on hold as you scanned through every room inside the building anxiously.

He had a meeting, a very important one, in fact. Coaches, PR teams and the most important people of the Blackhawks were all finding themselves in one room to discuss important business, and the captain just couldn’t be late.

His coach had mumbled something about him being extremely distracted during the previous weeks, his head going elsewhere whenever it was possible, and it didn’t take a while for you to realize it was because of you.

It had been a few weeks ever since the night, and you were confused, to say the least. You felt as if you had gone back in time, when all the two of you could share was teasing touches, deep eye contact, and sexual tension. Why were you two playing hard to get?

The large doors of the dressing room snapped you out of your thoughts, your heart hammering against your chest as you wondered whether it was a good idea or not to actually search for him inside. It probably was an invasion of privacy, right?

You almost squealed in fear when the doors opened, revealing one of Jon’s teammates, a beaten-up look on his face as his eyes met yours. “Can I help you?”

“I, uh- is Jonathan in there?” You asked nervously, sighing in relief when the younger guy nodded his head absentmindedly. “Thank you,”

He muttered something under his breath as he walked away, leaving you to open the doors to the changing room in silence. You were faced with emptiness, just the faint sounds of shuffling entering your ears as you looked around the room.

“Jonathan?”

“Ah, just who I wanted to see,”

His face sported a smirk when he walked towards the main hall of the room, dressed in only one of his extremely tight thermal shirts and a pair of boxers. He was hot, and he knew it; hell, he even took pride in it, you were sure.

“Missed you, sweetheart,” he mumbled, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you close to his body. You seemed to snap back to your thoughts - too busy admiring his Adonis-like body - just then, looking up at him with a stern look.

“Jonathan, you’ve got a meeting to attend,” you said, pushing against his chest to get him away from you. “And you’re so fucking late for it,”

“You’re hot when you’re pissed off,” he mumbled, dipping his head to your shoulder to press a line of kisses over your blouse, his fingers playing with the hem of your skirt. “Everyone was looking at your ass, sweetheart. Did you know that?”

You closed your eyes as his kisses trailed up your neck, reaching your sweet spot in just a few seconds. You felt in heaven, so deeply pushed into a lust-filled trance by just his mouth as you forgot what was happening outside, what you needed to do. “Had to kick all their asses to get their eyes off of you,”

His possessiveness was sending jolts to your core, his touch so teasing yet so pleasurable as he pressed another coat of kisses down your neck. His hands slid to your ass as he let his body drop down on one of the benches, your legs straddling his waist.

“Jonathan, the meeting starts in ten minutes and you don’t even have a suit on,” you scolded him as best as you could, his fingers undoing the first few buttons of your shirt.

“Just enough time to fuck you,” he whispered against your lips, his mouth on yours a second later as his hands were already pushing your underwear to the side to tease your drenched center. “So wet for me this early in the morning, baby girl?”

You let out a shaky moan as his thumb played with your clit, the pleasure too strong to pull yourself away from him. “We’ve got to be quick, Jon,” Your hands dropped to his bulge, pushing his boxers out of the way as he aligned his cock with your entrance, ignoring your sentence.

“So needy for me,” he muttered, his cock sliding against your walls smoothly as you moaned out his name, your hands tightly gripping his shoulders. To say you were a little surprised to have sex with him for the second time inside the United Center’s dressing room was an understatement, but everything felt just too good to make it end.

“Here we go, sweetheart,” he whispered, nipping on your earlobe as his hands helped you rock your hips against his, a sharp moan leaving your lips at the stretch. A few groans left his mouth when you picked up the pace, one of his hands dropping to your clit as he relished in the pleasure.

“Jon-” you moaned, your head lulling back as he kissed your neck, his teeth leaving a love bite on your skin. He knew it was something he shouldn’t have done, that marking was for kids, but he wanted the world to know you were his, even if he didn’t have the balls to make you his.

He seemed to be pushed in a trance as you speeded up even more, trying to chase your high and bring him to his as quickly as possible, time clicking. “I’m gonna cum,” you whispered, hiding your face in the crook of his neck as the pleasure became too much.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he spoke, voice sweet as he let his lips find yours again. “Milk my cock, baby,”

Your eyes locked with his as you came, mouth opened in a silent moan as your cunt clenched around his length, bringing him unbelievably close to his orgasm. You kept moving on top of him as best as you could, your sensitive pussy making you whine.

“I gotta cum, sweetheart,” he groaned in your ear, subtly telling you he needed to pull out. Your cheeks, as heated as they already were, seemed to burn even more as you whispered your next words, hiding your face from him.

“I’m on the pill,”

“Fuck- shit-” he muttered under his breath, the thought of being able to cum inside of you sending him over the edge, his abs clenching as he released against your walls. You caught your breaths together, his forehead leaning against yours after he pecked your lips gently.

Your eyes dropped to your watch, noticing you had just a few minutes before the start of the meeting, another curse leaving your lips. “Jon, you better get yourself ready,” you said, pulling yourself away from his body to fix yourself up.

You were hoping it wasn’t too evident that you had just fucked with your boss inside the dressing rooms as you made your way towards the doors, ready to leave.

“Y/N?”

You turned around to face Jonathan, who was messily trying to put on the tailored suit you loved on him. “What?”

There was a beat of silence as he pulled on his slacks, sending you a quick look. “The team is hosting this gala, next weekend,” he mumbled, cheeks rosy as he avoided your eye contact. “I was wondering if you wanted to come along?”

“Are you asking me out, Jon?” You giggled, biting on your bottom lip.

“I’m trying to,” he huffed. “You obviously don’t have to, if you-”

“Yes,”

“What?”

“Yes, I’ll be your date,” you giggled, tugging him close to you by the collar of his shirt to kiss him, your body relaxing against his. When you pulled back, a smile was resting on his lips, your heart beating out of your chest. “Now, get ready. There’s a meeting we have to be at,”

-----

You were so fucked.

The Cartier bracelet was on your wrist, shining under the lights of your apartment as you touched up your makeup, stomach churning nervously. You had come home to a couple of boxes on your bed, well-known names printed on top of them, and you were shocked, to say the least.

The material of your dress - a classy, black cocktail dress - was soft against your skin, and you were trying to refrain yourself from looking it up and check the price tag. The bracelet had been your breaking point, your eyes tearing up at the sight of the rose gold accessory you had found yourself admiring more than a month prior.

It felt strange to get spoiled by someone, you were going to be honest.

You heard the faint knock just as you were slipping on a dark pair of stilettos, your lips pulling into a smile as you opened the door, your eyes falling onto your date. He seemed speechless as he gave your body a once-over, his eyes softening at your smile.

“You look stunning, sweetheart,” he said, voice gentle as he tried to tear his eyes off of you. His hand slipped into yours, pushing it up to his lips to leave a lingering kiss on your skin, his eyes finding just later the bracelet he had given you.

“Thank you, Jon,” you whispered, cheeks heating up at his comment. He was looking better than ever in his all-black suit, matching your outfit perfectly, and it was hard for you to keep the butterflies in your stomach at bait.

“We should head out, I know you hate being late,” Jon mumbled, his eyes still not leaving you as you locked the front door behind yourself, his body close to yours. He led you out of the building with a gentle arm around your waist, nothing but warmth filling your chest as he helped you inside the car.

You were in silence as the driver moved the car around the city, directed towards the venue, Jon’s hand staying firmly on your thigh. You had so much on your mind, so much keeping you in your thoughts, and Jon seemed to notice.

“What’s happening in that pretty head of yours, darling?” He whispered, the palm on your thigh moving to grasp your hand.

“You- you bought me all this stuff and-”

“This is my way of saying thank you,” he whispered, smiling your way as the car came to a halt. “I actually bought the Cartier when we were shopping for my mom’s presents,”

Your eyebrows scrunched as you chuckled, giving him a shocked look as he helped you out of the vehicle. “Really?”

“Yeah,”

“You never told me if your mother liked the gifts,” you whispered as the two of you walked inside the venue, your arms linked together as people smiled your way.

“She did,” he stated, greeting one of his teammates with a nod of his head. “She loved the bracelet more than I thought she would,”

You smiled proudly, waving excitedly towards Amanda when her eyes caught yours. “God, Y/N, you look so beautiful tonight!” She squealed, pulling you in a hug as Patrick and Jon talked, her hands gentle on your skin as she took a good look at you.

You thanked her shyly, leaning against Jon’s side as your attention was pushed towards the center of the room, where they were announcing the start of the gala. You were introduced to various people throughout the night - shaking hands, hugging wives and girlfriends, even waving to some little kids - and you felt quite tired when you found yourself in the middle of a makeshift dance floor, your arms wrapped around Jonathan’s neck.

He seemed to be in his thoughts, his touch warm on your skin as the two of you messily swayed to the music, your eyes closing. “What are you thinking about, Jon?”

“It’s complicated, sweetheart,” he whispered, sighing when your head found its place on his shoulder.

“Tell me about it, I’m willing to listen,”

He chuckled, his thumb drawing shapes on your back as he tried to find the words, the courage, to tell you he was in love with you. He hadn’t felt like that in ages, so whipped for someone, so willing to give them the world, if they asked. It felt scary, he had never fallen in love that quickly for anyone before, but something in him told him you weren’t a mistake. You were the one.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he mumbled, pressing a small kiss to your shoulder. “And I truly can’t get you out of my mind, in any way I try. You’re my constant thought, no matter where I am or who I am with.

“I wake up every morning, and the first person I see is you. When I come home, you’re there to ask about my day, always smiling,” your body stopped swaying as you listened to his words, the world surrounding you stopping as you focused on the moment. “You’re who I want to see every moment of the day, you’re who I want to wake up next to, and who I want to gift flowers to on Valentine’s day.

“You’re who I want to vent to, and who I want to spend lazy afternoons with. I’ve made mistakes, Y/N, and you’ve always been there to help me through it, to accept my apologies,”

“Jon-” tears were coating your eyes as you realized where he was heading, your heart fluttering.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his hands cupping your cheeks as his eyes stared deeply into yours, softness in his voice. “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you, and it’s scary,”

“I love you, too, Jonathan,” you whispered, your forehead resting against his as you bit your lip. “So much,”

He didn’t seem to care that you were in the middle of a room filled with people, his eyes were gentle as he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a kiss you had never experienced before, so full of passion and love.

He pulled you closer to his body as he kissed you again, his gentle hand keeping your face close to his by the jaw as he showed you all his love in just one kiss. When you pulled apart, you didn’t care about the people staring at you and him, or the hushed whispers that they were sharing. You just leaned your forehead against his again, catching your breaths in silence as a giggle erupted from your mouth.

“Be mine, baby,” he whispered, smiling down at you. “My one and only,”

“I’m yours, Jon,”

Taglist: @thirstyybitch @bellaguarneri @boqvistsbabe @trashforbarzal @captaindaddies @keithseabrook27

#jonathan toews #jonathan toews x reader #nhl #nhl x reader #chicago blackhawks #hockey imagine #jonathan toews imagine

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universalistotalis · 3 years

Text

The Fifth Date

Bokuto Koutarou (Timeskip!!!) x Female Reader

credits to the owner of the picture :)

3k words

kinda long but it's worth it i guess

Masterlist!!!

You can’t believe this. You just can’t!

“Hey, are you alright?” Bokuto Koutarou looked at you with utmost sincerity in his eyes. You looked up and wondered if he really was worried or just being polite but either way, you stared right at his pupils.

“I am.” You agreed, letting go of his gaze and wanting to end the conversation.

This was your fifth date with him but there were no sparks since the first. You just didn’t feel his vibes and he could be so noisy at times which you hated. There was selfishness underneath his skin and it reeked in your nostrils. You hated egotistic people and you weren’t going to tolerate this much longer.

What your friends saw in Bokuto, you had no idea! They were all swooning over him when they set you up on a date together. They kept saying that he was perfect so you, being the hopeless romantic that you are, expected a prince who would be a gentleman, who would listen to you talk for hours on end, who would be so loving and caring… But instead, you were presented with boastfulness and chaos all wrapped up into one big muscle of a man! He did look like a prince but that was it!

“You know you can tell me right? I’ll listen.” You didn’t mistake the softness in his voice as he continued to stare at you lovingly.

You didn’t know if it was the beautiful place that he brought you to or if it was his kindness that made your brain turn into mush. But for the first time in five dates, your heart was hammering, its beats already like drums in your ears.

“I-I’m fine.” You stuttered and kept your eyes on the horizon.

You heard him sigh beside you on the railing you were both leaning on. The place you both drove to was divine as it overlooked the city. The twinkling lights below were mimicking the stars above and there were lanterns that hung overhead as well, casting the whole place in a lazy glow. You took a deep breath of the fresh air as you calmed yourself from the most stressful day of your life and from your whirlwind of a date.

A little rustling was heard and before you knew it, you were enveloped in warmth and his scent. Bokuto wrapped his jacket around you, letting you face him, so that he could pull the zipper up to your chest.

“There, so you won’t have to worry.” He smiled sweetly.

So he did notice the large coffee stain on your shirt and not once did he show that he was irked by it. You tried your best to cover it but of course you can't. Everyone at work gave you the side glance or the 'what-the-fuck-happened-to-you' look but he didn’t!

This can’t be happening. Were you reminiscing all those moments with Koutarou? AND NOW YOU’RE CALLING HIM KOUTAROU?!

You rolled around on your bed, a pillow tucked underneath your arms. A muffled scream was released as you felt an intense tingling sensation all over your body. You were supposed to end that fifth date! You were supposed to tell him that you both should see other people!

But the way he acted that night… it was as if he’s… perfect.

“Don’t hide from me.” He whispered in your ear as you cried in his arms. As his scent and warmth put your senses to overdrive with the jacket, you couldn’t help but sob. It was like the world was against you today. Even the document from work that you were so ready to pass, crashed on you. Even the coffee that you made this morning with care, splashed your white collared shirt. Even your ID lace that seemed so insignificant, decided to get caught on the doorknob and almost snapped your neck in two! And to spice things up, your evil boss humiliated you in the inter-department presentation even when the CEO of the company congratulated you on a job well done!

It was the little depressing and annoying moments that accumulated in your chest.

“Today has been s-so hard.” You cried in his shirt. “I keep on trying my best but it’s like I’m not doing enough. I'm not enough.”

The gentle rocking of your body stopped as he heard the words fall out of your mouth.

“Hey, don’t say that.” He cooed and trying to hold you at arm’s length. “You’re more than enough.”

You shook your head and tried to avoid his eyes again as he searched for yours. Fingers gripped on your chin to steady you and you melt for the nth time tonight.

“Don’t be too harsh on yourself. Alright? This day may have been difficult for you and maybe there are more days that would be the same but you shouldn’t doubt your efforts. The fact that you made it through, that’s already something to be grateful about.” He said while wiping your tears away. “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t cry about them once in a while. Let yourself feel but then get back up again, yeah?”

You nodded but you felt another round of sobs escape your mouth. He pouted as he saw your wounded state and again, you were held close to his broad chest, away from the hurt, the pain, the stress…

This was dangerous. Are you actually falling for him? You’re actually falling for the loud guy that you swore you hated?!

‘Hey, hey, hey!’

His voice reverberated inside your skull and with that sound came the print of his smile on your brain. He had the nicest set of teeth and the nicest golden eyes you’ve ever seen. His skin was flawless too and under any light, you swore he was shining.

You couldn’t help but grin at the—

Yes…

This is bad. Really bad.

“You wanna dance?” He offered his hand out to you, smiling shyly. You were surprised at his somehow timid expression as you were so used to him being his confident self.

“I don’t know how.” You said breathlessly as you stared at his gorgeous face.

He let out a chuckle and reached out for your hand under the table. “Let’s figure it out, c’mon.”

The platform was small and there were four couples slowly dancing to the romantic song that was being played by a live band.

He led your hands to encircle his neck while his rested on your waist. All the motions, even the slightest graze of his skin on yours, were making your mind hazy. Everything seemed to blur and the only thing that made sense were the two of you in each other’s embrace.

“You’re so tall.” You whispered mindlessly which made him chuckle. He noticed that you could barely wrap your arms around his neck and that your arms were getting floppy due to fatigue. He then guided you to hug him around his waist instead so he could pull you closer.

“I’ve never danced like this before.” He confessed, swaying stiffly at the music.

“I can tell.” You giggle and look up at him in time to see him pout.

He poked your side, deliberately tickling you for a while. “That’s mean.”

“But it’s my first time too. And I kinda like it.” You said shyly, feeling your cheeks warm even with the cold night air.

“You think you could get used to it?” He asked, hope laced in his question.

“Of course.” You smiled up at him.

He smiled back and his eyes twinkled as he stared. He scooped your right hand and brought it to his lips for a quiet kiss then slowly intertwined your fingers with his, all while maintaining eye contact.

“AHHHHHHHHH!” You screamed into your pillow again as your head played that scene.

Sleep was so far away now that your adrenaline was so high because of him! You swore you could still feel his lips on your skin. It was as if he imprinted it there and nothing on earth can take that away now.

“Bokuto, stop haunting me! Let me sleep!”

“Now, listen here, missy.” The owner of the restaurant pointed to you sternly as she stood behind the counter. “Tell this boyfriend of yours to stop going here and actually get some much deserved rest! Athletes shouldn’t be tiring themselves!”

You chuckled at her actions and stole a glance at Bokuto who’s pouting excessively at the older woman with his hair seemingly deflating at her ministrations.

“But I like your food!” He whined.

The woman clicked her tongue, as if annoyed. “You can have better food from where you live. Now, stop pestering me!”

“I will come back here more often if you say that!” He smirked and leaned on the counter.

“As if! I know you’ll come back no matter what happens.” She rolls her eyes then turned to you. “We can’t get rid of him even if we wanted to!”

They kept bickering back and forth as you waited for the fruit shakes and other snacks that Bokuto ordered for takeout. It was a long drive back home and he said didn’t want you to get thirsty or hungry. You just listened to their banters and even though they were dissing each other out, you can’t miss the loving and motherly look the owner had for Bokuto.

“You’re a regular here?” You asked him as you settled on the carseat.

“I’m a fan of the view. And as you saw, I’m quite close with the owners and the workers. This is my safe space.” He replied and started the engine.

“When was the last time you went here?” You inquired, suddenly curious of his whereabouts.

“Yesterday.” He shrugged. “And the day before that. And maybe the whole of last week.”

Your eyes widened at his answer. “This is like two or three hours away! How?!”

“I needed some place to relax. And think.” He smiled sadly as maneuvered the car to begin the journey back home.

“Are you alright?” You blinked at your question. His voice seemed low and so sad in contrast to his usual loud and noisy screeches that you were so damn used to. This Bokuto in front of you was so hard to read!

He turned to you for a split second before averting his eyes on the road. “I am. I guess.”

“Don’t hide from me.” You bit your lip hard as you repeated his words to you. You wanted to know him more, to understand his feelings, and to make him feel better.

“Hey, you can’t use my lines against me.” He laughed lightly as he looked at you. Your eyes were begging him to tell you how he is and who was he to resist? “I’m just nervous about the incoming games, that’s all.”

“You still get nervous?” You turned to him, a little surprised.

“Why are you so shocked? Of course, I do! Some less nerve- wrecking than the others but I do always get tension at every game.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair while thinking. “But the upcoming match is a qualifying game for the Olympics so everyone is anxious.”

“Who are you against with?” You asked.

“See, now that’s another one of my worries. The competitors have still not been announced so we have to wait for a month. A whole month! What am I supposed to do?!” He said exasperatedly. “And just last week, one of our teammates got injured so they gave us time off. You know, to rest and shit. But I am restless and—"

“So that’s why you come all the way here?” You concluded.

“Yeah.” He breathed. “The drive gets my mind off of the anxiety and their food just makes me feel like I’m home.”

‘So he is human after all.’ You said to yourself. It was the simplest realization but it did so many wonders for your feelings and understanding towards him.

The drive home was filled with stories of sadness and laughter. You both sipped at your drinks and munched at the chips he bought. And as you both neared your home, it dawned on you that this was the best date you’ve ever had in your life! Bokuto’s so laid back and chill, kind and generous. He listened so intently and patiently to all your life stories and he had a good memory too, remembering the things you’ve told him about yourself in the past dates.

You sighed while sitting up. There’s no question that you were falling in deep for this guy. During the drive, he became his noisy self, acting all the spikes he did at the games comically but instead of being annoyed, you had tears in your eyes because you had laughed so much at his acting. You loved listening to him talk and you realized he wasn’t selfish at all!

Go figure.

Maybe you just mistook his confidence for selfishness and egocentricity.

You can’t believe that you were itching to lengthen the time you had with him. The car was now parked in front of where you lived and it was time to say goodbye.

Your eyes met and there was a tinge of sadness in his eyes which surprised you.

“Look.” He turned to the passenger seat and leaned closer. “I know that I’m not the best date there is and you may have been agreeing to these just because of obligation from your friends but… I’d like you to know that I—“

Closing his eyes, he exhaled. “I really like you.”

As the words were uttered, your body visibly tenses under his gaze.

Panic rises in his gut as he realized what he did. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“N-no!” You tried to swallow. “You didn’t scare me.”

“Then why do you look like you’ve seen ghost?” He chuckled lightly not giving up his stares.

Your shoulders slumped as you sighed. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

He nodded, still looking. “I guess this will be our last, huh?”

“What?”

“I know you don’t like me and you hate my company. I just really like you so I tried to drag it out for so long.” He said sheepishly as he deflated back into his seat. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable and I’m so sorry if I did.”

This was not how you imagined ending your date. You were supposed to be the one saying that this will be the last. You were supposed to be excited about not seeing him again. You were supposed to go now! But the universe really did pull a reverse card on you today.

“Bokuto…” You started, feeling the guilt consume you to the bones. “I’m sorry if I made you feel that I didn’t like you.”

He was fiddling with his fingers now.

“It's just that your first impressions lasted so bad that it blinded me to who you really were.” Be honest. Just be fuckin’ honest! “I did think I didn’t like you but after tonight, you proved me wrong.”

His face looked at you in a flash, eyes finding the meaning behind your words.

“I didn’t know you could be like this!” You gestured to him, a little frustrated because your heart was pounding so bad and it became so difficult to breathe.

“Like what?” A smirk was beginning to form at his lips.

“This!” You laughed. “You’re fun to be with. You’re calm and reliable when needed. And just… yeah.” You’re just perfect.

You stared at each other’s eyes for a while longer, trying to read and drown in each other.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to give it another try?” You asked, hoping to god he’ll say yes to your request.

His eyes widened for a moment and his gray hair perked up a little bit.

“I told you I like you.” He smiled. “Why would I say no to that?”

Your phone beeped beside you. And if you weren’t so red enough from the memory, you knew that you were flaming red now.

It was a text from Bokuto.

Can’t sleep :(

You sighed at what he said. His anxiety about the game catches onto him so much that he often gets insomnia. The poor baby. You were about to reply when another text popped out.

I may or may not be outside your home.

“What?!” You panicked while swiftly looking for a hoodie to put on. Why is he here and why were you feeling excited at the thought of seeing him?

You asleep, little owl?

You bolted towards the doors and true enough, he was there, leaning on his car and dazzling in all his six feet and three inches glory. He looked unreal in this light even in his simple hoodie and joggers.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” His husky voice greeted you as you walked closer.

“No. Can’t sleep too.” You smiled. “What brings you here?”

He shrugged. He didn’t know what came over him when he closed your distance and hugged you tight. To him, you looked like an angel sent to earth only for his eyes to see! You were in an oversized hoodie, hair a little tousled, and your face was so calm under the moonlight. Something inside him prickled at the thought of being domestic with you.

Slowly your arms wrapped around his waist and you surrendered your weight to him. In that moment, he felt like he would burst! Never did he expect for this to happen, for you to give him a chance, but here you were. He deeply breathed in your scent and planted a kiss on the top of your head.

“Do you want to hang out tomorrow?” Your voice was a mere whisper when you looked up at him.

“Like a date?” He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

“Yeah?” You nodded.

He wondered if you had any idea about how you're making him feel crazier by the minute. If you don’t, then that’s much worse. “What am I gonna do with you?” He chuckled, arranging stray locks of your hair.

“You can go on a date with me.” You laughed and he was sure, so sure, that you felt his heart do a cartwheel when you were resting your head on his chest.

“I’d like that.” He replied hugging you tighter.

It was funny to you that you planned that fifth date to be the last. It turned out to be the first. The first real date where you felt like a princess in a fairytale. It was the first out of a never- ending series of romantic dates because Bokuto Koutarou had no plans of letting you go. Ever.

Okay, wait, hear me out. Have you seen that scene where Bokuto and Akaashi were just outside the hotel and they were just talking all calm and casual? MA'AM THAT'S WHERE I DIED SEEING BOKUTO AHHHH HE'S JUST SO PRECIOUS AND I DO BELIEVE HE CAN BE SERIOUS AND MATURE IF GIVEN THE CHANCE. I AM SIMPING HARD HELP

Masterlist!!!

Reblogs, replies are appreciated! <3

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beelsnack · 3 years

Note

I know this happens to plenty of people. You work in fast food or retail and your just trying to make a living. Whether your saving to get out of a crappy household ASAP, no matter the job, paying for college, or any other reason and you WILL have shitty jerk customers (At my first job and first day, I was asked if I spoke English because I couldn’t understand him with the mask and there’s a glass in front of the food. Buddy, shush. Didn’t help that I’m sensitive, ended up crying the moment I got home. These jobs are ones where you learn to really respect these workers cause of the crap they go through when you have it as a job)

In this request, the boys visit MC in the human world when they have the chance. So, my request is how would the brothers and Diavolo (the limit was 8 right?) react to coming to the human world one night to visit MC and they see them just crying and just frustrated in general due to shitty asshole customers from work?

I feel it's necessary to let you know that I actually started working on this request while on my break at my retail job.

I'm sorry you had to deal with that, friend. Pour one out for the retail workers out here busting ass during a global pandemic.

Thanks for being patient with me, friend, I know I don't really have a consistent upload schedule.

-----

Lucifer: In hindsight. he could have planned this out better.

Perhaps his own pride was to blame. He had planned to surprise the human by showing up unannounced after their shift, but he had gotten so caught up in the thought of them jumping into his arms out of sheer joy that he never considered that it might not be a good time.

"Hush now, my dear," Lucifer sat down next to where they had slumped against the wall of their living room. The carpet was slightly stained and part of him wanted to recoil, but there were more important things to worry about. "Those wretches aren't worth your tears."

He brought his arm around their shoulders, tugging them against his side and letting his cloak drape over them like a blanket. They snuggled into him almost instinctively, and he couldn't help but preen a little bit.

"I know," they hiccupped, burying their face in the crook on his neck. "It's just...sometimes it's hard not to focus on it, y'know?"

Lucifer didn't, but that didn't mean he lacked sympathy. The demon placed two gloved fingers beneath their chin and tilted their head upwards.

"Then how about you focus on me instead?"

Mammon: Turns out every Realm had its Karens. Who knew?

When Mammon had first popped into the human's place and seen them face-down on the kitchen table sobbing, his initial reaction had been violence. He wanted to find whoever made his human cry and wring the reason why out of their throat. But, after the initial bloodlust subsided, he realized that he had something way more important to worry about.

He sat down on the chair next to them, taking one of their hands and gently running his thumb over the bumps of their knuckles as they choked out what had happened. Mammon had worked his fair share of part time jobs, he was no stranger to the specific torture that was retail. So hearing that his human had to go through that made his heart break a tiny bit.

Not that he would show it, of course.

"A'ight, human, the Great Mammon is here to help." he grinned, standing up. "I know just what you need."

He strode over to their kitchen like he lived there, flung open the fridge and pulled out a bottle of alcohol.

"Mammon," the human rubbed at the dried tear tracks on their cheeks. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but...how did you know where I keep my liquor?"

"Minor details, human!"

Leviathan: His first instinct was to panic.

The human was flopped face first onto their couch when Levi showed up, and his specialty had always been jumping to conclusions. He almost took himself out on their coffee table in his haste to make sure they were breathing.

And then the human almost took him out because the logical reaction to someone suddenly bursting into your home and getting right up in your face was to a) scream and b) punch.

After the comedy of errors skit was over, the two of them were sitting upright on the couch. The human looked exhausted, both emotionally and physically, as they filled him in on their day from Hell.

(Except not because their actual days in Hell were a lot better than working retail, but that was beside the point.)

"...so not only did I have to interact with people, which is already more than enough, I got screamed at because this old lady didn't like the price of something! Yes, Helen, I personally made the prices higher just to piss you off, you've figured out my master plan!"

"Ew, no, do not want." Levi winced in sympathy. "My personal remedy is playing beat-em-ups."

"Your solution to everything is video games, Levi."

"Shh, no thoughts, only Smash Brothers."

Satan: He had so many questions.

What happened? How long had the human been sitting there stewing in their own misery? Where was he going to hide the body?

Satan was a pro at suppressing rage. So even though he wanted to go rip out the vocal chords of every soccer mom with a let-me-speak-to-the-manager haircut within a five mile radius, he reigned it in enough to settle himself down on the couch next to the distraught human and rub soothing circles on their back while they tried to tell him what happened through their sobs.

"Next time, summon me and I'll kill them for you."

"I don't think corporate would appreciate me summoning a demon in the middle of a department store."

"I don't appreciate corporate telling you that you have to stand there and be verbally abused by a wrinkly old hag who couldn't figure out what the word 'expires' meant." he huffed. The human let themselves flop heavily against his side, and when he looked down at them he noticed that the corner of their mouth had twitched up in the barest hint of a smile.

"She was, like, thirty, Satan."

"She was a wrinkly old hag in spirit."

Asmodeus: "Oh, darling, what happened?"

Usually Asmo preferred to be on his knees for a different reason, but the human was refusing to look up, so kneeling in front of them was his only option to be able to see their face. He reached up to cup their cheeks, wiping away a few tears with his thumbs. "Shh, it's alright, I'm here, darling. Tell me what happened."

They sniffled, a few fresh tears spilling over when they blinked. "I-I'm sorry, Asmo, I - "

"No need to apologize, darling." he moved some of their hair behind their ear. "Just let it all out. Bottling up all of those negative emotions will make you break out."

After a few more minutes, they finally calmed down enough to recount the torture that had been their retail shift.

"Ugh, honestly," Asmo shook his head. "Hearing those kind of stories just makes you wonder. How do people get so entitled like that?"

He stood from his kneeling position, reaching down to hold their hands. "I refuse to let any of those awful people contaminate your beauty, darling. You," he let go of one of their hands to boop them affectionately on the nose. "Need a spa night."

"A spa night?"

"Mm-hm!" Asmo hummed, already on his way to the bathroom. "You let Nurse Asmo was all of those icky feelings away."

Beelzebub: They hadn't even made it fully into the living room.

When Beel stepped through the portal into the human's apartment and saw them curled into a ball near the doorway, he was immediately on high alert and checking for danger. Only after he realized that he didn't smell blood and had made sure to inspect all of the places for danger to hide did he lower his hackles.

The human was watching him through watery eyes, and Beel realized belatedly that he hadn't even greeted them. Well, bit too late for that. He crossed the living room in a few long strides and crouched down in front of them, lifting their hair out of the way to check for injuries.

Satisfied that there was no immediate danger, he scooped them up into his arms and deposited them on the couch. "Do you want to talk about it?"

They shrugged, wiping furiously at their eyes. "Just...people at work were being jerks, is all. I'm probably just being a big baby about it."

"No you aren't," Beel sat down next to them. "You're allowed to be upset if people are being hurtful."

That only brought on a fresh wave of tears, and Beel felt a little guilty. He pulled them closer until they were practically in his lap and tucked them underneath his chin like he could physically shield them from all of the awful things in the Three Realms.

"I'll make us some dinner. Everything's worse when you're hungry."

Bephegor: They started nap time without him.

Well, that's what it looked like when Belphie first popped through the portal. But, upon closer inspection, he noticed that the lump under the blankets that was the human was definitely not sleeping. Their breathing was quick and staccato, interrupted here and there by low, hiccupping whines.

They were crying.

Well that wouldn't do. Crying yourself to sleep just gave you a headache.

"Hey," he peeled back the protective layer of blanket to look at the human. Eyes red-rimmed and puffy, with a little wet spot on the pillow where their tears had landed. They sniffled, trying to shrink back into their blanket burrito, but Belphie held first. "Let me in."

He wiggled his way into the cocoon until they two of them were snuggled together, with their head against his collarbone. "Wanna tell me what happened?"

"Humans suck."

"Didn't we solve this issue already?" Belphie snickered when they pushed weakly against his chest. "Why in particular do humans suck?"

With a shuddering sigh, they recounted the events of the day. How they had been screamed at by customers, then scolded by their boss when said customers complained, then treated like actual garbage by their coworkers when the boss took their anger out on their employees.

"...Yeah, humans suck." Belphie tugged them in a little closer, burying his face in their hair. "But you've got your favorite demonic nap buddy here, so you don't have to worry about humans, okay?"

Diavolo: He felt powerless.

It was not a feeling Diavolo experienced often as the Crown Prince of the Devildom, and the few times he did experience it, he didn't like it.

If they had been in the Devildom, he would simply order whoever had made the human upset to be tortured for a decade or two - well, actually, he would have them brutally killed, revived, and then killed again, but the human was a merciful soul and likely wouldn't let him. But this was the Human Realm, where the only influence he had was the intimidation factor of his height and size. So all he could do was hold the human as they sobbed against his chest.

"This isn't fair to you," he mumbled into their hair as they sat on the couch. "You should be in the Devildom, treated like the noble you are. You shouldn't have to deal with these ingrates who think they're better because you're on the clock at that particular moment."

They whimpered softly as Diavolo murmured sweet things to them. Even if it was merely a fantasy, it was nice to think of a world where they wouldn't have to put up with all of the bullshit of retail.

Maybe one day they would take Diavolo up on his offer.

#shall we date obey me #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo

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danniburgh · 3 years

Text

Rushingly Bittersweet, (Javier Peña x f!reader) part 1.

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc//f!reader with name.

Summary: After the fall of Escobar everything starts happening way too fast for Javier; his raise, his new office, his new team, the Cali cartel's operation, the sudden arrival of a new agent that was transferred to his team for no apparent reason, the way he was falling in love with her almost unintentionally.

And he couldn't seem to stop any of that.

Word count: +2.1k

Series warnings: talks and mentions of misogyny and sexism, cursing, smoking, drinking, eventual sex, cartel shit, watch me make some shit up to fit reader inside the narrative, guns, dea shit, feels, javier actually being a little bit more introspective, just basically me inserting reader into the third season

Chapter warnings: depictions of misogyny and some cursing

A/N: This chapter is set in season three, episode one. // this has been simmering in the back of my head for way too long, i even made a post about it just trying to ease the weight of my thoughts but my mind keeps racing with more things about this exact story, so here goes nothing. THIS GOES ALONG THE CANON OF THE THIRD SEASON kinda (so yeah, spoilers if you haven’t watched it yet), i actually had to watch it to write this because in the end, you’re a fucking DEA agent baby (also please keep in mind that english is not my native language, im really trying for this to be GOOD)

Read on ao3 // fic index // Masterlist // fic playlist

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓 let me know if you wanna be tagged

// next→

You knew you chose a difficult job, hell, a difficult career, you knew you had to prove yourself, your worth and your abilities countless times, at this point it wasn’t even that much of a surprise anymore. Every time you encountered another man in the office or in the field, you had to spend an incredible amount of time first proving you were capable and you knew what you were doing before even getting to work.

Yet you got comfortable in your previous destination, you had a team, you had people to trust and trusted you back, they knew you were more than capable, you didn’t have to tell them to listen to you or your ideas, you didn’t have to ask for anyone’s approval. You were just another agent.

But now you had to do it all over again.

“Shit” you growled, trying to unwrinkle your blazer with one hand, the flight down to Colombia hadn’t been at all gentle to you and you were tired and cold. Your feet were sore, your back was killing you, you were fighting the desire to get rid of your suit skirt and run to put some pants on, everybody was lying when they said Colombia was a hot place, the air was chilly, and the dress suit you were wearing barely provided any meaningful heat, and the fact that nobody went to pick you up at the airport made you even more frustrated. You were still pulling around your suitcase because apparently the embassy is such a fucking mess that not even one person told you where you were going to live yet.

You showed your badge to the guards at the doors and they let you in without much of a look. You walked right through the lobby into the elevator, sighing in relief. Thanks America and its air conditioned buildings.

The elevator doors opened and you walked straight inside of the DEA offices, they were small, cramped and dark, great, just how you liked your work spaces.

“Hi” you said, approaching the small front desk, the receptionist looked up at you and smiled, it was the first smile you saw in a while and that made you feel a little less frustrated, you pulled out the badge again and showed it to her “can you please direct me to the office of Javier Peña?” you asked.

The girl tilted her head to the left in confusion.

“Are you agent Martin?” she said with her thick american accent, you put the badge again in the pocket of your dress pants and nodded to her.

“Yes, is he– is he expecting me?”

“Not really, but agent Feistl is,” she said, pointing to a cornered desk almost in the back where a blond man was sitting, he looked up at the sound of his name and you sighed again.

“Oh, yeah, I talked to him on the phone, thank you,” you said, smiling a bit back to her while you walked around the unoccupied desks in the front of the office “Feistl” you said his name once you reached his desk, stretching out your hand to shake his “agent Martín” you said “it’s nice to meet you” he looked at you, frowning, but took your hand nonetheless and shook it.

“Chris Feistl” he said, a little taken aback and another man approached both of you “this is my partner, Daniel Van Ness” the larger man gave you a single nod and you shook his hand again.

“You’re agent Martin?” Van Ness said.

Here we go again.

“My last name is Martín, first name Florencia” you said, accentuating the í in your last name, inhaling the tension around and making it your own, yet another time “I’m guessing you were expecting a man?” you dropped, they looked at each other “don’t worry, it happens everytime” you finished with a small grin.

They remained silent, looking at you, yet another time you let them, although for a single moment you actually wondered if there was something wrong with the way you looked; you gave a glance to yourself on the elevator walls on your way up and aside from your hair being close to look like a mess you were ok, you take another second to try to analyze the men in front of you, the way they were standing, the expression on their faces, they were shocked that was for sure, but also… relieved? and somehow… happy?.

“Is there anywhere I can put this?” you asked, glancing at the suitcase.

“You came here all the way from the airport?” Feistl asked, you nodded.

“Yeah, no one showed up so I just grabbed a cab” Van Ness snorted and you looked at him. He didn’t say anything, “where’s my desk?” you asked again, starting to feel more frustrated but also a bit amused when again they didn’t say a thing, “you did get the memo that you’d be getting a new person today, right?” you questioned in a huff, a bit louder, looking at them in utter disbelief. Fucking embassy, fucking DEA.

“Is agent Martin here?” you heard your name being called from behind you, the men in front of you just widened their eyes and looked at you.

“That would be me” you announced, turning around, seeing a tall, tanned skin, sweaty man approaching you, “and you must be Javier Peña” you said, allowing yourself to be more assured, stretching your hand again.

“You are agent Martin” he said, making it sound half like a question, half an assertion, looking at you up and down, he put his hands on his hips, not bothering to take your hand.

“Florencia Martín, yes sir” you dropped down your hand and pronounced your last name again, trying to get american people to pronounce your name was hard, and you hoped at least Javier Peña would understand it, yet he said it wrong. He just stood there and you glanced at him discreetly, he, differently from the men behind you, was a walking ball of frustration, you sympathized and tried to read his posture. He was trying to be cocky but his try died in his eyes, he was shocked, surprised and not at all entertained.

“No wonder why I couldn’t find you in the airport” he growled.

“You were also expecting a man” you affirmed, this time, a small hint of disappointment grew inside your stomach “don’t worry, it happens all the time” you repeated roughly. You turned around to your new partners, not caring and ignoring the look your new boss was giving you “my desk?”

Van Ness pointed a small cubicle behind his and Feislt’s big desks, you suppressed a sigh and walked towards the space, still pulling your fucking suitcase, feeling the looks of three men in your back. You were used to this, you had done it countless times, and you knew you weren’t the only woman that has gone through this. But after spending the time you spent in one single place, with the same people, doing the same thing, after having an amazing partner that had believed in you since the day you almost punched the shit out of him on the academy, after having your own office to work with him, after having faced many masculine faces disapproving you being in the same rooms as them while chasing bad guys, after receiving thousands of condescending looks when you said anything, and yet being capable of raise everybody’s expectations, starting it all over again not only sounded hard, it also sounded exhausting.

Javier couldn’t believe his fucking luck when he looked at you. He certainly was expecting a man, Washington only told him so much and he assumed what everyone did when they heard your last name, in the end it was a masculine name. For some reason he felt guilty when you told him you always get that reaction.

He tried to examine you, ever the analyzer, but he got nothing, not from the way you were still standing in front of the ridiculously small cubicle, tapping your foot against the carpeted floor, or the way you kept putting a thin strand of hair behind your ear and it kept falling in front of your right cheekbone, nothing from the way you reached for the manila folder that was waiting to be picked up or the way your fingers moved around the pages. You seemed unreadable to him and he didn’t like that. Not one bit.

You turned around when you felt his stare, he was still just standing there, looking at you.

“Is this really everything I have to be briefed on?” you questioned him lifting the folder in your left hand. He nodded and turned to the right to walk to his office “well fuck that” you murmured under your breath. You heard Van Ness snorting again and looked at him giving you a small smile, maybe you didn’t say that as quietly as you wanted, you gave him half a grin and he shook his head.

You took off your blazer and sat on the incredibly uncomfortable chair.

“Shit” you whispered again.

“Fuck” Javier said under his breath, loosening his tie and crashing into his chair. He rubbed his eyes with the ball of his hands and sighed. What the fuck did the people at Washington think. He was after a whole fucking cartel, he didn’t have his trusted partner this time, he was alone and he had to lead a team to do that, he had just lost two agents after they were stupid and reckless going around Cali and they dared to send down one random chick in some sort of replacement that for some reason seemed just so small and frail to him.

He was pretty sure you weren’t due to the fact that you were a DEA agent, but when he looked at you the only thing he could notice was the way your eyes were dimmed, maybe due to the fluorescent lights or the fact that you had flown who-knows how many hours to be there, or the way your hands seemed way too delicate to even handle a gun, or how your body looked breakable to the touch.

He didn’t like the way his mind was forming his thoughts about you, it wasn’t right to think that way of a woman- no, a person- no, an agent he had just met, he just knew it was the macho part in him that saw you that way. He knew that if Washington had sent you all the way down to a god forsaken country fighting an unfair war, you had to be capable to endure it.

Javier scratched his stubble and reached for the thinest folder he had on his desk, it was your file. He grinned when he opened it, unbelieving of the almost non existent amount of information it had about you. It did have your full name, though, so, mistaking you for a guy was indeed his fault, just because he didn’t read the file before.

He browsed through the last locations you had been sent to and raised his eyebrows when he saw the amount of time you’d spent in the last place. No wonder why you were being so reluctant about everything you saw and how you were being treated. He remembered how he felt when he was a newcomer and he remembered what he had to go through with Steve when he first came to the country, it was awful, and even without the language barrier, as your file said you did speak spanish, he assumed you must feel like an outcast. It was never easy, arriving at a place where everything seemed like it belonged there but you.

Javier closed the file and threw it back to the pile of manila folders in front of him. He did have his doubts about you, and surely he was wondering why he had only been sent that joke of a file and nothing else, and he didn’t want to make your stay in Colombia or at the embassy a living hell, but he did want to see what you were able to do, he couldn’t wait for you to show him what you had in you.

That last thought sent him for a bit through a deliciously nasty tangent, and he had to bring himself back to the initial train of thought: you.

You were now his. No– you were now in his team. He was now your boss. He couldn’t think of you in any other way even if sometimes it couldn’t be avoided.

Javier rubbed his lower lip with his thumb, wondering what were you working on before arriving, trying to think what was happening in México that made you stay that long.

And a question was forming in his head… What the hell did you do to be sent to Colombia?

// next→

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña fanfic #javier pena fanfic #narcos #narcos fanfic #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #rushingly bittersweet tag

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abbysfrenchbraid · 3 years

Note

Because of personal experiences, can I get some headcanons or a scenario of Abby with a gf that gets tired really easily? Also I just wanna get this out there, I am really glad your blog exists

Thank you so much for your kind words, they really mean a lot. I hope this is similar to what you imagined 💌 (I hope you like poetry!)

about 2k words of fluff and a little angst at the beginning. content warnings for language, ableism.

“This is it, Y/N. I’ve let this behavior slide too many times.”

Your heart dropped and your breath caught in your throat. Trying to fight back tears, you forced yourself to answer.

“I’m so sorry James, I can’t help it. My body just can’t work for hours without break, I’ve tried everything.”

You threw a soapy towel back into the washtub and took a step towards your supervisor.

“Please don’t throw me out, I don’t know where else I could do my part!”

“Well, you certainly aren’t doing your part here.”

He was speaking the truth; he had caught you way too often, crouching in the corner with your head between your knees or sitting on the floor against the wall half asleep. You couldn’t help it; this was your third job at the stadium and every time you had managed to get yourself fired. It had nothing to do with the laziness your previous bosses had accused you of or with simply not wanting to work. Your body just seemed to work against you.

After more than an hour of standing, there was no way for you to stay standing up and working at the washing station now, the hard bodily labor was just too much for you. You constantly felt like you were going to faint, no matter how much you ate, drank and slept. As soon as you were unsupervised, you’d have to sit down or take a break because you couldn’t hold yourself upright anymore. It was becoming harder and harder to find acceptance from others and a place where you could work and contribute to the WLF while also taking care of yourself.

James rubbed the back of his shaved head and sighed.

“I’m sorry, I seriously don’t see how this is doing any of us any good. You should report in with task management tomorrow and see if they can give you a less physically straining job. I’m not sure how I feel about your little dizzy spells or whatever, but if you’re actually not fit enough for work, you should find something else.”

The rage that started boiling in your stomach sent hot tears down your cheeks. This wasn’t fair. You loosened the ties on your apron and tossed it on a table, then you left without another word.

The only person who didn’t constantly batter and scold you was Abby. She had met you in a stairway, sitting on the steps and leaning your head against the cold railing to stay conscious. The blonde had practically sprinted up the stairs toward you and asked if everything was okay; after you had explained, she had nodded and offered you her arm on your way back to your room. From that day on, she had checked in almost every day, bringing you snacks at work or dinner from the cafeteria when you were too exhausted to go yourself. She had believed you without hesitation and made it her purpose to help you out wherever she could.

Ignoring the surprised faces of the people you walked past, you stormed to your room. You were lucky to live alone, even though it was just a shoebox of a room. You had a bed, a locker, and a tiny window that you ripped open before throwing yourself on your bed.

You hated having to rely on others for support and you had spent the last year mostly on your own, hiding your condition and isolating yourself from others so they wouldn’t notice and judge you, even though the story of you falling asleep and taking too many unauthorized breaks at work had already made its rounds.

With Abby it was different. You knew she never wanted anything in return, she just liked to spend time with you and knew what it was like to be the odd one out, the one everyone had already heard about. In return, you liked to give her little drawings of her and her friends, short comic strips and poems you wrote when you had some time to yourself. She loved sitting on your couch and listening to you talk about poetry; although she was a big reader she had never really gotten into that genre.

She had gained your trust in no time and was the first person you really told everything that went on in your head. Well, almost. You hadn’t dared to tell her about how her presence made you feel like you were flying, how your heart sometimes started racing when she looked at you and how all you wanted sometimes was to fall asleep in her arms after a long day.

Your pillow was wet with tears and your head was pounding from crying for too long. Great. You reached under your bed and felt around for the water bottle you had accidentally kicked under there earlier. As you gulped down the lukewarm water, you finally felt the knot in your throat release its grasp from your airways.

Exhausted, you turned over your pillow and pulled your blanket up. This day was fucked anyway, you might as well declare it complete and hope to wake up in a better mood tomorrow.

It was dark when you awoke, disturbed by a quiet squeaking noise and the beam of light shining through a crack in the door. A big figure was squeezing through the gap and softly closing the door again. The light from under the door was just enough to see Abby tiptoeing toward you.

You couldn’t help but smile and pushed yourself up onto your elbows. She immediately froze in her tracks.

“Fuck, did I wake you? I just wanted to check on you and bring you some dinner.”

You switched on the lamp next to your bed and soft light illuminated the room. Abby had a burrito in one hand and an apple in the other. She looked genuinely sorry.

“It’s okay, I’ve been sleeping for hours. I just had a terrible day, that’s all.”

She immediately sat down next to you, putting the food down on the bedside table and brushing a strand of hair out of your face with a worried smile.

“What happened? Are you hurt?”

Her sweet concern brought back those stupid tears and you were too distraught to fight them. You shook your head and cleared your throat.

“No, I just got kicked out of work. Again. I honestly don’t know what to do. Maybe admin will just throw me out completely tomorrow.”

Abby squeezed your hand.

“Bullshit. I’ll talk to them. Why are they making you work these stupid hard labor jobs anyway? They could put you somewhere you can use your head instead, you’re the smartest person I know!”

She gently brushed her calloused thumb over your cheek.

“These assholes are not worth a single one of your tears, Y/N. James can honestly go fuck himself.”

You snorted and Abby beamed at you, happy to have gotten through to you.

“Hey, how much have you eaten today?”

You thought for a second, then you answered: “Some oatmeal for breakfast? I left work before lunch and came straight here.”

The wolf sighed and shook her head. “You’re terrible at taking care of yourself, you know that?” She handed you the burrito. “Here, it’s still warm.”

The first bite was delightful and you let out a moan without thinking. Blood shot into your face immediately as both of you stared at each other for a second, then Abby broke out in laughter.

“See? You’re practically starved. I should have gotten you two of those.”

She suddenly straightened up.

“Oh, I completely forgot!” She pulled out a small paperback from her back pocket. “Manny gave me this. Some fling of his gave it to him and he doesn’t know shit about poetry and never will. He remembered you liked poems so he said to give this to you.”

“You told him about me?” you asked in astonishment.

“Of course I did, we’ve been hanging out every day for the past few weeks! Do you have any idea how amazing you are? How much you’ve taught me?”

With your mouth full, all you could do was smack her shoulder and give her a doubtful look.

She looked down at her hands, twisting her fingers into each other.

“I mean it, Y/N. I know you don’t think of yourself as very interesting or fun to be around, but you’ve made my life so much better just by spending time with me. Even if you’re always falling asleep on me,” she added and grinned.

You didn’t bother trying to be witty and grabbed the book instead. The title surprised you.

“Selected Poems by Sappho. Why the hell would that woman give this to Manny?”

Abby shot you a questioning look. “Why not?”

“Abby, Sappho is the OG lesbian. All her poems are just about yearning for the touch of a lady lover.”

“Oh.” Now it was the wolf’s turn to blush. “I had no idea.”

Sitting up, you turned so you could lean your back against the wall. You tapped on the bed right next to you.

“Come on, Abs. Let me tell you about Sappho, then.”

Hesitating only for a brief moment, Abby took off her boots and scooted closer to you.

You spent the next hour reading her poems and telling her stories about women and romance in Ancient Greece. The blonde listened attentively, asking a few questions here and there. After a while, you felt your eyelids growing heavier and your concentration dwindling, as much as you tried to keep it together.

Abby gently laid a hand on your knee.

“You tired, babe?”

Your head flew around and you stared at her; had you heard that right? Abby gave you a shy smile.

“I can try to read some of these to you until you fall asleep. Only if you want me to, of course.” She shook her head as if trying to get rid of a thought. “I should just go. You need to get some rest.”

Before she could get up, you had already placed your hand on her underarm.

“I’d like that. I’m sorry for just drifting off like that all the time, it’s got nothing to do with you.”

She cocked her head. “Don’t apologize for that. No one can just change the way they feel.”

You slid underneath the blanket and, following an impulse, rested your head on Abby’s thigh. You could feel the heat underneath the fabric and her muscles twitched involuntarily as the wolf took a deep breath and opened up the book again.

deathless aphrodite of the many colored throne,

daughter of zeus, weaver of spells, I entreat you.

do not with grief and anguish

tame my heart.

Drifting away into that wonderful state between waking and dreaming, you let the words of Sappho, spoken by the soft voice of your most trusted friend, the woman who took care of you and listened to you, the wolf that was tame only for you, sink in.

Do not with grief and anguish / tame my heart.

There were so many things in this world that made life harder and turned people bitter. You would not be one of them. You would not tame your heart. You would let it speak freely, you would let it burn for the woman cradling your head and protecting you from anything the world could throw at you. Tomorrow you would tell her. Tomorrow.

stars around the beautiful moon

hide back their luminous form

whenever all full she shines

on the earth

silvery

All your life, you had felt connected to the moon. Its unwavering beauty, its consistent waning away and returning in full shine, it had always assured you that no matter how bad things got, they would turn around for the better. It would be okay. You would be okay, more than okay with Abby by your side.

let me know what you thought (especially if you requested this!)

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson fanfiction #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby tlou2

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milkybonya · 3 years

Text

Unnamed

order #002: large banana milk tea with pudding and lychee jelly for Shinwon, requested by anon

-> Warning: food/drink mentions, mentions of alcohol + a bit suggestive?

-> in the same soulmate universe as my Named fic for Haechan, where "Some are named, some are unnamed. The named have their soulmate's name written somewhere on their body, and the unnamed don't have a soulmate", here you're unnamed.

[a/n]: i know this is a soulmate!au but i wanted to try writing from a perspective where the reader doesn't have a soulmate?? i think it will be fun hehe (but i hope the anon who requested doesn't mind!). i think it will work well with the enemies to lovers concept too :)

You're unnamed, and it sucks. For all your life, you've had to deal with all your loved ones moping about how they can't find who the name on their body belongs to, while you don't even have a name on your body. You're unnamed, like I said :(

They call you dramatic for being sad about it, telling you that you're free to date around and just do whatever... as if that helps. Of course it makes you feel worse.

The worst of them all if your neighbour, Shinwon.

"Good morning, [y/n]. Got a hot date today?" Shinwon asks you as he opens up the door to his flat.

You're dressed nicely today, but no, not for a hot date.

"Got a job interview."

"Oh... of course. I'm sure the unnamed wouldn't be going on dates much, anyway."

"You literally told me last time I must date around a lot because I come home late and have no soulmate so I can do what I want," you spit out, growing angry.

"Whatever. No need to get so mad!" Shinwon says, waving his hands around and finally stepping into his flat.

You huff and stomp off to your job interview.

Ever since Shinwon moved in next to you and found out you were unnamed, he's been getting on your nerves like it's no one's business. He's always teasing you about it, even in front of the other neighbours! He constantly embarrasses you and you hate him for hit.

He even leaves notes on your door, with 'unnamed!' written on it with stupid ' :P ' faces all around. It's so childish, but it still manages to make you so angry.

There's only one mystery, though.

Shinwon has never told you if he's unnamed or not.

You asked him many times, and he's always managed to dodge the question.

He lives alone... but of course, that might not mean anything. Still, you like to think that he's unnamed too, and lets out all his anger on you. The day that you find out for sure, you'll never let him live it down!

After absolutely killing it at your interview despite being nervous and angry because of Shinwon, you head to a café to treat yourself. Of course, Shinwon just has to be there. Working. At that café.

You don't realize it until you're right at the counter, since you're so giddy from the successful interview, still. But as soon as you hear him laugh right into your face, you realize who it is.

"[y/n]? What are you doing here now? Are you stalking me?" he laughs. His coworkers grow increasingly confused until he introduces you.

"This is [y/n]. They're my neighbour, and unnamed. Isn't that sad?" Shinwon tells them, cracking up.

His coworkers nervously nod and continue with what they were doing, but you feel absolutely embarrassed. You don't even know any of these people but now all of them know that you're unnamed? You'll get Shinwon back for this....

"Can I get that drink please?" you ask Shinwon, pointing to the menu. After paying for the drink, you wait on the side for him to prepare it. When he finally hands it to you, your rage is bubbling up so intensely inside that you do something you never thought you would have done.

As you go to pick up the cup, you pretend to 'accidentally' knock it over and spill it all over Shinwon.

"Oops, sorry," you say, innocently.

Shinwon wears a blank look on his face. He pauses, not doing anything until one of his coworkers rushes forward to help clean up.

"I'll get you a new drink!" they tell you.

You start to feel a little nervous as Shinwon's mood has very obviously changed. He greets the new customers quietly and without a trace of a smile on his face.

Why does it even matter, though? He's the one who's always making you feel angry. How about he be the one who feels angry for a change?

After taking your new drink and heading home like a boss, you spend the rest of the day resting at home. You decide to go out for a walk later in the evening, though, and you're met with a surprise when you open your door.

Your favourite plant, that you've placed right outside your door so you can see it everytime you enter and leave the house, and also so it's easy for people to know which flat is yours when they're visiting, has been completely smashed to pieces. The gigantic pot that was holding the little tree that had grown taller than where the doorknob sat on your door is now laying on the ground in a sad state.

It breaks your heart to see it like this, but you know exactly who's done it.

You take a few steps until you're at Shinwon's door. Then, you knock loudly, wondering if he's still home. Sure enough, he opens the door. And when he notices its you, he glares.

"What is it?"

"Why have you gone and broken my plant?"

"What makes you think I did it?" he shoots back, a slight, evil smile dancing on his lips.

"I know you did it, Shinwon."

There's a moment of silence as Shinwon thinks of what to say next, but you don't even let him speak as you continue.

"Shinwon, you embarrassed me, today, just like you always do. If this is because of me spilling my drink on you earlier, then no. We're not even now. We were even after I spilled my drink, because you've been tormenting me for so long now."

"What have I done?" Shinwon asks you, raising his eyebrows.

You sigh.

"It's not even worth telling you. Maybe you should clean up my plant and take some time to think about it yourself," you tell Shinwon before walking away.

He's left in a daze and actually ends up cleaning his mess, wondering why you have such an effect on him so suddenly. They're hot when they're angry, is what he finds himself thinking, but he quickly pushes this thought away.

"Shinwon, you jerk!" you yell up into the sky as you sit in your balcony, drinking some alcohol.

Nothing quite hits the spot right now like the drink in your hand as you peer down at the peaceful view below. A light breeze hits you and you close your eyes, feeling like it's caressing your face.

"You called?" Shinwon asks, poking his head out from the balcony next to yours.

You almost drop your drink out of your hand and curse at him. Shinwon just laughs at response.

"I never called you!"

"I clearly just heard you call me a jerk..."

You stick out your tongue at him and continue to drink. Somehow, he climbs over from his balcony onto yours and takes a seat across from you, taking a few sips from your drink. You feel so hazy that you don't even feel surprised.

"What are you doing?" you finally ask him.

"Not letting you drink alone," he murmurs.

"And what's wrong with drinking alone?"

"I do it all the time. It sucks."

Shinwon wears a small smile on his face as he talks to you, different from the mischievious one he'd always give you when talking to you and teasing you.

"And why do you drink alone if it sucks?"

Shinwon hesitates, scratching the back of his neck.

"I'm unnamed... we all do that, don't we?"

Your breath hitches in your throat. Unnamed... so you were right.

"Just cause we're unnamed, that doesn't mean we have to drink alone."

"Maybe... but we do it anyway, right?"

You hum in response before drinking some more.

"Why do you tease me so much if you're also unnamed, then?"

"It makes me feel more at ease. You make me feel... more comfortable in my skin."

You laugh a little.

"And what does that mean?"

"Maybe that I like you?" Shinwon giggles.

"What? You're joking, right? It's just cause we're both unnamed."

Shinwon shrugs, looking down.

"Shinwon, you know how it feels to be unnamed, then, right?" you ask after a long pause. "I feel so unloved, so unneeded and unwanted on this stupid planet. It's like I don't have a purpose."

Your eyes start to tear up as the burden and many thoughts you've been carrying begin to spill out.

Shinwon remains silent, probably unsure of what to say or do. Instead, he says something unexpected.

"Can I kiss you?"

You cock your head at him, confused. Why is your rude neighbour asking if he can kiss you when you're literally about to cry?

Oh, well. This will be your first kiss.. Finally, you're kissing someone...

When your lips meet, Shinwon's feel so soft and warm against yours. You don't want to pull away, and it all makes sense now. You don't feel so alone anymore.

The next day day, you wake up to flowers at your doorstep, along with some hangover soup. There's a note on top:

feel better, [y/n]! i'm sure the hangover must be bad... i would come to your door in person, but i thought you may be too embarrassed to see me.

- jerk Shinwon

You smile as you read the way he ended the note. This all feels very weird to you... You used to hate your neighbour, but after tasting his lips last night, hearing him say he doesn't want you to drink alone and seeing what he's left for you now, you're second-guessing how you feel about him.

You knock on his door, hoping he's still home. To your surprise, he opens the door, his hair messy and his eyes puffy.

"[y/n]? How are you feeling?" he asks, looking a little frazzled.

"Me? Better than you, it seems. I'm about to head out to work!" you say, pointing to your formal wear.

"Oh... won't be needing the soup, then?"

"No, I need it! I haven't had breakfast."

Shinwon smiles, looking down.

"I'm glad," he says.

"Well, Shinwon. Wanna go on a coffee date or something today?" you ask him, your heart pounding as your veins overflow with sudden courage.

Shinwon laughs slightly, the corners of his eyes creasing.

"That sounds nice."

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

handmaid - 03

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: i love writing ingenue readers, it’s my absolute favourite thing. i hope you enjoy xx

NEXT CHAPTER

The contract.

That goddamn contract had haunted Y/N throughout the whole night. There were several points that not only made her even more scared of the myth that was the mob boss Sebastian Stan, but made her fear for her own safety if she were to slip outside those rules. On the other hand, several other points stated and talked about terms she’d never really heard of. It made sense to her why no one dared oppose him, if she was being completely honest, she didn’t feel like opposing him. Things were different in his family than the tight knitted Forrests, more technical even, all held up by blood contracts that made it sound like she herself was selling her soul in order to serve him.

This was not the way things had been taught to her. No. She had always been treated as almost a foster daughter of Mr. Forrest, going to the same prestigious schools as his daughter, attending the same events, being cared for the same way with only the price of making sure Gwen kept her feet on earth and was safe enough by constantly having her by her side. The Stans had an almost hierarchic way of doing business with the family itself being at the top while the employees stood right at the end of the pyramid. She couldn’t blame them for that, after all, they had held the highest rank in all of the families for over a century, but it still wasn’t free of criticism.

Gwen had returned from her date with the mysterious guy with a spring on her step, and purple hickeys on her neck and collarbones. She had just sighed at the sight, rolling her eyes at the very much engaged woman’s behaviour. Y/N didn’t want to blame her or shame her into at least trying, fully knowing it was common for mistresses and affairs to occur in the mafia. However, Gwen was her friend and she’d rather have her try to at least be friends with Sebastian. Nevertheless, that probably wouldn’t happen and she should probably prepare herself to discuss the contract with someone who could possibly kill her and make it look like an accident. Could she even amend a contract? She didn’t know, but she was gonna try.

With all the might she could, she strutted towards his office, taking a deep breathe in. You’re a powerful woman, Y/N, she told herself. Powerful woman, Catherine Tramell levels of power. With all that, she knocked on the door, mumbling his name and wondering if she could run away had he not heard it. Sadly he did, telling her to come in. She opened the door, shaking like a leaf on a windy night. There he was, sprawled over his office chair like a king in his throne, slightly unbuttoned dress shirt.

- Miss Y/N ... - her name rolled off the tip of his tongue just like honey, sickeningly sweet. Sebastian observed her too, her sleep filled eyes from what he guessed due to waiting for Gwen and her oversized baby pink dress which he was sure probably had belonged to Gwen too. - How can I help you?

- I’m here for the contract. - she walked to his desk, contract in hands.

- Did you sign it? - he questioned, pointing at the chair so she would sit down instead of spending the whole time on her feet. Not that he didn’t enjoy to see her standing.

- Not really, I have a few questions. - she bit onto the skin of her bottom lip, placing the contract on top of his desk. - I also don’t agree with some points of this agreement.

- It’s a contract, Miss Y/N. You sign it or you don’t sign it, we don’t discuss it because I have better things to do. - he put both his elbows on top of his desk but she instead opened the contract, pointing at one of the first bullet points right at the top.

- The subject will not pursue any legal action. Why would I pursue any legal action and why would I not be allowed to pursue it? - Sebastian chuckled, leaning against his chair with the most unnerving grin ever seen.

- Well, angel, if you were to pursue any legal action against me you wouldn’t win and considering your prior employer didn’t pay you ... I don’t think you have enough money to get good enough lawyer to fight mine. Even if you did, I own the jurors, whatever you did, I would still win.

- I would still like the ability to sue you. - she crossed her arms. - Please.

- No, that stays.

- If that stays then this point ... - she changed to a different page, looking for the sentence she had highlighted the prior night. - The subject is to carry a firing weapon and receive training if untrained. This point leaves.

- That is also a hard no. It’s for yours and Miss Forrest’s protection.

- Isn’t that what the weirdly suited man’s for? - his name was Christian and he constantly followed Gwen and Y/N around. Based on what she had noticed, he had at least two guns in his belt and was constantly annoyed at something.

- Alright, angel. How about you do the training and I don’t force you to carry around a gun? - he took a pen from his perfectly organised pen holder filled with the same matte coloured black pens. That type of organisation and colour matching was only seen in office supplies magazines. He turned the contract to himself, crossing it out and writing the newly discussed point. - Anything else?

- When you said that all your employees must be submissive to orders ... how would you describe submissive? - Sebastian took a double look at her, wondering if she was teasing him but no. She had the most confused look he’d ever seen on someone’s face and he wondered how sheltered she was from the world she lived in. - Mr. Stan?

- Pardon me. - he woke up from his thoughtful state. His early morning brain did not dealt well with the words submissive followed by Mr. Stan in the same sentence, specially coming from her. - I think I would describe it as the dictionary describes it, Miss Y/N. Additionally, I believe I told you to call me Sebastian.

- Yes, sorry. I just ... I don’t wanna, I don’t feel comfortable with the idea that I have to do everything you tell me to do.

- With all due respect, Miss Y/N, you are a handmaid. You’re a female servant and being a servant means you do everything you’re told.

- Means I do everything Gwen tells me to me and even with that, it goes through some critical thinking. My loyalty does not lie with you until you’re married to Miss Forrest. - in any order circumstance, he would’ve had her punished for that snarky comment. However, this was Y/N and not only would the Forrests take it as an insult, he did not want to hurt such a precious little innocent thing. - So I would like that removed.

- I must say, Miss Y/N, you’re a good negotiator. - he crossed the point out, wondering if he’d ever regret it before handing it the pen back to her. - Now, would you please sign it?

- Oh, alright. - she put the pen’s top up to her mouth, mindlessly bitting on it as she read the contract all over again, something Sebastian choose to advert his gaze from. His gaze only returned back to her as he heard the scribbling pen being put back on his desk. - I have a question.

- When don’t you have a question, Miss Y/N? - he put the pen back in its holder, filling her contract along with the rest of his staff.

- Can I decorate my room? - she played with the hem of her dress, back again to bitting her lip. - Not that I don’t like your taste I ...

- I didn’t decorate it myself, Miss Y/N. You can do whatever you please with your room as long as it doesn’t disturb its safety and over wall construction design.

- Thank you. - she gave him that cheek to cheek smile, getting up from the chair and moving it back to its initial state.

- I hope to see you at the engagement party tonight, Miss Y/N. That is, if you’re not covering for Miss Forrest’s affairs.

- It’s a party, I’m sure she’ll attend.

She closed the door behind her, letting go of the air she had been holding in like a nervous little kid. Her hands flew to her cheeks which were severally heated up, but at least she had gotten half of what she wanted and that was worth the whole nervous scenario that would probably haunt her during sleepless nights. Nevertheless, she had gotten her way and right now she had enough strength in her to go awake up a very grumpy sleeping Gwen.

Y/N walked into her bedroom, opening the door quite harshly to see if it would wake up sleeping beauty but she remained still in her slumber, as if the very loud noise wasn’t even there. Annoyed, Y/N grabbed the remote from her dresser, pointing it towards the windows so they shades would give way for the natural light to enter in. That seemed to do the trick as Gwen hissed like a cat, hiding her head under the duvet which Y/N unceremoniously pulled away from her.

- Rise and shine, Gwen. - she held the duvet in her hand as Gwen raised her head, giving her the scariest glare she’d ever seen. - Next time don’t stay out until 5 AM. Don’t you have an engagement party to get ready for?

- Shopping does sound like a great idea. - she sat down on her bed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. - How do the hickeys look?

- Like you were mauled by a bear. What do you even do with those boys that gets you looking like a TV hero after a fight? - they were fresh hickeys and just like any bruise they looked very red, starting to turn purple. Y/N might’ve never gotten a hickey but as a rather clumsy person, she did understood bruises very well which meant in a few hours that same hickey would start becoming very ugly. - Can’t you act like an engaged woman?

- Can’t you act like less of a prude? - she grabbed her phone, turning it on to check for messages.

- Hey, I’m not a prude. - Y/N whined like a child, taking her phone away from her too. - Please go take a shower, put some makeup on those hickeys and get ready for lunch.

- I wanna go shop for a new dress, Y/N. We can probably go and have lunch somewhere in the Upper East. - she wrapped herself in one of her countless satin robes. - I’m sure you can convince the Big Bad to allow us to go.

- No. I covered for you last night and he caught me. I’m not gonna ask him for anything, you ask him, you’re his future wife.

- C’mon, Y/N. What’s the worse he can do to you? - she could think of several things he could do to her that all ended up with her at the bottom of a lake sleeping with the fishes or whatever method of deposing he preferred. - He can’t kill you, that’s bad practice.

- No Gwen, you talk to him. I’m not gonna ask him anything after he caught me lying. - Y/N pulled the duvet back onto the bed as Gwen stepped into her wardrobe, looking at what to wear. - I’ll go grab my bag, I guess.

- I’ll talk to Sebastian, stop being such a scared little sheep. - Gwen screamed as she walked out and into her bedroom. Y/N eyes immediately scanned the room from side to side, wondering if someone had heard and thankfully no one had heard such thing.

She returned to her bedroom, taking note of a few things she would’ve grabbed from the shop to make it a bit more homey, maybe a nice dusty pink throw and some nice pillows. Yeah, that would make it look so much better.

Y/N grabbed her bag, putting her purse and phone in it before going down the stairs where a very annoyed Gwen was standing next to Sebastian who constantly had the same stoic look that made anyone want to immediately bow down.

- Sebastian is coming with us. - Gwen shot him a glare for which he didn’t mind too much.

- If you’re gonna behave like a child, I’ll treat you like a child. - Y/N just followed them onto the lift, exchanging an uncomfortable look with the chauffeur as Gwen huffed, understanding she was not gonna have her way with this.

The journey to the Upper East Side shopping street was even more uncomfortable. Everyone was mostly quietly, Gwen unhappy with not getting her way which was foreign to her, the chauffeur who barely spoke to begin with, Sebastian in the front looking over some papers and Y/N trying to turn invisible. Soon enough they were on the street with Y/N following Gwen into Prada, her favourite shop, along with the security guard while Sebastian took off to go somewhere else.

Going into expensive stores was something Y/N was used too but it still made her feel wildly out of place. From the clerks handing them expensive champagne to Gwen going over several newly in. She walked out in a red bodied dress that flared out from her waist, giving a little twirl.

- Does this dress say forced engagement or not? - Gwen asked, shaking her hair a bit for volume. - I need a matching mask.

- I thought you said covering your face was sacrilege. - Y/N leaned against the comfy coach in the changing room.

- It’s a masquerade party. It’s really in right now, besides, a man in a mask is always entrancing.

- Please don’t make out with someone at your own engagement party.

- Alright, Y/N ... - she turned around. - I really don’t need your criticism right now.

- I’m ... I’m sorry. - she bite onto her lip, getting up from the coach, picking onto the skirt of the dress. - I’ll wait with Amos outside.

Gwen crossed her arms, watching her leave. Y/N knew for a fact she wasn’t being critic out of meanness alone, she just didn’t want her friend to be gossiped about in mob circles. She was a smart girl with capacity to take over her father’s place if it came the time to do so, however, Y/N guessed maybe her opinion wasn’t called for.

She stepped in outside to stay with the very silent security guard. Did his contract say he couldn’t speak? Y/N didn’t know, at least it was better to be there without having Gwen wanting to have her head on a plate.

- Found a dress already? - she turned to where the voice was coming, finding Sebastian waiting by the parked car.

- Oh, no. I have a dress at home, besides ... Gwen will probably buy two so if she doesn’t like the one I choose, I can always wear the one she doesn’t.

- Do you always let Miss Forrest pick what you wear? - he cocked his head to the side. - And you had an issue with being submissive to orders?

- It’s not the same thing. - she crossed her arms, rolling her eyes.

- Did you just roll your eyes at me? - he chuckled darkly, noticing how one of her hands came to rest upon one of her heated up cheeks. - Have you ever had a piece of clothing that wasn’t a hand out?

- My school uniform was mine, I still have it, very soft dress shirt.

- Come on. - he snapped his fingers for one of his security men to follow him. Y/N scrunched her face, holding her bag as she walked behind him until he stopped in front of a store front which Y/N recognised as one of Gwen’s favourite shops to go in. Oscar de La Renta. - We’re getting you first new piece of clothing.

- I can afford a napkin from Oscar de La Renta. Much less a dress.

- Consider it a gift from me.

- I can’t ... - she was interrupted by his phone ringing. He took it off his pocket, face lines intensified as he noticed the name on it.

- Stephen, make sure Miss Y/N gets a dress.

- Wait, Sebastian, I don’t need ... - he picked up his phone stopping her mid sentence. She stood there, watching him walk down the street on the phone. Biting her lip, with a little naughty smile, she entered the store with the security guard behind her.

Time to buy a dress.

taglist: @sideeffectsofyou @lilya-petrichor @xoxohannahlee

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan drabble #mob!sebastian stan #mob!au #au!mob #mobster au

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years

Text

Rose Red’s All Hallows Eve: Shall We Go Inside?

Summary- 5.3k Charles Blackwood x You. You were sent a ticket to the exclusive fund raiser at Rose Red on Halloween Night. You are to visit the character Charles Blackwood, played by your forever crush Sebastian Stan. He supposed to take you on a tour of the famous haunted manor, claiming it to be the home of his Aunt Ellen Rimbauer and Uncle Wilford Rimbauer. What a once in a life time opportunity! You might just never want to leave.

Warnings- its a ghost story, creepy descriptions, mentions of suicide, death.

A/N- written as my last submission to @jtargaryen18 Haunted House 2020. This will be the final piece I write for Rose Red’s All Hallows Eve, and I hope you all enjoy a glimpse and some back story of Rose Red that wasn’t given in the Curtis chapters. The story is from Stephen King’s Rose Red which was a TV mini series. Excellent Halloween movie if you can find it. Its hard to locate now. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics Happy Reading and Haunting. 😈🎃🌹

Masterlist

You couldn’t get over your good fortune when you checked your mailbox that morning. Inside was an envelope, with wispy handwriting with no return address. When you opened it, there was a ticket, an exclusive ticket to the Rose Red All Hallows Eve charity function.

Your jaw dropped, cause even though you had been trying everything to secure a ticket for months, no one would sell you one. And you tried finding scalped tickets, willing to take a chance for one, only to be turned down. It was an invite-only, only the elite were getting to tour the mansion and meet some of their favorite movie actors in their darker roles.

Your hands trembled as you brought the ticket closer, reading the fine print to see which person you were getting to meet. Not that you were picky, you would take the chance to meet anyone. Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, Frank Grillo, Scarlett Johnson, or Chris Hemsworth. Just being able to get into the mansion was worth all the months of begging and trying just about anything for tickets.

Your eyes roved back and forth, trying to pick up a name when you saw the fine print announcing that you would be escorted around Rose Red by Charles Blackwood from We Have Always Lived In The Castle. You gave a little squee of excitement, having really wanted to meet Sebastian Stan. What a better character on Halloween night then the devious cousin Charles. Your plans for tonight went from working on a project for your boss to getting red wine drunk and watching the movie on Netflix to get reacquainted with Charles Blackwood. Research, of course, you didn’t want to be meeting the famous “Charles” without having done your research after all. Happy in a way you haven’t been in a while, you went to pour your wine and binge, wishing you had someone to call to tell your news to. But you were a bit of a loner and didn’t tend to connect with people.

But whatever, this well this was going to be the best Halloween yet for you. No getting sloppy drunk in a bar to bring home some wanna be cowboy or that one time you brought home a clown. A disgusted shudder went through you at the memory. That wasn’t a Halloween you were particularly proud of. Not this year though, this time you were going to one of the most haunted places in New York and seeing Sebastian Stan. Wonder what it would take to bring him home? Making yourself grin like an idiot, as your major fan girl crush made your heart race. You poured almost the entire bottle of red wine in the goblet.

“How did the saying go? Treat Yo Self.” Lifting the glass you took a rather large swallow.

Charles stood at the entrance, waiting for the next patron he was to bring through the mansion. They should be arriving soon, the time on the ticket said 11 pm sharp. Waiting at the gate, his back leaned against the cold stone of the wall and his gaze fell upwards to see a bit of green creeping over the wall, sprouting thorns sharper than any dagger. Charles hummed softly with a bit of a smirk to see the creeping vine, a small bud twisted as it grew in size. The bigger it got, the more it tinted from green to blood red, and it spiraled open to a single rose. Reaching up, he pinched the stem, clipping it off and bringing it down to admire it. The perfect petals are just as soft as a woman's lips when he brushed his fingertip along one, and when a thorn bit into his palm, he hissed at the sting, that too just like a woman. Don’t respect her, and she will cut you down. Blood welled up and spilled towards the ground before he brought his palm to his mouth and sucked it clean, inspecting to make sure there wasn’t any of the thorn left in his palm. Snipping off the thorns, he let them scatter into the gravel under his feet.

Charles was fixing the rose into his shirt pocket, when you started to come out from between parked cars, your hands smoothing against your thighs with a bit of nerve and you just looked so innocently sweet. The corner of his mouth quirked up while he inspected you. She’s a perfect choice, he thought maliciously as his features shifted to warm and welcoming. “Welcome Dear to Rose Red, my family's Manor. My name is Charles Blackwood.” Plucking out that flower from his shirt pocket, he gave a slight bow and held it out for you. Your giggle went right through him, making his toes curl in his shiny black Louboutin’s all the way to the base of his neck where his expensive Tom Ford collar rubbed. You looked up at him with a touch of innocence that should make him feel bad, but it didn’t.

You dug out your ticket and showed them to Charles Blackwood, which he inspected closely and pulled out his wallet to pocket it. You bubbled with excitement and lifted the rose he had just given you to your nose, letting the tip brush against the edges of the petals. “Thank you. I shall press it to dry it when I get home Sebastian. But I have no place to put it.” You started to figure out a way to hold onto it and not get it ruined when he took it back and wedged it into the stone wall behind him.

“It will be safe here Dear, and Charles, please. I don’t know this Sebastian you call me.” He gave a wink and you nod in understanding. It was supposed to be just the characters showing you around. So it made sense that you were supposed to call him Charles, not Sebastian. You bit your lip and nodded.

“Of course, Sorry Charles.” you loved how well he fell into character, offering his arm to you that you curled your hand around his forearm, falling into step together once you two went through the iron-wrought gate.

“No harm is done, Dear. I’m very excited to show you around my Uncle and Aunts family home for the evening. It’s not often I have such a lovely woman on my arm.” He leads you up the stairs and opens the massive door to the mansion. “After You. There are a few groups inside, but we won’t be running into them.”

Your head tips back to look all around, taken in by the deep wooden double staircase sweeping up to the upper floors, gleaming marble floors and a crystal chandelier that as you and Charles walked underneath it, you couldn't help but tip your head back, mesmerized by the glinting of the crystalline shards. “One of Ellen's nicer finds. She had the chandelier shipped from France, each crystal carefully wrapped.”

“This whole place, it looks completely restored. I thought it was condemned, banned from the public?” You question as he leads you into what looks like a sitting room, another room that spoke of decadence, with plush chairs around a large fireplace that seemed to take up half the wall, large vibrant persian rugs sat atop rich wooden floors, and in the glow of the lamps light up around the room showed carvings in the wall, cherubs dancing amongst vines and roses. You shuddered a bit looking at them high above you in the molding. The innocence of them felt wrong in this place, malicious.

Charles directed you towards a small staircase that went halfway up the room, climbing while answering your question. “Ahh yes. Well it is technically. But I have been told that Rose Red might be reopening soon to the public. For tours, the occasional overnight ghost investigations.”

Once you two reached the landing, you saw the ornate dollhouse. Charles was able to turn it around on a turnstyle stand, and flicked a switch, lighting up the inside. Leaning down, you peeked inside in awe. It was a perfect replica of the house, the lower levels showed a large massive kitchen, sitting rooms, library, offices. Then up the stairs a ballroom of sorts, another library, bedrooms, and other odd rooms that seemed to serve no purpose.

“This is beautiful.” You muttered and straightened, clasping your hands behind your back to keep from picking up the matching furniture to look closer.

“My Great Aunt Ellen had this made for her daughter April, who was confined to Rose Red due to her bad health. She was a lonely child, her father sending her older brother off to boarding school. Wilford wanted little to do with his daughter. She had a deformity to her arm from birth. Withered. He would have disowned April, but Ellen wouldn't allow that. Upstairs, is a whole play room dedicated to her.” He pointed to a corner of the upstairs, which you peeked in to see a soft pink rose colored room filled with toys and dolls for a little girl.

“What was wrong with April, to cause her to have a withered arm?” you asked and Charles shrugged.

“It's said that Wilford wasn't faithful during his and Ellen's honeymoon, passed on a exotic disease to Ellen. She was ravaged in the years following their return to Rose Red. Which was also a honeymoon gift. He promised her anything she wanted. So the two years they were gone Rose Red was being built by one of the largest crew of men seen at the time. They even installed a train to bring in supplies from the harbor.”

Charles directed you down the stairs to go look out a window, and far off beyond what looked like a greenhouse was a large train, like a black ghost of the past, rusting away under the vines wrapped around the engine. Squinting you could have sworn you saw a couple of women following a lantern down the path. “Rose Red experienced the first deaths with that crew. The train was derailed, killing hundreds of men on the grounds at once.”

You shuddered while pulling away your gaze from the train. “How awful.”

“How awful indeed.” Charles nodded, and tilted his head. “Some believe that such a massive tragedy stains the land, maybe what brought the house to life. Come, some of the more interesting rooms are upstairs.”

Crossing the room for the massive grand staircase. “Do you actually believe that Charles?”

“No, no I believe something else powers this house. I have my theories.” Charles gave a secretive smile, the two of you started up the many flights of stairs. He gave a bit more history of the house, including the most recent events that officially shut the doors for good to all further investigations till now. “A team of psychics led by a college professor came in. There were four men and five women with varying abilities. One woman disappeared, one died when she refused to leave, and two men died on the property during that weekend.”

You pulled up a bit hearing this, closing your arms around yourself as if to protect you, like that could protect you. “Wait, should anyone even be here?” You said fearfully, and Charles looked back at you with a reassuring smile.

“I assure you the house is dormant. The state of New York wouldn't allow us to have a charity here unless it was perfectly safe. I myself have been here many times.” His voice was smooth and confident, letting you relax a bit. Giving a nervous chuckle, you eased back into holding onto the crook of his arm, his other hand patting yours. He dropped a gentle kiss on your cheek. “I will keep you safe, this is my family's home.”

After several flights of stairs, Charles led you into a massive hallway, doors lining each side. The symmetry while looking down the hall gave the illusion of it going on forever, you could just barely see the end of the hallway, or maybe it was getting smaller the further along it went. “This place is trippy.” You muttered to yourself but Charles happened to hear you.

“Yes, it was purposely designed by Ellen this way. She had her own way of doing things that didn't necessarily make sense to anyone else.” He studied doors as you two went along, your eyes kept roving up to see what looked like the ceiling slowly getting lower when he turned you towards a door. “Ahh, the first room on our tour of interest. As I said, Aunt Ellen, well she got creative when designing rooms.”

Opening a door, you went in and quickly paused as you weren’t entirely sure what you were looking at. Before you were upside down lights, standing upright, and covered in dust and cobwebs. What bothered you looking at them was that they should be hanging above you and that's when you tilted your head up to look above. Unlike any room you've been in before, desks were hanging above you, each one set up to have someone sitting at it as a chair was tucked in. Trays for papers, cups with pencils. It was just what you would expect to see in an office above you. Out of instinct you jumped back, half expecting it all to come crashing down, just to have yourself bmp into Charles' chest, making him chuckle as he embraced you gently. “Easy Dear, it's all safe.”

You took a few steps away from him with an apology, your head tilted back to look around. “What in the world?”

Charles, strolled along next to you, hands in his slacks, as he looked up at it all, chuckling. “Aunt Ellen's idea of a joke to her husband. He didn't seem to appreciate it as much as she did. Really it was just another room to show off to guests who came to visit.” You couldn't stop gaping at the details, wandering away from Charles who remained at the door. Even the walls had bookshelves filled with books, reading chairs above your head.

“I will be right outside, take your time.” Charles slipped out, leaving the door open while you paced over to get a better look. A lamp clicked on to your surprise right above your head, and what your eyes saw made you jump back and yelp. Sitting in the chair on the ceiling looked to be a woman in a cocktail dress, her head tilted back. Decaying grey skin peeling and black hollow sockets where eyes should be was matched with a gaping smile. “Come now dear, don't be shy. You are the newest guest right?” Her head tilted and creaked, giving you what was once probably a seductive smile, but now the lips were stretched too tight and split to show decayed teeth beyond them. You stumbled back into a chandelier that was on the floor, and fell to your backside. Looking back up, the lamp above you was back off, and the chair empty. “CHARLES!” You push off the floor and run to the door, wrenching it open to stumble back into the hallway that Charles catches you as you fall into him. “What's wrong?”

“I just saw- well I think I saw- there was a person, a woman sitting up there. But not a woman, she was rotting, old clothes.” Your words stumbled out as Charles straightened you back up.

“Sounds like you ran into one of Rose Reds resident ghosts, Deanna. A famous actress who went missing while freshening up during one of Ellen’s parties.”

You looked over your shoulder at the door and moved away from it. “Why is she here?”

Charles rubbed on your arm, to calm you a bit. “She never returned to the party that night. Local police came out and searched the entire grounds for days. But she never recovered. You're pretty shaken, do you wish to continue?”

You gave a chuckle and rubbed at your hands against your thighs to dispel the nervous energy. You should go, hell your heart was hammering so bad that you might just keel over any minute. No one was ever to see any actual ghosts on these things. Then that's when it occurred to you, side eyeing ‘Charles’. Sebastian was perfectly staying in character, that all this was. Actors, all of it. You almost laughed at yourself for getting caught up in the whole Halloween spook.

“Yes… I just. I cant believe there are actual ghosts here.” you played along with a shrug, brushing yourself off where you fell in the dusty room.

“Rose Red is full of many surprises.” Charles smiled in that charming way of his and offered his arm to yours. “Aunt Ellen, well she had a taste for the macabre. Holding frequent seances without her husband's knowledge, as he was away often. It's bound to attract some… interesting energy in a place like this.”

He seemed to be counting doors, and you were right at his side, willing your hammering heart to calm down. “You're not going to leave me alone again, right?” you worried your fingers into his sleeve, as if weaving him closer, to not let him go. Sure they were just actors playing a part, really good actors. You couldn't begin to guess how they got her to sit upside down like that on the ceiling, but there was nothing to be scared of.

“No, I'm surprised that the house is actually this active tonight. Maybe it's all the people passing through for the charity. But you're perfectly safe. I assure you.” Another door opened and you hesitated while stepping in.

The floor shimmered oddly to you at first, till you looked down and went stock still. You were standing on a mirror, the whole floor stretched out in a mirror, and all you could do was picture you stepping on it, and it shattered. Charles took several strides forward, and chuckled softly. “It's perfectly safe. This glass is made to be walked on.”

You take a few precautionary steps and chuckle. “Another one of Ellen's jokes?”

“Yes, she took great pleasure trying to come up with oddities to fill the house.”

You continue being mesmerized with the mirrored floor, watching as you walk across it. “Why? Why so many odd rooms?”

Charles hummed a bit, tipping back and forth on his heels to toes, watching as you sweep across the floor, grinning to yourself in such an innocent moment. “Well, after April disappeared, Ellen is said to have lost her mind. She claimed that Rose Red must never stop growing. It's in fact true that no one really knows how many rooms Rose Red has. At this point there are rooms like these, staircases that go to nowhere, hallways that narrow to where you have to crawl through. Doors that lead to the outside on these upper floors. It is easy to get turned around here. Rooms seemingly from nowhere appear still. They are not on any official floor plans.”

You gulp and shake your head. “It all sounds… so unreal. Rooms building themselves? Impossible.”

“One would think.” Charles chuckles. “But every time it is attempted to be documented, and then when it's double checked, nothing adds up. There’s missing rooms that seemed to have disappeared, only to have reappeared elsewhere, another staircase, the halls won't match up.”

You paused, still looking down at yourself in the mirror. “You said April disappeared?”

“Oh yes, she was playing in the main kitchen under the watch of one of the staff. The woman walked from the kitchen to collect something for just a moment. When she came back, April was gone, her beloved doll abandoned on the floor. After a search, again, the staff was brought to the police barracks. She was unable to leave after the questioning.”

“So they arrested her?” You start to feel cold, chills creeping up the back of your neck like a light touch, sweeping up your back and to the base of your hairline. You reached behind to rub at your neck uneasily.

Charles seemed to not notice your discomfort, sliding his gaze from you and around the room. “Oh no, they didn't arrest her. No, she was beaten to get a confession as to what she had done with April. Ellen swore her innocence, but Uncle Wilford… oh he paid them to get it out, by whatever means necessary. Her injuries were too severe. She ended up dying here once they finished with her and brought her back, another victim of Rose Red in a way, I suppose.”

You couldn't help the sadness that seemed to overwhelm you hearing the story.

“In fact this room also has its own tragedy. Wilford’s brother who also happened to be his business partner hung himself here. From… that light fixture actually.” Charles pointed up at it, but you were looking at its reflection, and the light fixture swayed, a rope tied around it. A heavy set man all blue colored hung at the end of the creaking rope, his feet twitching and his tongue bulging from his mouth. Your eyes shoot up to see nothing above Charles.

Charles himself gives you an odd look, and you look back in the mirror, he's still there, a swollen hand reaching out as if to grasp you.

Your own hand was shaking as you pointed down at the mirrored floor. “Right there! You don't see it Charles?!” Your finger points near his feet, in which he looks down and it all seems to disappear. At the same moment, it felt like a heavy rope slid around your neck, and tightened all in a second making you gasp. Your hands fly to your neck, trying to pry at the noose that isn't actually there. When you collapse to your knees, trying to drag in a breath, you happen to see a little girl, in various stages of decay, a withered arm clutching a doll against her chest waved at you from across the room near the door, and an older woman in the same state standing next to her with an arm around her shoulders, merely watching you struggle for air. Your vision started to go in and out, the burning in your lungs now first and foremost in your mind. Charles stepped into your view, kneeling down next to you and you focused on him.

“Hey! Hey! Y/N, what's wrong.” He yanked your hands away to check your neck, and you were suddenly able to take a gasp of air with a frightened sob, curling yourself in closer to him, and your arms going around his neck.

“Get me outta here please! I don't want to be in this house anymore.”

Charles moved to a stand, his hands grasping yours and pulled you to a stand. “Okay, we will end the tour here.” Hurrying you along, you both shoot into the hallway and turn to head back to the main stairway when at the end of the hallway, when the woman you had seen in the upside down room beckoned you two to her. “Come child, the parties this way, I just need to go freshen up, get you dressed for the party.”

You pulled up sharply in fear with a panicked scream, and Charles spun you around. “This way, there's another staircase at the end of the hall.”

Now your running with Charles to get away, every door and corner you two ran into became a blur. Once in a while a door would open, some nightmare of a person beckoning you to step in and join them, child like giggles echoes around you or hisses of your name just out of sight made you try to run faster, gasping for air as your lungs burned from running through the endless hallway. Charles was getting winded as well when he came to a staircase but that too was also blocked. This time with a wailing woman, her eyes rolled back to just the whites and clutching her purse to her chest, a dress looked like it had been shredded. Her skin was wrinkled and paper thin looking, what remained of her clothing something from a decade earlier. “I was just here to tour the house, can you show me the way out?” she screamed at you two, below her on the stairs were others, begging to be shown the way out. Now you froze, your mind in shock.

Charles yanked on your wrist to pull you away as you teetered on the edge of the stairs, continuing to another hallway.

“The servant's stairs are this way. They lead through the kitchen.” Charles rattled a door knob trying to get it to open, and you looked over his shoulder when there was a flash in your peripheral vision. The carpet in the hallway rolled as if something was racing underneath it, and of course, it was coming right for the two of you.

“Oh fuck, Charles, Hurry it up” Your hand grasps the handle to, yanking on it. “CHARLES IT'S COMING.” You scream, feeling the weight of panic crushing your chest whenever you looked up, whatever was coming for you was speeding up, flapping dust up from the carpet into the air and you screamed when it was almost on you. The door yanked open for you both to fall in, and slam it behind you, leaving you and Charles in the pitch dark.

“Oh god, fuck, get us out of here Sebastian.” dropping his characters name, you were over this fun house of hell crap they had made for the charity.

“What do you think I'm doing?!” He snapped, losing his cool control as he fisted his hand through his hair, taking deep dragging breaths. “Once you hit the kitchen, the door is to your left.” You both start racing down the stairs, trying to be as quick as possible without falling and when you reached that door, you yanked it open and sprinted into the room, expecting to see a stove, cupboards, tables, anything.

But that's not what you came into, you crashed into a whole other room. Confusion blurs your mind when you take in the attic like dusty interior. Spinning around, a couple times trying to make sense of it.

“AN ATTIC? WE WERE RUNNING DOWNSTAIRS, NOT UP!” You twist to go back out the door, but Charles slams it shut, and throws a bolt.

“Oh no Dear, were just where we need to be.” Charles smoothed his hair back, the panicked demeanor completely gone as he fixed his appearance. You backed away from him, licking your lips and panting with a wheeze.

“I d-d-d-don't understand why we are up here, how we got up here. I want to leave.” Your foot comes down as if you're about to throw a tantrum. “Now. I demand you to take me out of this, keep my money. I don't care Sebastian, I'm all done with this game.”

Charles crooks a brow, and smirks, striding in close in which you panic and back up further.

“As I told you before Sweetheart, I don't know who Sebastian is. And there is no leaving. Rose Red needs you, needs you to grow.”

“To grow? Your fucking crazy.” You start to look for another way out, and your back comes up to a large stained glass window. The famous stained glass Rose that adorned the front of the Manor.

“Yes, Ellen is still building, don't you see. She needs to feed, and as her great nephew it's my duty to keep her alive.”

He’s fucking lost it. Hollywood has snapped Sebastian's mind.

“Just let me go, I swear Seb-” His eyes snapped at you. “Charles… I won't say anything.”

“Auntie, do you want to let her go?” he asked with a cold grin. “You want to keep building Rose Red right? Keep building for April?”

Your eyes darted around trying to figure out who he was talking to. But there was seemingly no one there.

“I will donate more, give you money to keep building.” You felt around your pockets and pulled out your wallet, yanking out your billfold. “See a card.” tossing it at him in the delirious hopes that would appease him. He simply stepped over it.

“That won't work darling. Auntie Ellen, she needs other materials.” That cold touch you felt before in the mirror room, made you jolt, and you spun away from Charles to see the decaying little girl with her withered arm folded up against her chest.

“Play with me and baby?” the girl asked, her withered decayed hand shaking as she reached out to touch you.

You reared back and stumbled away to keep her from touching you, momentarily forgetting about Charles till you landed smack into his chest and a forearm locked around your neck. “Why are you scared of cousin April. She just wants to play?” He sneered into your ear, and you started clawing at his arm and trying to kick at him.

How did you get here, and maybe this was some crazy dream. Your gasping the more his arms tighten, giving one hard clawing motion on his face when you reach back and kick backwards to cause you both to tumble.

“You little bitch.” Charles twists to grab at you while you're crawling away, and you kick back one more time, catching him in the shoulder hard enough for him to let go of your foot.

“Fuck off Prick.” you scream, and yank yourself up, about to run towards the door. You're so close to going back into that hellish fun house when you are stopped right in your tracks, like hitting a wall.

The lady of the manor stood before you, long off white gown clinging to a corpse. She would have been beautiful once upon a time as your eyes roved her up and down, like all those pictures you saw when you googled Rose Red before your trip, but now she was a nightmare, you stuttering before her with a whimper. “Please... please let me go.”

“But Dear, Rose Red needs you.” Her voice had a tinkling sound to it, meant to soothe.

Her brown leathery skin that clung to a skeletal frame creaked when her bony clawed hands cupped your face in a loving gesture, and your terror filled eyes lifted to see her lip less mouth showed what appeared to be fangs. Pale dead eyes softened for a moment, until her claws sunk into your face, tearing through skin and muscle, piercing your skull and her mouth widened to a fang filled gaping rotten hole.

This is it, this is how I die. Your mind screamed in terror as she descended on you, your vision going dark, and your life just draining away. The pain fades, and your eyes roll back to see nothing. The last thing you will experience in your life, the overwhelming scent of fresh roses.

Charles wiped at his face when he came to, looking around the attic and seeing nothing more than your still body. Moving to get himself up, muttering to himself. “Fucking bitch, got my suit all dirty.” He walked past your body, and looked to see his aunt picking up a hammer, April standing next to her playing with her doll.

“I know, more souls for you to feed on Auntie.” He opened the door and made to go back down the stairs, his decaying aunt giving a slight nod in agreement.

Whistling as he safely strolled through Rose Red, he made his way out the front door, and down the walkway back towards the iron wrought gate. Once he returned, he leaned back against that stone wall, feet crossing at the angle and reaching up to pluck that red rose he had placed there earlier, twirling it back and forth.

Within ten minutes a couple young women strolled up to him, and he gave them a flirtatious smile, and held out the rose to one of them. “Ladies, welcome to Rose Red Manor, my family home and one of the most haunted sites in New York. My name is Charles Blackwood. Can I have your tickets please?”

#jshauntedhouse2020 #Rose Red's All Hollow Eve #charles blackwood #charles blackwood x reader #charles blackwood x you #amber writes #sweater writes #halloween #halloween 2020

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 3 years

Text

Parallels | Chapter 20

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist! | Parallels Masterlist

Characters: OC! Violet Grace Dawson, Luke Patterson, Julie Molina, Carrie Wilson, Bobby Wilson, Reggie Peters, Alex Mercer, Flynn nolastname, Willie nolastname, Nick Danforth-Evans, Dirty Candy

Guideline: Sunset Universe is the universe in which Sunset Curve is famous and Violet is friends with Carrie, Julie and Flynn. Candy Universe is the universe in which Dirty Candy is more famous and Sunset Curve has broken up.

Song(s) used: Perfect Harmony - Julie and The Phantoms

Warnings: Bit of cursing

Words: 2,777

The knock on Alex’s door startled him a little. He was getting ready for the day, not expecting anyone to knock on his door before nine in the morning. None of the boys were ever up that early.

“Come in?” he called, making it sound more like a question than a command.

The door slowly inched open, revealing a shy-looking Violet in the doorway. He wasn’t used to this version of Violet. He’d befriended the confident, sassy version of her. The one that just barged into rooms, owning her place on this earth.

“Vi, hey!” he greeted, a little surprised to see her there.

She chuckled slightly, nervously fiddling with her handbag. “I don’t know why I’m here, but something told me this morning that I should come and have a chat with you…”

Alex’s head tilted slightly.

“I had a dream about us talking about a song you wrote. It felt more like a memory than a dream, so I felt like I should… I don’t know… Come and talk to you?”

A chuckle erupted out of Alex. “I had a conversation with Violet before she left. I showed her a song I wrote.” He turned to his nightstand and grabbed the notebook he had left on it. Opening it on the right page, he showed it to Violet.

Something inside her shifted. She hadn’t worked on any music since getting back, but she felt as though Alex did need her help a little, as though he was asking her for some help. With more than just the song.

Her eyes skidded across the page. She could feel the hurt and melancholy seep off the page. She could only imagine what it would sound like with the music added to it.

“You should show this to the boys,” she whispered, amazed by the power this song held.

Alex shook his head. “I don’t think so. Not today, at least. Our manager is coming over soon for a meeting.”

“All the more reason to show them!” Violet exclaimed excitedly. This was the most joy she had felt since returning to this universe. “I know what this song is about, Alex. I know about Willie…”

The mention of the boy’s name caused Alex’ head to snap up in surprise. “How do you know about Willie?”

“You guys are actually in a relationship in the other universe,” she told him with a small smile and she could see the relief on his face. “Why’s it you’re not out in this universe?”

“Management,” he replied angrily. Violet decided not to push it. She could feel the frustration around the topic. “That’s why I can’t show this song today. Not when our manager is coming over.”

A burst of confidence coursed through Violet as she spoke the next words. “Do you mind if I sit in on this meeting?” It surprised herself a little, but she went with it anyway.

“Why?” Alex questioned, shutting his notebook and placing it back on his nightstand.

Violet shrugged. “I feel like it’s a good day for a meeting.”

While Alex went to wake up the boys, Violet occupied herself in the kitchen, getting some breakfast ready for them. In her mind, she went over the things she would say to their manager. There were a bunch of things she wanted to say. A bunch of which were things she knew the other Violet would say.

“What are you doing here?” Reggie asked when he entered the kitchen, a surprised smile on his face.

Violet snapped out of her thoughts, facing the boys that walked in. “Getting you guys prepped for this meeting with your manager,” she replied and handed them plates with stacks of pancakes.

The boys happily ate the breakfast she’d made, no questions asked. Not even when she joined them in the music room when their manager had arrived. All five of them settled on the couch while their manager sat on the armchair.

“Okay, I’m gonna cut to the chase. Here’s what we’re gonna do to promote your new album; a launch party at the mansion, like we’d done last time. After this, all four of you will be seen with at least one girl on your arm.” The boys stirred in their seats when the manager’s eyes landed on Violet. “But I can tell one of you is already on that.”

Violet couldn’t help but roll her eyes at him. “Seriously?” she spoke up, surprising everyone in the room, including herself.

“Excuse me?” The manager challenged.

“I’m gonna cut to the chase,” she started, mimicking the boss himself, “Here’s what we’re gonna do for the promotion of their next album;” she raised her voice a little when saying the next words, “actual promotion of the album.”

“I’m sorry?” he scoffed.

“Yeah, you should be sorry.” Violet’s heart started beating faster as she continued. “You’ve been living off these boys’ lives without asking them what they wanted. They wanna make music. They wanna love who they wanna love without any restrictions. They wanna live their lives and be them. Authentically. Unapologetically.”

The boys stared at Violet with wide eyes and surprised smiles. This was the Violet they had come to know. The Violet that had lived here over the summer. Had they switched again without them even noticing?

“I’m sorry but who are you to tell me how to run my business?”

Violet stood up from her spot on the couch next to Alex. “I’m Violet Grace Dawson, and I’m gonna need you to step the fuck up and let these boys do whatever they wanna do. Let them make the music they wanna make. Let them love who they wanna. It’s not gonna affect their music or their success. If anything, them being true to themselves will attract even more people because they’re gonna be able to identify themselves with them. The whole world is queer, why not let this band be queer?!”

“It’s been proven that straight white men have more success than the queer,” the manager objected. “And what are you gonna do against me, huh? Little girl?”

Violet scoffed. “If you’re not gonna be a good manager to them–” she thought about what she was gonna say next and eventually settled on, “I’m gonna do it myself!”

The man let out a bitter laugh. “As if a child like you would ever be able to manage a band like this one!”

“This child has her connections. My mother happens to be a lawyer and my father is a manager himself. Used to be pretty good in this game. So either you step the fuck up or I’m gonna get this band the manager they deserve!”

Her face had gone beet red, her hands clammy and her heart was pounding. That was exhilarating and scary at the same time. But the payoff was more than worth it. The manager got up from his chair, regarded Violet once more before turning to the boys.

“You’re fired,” he said to them, but all four of them shook their heads.

“You can’t fire us,” Luke said and got up as well. “Because we’re firing you.”

Everyone held their breath as the guy opened his mouth to say something, then closed it and turned to leave the room. A collective sigh echoed off the walls before the gang erupted into cheers while wrapping Violet up into a group hug.

“Did you switch places with the other Violet again?!” Bobby questioned excitedly.

Violet giggled. “Nope, still me… Gosh that was scary!”

“Your parents really can help us though, right?” Reggie queried anxiously.

“Obviously. My dad owns a chain of supermarkets, but he used to be a music manager back in his days. I’m sure if he knew he had a band as great as this one, he’d get back to that world asap!”

“You’re amazing,” Luke told her, shaking his head.

“Thanks for doing this for us, Vi,” said Alex.

She smiled at him. “Don’t miss the gun at the starting line.”

While the boys tried to figure out a way to switch the two Violets back, the girl herself kept her mind preoccupied with Dirty Candy rehearsals. Though she wasn't sure what to think of the new route the band was going into, especially since she had no clue how to play the drums.

She asked the girls to focus on choreography right now, stalling every possible instrument-rehearsal for as long as she could. Thankfully, Carrie helped her out and came up with new excuses every single day.

“Are you okay?” Carrie asked Violet at the end of the Dirty Candy rehearsal.

“Yeah,” Violet breathed out, “I’m really feeling it today, you know? Keeps my mind off of things.”

Carrie knew what she meant by ‘things’. It was Luke. She knew that if Violet stopped, she’d be thinking of the boy she had fallen in love with. The boy from the alternate universe.

“Should we try and find a way to get you back?” Carrie then asked. “We did it once, I’m sure we can do it a second time? Which is technically a third since the first was accidental…” Carrie’s blabbing reminded Violet of other Carrie. She was this intense, this excitable.

“I’m sure that, if the universe wants me back, it’ll do its job.”

Violet knew there was nothing she could do to switch them back. The universe had to figure this one out by itself and all she had to do was wait. Wait and wait and write. That same night, she picked up a pen and her notebook.

“Don’t blink, no I don’t wanna miss it One thing and it’s back to the beginning ‘cause everything is rushing in fast Keep holding on, never look back And it’s one-two-three-four times That I’ll try for one more night Light a fire in my eyes I’m going out of my mind”

Then the melody in her mind switched, as though someone had switched the radio station. For a second, she heard Luke singing. She heard his voice, singing these words to her that she had never heard before. Words that were meant for her to hear. Words she needed to hear.

Not wanting to forget those words, she flipped through to an empty page and started jotting them down while her heart bled and beat faster at the same time. These were Luke’s words. She could feel it. This was from him, to her.

This was the perfect harmony.

After Reggie, Alex and Bobby had left the rehearsal space, Luke and Violet were the last ones left. There was a comfortable silence wrapped around them as they sat on the couches, basking in each other’s company.

“How did you do that?” he asked, “With the manager? Back in the day, you barely dared to say ‘hello’ to strangers, let alone give off on our manager like that.”

Violet shrugged, “I may have learned a thing or two about confidence from Carrie and Luke – the alternate universe versions of you.”

Luke couldn’t help but smile at that. “If you could, would you wanna go back?”

The question had taken Violet aback a little. Would she want to go back? She did miss Carrie and Bobby’s bickering. She missed Reggie’s smart ass and Alex’s sass. She even missed Dirty Candy a little.

She missed Luke. More than anything.

“If I could, yes…” Luke tilted his head slightly, urging her to elaborate. “I felt right, there, you know? Like a fish in water. That was my place, my home. More so than this has ever been…” Luke shot her a tight-lipped smile. “But there’s no way I’m ever gonna be able to get back.”

There was nothing Luke could say to that. He wanted to help her. Somehow. Someway. If it would mean this Violet could be happy. If it would mean he’d get his Violet back. But there was nothing he could do about that. All he could do was make this universe as bearable as possible for this Violet.

“I started writing a song, by the way,” Luke announced and got up to retrieve his songbook from the piano wing. He opened it to the right page and showed it to her. At first glance, Violet could tell this was a song he’d written with Violet in his mind.

Something this Violet had wanted him to do for years.

Violet got up from the couch and made her way to the piano. She sat down and started playing the keys, a sweet melody floating out of the majestic instrument. Her eyes quickly found Luke’s, urging him to start singing.

“Step into my world Bittersweet love story about a girl Shook me to the core Voice like an angel, I've never heard before”

Violet smiled to herself. Who’d have thought that this guy, whom she was convinced was the biggest jerk on the planet, would write this song for a girl? A version of herself. A better, more confident version of herself. But that was something she needed to shake off.

She took the next verse, just to preoccupy her own mind with something other than her alternate self.

“Here in front of me Shining so much brighter than I have ever seen Life can be so mean But when he goes I know he doesn't leave”

Their voices blended together on the chorus and it reminded them both of each other’s parallel self. Though their personalities were completely different, their voices still sounded the same. Their voices still worked so well together.

“The truth is finally breaking through Two worlds collide when I'm with you Our voices rise and soar so high We come to life when we're In perfect harmony”

“Whoa, whoa Perfect harmony Whoa, whoa Perfect harmony”

Luke grabbed Violet’s hands, pulling her up from the piano stool and guiding her towards the middle of the rehearsal space whilst they alternated lines.

“You set me free”

“You and me together is more than chemistry”

Holding her hands close to him, the two sang to each other, almost forgetting this wasn’t the song for the two of them, but rather for their alternate selves.

“Love me as I am I'll hold your music here inside my hands”

“We say we're friends, we play pretend You're more to me, we're everything Our voices rise and soar so high We come to life when we're In perfect harmony”

“I wrote a song,” Violet had told Luke. She had written a song and now the two of them were dancing together. As though they’d forgotten all about the parallel universes and they were singing to the person they had fallen in love with over the past few months.

“Whoa, whoa Perfect harmony Whoa, whoa Perfect harmony”

It felt so natural, dancing and singing together. Like they had been doing it for years.

Luke then stopped, holding her hands in front of him as they sang the bridge together. They were all smiles and glistening eyes. In a dream-like state, hoping their parallel selves would feel what they were feeling.

“I feel your rhythm in my heart, yeah You are my brightest, burning star, whoa-whoa I never knew a love so real (so real) We're heaven on Earth, melody and words And when we are together we're In perfect harmony”

Luke then swayed her to the left, then to the right. She twirled and they shuffled along to the music in their heads.

“Whoa, whoa Perfect harmony Whoa, whoa”

Violet almost felt like they were in Dirty Dancing, her favorite film, and they were having a moment like Johnny and Baby. Intimate. Sensational. Craving the wrong person.

“We say we're friends We play pretend You're more to me We create”

Luke had twirled her inwards before twirling her outwards, letting her turn and turn and turn until she returned to him from the other side.

“a perfect harmony”

The girl that had just been in his arms seconds ago, had gone. She’d disappeared and instead, reappeared on the other side. He knew right then and there that it wasn’t the same girl. He knew who he had caught in his arms.

“Violet,” he whispered, looking into those brown orbs he’d come to love. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

The girl looked around her. Seconds ago, she was dancing with Luke in the rehearsal space in Beverly Hills. Now, she found herself in Luke’s arms in Julie’s garage. She was back. She was home.

“I’m home,” she whispered before Luke kissed her. Sweetly. Hungrily. Lovingly.

She was back home. They managed to switch them back. Once more.

To the universe where she felt most herself.

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TAGLIST | MASTERLIST | PARALLELS MASTERLIST

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tintinwrites · 4 years

Text

dollface | Mob Boss!Poe Dameron x Reader

A/N: I mentioned this a bit ago and you guys loved itttttttttt and I was very inspired to write it and I hope it’s hot like I intended! Best read when listening to 20′s jazz and I’m willing to write a part two if you ask nicely. If you need to know what any of the slang means then please let me know. Tagging @bisexual-space-slut.

Rating: Hard T/Soft M

Warning: Naughty words. Smoking. Consumption of alcohol obvs. Some might imply too much 1920′s slang. Sexual tension. Sexual references.

Word count: 1,245, apparently!!

Summary: It’s the prohibition era and you’re a flapper who smuggles alcohol into a speakeasy frequented by local mob boss, Poe Dameron. You’re not sure what he means when he says you’re his favorite, but you kind of understand since he’s your favorite too.

GIF credit: I have no idea, but it’s not mine. If anyone knows who made this, please let me know!

Tags: Open if you want a part two!

----------------------------

The brick stairs leading down to the speakeasy were wet from the evening rain that had since rolled away, but it didn’t stop young friends and couples from giddily stepping down them in the cover of night.

Jolting music could be heard very faintly outside the thick door that lead in, clearly doing its job of muffling when people would walk in and immediately have the sound of their shoes or their partner drowned out by the loud, bouncing saxophones, pianos, trumpets, and trombones playing on the dimly lit stage.

A haze of smoke clung almost to the ceiling as women made coquettish eyes at the men who were fitting new cigarettes into their holders and lighting it for them.

One woman who must have arrived moments earlier was surrounded by a group of young men, all cheering when she lifted her suspiciously bulky dress to show she had containers of bottles of alcohol strapped to herself and grabbing two bottles each, turning to fill people’s glasses happily.

Poe made his way through the sea of girls with curled bobs and men with their sleeves rolled up to their elbows, smiling at the drunken joy though his eyes scanned the crowd for someone in particular.

His lips tugged down into a slight frown when he didn’t spot among the people chatting or dancing.

Sometimes he thought you’d find a nice fella that made you want to leave this life of sneaking booze into a joint like this, but then he’d recall when he questioned how much you enjoyed this and you told him, “You sap. I’ve never been in love and I never intend to be.”

But maybe you did fall in love unintentionally, he thought as he removed his jacket and rolled his sleeves up, sitting on his usual couch in the corner.

“If it ain’t the cat’s pajamas himself,” that voice and its sultry lilt he’d only ever heard reserved for him brought an easy grin to his face as he looked up at your approaching figure.

“I was wondering where my favorite had gone off to, dollface.” He loved the confused wrinkling of your nose whenever he called you that and the pout when he would change the subject the moment you asked favorite what.

“There were a few bottles of hooch I needed to put behind the bar for Maz.”

“You didn’t save any for me?”

Those full lips and long, gorgeous lashes of his would make any woman or even man worth their salt melt on the spot, and you were right there with them as you slowly slid yourself onto his knee. “I always save a little for you, baby.”

Your hand moved on top of his, guiding it to your leg where you had him slowly push your dress up, fringe tickling your knees then your thighs as his fingers moved underneath.

His darkened eyes stayed on yours as his fingertips brushed over the garter around your upper thigh, letting himself take time on the sensitive skin there as he tugged a small metal flask from its place; his hand trailed up a little as he pulled it all the way out and his knuckles ran over the center of your bloomers.

He slowly dragged his hand away, eyebrow quirking slightly when you leaned into his touch, and you watched him open the flask with your eyes hooded.

“Ladies first,” he murmured, holding it up to you and watching as you wrapped your lips around the mouth of it to take a large swig.

“The rest is yours.” Of course he had no problem downing the rest of the liquor.

An errant curl fell from his slicked back hair when he tilted his head back down and you gently brushed it back up with the rest.

He turned his head to press his nose against your wrist, inhaling the scents of smoke and soap and perfume and you.

“Cigarette,” you huffed softly, plucking a forgotten pack and some matches off the table behind you.

“Please, doll.” He didn’t smoke often, but the place was full of it anyway and there wasn’t much he would deny from you.

Besides, you put that cigarette between your pretty painted lips and struck a match with such grace, lighting it almost effortlessly.

You puffed it a couple times then took it out of your mouth to put it in his, where he took a long drag and gripped it between his index and middle finger to hold it.

The smoke cleared to show you looking at him with the same coquettish eyes those other girls batted at men they found to be keen, though yours were prettier in his honest opinion.

You wiggled further into his lap and his eyes fluttered shut for only a moment at the delightful feeling of you moving between his legs like you were, quickly taking another drag.

“Your hand didn’t have to stop.” You moved his free hand back to your thigh again, pushing it up your dress slowly.

“You think?” This was something he’d wanted from the moment he laid eyes on you, but he’d waited for you to bring up the obvious chemistry that always seemed to pull taut when the two of you interacted.

You leaned in closer, fingers running up and down underneath his suspenders, looking up at him through your lashes.

His eyes darted from yours to your lips, his own inching nearer.

“Boss.” The sound of Snap’s voice had him rearing back in an instant, jostling you in his lap slightly.

“I’m a little preoccupied,” he growled.

The man leaned down to whisper information into his ear and you respectfully cast your eyes to your lap to show you weren’t listening.

His furrowed brow slowly smoothed though not in ease, his eyes now darkened in frustration at the information that one of his men had betrayed him.

“Fuck.” And some of his frustration had to do with the tightness in his pants and the beautiful girl in his lap that he now couldn’t enjoy.

“Go ahead,” you whispered, pushing back that one curl again with a smile as it fell from his movements.

“Understand I don’t wanna do this, baby.” His eyes were pleading; the line of work he was in was no secret to anyone let alone you.

“I understand.” Of course you did and you knew this wasn’t an insult against you, but rather a necessity of his career.

He pressed his head to yours, then leaned over to put out his cigarette and gently slid you from his lap to the spot on the couch next to him.

You handed his suit jacket to him sweetly and watched him shrug it on with a smile on your lips but disappointment in your pretty eyes.

It broke his heart and he would’ve killed the guy who put that look there if it hadn’t been him.

Maybe he could yell at Snap for this a little later.

He nodded for the other man to go get the car ready, turning to you and reaching down to grasp your chin in the commanding way you liked without him being rough enough to hurt you.

“Maybe next time, dollface?” He watched your eyelashes flutter slightly, leaning into his touch like a sweet kitten.

“You know where to find me,” you hummed, moving forward with his hand until he released you and you were left to watch him walk out the door.

#poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x reader #star wars imagine #poe dameron fic

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vegalocity · 3 years

Text

Seperated (Red Groom AU)

The part of the Albino will now be played by -drumroll- Jin and Yin is that even a question? of course its Jin and Yin.

Also i rewatched this sequence a few times to get the dialogue right and... Am I on glue or are Humperdink and Count Rugen like... kinda into eachother?

Xiaotian awoke with pain. He pulled a hiss between his teeth as a rag—no doubt drenched with cleaning fluids for how much it stung—was pressed to his shoulder. The room he was in was dim when he forced his eyes open, but soon his gaze was met with the red eyes of a silver skinned demon.

“Who-” he croaked. “Where am I?”

“The pit of despair.” The demon hissed, his voice raspy and dim, it reminded Xiaotian of the whispers of a ghost. On some level it made him nervous. “Don't even think-”

“Yin, you gotta stay away from the guy while he's still injured, brother. You sound like a nightmare warmed over.” a far more normal voice made itself known, and Xiaotian watched a golden demon that other than the change in coloration seemed near identical to the silver one entered his vision.

“But Jin I-” The silver demon, Yin apparently, gasped. “Come on, I NEVER get to be the ominous assistant!”

“You're still ill, If you mess up the experiment by getting the prisoner sick Macaque is gonna ACTUALLY kill you, and I don't wanna be an only child.”

Yin huffed and puffed.

“Maybe he should go home.” Xiaotian offered weakly. Less guards meant less people to fight while he escaped after all.

“Pssh!” the gold brother, Jin apparently, waved a hand. “Like we'd EVER- Nah he's just gotta leave prisoner interactions to me. Speaking of!” He snagged the clean rag from his brother's hand. “You'd rather be treated by the one that ISN'T actively sick right now, wouldn't ya, prisoner?”

Yin let out a series of sneezes that nearly seemed to knock him off his feet. So Xiaotian was thankful when he finally shrugged and went over to a worktable while Jin leaned over and went to applying the cleaning fluid on his wound.

“Like my brother was saying though, don't even think to try and escape. Those chains could hold down the Monkey King, they're that strong.” The irony of that statement was lost on Jin, Xiaotian hadn't been in his monkey disguise when they'd captured him, it was unlikely anyone knew of his ruse. Even Red Son while surrendering (his heart still hurt at the memory of defeat in his voice) had been nonspecific about WHAT nearby mountain was his. “And the entrance is like, super secret too, like top secret. Only the Boss, the Prince, and my brother and I know where it is, and Yin didn't even pay attention when we were being shown the way.”

“It was boring!” Yin defended himself from across the room. “You were barely paying attention yourself!” Jin turned around and likely made an ugly face at his brother, whom quickly returned it with one of his own, before he turned back to Xiaotian.

“You're gonna die down here my good fellow.”

“Then why heal my wounds?”

“I 'unno. The boss tells us he likes his test subjects in tip tops before he messes them up.”

“We generally leave between 'experiments'” Yin added on, before letting out a loud grunt as he moved some heavy looking contraption across the area. “He's like.... Super creepy when he gets into it. Gives Jin the willies.”

“Honestly there are some times when I can't remember why we even work for him.” Jin agreed with a visible shudder and a shake of his head.

“Cuz mother said she would force us out of the house if we didn't find work, and he pays well.”

“Oh yeah, that.”

He wasn't paying much attention to the brother's banter, he'd already put together what matters.

“So they're going to torture me down here?” Jin hummed in agreement as he continued to clean him up of left over blood. “I can handle torture.”

Yin let out a raspy laugh that was somehow less disturbing than the audible shudder that went up Jin's spine.

“Look, my man, you're new here, you don't know.” There was something close to pity in Jin's voice and it almost immediately set off every alert in Xiaotian's nervous system. “that machine they rig people up to, it's no joke. We only heard the damn thing a few times and it's really, REALLY bad.”

“I still get nightmares!” Yin agreed.

But then Jin had finished cleaning up his wounds and went over to aid his brother in whatever he was doing moving things around, leaving Xiaotian to his thoughts.

Something so bad that it made demons recoil in fright? What sort of horror display was he in for? That Six-Eared Macaque did seem the sadistic type, but what did that entail?

He had to get out of here. He tested the chains, but no dice, his arm was still injured though the bleeding had stalled, and he was strapped down with both hands nearer his waist than his head so he couldn't even try to summon some backup in the form of a clone. And his shapeshifting was still rudimentary at best, he couldn't do any forms that would change his size quite yet and that was the one thing that could help him break out of here!

He'd have to stay put for just a little longer at least until he could figure something out.

At this point the Prince wasn't likely to kill Red Son until they were already married, and though his heart ached at the idea of his love being forced to play along with that cruel beast's games until he found a way around it, or managed to escape on his own—as he knew that he would at this point. Now that he knew that Red Son's heart had remained true, and Red Son knew he was alive, he knew his love would stop at nothing to get out of this arrangement and find him again, he was far too clever to simply go along with this and hope that those mercenaries were wrong or deceitful—he could find him on his own.

He knew he would. Red Son was far too intelligent for anything else.

–

Within three days time the Prince's father had died. And on that very night he and Red Son were married.

It was the day after the ceremony and Red Son, now a married man, was to be prepared not to be a demon king in his own right like he'd always assumed but-

–

“What? That's not right! Grandpa you're telling the story wrong!”

“What do you mean, little one?”

“Red Son doesn't marry the prince he marries Xiaotian! He's his true love not the prince!”

“But Red Son turned himself in to the Prince to save Xiaotian's life, remember?”

“But! But after the Forest-! And everything Xiaotian did to get back and save him from the mercenaries-! After everything he did he doesn't even get to marry him in the end?! That's so unfair!”

“Whoever said life was fair? Where'd it ever get written down that life was fair?”

“B-But! But! Xiaotian is still in the Pit of Despair! He needs Red Son to save him like he saved him! ”

“You wanna know how this ends or not?”

“...Yes...”

“Thought so. No more interruptions, alright? Where was I...-”

–

-It was the day after the ceremony and Red Son, now a married man, was to be prepared not to be a demon king in his own right like he'd always assumed but the husband of another. And as such he didn't know his new court anywhere near as intimately as he did his own back home. So he was taken to oversee the goings on of this court and acquaint himself with the advisers and nobles within.

He was dressed now not in the warm tones that his family was known for, but the cool pale purples of his husband's own court and in his own opinion, it clashed horribly with his hair, if it were a darker purple maybe, but this simply wasn't a good shade for him.

But that was just one in a long, long line of things that were wrong about this situation, so he did his best to appear the unflappable demon prince he once was.

Examining the court before him he could only compare it to the one he knew back home, and in many ways he found it much the same. The same types of sniveling yes-men, the same kinds of conniving power-seekers, and the same sort of surprisingly wise elders.

And then just three steps away from him, one of the advisers snickered. A cruel, twisted sound, a mocking laugh.

Red Son... was on a bit of a hair trigger for obvious reasons and whirled around at the noise, approaching the previously assumed sniveling coward, and feeling his hair light aflame behind him.

“Is there a problem?” He tried to make his voice as unshaken as possible, but the rage that was so quick to boil in his gut was difficult to contain.

“Oh no, your highness-” the adviser gave an melodramatic mocking bow. “No problems here, I simply find it funny how everyone else here seems to think you worth our respect!” The Demon loosed another gale of laughter and didn't seem the least bit frightened when Red Son reached forward and grabbed him by the collar. He didn't even seem surprised.

“What was that, you infernal garbage?!”

“The only garbage here is you, Red Son!” The Demon howled with laughter, before looking among his fellows, trying to gain support. “Can you all even believe it? This cold hearted princeling had true love in his hands and he let it go!” His gut dropped. “After everything Xiaotian did for you! To come back to find you! To save you and keep you alive when you couldn't even summon a candle's worth of flame in that forest and you repaid him by betraying him!”

The demon slipped from his slack grasp as he chortled, and Red Son found his limbs very weak indeed, his anger replaced by a cold, sick feeling.

“They were- He was going to kill Xiaotian, I had to-”

“Oathbreaker! Xioatian lives and you marry another! You had love in your hands and you treated it like garbage!” The demon leaned against the side of another adviser, whom seemed frozen in place. Much like how Red Son felt.

“Because that's what you are your highness! Garbage! Prince of all refuse!” The Demon shook his neighbor's shoulder. “Bow to him if you want! Go ahead! Bow to the prince of all slime! The prince of all filth! Prince of all putrescence!” His laughter never once abated, and when the demon took a step toward Red Son, he instinctively backed away.

“An oathbreaking fool! That's what you are!”

“Muck! Filth! Coward!”

His laughter was piercing.

Red Son awoke with a startle, heart thumping in his chest and a cold sweat across his brow. The King was still alive and the wedding was ten days away, yet his nightmares were getting worse. And on this morning he came to one conclusion:

“I cannot afford to bide time any longer.”

–

“See? I told you he'd never marry that rotten prince!”

“Yes you're very smart, shut up.”

–

As quick as he possibly could he changed from his sleep shirt into proper attire and began to plan his escape. His betrothed would attempt his life the second he let it slip that he knew of his plans, so he had to be quick, he had to be clever, and above all, he had to be sneaky.

He didn't know why his betrothed had decided to assume sincerity, but since he wasn't dead yet he could only guess that he was waiting until the wedding night to enact his plan and frame whoever he wanted to frame for Red Son's 'assassination'.

So he had ten days. Child's play, he could do it in three, tops.

The hard part would be keeping a low enough profile until he made it to Flower Fruit Mountain to evade whatever hunters his soon to be ex-fiance would send after him. How ironic, he thought to himself, that it was now his turn to make an impossible death defying escape and make his way back to his love.

He didn't have much by way of sewing skills, but the wardrobe of the rooms he was given had no mags with which to carry his supplies, so he had to make do with a spare blanket and what little he knew of hemming fabric until something resembling a traveling pack was made and ready.

It was about then that the prince made summons for him.

Red Son turned over what to do or say in his head as he approached the sitting room, and came to the conclusion that if he acted like he was alright with all of this then he would arouse suspicion. Red Son was well known for his temper, and he'd made it obvious that he had a love in Xiaotian. Though he'd willingly given himself up for his safety, the fact of the matter was that the prince had been willing to fight and hurt him, and if Red Son didn't already have plans to run then that would mean he'd be furious.

So he held himself as stiffly as possible and didn't hold back his scowl when the prince came into view.

“Ah! Beloved! How wonderful to see you!”

The prince seemed unshaken by Red Son's fury and remained unwavering as he stiffly marched over and sat across from him. It occurred to Red Son as he sat that the prince would likely expect him to try and call the wedding off at least once. He would do everything in his power to either try and convince Red Son to take back his announcement (he wouldn't be able to) or restrain him to the palace until he could force him to acquiesce.

“I refuse to lie to myself any longer.” He spoke only then, His betrothed's brow raised in curiosity. “I love Xiaotian, I have since long before my parents ever reached out to yours, and I always will.”

If anything this might be an interesting way to see if he's going to play along or not. “If I am forced to marry you in ten days you must understand that on the eleventh I will be dead.” There, if he set the assumed date afterward, then the Prince wouldn't think that he was moving the timetable of his own plans up-

“I could never cause you such greif.” He said after a sigh. “Consider the wedding off.”

He knew this was a ploy, he had a plan of some kind. But Still Red Son felt the tight clamps pressed to his chest loosen at the words being spoken aloud.

“You returned this 'Xiaotian' to his mountain?” The prince turned halfway and Red Son was startled to see the macaque standing in the shadows, he hadn't even seen him when he'd entered!

“I did.”

“Then we'll send a messenger for him.” They wouldn't. They'd sent Xiaotian back to Flower Fruit Mountain no doubt, lest they risked starting conflict with his own army. However Red Son knew the prince had no problems at all lying to him. Any messenger he oversaw a letter being handed off to would likely get out of sight and shred the note to bits before lying low for a time and returning. “But, Beloved, Can you be sure that he'd still take you back?”

The laughter of the demon in his dream echoed in the back of his mind. “What do you mean?”

“I simply mean that, it was you who did the leaving back in the forest.” Red Son couldn't fight back a flinch at the reminder. “And... kidnappers aren't exactly well known to keep their word.” Thankfully he didn't need to fake outrage.

“He didn't kidnap me!”

“Well... then may I suggest a deal?” The prince considered his tea before taking a sip. “How about this; I'll send my four fastest messengers along different routes to your Xiaotian's mountain, and you'll write four separate letters explaining the situation for them to deliver. To decrease the likeliness of the message getting lost due to bandits and the like. Your Xiaotian is sure to receive at least one of them by that. And if he accepts you back, then good fortune to you both.”

The Prince's brow furrowed with worry, and once again he reached out to try and take Red Son's hand. He pulled his hands back. “But if he doesn't, If your love decides this was one betrayal too many, then please at least consider me as an alternative to suicide.”

He was trying to get him to doubt himself, to doubt Xiaotian. Trying to put something like that in the back of his head so he'd be less convicted when he had some notary of some kind fake a letter of rejection.

“Are we agreed?”

“We are.”

He'd be gone in a few days time anyway. And if the prince was right, if Xiaotian did feel rejected and betrayed, and angry, and if he somehow did decide that he didn't want him back...

...then he'd just have to win his heart again. If that were the case it may be difficult, he hadn't exactly gone chasing him all that time ago in the Inn, He wasn't sure if he knew how. But he'd try, whatever it took.

He just had to get out of here first.

–

“You know, now that I've spent a time with the prince, I can see why so many other demon suitors were banging down his door for so long. A mote too angry for my own taste, but even for a more human-looking demon he's not too bad on the eyes.”

“Don't go falling in love with my groom Macaque. I'll not have you ruining my plans.”

“Pff! No worries there, highness.”

“...You know, when I'd hired the Spider Queen and her ilk to kill him on their way to my mountain I thought THAT was a work of genius, but it'll be so much more moving to cut his head off on our wedding night myself I do think.”

“His parents will be furious.”

“Especially once I blame the Monkey King when I send word to them about it! They'll insist on going to war and our combined forces will finally claim that eyesore of a mountain.”

“It's going to be a bloodbath.”

“Which I'm sure YOU'LL enjoy my six-eared friend.”

“Now.. where is that secret knot... damn thing's always changing locations I swear- Ah... Are you coming down? Xiaotian regained his strength, I'm going to be starting him on the machine tonight.”

“Macaque, You know how much I love watching you work; but I've two anniversaries for different alliances to plan the celebrations of, My wedding to arrange, my husband to murder, and the Monkey King to frame for it, I'm swamped!”

“Get some rest my prince. If you haven't got your health, you haven't got anything.”

“I hate this, I hate this, I hate this.” Jin was mumbling over and over as he and Yin rolled the slab of wood Xiaotian had been strapped to this whole time across the ground, and up against an unmoving water wheel.

“By all means, quit if it upsets you so.” The Six Eared Macaque stated idly, and out of the corner of his eye Xiaotian could see him scribbling something down, some sort of notation.

“He doesn't mean that.” Yin assured his brother as he forced Xiaotian this way and that, tightening leather straps to his chest and head. Hollowed out iron funnels were affixed to small holes in the straps, the cone sides pressed to his skin while the nozzles were being slowly attached to a set of copper tubes. “He'd be without any assistants that can keep their mouths shut without us.”

He couldn't move with these stupid straps all up and down his body—well... he already couldn't move MUCH, but the lack of what little mobility he'd had from there lost further was upsetting.

“Got back to work you miscreants.” The macaque snapped before standing and approaching him. When those eerie purple eyes were peering down at him Xiaotian had the uncanniest of feelings that he was trying to look like the Monkey King. Like some sort of crazy fan that wanted to steal his life or something. No wonder he hadn't realized that Xiaotian was actually disguising himself as such with Sun Wukong's blessing.

“Lovely machine isn't it? Been working on it for a solid century now.” He patted the strange device affectionately, as though it were a beloved pet. “You probably know by now your 'love' isn't the only scientific mind among our kind. But where he's interested in any field of study he can get his hands on I'm more interested in... shall we say... the study of pain.”

“Made my living stealing other people's powers for my own ya see, and it's been fun, but it's maybe getting a bit old too. Because I've been doing that, basically my whole life, and I kinda wanted to change it up. So I decided to see how much I can make someone hurt. I'm still testing this thing out mind you, so...Be honest with how it feels, alright? It's for posterity's sake.

“Now, this being our first try, I'll ease you into it. We'll start on the first setting.”

Xiaotian tensed, steeling himself over for whatever pain would follow.

The Macaque pulled the lever-

The machine whirled to life-

And there was pain.

#Spicynoodleshipping #MK Red Son #Qi Xiaotian #MK Demon Brothers #Six Eared Macaque #Vega writes stories too #Princess Bride AU #red groom au

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