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angelsanarchy · 19 hours

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Fever Dreams: Mike x Y/N One Shot Series PRT 13

Tagging: @icarus-star @chainsawgvtsfvck @romanroyapoligist @liquidsmoothdomme @madamemaximoff06 @drazenka@blacksoul-27 @444rockstargf @kappasbbgirl @luzclarita57 @tempt-ress @starry-eyed-wild-child

Mike walked into the garage the next day with what can only be described as a shit eating grin, coffee in his hand and strutting like he had a secret that no one else knew. Leff looked at him with disdain.

"What? You get blown or something?" He asked as Mike plopped down in the chair.

"Can't I just have a good morning?" Mike challenged making Leff narrow his gaze at him.

"This isn't the girl scouts, wipe that gay ass grin off your face. We've got drops offs to do today." Leff opened the safe that sat on the desk and started pulling out guns. The sound of the door opening made Mike look over towards it and Leff just sighed.

"You're late." He called out.

"Seriously? Send a write up to HR." Y/n rolled her eyes as she crossed the garage and took Mike's coffee out of his hand to sip. Mike made no move to complain and Leff scrunched his face.

"You thinking swapping spit with him is a good idea?" Leff pointed out and Y/n shrugged.

"I'm not tonging his balls Leff. It's a fucking coffee cup." Y/n shot back making Mike chuckle.

"I mean, if that's on the menu-" Mike started to say but before Y/n could hit his arm, Leff slammed his drawer shut.

"Hold the fuck up...you two...you haven't...you aren't fucking around are you because I specifically told you both-"

"Jesus Leff is there actual work to be done today or are you cock watching your nephew today? I've got bills to pay and I'm not trying to keep having this conversation with you." Y/n crossed her arms over her chest. They both stood at an impasse and Mike just pushed up from the chair and snatched one of the guns from the desk.

"I'll be in the car..." He said going to tuck the fun in his back and Y/n took it from him.

"Don't be stupid. The last thing either of us want to do is take you to the hospital after you shoot your dick off. I'm driving." Leff gave Y/n a nod that he agreed with her taking the gun off of Mike but he still didn't like how chummy they were being. They carried on the rest of the day like that. Leff took in the little touches they shared whenever either of them went in to do dropoffs. How they would tease one another in those ways only two people who didn't realize they were flirting would.

Leff stews in his anger the entire day until all three of them end up back at the garage, counting the money.

"Seriously, why can't I have a gun? I know how to shoot a gun." Mike argued with Y/n as she put the guns in the safe.

"You can barely handle putting your cock in leather pants. The last thing you need is a gun." Y/n teased.

"I think we both know that's not true." Mike smirked at her and Leff shook his head.

"You know, I have to say I didn't expect this from you Y/n. I really thought you had better taste..." Leff's words made them both look up.

"What?" She asked confused.

"I mean the way you're leading my nephew around like a pathetic lost dog, I thought you were more into the guys that threw you around." Leff's words were harsh. Y/n narrowed her eyes at him.

"Leff what the fuck?" Mike spoke up and Y/n leaned on the table staring down at Leff.

"I don't remember asking you what your thoughts were on who I talk to." Y/n seethed.

"How easily you forget...you work for me Y/n. I can say whatever the fuck I want to you, treat you however the fuck I want or you can go back to spinning on a pole playing Russian Roulette with some Russian prick who likes to pistol wipe you." Leff sat in his chair, leaning forward to match her stance.

"Leff you're being a-"

"Shut the fuck up." Y/n put her hand up in Mike's face and he sat down quietly.

"I've had enough of your tough cock big brother act Leff. You want to run around this city holding his hand, be my guest. It's the least you could do for his mother but don't you dare sit there and think you're going to talk to me like I'm one of those common whores you fuck in your little shithole castle." Y/n gritted her teeth.

"If I want to fuck your nephew until his plum dumb stupid, I will. If I want to stop working for you and hop back on a pole for money, I will. I'm a grown ass bitch and I refuse to be treated like I'm less than honorable...especially after all the shit I've done for you." She pointed at him and he let out a sigh. He counted the money out and laid it on the table flat.

"You gonna pick up your take or would you like my little nephew here to slip it in your tits?" Leff leaned back in his chair knowing he had won this argument.

She kicked the chair into the table making Mike jump and Leff shook his head at her.

"Go fuck yourself." She shouted throwing him the middle finger as she stormed out of the garage. Mike looked between the two of them before huffing.

"You're a real dick, you know that?" Mike grabbed her money and ran out after her. Leff didn't like how protective Mike had already gotten with Y/n.

"Y/n! Wait up!" Mike waved the cash around and she spun around snatching it.

"Why are you letting him get you all riled up? You know he's a fucking asshole." Mike said out of breath.

"He needs to get over himself before I let his ass catch a stray bullet." Y/n lit a cigarette and put it into her mouth.

"Hey, I know he's a prick but let's not get trigger happy." Mike joked but Y/n glared at him, inhaling the nicotine.

"I honestly don't know why he's being so over the top with this big brother routine. He's never given a shit about anyone I've ever dated before." Mike shook his head and Y/n snorted.

"We're not dating. I let you eat my pussy, that's hardly going steady." Y/n argued. Mike felt a bit slighted but tried to play it off.

"Hey pussy eating is a gateway drug, I hear." He joked but she rolled her eyes.

"You and Leff think of yourselves so highly. Grow up." She got into her car and peeled out of the parking lot leaving Mike standing there feeling like a complete idiot.

#5lbs of Pressure #Movie: 5LBS of Pressure #One Shot Series #Fever Dreams #Fever Dreams Series #Rory Culkin #Culkin Cult #Mike #Mike x Y/n

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tangledinourstrings · 1 month

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thank god i left voidkin asylum/cult of vin/whatever else it was called when i did, my mental health is like wayyyyy better now.

#ozzie rambles #that discord server was hell to be in #i remember one of the nurses tried accusing me of stealing art when it was #literally dr. phil's head edited onto a cat maid body i drew #i was 13 but that shit still makes me seethe to this day #i mean its probably my fault bc i thought itd be a good idea to join discord when i was 12 #but shit happens its not like i can undo it now #i just felt like reminiscing on old memories #like when someone in the server faked being burglarized #or when another person lied about getting shot #there were also like vent channels in a server filled with mostly minors #unfortunately im guilty of using them bc i was like 12-13 #OH OH AND I REMEMBER SOMEONE DREW KKK FANART AND GOT BANNED FOR IT #but that was in vin's older server b4 they deleted it #not surprised shit hit the fan with all of them #it was bound to happen #i think i left bc i kept embarrassing myself and got fed up lmao #i mightve been 14

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fourthwingfan · 1 month

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Madness - Chapter 20

Hi, my dearest readers! I'm alive. The wedding was fantastic, but I'm soo tired. I barely slept the last few days. We decorated for 13 hours on Friday. Then the wedding on Saturday and we packed up everything on Sunday. And for some reason I thought that I didn't need to take a day off on Monday, I'll be fine. Well, I thought wrong. But thank you for your patience! ❤️ Here comes the new chapter. Enjoy! :)

Accusing a wingleader of wrongdoing is the most dangerous of all accusations. If you’re right, then we’ve failed as a quadrant to select the best wingleaders. If you’re wrong, you’re dead.

—My Time as a Cadet: A Memoir by General Augustine Melgren

„Jackson Marlowe.” Captain Fitzgibbons finishes reading the death roll and closes the scroll as we stand in formation the next morning, our breath creating clouds in the chilled air. “We commend their souls to Malek.”

There’s no room for sorrow in my heart for six of the eight names, not when I’m shifting my weight to soothe the ache of black-and-blue along my ribs and ignoring the way other riders stare at my face.

I went to Nolon this morning, and he mended my nose, but I wanted to keep my bruises. One of those who attacked Violet is alive. I want them to know I will not forgive. Never.

If Xaden won’t do anything about it, then I will. I’m a Melgren after all, I’m allowed to be a little crazy.

The two others on today’s list are third-years from Second Wing, killed on a training operation near the Braevick border, according to breakfast gossip, and I can’t help but wonder if that’s where Xaden had been before coming to our rescue last night.

“I can’t believe they tried to kill you while you were sleeping.” Liam’s still seething, at breakfast we told our table what happened.

“Even worse, I think I’m getting used to it. Either I have kick-ass compartmentalization skills or I really am acclimating to always being a target.” Violet says.

Captain Fitzgibbons makes some minor announcements, and I tune him out as someone strides our way, cutting through the space between the Flame and Tail Sections of our wing.

Just like it always does, my stupid, hormone-driven heart stutters at the first sight of Xaden. Even the most effective poisons come in pretty packages, and Xaden’s exactly that—as beautiful as he is lethal. He looks deceptively calm as he approaches, but I can feel his tension as if it’s my own, like a panther prowling toward his prey. The wind ruffles his hair, and I sigh at the completely unfair advantage he has over every man in this courtyard. He doesn’t even have to try to look sexy…he just is.

Oh shit. This feeling right here—the way my breath catches and my entire body draws tight when he’s near—is why I haven’t taken anyone to bed or celebrated like the rest of my perfectly normal friends. This feeling is why I haven’t wanted anyone…else.

Because I want him.

There aren’t enough curse words in the world for this.

He stops next to us and he looks toward Liam then nods in Violet’s direction.

Oh shit. Violet will be sooo angry when she realizes…

„I do not need a bodyguard!” she snaps at Xaden.

He ignores her, still looking at Liam.

“Switch places with me.” Liam whispers to me.

I look at him questioningly but he doesn’t say another word.

“Fine.” I sigh and now he stands behind Violet.

„I. Do. Not. Need. A. Bodyguard!” she repeats, a little louder this time.

One of the first-years behind me gasps, mortified by her audacity, no doubt.

Imogen snorts. “Good luck with that approach.”

Xaden stands directly in front of Violet, leaning into her space. “You do, though, as we both learned last night. And I can’t be everywhere you are. But Liam here”—he points back to the blond Tyr—“he’s a first-year, so he can be in every class, at every challenge, and I even had him assigned to library duty, so I hope you get used to him, Sorrengail.”

“And what about Aelin?” She asks with a raised eyebrow. “She was with me too.”

“I don’t care about her.” Xaden replies without hesitation.

Ouch. It hurts.

Liam quickly grabs my hand and squeezes it before letting it go.

“And I don’t know if she will protect you at all costs.” Xaden continues.

“Now, that’s just a fucking excuse.” I mutter.

I will protect Violet. She’s one of the most important person in my life. And he knows it too. He’s not stupid.

“You’re overstepping.” Violet hisses at him.

“You haven’t begun to see overstepping,” he warns, his voice dropping low. “Any threat against you is a threat against me, and as we’ve already established, I have more important things to do than sleep on your floor.”

Heat flushes up her neck and stains her cheeks. “He is not sleeping in my room.”

Oh, Vi. I knew it that you like Liam.

“Of course not.” He freaking smirks. “I had him moved into the one next to yours. Wouldn’t want to overstep.” He turns on his heel and walks away, headed back to his place at the front of our formation.

“Fucking mated dragons,” Dain seethes, keeping his eyes forward.

“What? Did you move? When?” I ask Liam in shock.

“This morning. And I won’t be far. Just on the other side of Violet.” He smiles at me with a boyish grin and I can’t help it, I smile back.

“Fiinee. But I warn you, do not replace me with her.” I mock glare at him.

“How could I do it, Snappy? You’re my best friend.” He winks at me.

“Snappy? You didn’t call me that since… I don’t know.” I try to remember when was the last time.

“I call you that because you’re talking nonsense. Now pay attention.”

Fitzgibbons finishes his announcements and steps to the back of the dais, which would usually signal the end of formation, but Commandant Panchek takes the podium. He makes it a habit to avoid morning formation, which means something is up.

“What’s going on with Panchek?” Rhiannon asks at Violet’s side.

“Not sure.” I shrug.

“It has to be something big if he’s fumbling with a Codex up there,” Rhiannon says.

“Quiet,” Dain orders, glancing back over his shoulder at us for the first time this morning. He does a double-take, his eyes flaring wide as he catches sight of Violet’s neck. “Vi?”

„I’m fine,” she assures him, but he’s still staring at her throat, locked in shock. “Squad Leader Aetos, people are staring.” We hold way more than our share of the attention as Commandant Panchek begins to speak at the podium, telling us that there’s another matter to handle this morning, but Dain won’t look away. “Dain!”

He blinks, jerking his gaze to hers. “Is that what Riorson meant by last night?”

She nods.

“I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m fine,” she repeats, nodding toward the dais. “Later.”

He turns, but the motion is reluctant.

“It has been brought to my attention as your commandant that a breach of the Codex has occurred,” Panchek calls out over the courtyard.

“As you know, breaches of our most sacred laws are not to be tolerated,” Panchek continues. “This matter will be addressed here and now. Will the accuser please step forward.”

“Someone’s in trouble,” Rhiannon whispers. “Think Ridoc finally got caught in Tyvon Varen’s bed?”

“That’s hardly against the Codex,” Ridoc murmurs from behind us.

“He’s the executive officer for Second Wing.” I send a pointed look over my shoulder.

“And?” Ridoc shrugs, grinning without a touch of remorse. “Fraternizing with command is frowned upon, not unlawful.”

I sigh, facing forward. “I miss sex.” I really do, and it’s not just the physical gratification, either. There’s a sense of connection in those moments that I crave, a momentary banishment of loneliness.

The first is something I’m sure Xaden would be more than capable of providing, if he ever thought of me that way, but the second? He’s the last person I should be craving, but lust and logic never seem to go hand in hand.

“If you’re looking for a little fun, I’m happy to oblige—” Ridoc starts, shoving his floppy brown hair off his forehead with a wink.

“I miss good sex,” I counter, smothering a smile as someone walks from the front of formation toward the dais, indistinguishable through the rows of the squads ahead of us. “Besides, apparently you’re spoken for.” Have to admit, it feels good to tease a friend about something so trivial. It’s a tiny slice of normalcy in an otherwise macabre environment.

“We’re not exclusive,” Ridoc counters. “It’s like Rhiannon and what’s-her-name…”

“Tara,” Rhiannon offers.

“Will you all shut the hell up?” Dain barks in his superior-officer voice.

Our mouths snap shut, and I roll my eyes.

Mine drops open again when I realize it’s Xaden climbing the steps to the dais. “This is about you,” I whisper to Vi.

Dain glances back at me, confusion furrowing his brow before whipping his attention toward the dais, where Xaden now stands at the podium, somehow managing to fill the entire stage with his presence.

From what I remember reading, his father had that same magnetism, the ability to hold and capture a crowd with nothing but his words…words that led to Brennan’s death.

“Early this morning,” he begins, his deep voice carrying over the formation, “a rider in my wing was brutally, illegally attacked in her sleep with the intent of murder by a group primarily composed of unbondeds. When another rider rushed to her aid after hearing the commotion, she were attacked too.”

A collection of murmurs and gasps fills the air, and Dain’s shoulders stiffen.

“As we all know, the first act is a violation of Article Three, Section Two of the Dragon Rider’s Codex and, in addition to being dishonorable, is a capital offense.”

I feel the weight of a dozen glances, but it’s Xaden’s I feel most of all.

His hands clench the sides of the podium. “Having been alerted by my dragon, I interrupted the attack along with two other Fourth Wing riders.” He dips his chin toward our wing, and two riders—Garrick and Bodhi—break formation, then climb the steps to stand behind Xaden, their hands at their sides. “As it was a matter of life and death, I personally executed six of the would-be murderers, as witnessed by Flame Section Leader Garrick Tavis and Tail Section Executive Officer Bodhi Durran.”

“Both Tyrs. How convenient,” Nadine, one of the new additions to the squad, says from the row behind Ridoc.

I look back over my shoulder and pin her with a glare.

Liam keeps his eyes forward.

“But the attack was orchestrated by a rider who fled before I arrived,” Xaden continues, his voice rising. “A rider who had access to the map of where all first-years are assigned to sleep, and that rider must be brought to swift justice.

Shit. This is about to get ugly.

“I call you to answer for your crime against Cadet Sorrengail, and indirectly against Cadet Melgren.” Xaden’s focus shifts to the center of the formation. “Wingleader Amber Mavis.”

The quadrant draws a collective breath before an uproar rips through the crowd.

“What the hell?” Dain bites out.

Every rider in the courtyard’s attention pivots between Xaden, Amber, me…and Violet.

I squeeze her shoulder. She hates the attention.

“She’s a Tyr, too, Nadine,” Ridoc says over his shoulder. “Or are you only biased against marked ones?”

Amber’s family stayed loyal to Navarre, so she wasn’t forced to watch her parents executed and wasn’t marked by a rebellion relic.

“Amber would never.” Dain shakes his head. “A wingleader would never.” He turns completely to face us. “Get up there and tell everyone that he’s lying, Vi.”

“But he’s not,” I say as gently as I can. I know he cares about her.

“It’s impossible.” His cheeks flush a mottled shade of red.

“I was there, Dain.” Violet confirms it.

„Wingleaders are beyond reproach—”

“Then why are you so quick to call our own wingleader a liar?” My brows rise in challenge, daring him to say what he’s so careful to keep quiet.

Behind him, Amber steps forward, separating herself from the formation. “I have committed no such crime!”

“See?” Dain swings his arm, pointing toward the redhead. “Put a stop to this right now, Violet.”

“She was with them in my room,” she says simply. Shouting won’t convince him. Nothing will.

„That’s impossible.” He lifts his hands, as though ready to cup her face. “Let me see.”

I quickly grab Violet’ shoulder and pull her back toward me, farther away from Dain.

After the Jeremiah incident she told me about Dain’s signet, that he can read memories.

I can’t let him see the memory of Amber’s participation, it will also show him that Violet stopped time.

I can’t let that happen!

“Give me the memory,” he orders.

“Touch me without permission, and you’ll spend the rest of your life regretting it.” She glares at him.

Maybe Violence is a fitting nickname, after all.

Surprise ripples over his features.

“Wingleaders.” Xaden projects his voice over the chaos. “We need a quorum.”

Both Nyra and Septon Izar—the wingleaders for First and Second Wing—climb the stairs to the dais, passing by Amber as she stands utterly exposed in the courtyard.

A familiar chaos fills the air, and we all look toward the ridgeline as seven dragons curve along the mountain, flying straight for us.

In a matter of seconds, they reach the citadel and hover over the courtyard walls. Wind from the strong beats of their wings blasts through the courtyard.

Then, one by one, they land on their perch, Tairn at the center of the grouping, Aon is next to him.

Every line of his frame exudes menace as his talons crush the masonry under his grip, and his narrowed, angry eyes focus on Amber.

Sgaeyl is perched to Tairn’s right, taking her position behind Xaden. She’s just as terrifying as she was that first day, but I still find her beautiful. Nyra’s Red Scorpiontail looms behind her as well, and Septon’s Brown Daggertail mirrors the stance to the left. On the ends, puffing blasts of steam, are Commandant Panchek’s Green Clubtail and Amber’s Orange Daggertail is next to Aon.

“Shit’s about to get real,” Sawyer says, breaking formation to stand at Violet’s side, and I feel Ridoc at my back as he steps closer.

“You can stop this all right now, Violet. You have to,” Dain implores. “I don’t know what you saw last night, but it wasn’t Amber. She cares too much about the rules to break them.”

“You’re using this to get your revenge on my family!” Amber shouts at Xaden. “For not supporting your father’s rebellion!”

That’s a low fucking blow.

Xaden doesn’t even acknowledge it as he turns to the other wingleaders.

He isn’t demanding proof like Dain. He believes her, and he’s ready to execute a wingleader on nothing more than her word. As surely as if they’re a physical structure, I feel my defenses crack on Xaden’s behalf.

Tairn chuffs and every dragon besides Sgaeyl stiffens on the wall, even Amber’s. The riders are quick to follow, silence filling the courtyard.

I know what they see.

Aon showes me what happened last night, in Violet’s point of view.

Amber, the fight before I arrived, and then I see… myself. It’s really strange. I can see myself but in someone else point of view. I was pretty…terrifying. Blood all over my face, my cold gaze.

„That’s why I chose you, little one. You’re ruthless, and you protect those who are weaker than you.”

„Thanks, you know how to compliment someone.” I laugh. Yep, he’s definitely a big softie.

“That spineless wretch,” Rhiannon seethes in front of me.

Dain pales.

“Believe me now?” Vi hurles it like the accusation it is. “You’re supposed to be my oldest friend, Dain. One of my best friends. There’s a reason I didn’t tell you.”

He staggers backward.

“The wingleaders have formed a quorum and are in unanimous agreement,” Xaden announces, flanked by Nyra and Septon while the commandant hangs back. “We find you guilty, Amber Mavis.”

“No!” she shouts. “It is no crime to rid the quadrant of the weakest rider! I did it to protect the integrity of the wings!” She paces in panic, looking to everyone—anyone for help.

As a whole, the formation moves backward.

“And as is our law, your sentence will be carried out by fire,” Nyra states.

“No!” Amber looks to her dragon. “Claidh!”

Amber’s Orange Daggertail snarls at the other dragons and lifts a claw.

Aon swivels his massive head toward Claidh, his roar shaking the ground beneath my feet. Then he snaps his teeth at the smaller orange, and she retreats, her head hanging as she grips the wall again.

“Please don’t,” I hear Violet as she begs.

I can feel the sadness inside me. She’s too merciful.

She turns to Xaden and begs again, her voice breaking by the end. “Please give her a chance.”

He holds her gaze but doesn’t so much as show a flicker of emotion.

Justice is not always merciful.

„Claidh,” Amber whimpers, the courtyard so unbelievably silent that the sound carries.

The formation splits at the center.

Tairn leans low, extending his head and neck past the dais toward where Amber stands. Then his teeth part, he curls his tongue, and he incinerates her with a blast of fire so hot, I can feel it from here. It’s over in a heartbeat.

A gruesome scream rends the air, shattering a window in the academic wing, and every rider slams their hands over their ears as Claidh mourns.

#fourth wing #fanfiction #fourth wing fanfic #the fourth wing #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #liam mairi #oc #the empyrean #xaden x oc #xaden riorson x oc #ridoc gamlyn #rhiannon matthias #imogen cardulo #tairn #sgaeyl #dragons

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outerspacebisexual · 2 years

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Congratulations on the followers! I hope there is another celebration for more soon as you deserve all the recognition!

I was hoping it's not to late to request from the prompts list. If it not I would like to request 13 and 18 with Argyle and a female reader. The reader has a crush on her friend Argyle, so when he returns from Hawkins and he tells her about what happened/is happening shes worried and upset.

Bad Trip - Argyle

Summary: Your friend Argyle shows up on your doorstep after vanishing into thin air. You aren't entirely pleased to see him.

Pairing: Argyle x Reader

Word count: 1.0k

Warnings: swearing, little fight, fluff!

a/n: i love writing side characters that i can just make shit up about. like, does argyle have a sister? dunno. does he have one in this? absolutely.

thank you for requesting! <3

Masterlist

You were hallucinating.

That was the only logical explanation for how Argyle was standing on your doorstep with an awkwardly sheepish smile on his face after being missing for a week.

Every thought emptied from your mind as the shock turned into relief, and then quickly morphed into anger. You stepped forward and planted your hands on his chest, sending him flying back a few feet as you pushed him.

His smile dropped as he stumbled. “What—”

“How dare you,” you seethed, stepping closer to him. “How dare you just show up like nothing happened? Like you didn’t just disappear without a single fucking word.” Tears pricked at your eyes as you continued your tirade while Argyle just stood there, watching you with wide eyes. “Do you know how worried I’ve been?”

He reached out to take your hand, but you stepped back, pulling your hand to your chest.

“Don’t.”

“I can explain everything, I swear,” he said. “Well, as best I can. There are still some things that are totally way over my head. But I can explain as best I can.”

You were crying in earnest then.

For a whole week, you had been on the verge of a nervous breakdown after you arrived to work to find Argyle had ditched his shift mid-way through. You had gone to his place after your shift ended, thinking that he might have split to hang out with Jonathan, but he wasn’t home.

You tried calling him the next day, but still nothing. You hadn’t been able to shake the sinking feeling in your gut that something was wrong.

And after the third day of radio-silence from him, you had used the spare key to let yourself into his house. Nothing had been moved. All of his clothes were still in his closet. The dirty dishes were still piled on his counter. The movie that he’d rented for you guys to watch on the weekend was still sitting on top of his TV, even though it was due two days ago.

It looked like he had simply gone to work and not come home. That sinking feeling had turned into a pool of dread.

You had called his older sister, thinking that maybe he had gone to visit her, but she hadn’t seen him. You had even tried Jonathan, but his line had been busy every time you called.

No one in Lenora Hills seemed to know where he was. He had just vanished in the middle of the day.

You had been on the verge of calling the police, but hesitated. What would you have even said to them?

Despite the fact that you want to be so much more, you were just his friend, and he didn’t have to tell you where he was going and when, even though he normally did tell you everything.

Seeing him now, your heart was torn between wanting to throw yourself into his arms and never let go or throw him of your lawn and never see him again. “Go away, Argyle,” you managed, swiping at your wet cheeks. Your voice was pathetic, even to your own ears.

“I can’t leave with you crying like this,” he said softly. “Let me explain, please. And if you still want me to leave then I will. I won’t even fight you on it.”

You stared at him, debating letting him in. He looked hurt at your hesitation, face falling as you didn’t immediately welcome him in like you always did. That one look alone had you pulling your door open, leading him to your couch where he began explaining his disappearance.

An hour later, and you were wondering what kind of new strain Argyle had tried that led to a trip this bad.

You held your hands up. “Wait. So, Jonathan and his brother and sister somehow have magic powers?”

“No, just his sister. It’s so totally insane, dude. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

The whole time he’d been explaining this crazy story, you had sat in silence, which you returned to now. You just blinked at him. “Right.” You still weren’t entirely sure if you believed it, but Argyle had never lied to you before, and to start with something this fucked up would be out of character for him.

He seemed to be excited about his little adventure. You weren’t sure how in the hell he could have any positive feelings about the gruelling week he’d had, but…that was just Argyle.

After a moment, his eyes fell to his shoes as he said, “I’m sorry that I didn’t call. It’s just, you know, secret government assassins on our tail and all.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth.

“I did want to,” he continued, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. “And I thought about it, like, all the time. But… but I thought that they might be able to trace the call or something, like in those spy movies you like.” He paused, finally looking up at you. “I didn’t want them finding you.”

Your heart melted at the sincerity in his voice. Even with all everything going on, he was still thinking about you.

“It’s alright,” you told him. “I was just so scared that something bad happened to you. I mean, I guess it did, so I was right, but I’m just glad you’re OK.”

He smiled, his casual Argyle smile that made you weak at the knees. “Gotta trust that gut instinct more often.”

You scoffed. “I trust my gut all the time. It’s you and Jonathan who second guess me.”

“Trust me, I won’t be second guessing any shit you say from now on.”

You couldn’t pull your eyes from him, just so overcome with gratitude and disbelief that he was sitting across from you. Safe. Even after being involved with monsters and superpowers and secret government agents. “You’re not allowed to be gone a whole week ever again,” you said. “Especially without telling me.”

Argyle laughed, throwing his head back. “I won’t be going anywhere any time soon. Not without you.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, at the underlying meaning that you prayed you weren’t imagining. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

#argyle x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #argyle x you #argyle x y/n #argyle fanfiction #stranger things one shot

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vintage-vermin · 6 months

Text

Mini thought;

I will sometimes, once a half year play OSRS again for a bit. I played it when I was a child 20 years ago when it came out and it was my first "real" mmo that the family PC could handle without 13 bucks a month costs.

While you could change your gender in-game since like 2004, it only became a problem to the player base in recent years. Jagex, the company behind Runescape, will do Pride events. These events are optional and can be wildly ignored by players.

Player don't ignore it though, they put on full white robes and start protesting in the capital cities. The most famous saying being "We pay, no gay".

Meaning, "we pay a monthly fee to play this game and as such, we should be allowed to dictate that all LGBTQ+ should not be welcome here"

Warning for the language maybe, but hey, this is how it is, this is how they talk.

Staff has gone on record to say that the hundreds of accounts that do this, are not regular players. Which is amazing to me, rather then looking at your own player base and realizing something over the course of like 15 years, it's easier to say that hundreds of people who don't play this game, make an account, finish like 40 quests, get to level 70, get membership for 10 bucks a month to even get the robes, and then protest in a city for 1 day saying the most heinous shit.

I'm just lost on who has the motivation and is willing to both spend the money and grind skills in RS of all places, just to have a mini platform to be a cunt. From all the horrible things I see people say in the game every time I log in and from the past, I'm very hard to convince that the calls are coming from outside the house, ya know?

I spend time in Clan Chat channels. I hop around, talk to people while playing the medieval fantasy cookie clicker. You very often see very homophobic sentiments being thrown around. Every one is always waiting to rant about the "letter maffia" and all that shit. Recently I was in a chat channel that was quiet for a bit. Just 2 guys talking about some of their health problems. Some one runs in and start saying junk like "Cant stand the lgbtipjsertijegrwnpjige3" I give a 2 word reply of "calm down" we're met with him keymashing for a while. at the end, asking if he missed any freaks? The multiple people that weave in and out of chat stay silent and I shrug and leave the channel.

This is honestly, normal in OSRS, the player base is mostly people who used to play it when they were 10. The problem is that it seems the majority of their brains have also stagnated at that age.

For a game that meant so much to me as an MMO experience combined with the Runescape Forums I was on, it always hard to see that the majority of players are such cunts and are biting their teeth just for the opportunity to vomit their dumb-shit hate.

I just find it sad. Because it brings me to the next piece, group advertisements in MMO's and other games.

Joining random groups can be fine, but you always find someone somewhere who needs to regurgitate FOX news somehow. But, when we search for LGBTQ+ friendly groups, we still have to gamble.

I've joined a few of these clans/groups here and there. The majority of the crowd seems fine and is having fun hanging out and not getting suicide stats thrown at them for just being in the chat.

But then there's always group leads who are a little strange on the edges. Sometimes it's just a young person figuring themselves out and is just watching people more comfy in their expression to hopefully learn and get confidence, sure. I've had that. The silent guy on the side wasen't seething at us just being. He's trying to learn from us.

But, it also happens that the whole group is just a Chaser operation set-up for the leader. I've landed and departed from a few FF14 Free Companies (Player run Guilds) that claimed to be inclusive. Again, the crowd was fine, we're all being led here by the same premise. The sign says welcome and so, I'm gonna feel welcomed.

It was the very caring leader that would often PM you to see what was up. It looks caring, it looks like this person was looking out for you.

But the tone will change.

"We've become so connected together, haven't we? After me talking to you for a month, we're pretty close right? I've ranted a little and shown some weakness as you did to you. We're just so connected. I wanna see you."

The tone really changes when you find out only certain people get these messages. Sometimes you're a little forthcoming about yourself and maybe people find out that you're trans. Again, the crowd is innocent, they just want to hang with similar people and support eachother.

But now the Clan lead is PM'ing you daily.

I dunno, I just hate it online. I liked the internet more when these cunts were contained in their imageboards and shooter game lobbies that they thought to be the entire internet.

Now my cozy corners of the web have been destroyed and I'm forced unto the same platform as people who want to see me dead because of drooling conservative rhetoric or christian brainworm bullshit.

#OSRS #runescape #fuck off #shut the fuck up #“those” RS players DNI

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rezzyromance · 3 years

Note

Idk if this is how you request things or if it's just asking, BUT-

How would the Lords react to an S/O that's usually the chillest person that you will ever meet (not to be confused with a pushover because they are not), they've never seen them even mildly annoyed when something bad happens. But then something happens and, turns out, the S/O is utterly TERRIFYING when they're mad.

Hope this makes sense!

Aw man I'm gonna feel awful scaring Moreau and Donna :(

Alcina

You're relaxing on a beautiful morning. The sun is shining through the window just enough to warm the room but not hurt your eyes. You hadn't even changed out of your sleep wear. "How are you feeling, my dear?", a sweet voice rang from the doorway. You were sitting in your favorite chair near the window. You turn and smile at her. She walks over and rubs your face in her large hand before leaning down and giving you a soft kiss. "I'm feeling amazing. And you?", you grab her hand before she pulls it away and you place a kiss on her knuckles. "I'm feeling alright. There's a new maid here. She's a bit slow. I'm giving her until tonight to finish dusting the entire castle or else she won't see another sunrise." It was almost comedic how dark her words were as you both stared out the window and gazed at the beautiful scenery. "Come on Alcina.", you stand up and place your hands on hers, trying to hold them despite the size difference. "Give the girl a break. It's a huge castle AND it's her first day.", you knew your words would probably change nothing. Alcina was rather cruel, but you looked past it. You tried your best to make the nervous maids comfortable whenever they arrive.

"We'll see how she does." She gives you one more kiss before leaving the room. You sit back down in your chair, enjoying the warmth of the sun for a little while longer. You lose track of time, minutes maybe even hours go by. Suddenly, there's a crash not far from the door. You jump and stand up, no longer comfortable after being startled. "What in the name of Mother Miranda?!", you leave the room and look down the hallway. The new maid stood there with a terrified look on her face. In front of her was one of the paintings Alcina had on her walls, now with a broken frame and a hole punctured. Your blood began to boil. It was a painting of you, her, and the girls all together. It was your favorite. "How in the hell did you manage to do that?!", you begin to stomp towards her. She cowers and struggles to find her words. "I-I-I was just dusting! It fell and I-I didn't mean t-", you cut her off. "How the fuck did you knock such a large painting over just by dusting?! DO YOU THINK YOU'RE ALLOWED TO MAKE SUCH STUPID MISTAKES HERE?!", you unravel. "I-I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!", she almost begins to weep. "SORRY ISN'T GONNA SAVE YOUR ASS!"

"MISS DIMITRESCU PLEASE HELP!", she cries out. You freeze, realizing that the lady herself is right behind you. You turn to face her. Her eyes are wide with shock. She has never seen you like this before and never even knew you had this type of side to you. She was impressed as much as she was terrified. "(Y/N)? Are you alright my love?" She had no idea what to do as your seething slowed down. "Why don't you go back to the room, yes? Settle down a little and deal with her later.", she places a hand on your back helps walk with you back to the room. Once you're there, she bends down to whisper in your ear. "I don't know where this side of you has been this whole time, but I am so amazed by you. And also a little frightened."

Donna

The Beneviento house was usually a calm place despite its creepy aura. You and Donna are both quiet and chill people. Never once have you fought or even raised your voices at each other. It was pleasant.

You had planned a nice dinner for the both of you. You wanted to try out a new recipe and surprise her, so you made your way to the kitchen to get started. "Okay, what first? I guess I'll need a pot.", you go rummaging through the kitchen and you find the pots stacked within each other inside one of the top cabinets. You groan and stand up on your toes, grazing the pots with your fingers. It didn't take much to cause them to tumble down, crashing on top of you with a loud sound that followed. "Aw shit.", you sighed and picked up the knocked over pots. A small but annoying pain began to throb in your head from where it made contact with a pot. What you didn't notice was you forgot to pick one of the pots up. It remained unnoticed. "It's fine.", you say to yourself as you maintain your composure. Next, a cutting board and knife. You turn around and begin to walk forward to find the cutting board, but you slam your toe into counter. You wince in pain and grab your foot. "SON OF A BITCH!", you yell.

You calm yourself, still wanting to have a pleasant meal with Donna. "Alright. Everything's fine." You step forward and kick the pot that you had forgotten to pick up. It caused your freshly kicked toe to ache even more. "OH COME ON! GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!", you scream and swear as you throw your arms up in pure rage and shock.

"...(Y/N)?", a gentle voice whispered from the doorway, causing you to whip your head in that direction. It was Donna. She looked absolutely horrified and almost looked like she could cry. "Is.. is everything... are you alright?", she worried. "Yes. I'm sorry. Just got a little pissed off.", you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, feeling bad for scaring the poor girl.

Moreau

You were sitting on the dock together, looking into the water as your feet swung back and forth above it. It was a sunny day and you two decided to spend it outside. Your hand slowly made its way over to his. His feet stopped swinging for a second as you entangled your fingers. "I don't know what I'd do without you, (Y/N)." his words were bitter sweet as a gentle smile formed from his lips. "Oh, Sal. You don't have to think like that. I'll always be here for you.", you kiss his cheek and continue to relax as you sway your legs.

"There it is! There's the beast!", a voice yelled from not so far away. You both look in the direction of the voice and see a few young village boys. Possibly between the ages of 13 and 16. Moreau had become some what of a scary story for the villagers. A tale that kids spread on school court yard and bring up during dares. But, you've never seen a kid brave enough to actually make it far enough into the reservoir to actually see Moreau. Now, there were about 3. All of them stood and pointed, shocked and terrified.

"Hey beast! Come get me!", one kid teases. You glare at the kids as a newfound rage begins to boil inside you. "Let's go back inside.", Moreau says before standing up from the doc. The sadness in his voice was heartbreaking. Suddenly, one of the children gathers the guts to pick up a rock and throw it as hard as he could. His aim was off, but not by much. It slammed into the wood near Moreau's feet, startling him. "Take that you devil!", he laughs. "THAT'S IT YOU LITTLE SHIT!", you begin sprinting in the direction of the immature brats. Two of them run from the direction they came from while the one who threw the rock was frozen in fear. You took the opportunity to grab him by the collar of his shirt. "Listen here you little waste of space. I'm gonna give you 3 seconds to turn around and run for your goddamn life. If you or any of your little snot-nosed friends come around here again, they'll be goddamn fish food. Do you understand?" The kid was too scared to speak and instead began to nod rapidly. You let him go and watched as he ran as fast as he could, screaming the whole way.

You walk back to the shack and find Moreau standing in the same place he was when you took off. His mouth was agape and he looked almost as scared as the kids. "You alright Sal? I made sure those little shits won't be coming around here anymore." "Yeah... I didn't know you could be so... scary", he says. "I'm sorry. But those kids were being cruel. I had to do something.", you say. "Well... it was awesome!", he smiled. "But also very scary!" You laugh which helps sooth him a little.

Heisenberg

"Screw driver.", is all Karl said with an outstretched palm. He was working on some type of mechanical heart for his experiments. He wanted you to lend a "helping hand" even though he could easily do it all by himself. He did this because he wanted to be around you, he was just too stubborn with too big of an ego to simply say it. So here you were, handing him every little tool he asks for.

"Do you want the big one or the little one?", you say with a hint of boredom in your tone. "Aw c'mon don't sound like that! Isn't this exciting? It's like you're working on it with me! Also, hand me the big one.", you do as he says and hand him the big screw driver. "I just don't get it. You literally have powers. You can easily do this by yourself and have been for so long. Why do you need me to help?" He pauses for a second and looks over towards you, his brow slightly furrowed. "I don't NEED you to help. I just thought it would be nice for you to help out. Plus, you're the one always bitching about me constantly working. Well, here you are! Helping me work! So, either suck it up or you can leave." His harshness had no real ill will in it. He was just confused and a bit too ignorant to consider his words. But, he was testing your patience. He continued to use the screwdriver until handing it to you without saying a word.

"Hand me a screw.", he demanded with his hand facing palm up again. "Which size?" "They're all the same sizes, dumbass." You feel your blood begin to boil. "They're different fucking sizes! This one is smaller than this one!", you hold up two screws that are obviously different sizes. This makes Karl angry. Not because you were right, but because you seemed upset over something that seemed so insignificant.

"If you came here just to yap in my ear, then I don't think I need your assistance.", he huffed. You put the selection of tools and supplies he was making you hold on the table he is working on and ball your fists. "You're the one who told me to do this in the first place!", you yell. "Yeah, because you won't stop bitching! Non-stop you're always compla-" you cut him off before he can finish. "SHUT UP!", you yell. The room goes silent. "YOU SAY I'M BITCHING? HAVE YOU HEARD YOURSELF? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST KARL YOU BITCH AND MOAN ALL THE TIME! I'M DONE TAKING SHIT FROM YOU!" He wanted to be angry, but he couldn't. He felt something much more overwhelming. Was he.. intimidated? He didn't move from his seat. All he could do was look up at you with a confused expression. What now? What is there to do? If he pushes you further, what would happen? He was actually too scared to find out.

You take a deep breath to calm down before speaking. "Now, if you want me to help with your shit, I'll stay as long as you keep your mouth shut. Can you possibly manage to do that?" He gulps nervously. "Yes ma'am."

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bratkook · 3 years

Text

not yet. jjk

not yet, almost, right now pairing. jungkook x reader genre. fluff, some angst, pg-13 word count. 4.1k warnings. mentions of infidelity, some feelings come to light, unrequited pining, spur of the moment kissing, light grinding on the dance floor, jungkook pops a boner and wants to cry</3 summary. jungkook feels the pang of guilt in his gut when you spot your recent ex out with his new girl, and what better way to make the jerk hurt than to have him believe you were now dating him, the neighbor he had been insecure about your whole relationship note. this is based off a request sent a while back for numbers #43 and #67 from this prompt list! (i think this might turn into a small drabble series...mayhaps)

Jungkook can spot your discomfort easily, the occasional colorful light bouncing off your face showing him the flash of anger in your eyes. The only reason he’s not currently running for the hills, knowing very well how mean you can get when angry, is because your glare isn’t being sent at him. Not yet at least.

Because of this, he allows himself to enjoy the cute way your nose scrunches up, lips twisting in displeasure as you stare at the crowd of people, eyes locked onto an unlucky bystander. Honestly, he wishes he could hear your thoughts, wanting to know exactly what has your panties in a bunch, ruining your mood instead of letting you enjoy the expensive fruity drink he had just bought you as payment for allowing him to drag you out of the house. Jungkook isn’t a mind reader though, so he decides on his next best option.

“Who’s got you looking all sour?” he sighs, resting his elbow on the counter of the bar as he inches closer to you, head at your level in an attempt to match your line of sight.

“Him,” you seethe, brows pinching together, showing those light wrinkles in between them, a product of how expressive you were and definitely something Jungkook always teases you about.

Jungkook can only hum in question, eyes squinting in the low light as he attempts to find the him you’re talking about. With a slight turn of your head, you’re inches from Jungkook’s cheek, the obvious look of confusion etched onto his soft features letting you know he was absolutely lost. With a soft huff your fingers are gripping his cheeks and moving his face in the right direction, free hand pointing as discreetly as you could to the man in question.

You know he spots him, you can feel his jaw tense underneath your grip. What you don’t feel is the sudden guilt that fills him up, sloshing in his stomach and mixing with the liquor he just drank until he feels a little queasy. Jungkook instantly regrets coaxing you out of your little dungeon with the promise of cheering you up. If he had known the spawn of satan–dubbed your ex boyfriend and also the reason why you were in a downward spiral–would be here, he would have just let you rot in your bed like you originally wanted.

“Do you wanna go?” he mutters out, cheeks still squished by your slowly tightening grip, and he begins to accept the fact that you might just break his jaw right now. It’s fine, he thinks, he deserves it.

“No,” you grunt stubbornly, fingers finally releasing him as you turn back around and choose to face the endless amount of bottles behind the bar. He may be the reason you were currently on a never ending cycle of watching sad, heartbreaking chick-flicks from the early 2000’s, dumping you with the lame excuse that you two were on different paths and he just wasn’t ready for commitment. It’s something you accepted, albeit jaw tense and eye twitching as you did so, but you figured you would eventually find your way back to each other.

Your mind was warped, believing you were meant to be, that this was just a mere bump in the road that you would laugh at together in the future.

That is, until he blocked you on all social media, and you had to hear from your best friend that he had moved on days later and was now with some blonde-haired, fresh faced, supermodel-esque woman that you could not get yourself to hate. Instead you took to endlessly scrolling through her instagram while you stuffed your face with milk chocolate and questioned why you had ever convinced yourself that you had a future with him.

“Good, he’s a dick and you shouldn’t let him ruin your night.” Jungkook grumbles, slinging his arm around you as you hold your forgotten drink by your lips. He had seen your relationship with Hajoon play out from the very beginning, knowing slightly more intimate details than he would like considering you were next door neighbors and happened to share a wall between your bedrooms.

The friendship you had with Jungkook blossomed right after you moved in four years ago, friendly neighborly talks morphing into actual conversations, and eventually inviting each other into your apartments where you would attempt to beat him at any game you had in your Nintendo switch. It was a great dynamic, providing the two of you with a sense of relief after your busy days at work.

Unfortunately, the second you got with Hajoon was the end of any of those playful matches, your ex’s jealousy making you distance yourself in an attempt to keep your relationship at bay.

Jungkook can’t say he didn’t see it coming, having heard the way you’d cry anytime you had an argument and your ex would leave, slamming the door behind him so hard Jungkook’s walls would rattle. It had become such a common occurence it was a shock he hadn’t marched out of his house, met Hajoon in the hall, and gave him a clean right hook in your honor.

He was secretly hoping you’d break up with the jerk for your own good–and maybe for his own personal reasons too. Your ex was right in being wary of Jungkook, knowing the way a boy's mind worked, sensing Jungkook’s feelings for you in a way you were too blind to see. Jungkook wasn’t a dick though, he could tell you wanted your relationship to work so he kept his distance.

When weeks went by without the sight of him he began to think you finally did it, a call for celebration that made him want to go over to your place to challenge you for a friendly match of Mario Kart like you used to.

Until he ran into you in the hall and took note of what a mess you were, his smile falling from his face when he saw how defeated you looked.

Your shameful confirmation that you had been royally dumped made his heart twist for you, his selfless tendencies urging him to help you feel better in any way he could. You were thankful for it, grateful that he was keeping you company while you moped around, providing you with just the right amount of distraction to allow you to breathe and slowly heal.

Honestly, today would have been just another day if it wasn’t what was supposed to be your two year anniversary. The second Jungkook heard the telltale sounds of The Notebook starting up in your bedroom—something he hadn’t heard through the drywall separating your rooms in weeks—is when he knew something was up.

Jump to: now.

With Jungkook looking sheepish and wishing he had chosen another bar, and you gripping the cup so hard it was a shock it hadn’t shattered in your grasp.

“He’s with her,” you whisper out harshly, head downcast, swirling the liquid around in your glass as you force yourself not to look back at them. The vision of them coddled up in the corner, her arms wrapped around his while she laughed at whatever he whispered in her ear had stung enough the first time, you weren’t jealous but the pain still lingered inside of you..

“Just try to ignore him. Don’t let it bother you,” he attempts to reassure you, the bass of the music muffling the way you try to deny the fact that you’re clearly upset, his attention now elsewhere.

Jungkook takes a chance and looks back once more, eyes narrowed as he searches for Hajoon in the crowd. He spots him with more ease the second time, seeing the way he lazily drinks from his glass while the blonde rests her head on his shoulder, lips moving as she tells him something that makes him smile.

“Oh shit,” Jungkook chokes, eyes widening slightly in shock when Hajoon meets his gaze. He’s been caught, too late for him to avert his eyes and pretend he wasn’t blatantly staring. He can only give him a tight-lipped smile that he hopes doesn’t come across as an invitation to come say hello.

“What?” you question, turning to stare at Jungkook and seeing the look on his face, doe eyes swirling with a mix of emotions.

“He saw me,” he speaks through clenched teeth, lips barely moving as he does so, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

“What?” you repeat harshly, setting the drink back down as your palms grow clammy, finger tugging at your shirt’s neckline when the air becomes thick and stuffy.

“Oh fuck, he’s coming.” Jungkook throws back the remainder of his drink, grimacing at the burn lingering in the back of his throat before placing the cup down. “Just follow along,” he whispers into your ear, standing tall as Hajoon approaches the two of you.

He’s ballsy, Jungkook will give him that, more so when he completely ignores Jungkook in favor of calling out your name.

“Y/N, oh my god is that you?”

Jungkook can’t stop the way he glares at the bastard, not even the small jab to his side that you deliver with your elbow is enough to wipe the look off his face. Still, you pause to breathe, shutting your eyes briefly before plastering a look of surprise on your features as you turn around to face him.

“Hajoon, what are you doing here?” Your voice has risen a few octaves, pitch surpassing the normal customer service voice and entering unhinged and borderline crazed territory. Hajoon doesn’t notice though, and neither does the girl strapped to his side, the two of them smiling at you and not giving Jungkook a glance.

“Oh, we’re just celebrating our four month anniversary.” The girl finally speaks up, giving Hajoon a kiss to the cheek and completely missing the way your face instantly falls. Her innocent statement has you coming to the sudden realization that this son of a bitch had been cheating on you for the last two months of your relationship.

Jungkoon spots it easily though, can sense the way your body tenses up beside him, no doubt will the rage flare up in the form of hot tears spilling over and onto your cheeks soon. One look at Hajoon’s pleased face is enough to not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing the way he affects you.

“Young love,” Jungkook sighs, long arm pulling you into his side obnoxiously, seeing the way Hajoon eyes the two of you carefully. “I can relate. We’ve been together for...what is it again babe, five months?”

Hajoon doesn’t even attempt to be discreet, eyes bulging out and fist curling at his side. He had hated Jungkook the second he met him, intimidated by his physique and the way he made you laugh with ease, threatened by him in every sense. It was the reason he told you to cut ties with him, his fragile ego not trusting your neighbor, fully convinced all Jungkook would have to do was beckon you over for you to leave him.

Any man would feel threatened by him, just looking at him now with his long hair framing his face, the challenging glimmer in his eyes as he gauges the other’s reaction. Hajoon follows Jungkook’s arm, seeing how it snakes around your body and settles with his palms curling around your waist, fingers gently squeezing your skin.

Jungkook chuckles when Hajoon meets his gaze once more, free hand adjusting the yellow tinted sunglasses perched on his head—something that should make him look like an A class douchebag, because who the hell brings shades to a fucking club. But like all things, Jungkook makes it work.

All of this tied in with that small, white lie, makes Hajoon’s head spin in a jealous whirlwind. It was fine and dandy if he cheated on you but how dare you give him the same treatment, with your neighbor of all people.

“Five months?” He bites first, eyes bouncing back and forth between the two of you.

The insecurity is written all over his face, it almost makes him shrink in size and for some reason it fills you with confidence. You stand taller now, sliding your own arm around Jungkook’s side as you nuzzle into him.

“Almost six.” Those two words are the nails into his coffin of insecurity, probably increasing his trust issues for years to come, but considering it was no longer your problem, you don’t care.

“Wow, almost half a year. That’s so cute, isn’t it?” His girlfriend coos, perfectly manicured hand placed over her chest, totally missing the way Hajoon looks like a kicked puppy.

Now that he doesn’t have the one up, he’s no longer interested in sticking around, the gross green monster perched on his shoulder laughing at his misfortune.

“Adorable,” he grunts out. “We should get back to our table. It was nice seeing you.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before walking away, his girlfriend giving you a small wave before following behind him. The growing distance between you makes your muscles relax, sagging in relief as you release Jungkook’s side and hunch over the sticky bar.

“I think I'm gonna puke,” you groan out, eyes going crossed when you feel Jungkook rest two fingers against your lips, sending him a questionable stare.

“Please don’t, that drink was expensive. You’re only allowed to hurl as the grand finale of the night, and we’re just getting started.”

Jungkook smiles when you shut your eyes and groan, your mood was already down in the dumps, and despite the small rush you got from putting Hajoon in his place, you were still craving the comfort of your bed. “Can we go?”

The bartender proceeds to place a glass of water in front of you, assuming your slumped state was due to intoxication and not the gross remnants of running into an ex-boyfriend. You grab the glass regardless, taking a big gulp of the cool liquid and sighing when it helps calm you down.

“If you really want to go we can, but at least try to loosen up.” His smile is genuine, cheeks pushed out as he looks down at you with kind eyes. “We’ll stay on the opposite side, and if you’d still rather watch the Notebook for the millionth time, we can do that.”

With a half-hearted groan you nod, allowing Jungkook to order another round of drinks for you to enjoy before eventually dragging you out onto the dance floor. He knows how to keep the atmosphere up, goofy smile on his lips as he bobs his head along to the loud beat, hands clasped with yours and wiggling in time to the music.

“You love this song,” he manages to say through the noise, pulling you closer as he settles into a spot on the decently packed floor. You couldn’t even deny it, he heard just how often you played it through the paper thin walls. That playlist full of hit 2000’s songs was your guilty pleasure, and it was the main reason he had decided to bring you to this club on their themed night.

Jungkook was attentive, he knew so much about you and played it off casually, always listening to things you say you enjoy, storing them into a folder labeled under your name and shoved into a very important part of his brain.

You knew he was trying his best to get you to enjoy yourself, so you give in, beginning to sing along to the lyrics of an old song that brought back a flood of memories that made you smile back at him. Jungkook feels the first burst of success bloom inside him, joining in with your singing, raising up your clasped hands as you begin dancing.

The smile doesn’t leave his face as he stares down at you, the few drinks you’ve had loosening you up and allowing you to push the earlier thoughts away. He feels mesmerized, eyes locked onto you, the flash of colors painting your skin, illuminating you in alternating shades of purple and blue. His heart does that annoying thing where it skips and stutters in his chest, mouth drying up as you drop your head back and sway your hips, slowly loosening the grip in your hands and turning around until your back is dangerously close to his chest.

Jungkook’s hands hover in the air for a moment, panic over taking his brain as he tries to remain calm. He could do this—he has done this before—the two of you would go clubbing before you got with your ex, and dancing definitely played a big part of it. So why was his brain short circuiting?

Sure your ass was brushing up against his crotch with each sway of your hips, but you were dancing, so his mind and his dick could fuck right off. He shakes his head to clear any dirty thoughts as his hands loosely grip your hips, testing the water, and when you smile and look back at him he feels less wary and sways his hips in time with yours.

You can feel his chest brush against your back, breath fanning along your skin from his close proximity, only getting closer when you lift an arm back and hold his shoulder to pull him tighter against you. The heat sticks to your skin, thin shirt dampening with sweat from the warmth of the bodies around you, everyone in their own state of drunkenness as the bass flowed through their chests.

Going out like this had been something you missed, used to frequenting the bars and clubs by your apartment with your friends and Jungkook, something that came to a halt because your ex claimed he hated that kind of scene. Something that was clearly a lie considering he was here now, enjoying himself as him and his new girlfriend danced along.

You didn’t realize when he made his way onto the dance floor, enough distance separating you, but now that you had spotted him you feel like he’s way too close for comfort. In a similar position to you and Jungkook, Hajoon is free to look around while his girlfriend dances on him, eyes locked onto you with a smirk that makes your skin crawl.

Jungkook is too lost in the music to notice where your attention has gone, earlier effects of the alcohol settling into his bloodstream, warming him up in that familiar way he welcomes. When the song changes, flowing into the next bass heavy anthem, you turn around in his grasp, giving him a brief glance before your hands are gripping his cheeks and bringing him down into a messy kiss.

This is definitely something he’s never done with you before.

A muffled sound of confusion is swallowed by you as he quickly falls into the motion, large palms gripping your hips, slowly sliding up your back before lightly tangling into your hair to deepen the kiss. Jungkook can taste the liquor on your tongue, mixing with his own as your tongue slips between his lips. He has no idea what came over you but his racing heart and buried crush don’t let him question it, soft lips smacking with yours, not heard between the thrumming music.

Your fingers feel the warmth of his cheeks, how he blushes into the kiss but you attribute it to the alcohol pumping through him. Harsh breaths fan across your face as he groans, lightly pulling back for a gasp of air but you don’t allow it. “No, don’t pull away. Not yet.”

And who is he to argue with that, blindly letting you bring your lips back together in a messy kiss. Your small pleas for him to continue has all the blood rushing to his cock, the ache felt in his jeans when it starts to harden, pressing into the denim uncomfortably and only getting worse when you gently bite down onto his lip before inching back.

“Is he still looking?” you question, breath jagged as you peer up at Jungkook’s dazed expression.

“What?” he dumbly replies, lips swollen and shiny, eyes still focused on your own as he makes an attempt to reconnect your lips. But then your question dawns on him, like a bucket of ice cold water, it sobers him up instantly. Is he still looking?

This was all for show.

“He’s on the far right.” You motion your head in the direction and observe his face when his eyes move over to check if Hajoon was in fact still there. He does spot him heading out in a hurry though, girlfriend trailing behind him as he exits the club entirely

“No, just saw him leave.” Jungkook clears his throat, fingers slipping out of your hair and settling down over your back just like before. He hopes his solemn expression isn’t amplified by the lights flashing across his face, trying his best to act unaffected, as if he didn’t just pop a boner on the dance floor over a revenge make-out session.

Luckily you don’t spot his fallen expression, a wide smile spreading across your face in victory, happy that you had successfully put him in his place.

“I’m so sorry for kissing you.” You gasp in realization, unknowingly pouring salt in the wound when you act as if kissing him was something you would never do if it wasn’t in an attempt to piss off your ex.

“No, it’s okay,” he waves off and smiles, eyes glancing over to the bar once more. Jungkook needed a drink, maybe five—actually he wouldn’t mind going home and watching The Notebook now, that would surely give him a reason to cry with no questions asked.

He starts to walk back to the bar with you by his side, the sad look you had earlier entirely gone, replaced with a giddy smile and a pep in your step, so he can’t say he's too upset.

“God, you should’ve seen how mad he looked when he saw us dancing together,” you giggle, standing inches from him as he orders another drink. Before he can respond, you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him in for a hug.

A hug, really?

Still, Jungkook sighs and wraps his own arms around your waist, a defeated smile on his face that he hides as he lets his chin rest over your head. The dip in his head makes the yellow tinted frames fall over his eyes and when he pulls back you snort at the visual, finger gently poking the bridge of them.

“You look good in those.”

His drink gets placed in front of him then, giving him a good excuse to avoid stumbling over his words from your compliment, choosing to take a gulp of the hard liquor, wincing when it burns his throat. “Thank you,” he rasps out, grimacing at the taste and it just makes you giggle.

“I should be thanking you. You need to be my fake boyfriend more often.”

Even more salt poured into his wound, topped with a dash of lemon juice in the form of your playful smile and nudge to his ribs, it stings. His heart ache in his chest, more so when he realizes his stupid boner was still going strong. Thankfully the dark lights prevent you from seeing it, the last thing he needed was further embarrassment.

The yellow frames are placed back over his head as he takes another sip, nodding along to your statement with what he hopes comes across as a genuine smile on his lips once he sets his cup down. “Anytime you want Y/N.”

“I know this night didn’t end with the grand finale of me puking, but do you wanna go home and watch movies? No sappy romance ones, I'm not in the mood for crying anymore.”

He finishes his drink with ease, quickly closing his tab as he agrees. “Yeah, just let me go to the bathroom real quick.”

You might not be in the mood for crying but he definitely was; he also needed to handle the situation in his jeans, and what better night to stoop this low than tonight. His own version of a grand finale coming in the form of jerking off in the dirty bar bathroom while maybe shedding a tear or two.

“Okay! I’ll call an uber,” you announce cheerfully, allowing him to walk away as you settle onto one of the sticky bar stools.

Jungkook’s chest feels heavy as he walks to the bathroom, slipping into the small room and locking the door behind him. His forehead rests against the dirty door, eyes falling shut with a groan. He wishes he had the guts to confess to his crush, needing to push the fear of ruining the friendship away from his mind, wanting to gather possible clues that could indicate that you might feel the same.

One day, but not yet.

#ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #heartsforbts #btsghostie #bangtaninn #btscreatorscorner #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts fluff #jeon jungkook #bts imagines #new

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nightowlwriting · 3 years

Text

summary: a tavern owner gets mouthy. you get mad. molly finds out you love him. (part 6/13 of the kindness series, a thematically connected series of c2/exu imagines)

word count: ≈700

warnings: derogatory comments made toward molly & jester being tieflings

masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

To be fair, you do have a hairpin trigger. The tavern owner didn’t know that when he said what he said. When the tavern owner sneered at Molly and Jester, when he opened his mouth - When he said we don’t serve your kind here you couldn’t control yourself. It had already been a bad day and you were really looking forward to a good night in, but then he’d said that and it was the last straw.

Fjord and Caleb had tried to catch you by the arms when you launched yourself to the front of the group but they failed. Molly and Jester caught you, though, when you tried to push between them, and held you there. “Fuck you,” You seeth, ignoring the way that Molly is rubbing soothing circles on your back and Jester is telling you to calm down. “Oh, you’re such a piece of shit, a real piece of work.” You’re sneering too, jerking to get away from Molly and Jester, to just get close to the tavern owner - who now looks rather surprised and scared. “I ought to beat the shit out of you.”

The owner gasps and takes a step back when you break free from Jester’s grip, throwing yourself forward. Molly compensates and wraps his arms around your biceps, hiking your arms back and up so that your shoulders are painfully high and back, legs barely scraping the ground as you struggle to get toward the man to maim him.

“Darling,” Molly coos softly in your ear, “It’s fine, we’re used to it. Let us fight our battles.” His words make you sag in his arms, tears cresting in your eyes as the anger prods at all of your emotional reactions. Despite what he’s saying, Molly walks you several steps closer to the tavern owner. “Sometimes,” He raises his voice, “Fighting my battle with you would be to let go.” The threat hangs heavy in the air as your heart thrums heavily in your chest. You can almost hear the smirk in Molly’s voice when the tavern owner pales once more.

“I-I’m sorry,” He stutters, “I didn’t mean-”

“You never do,” Jester chimes in, voice dark, “People like you never mean it when someone confronts you. You only mean it when we lay down and take it.” When Jester approaches, magic at her fingertips, Molly tugs you back and away. When he feels satisfied with the distance he turns you in his arms. You’re still shaking, angrier than you’ve ever been, but the smug look on Molly’s face calms you. It should make you angrier, the way his tail is swishing behind him like the cat that got the cream, but it calms you down.

“You don’t have to defend us, you know. Defend me. I was a carnie at one point and have surely heard worse.”

“I know I should let you deal with it unless you ask,” You speak slowly, still trying to think around the anger bouncing around in your head and the fact that you’re in Molly’s arms, “I know that. But I can’t… When people say that about you two, especially you Molly, I can’t think straight. I can’t stand it.”

“Oh, so I’m special.” He says, coyly. You look away, trying to convince yourself that the blush crawling up your chest and onto your cheeks is from the anger you’re feeling from still being able to hear Jester give the tavern owner a proper dressing down behind you. “I didn’t realize you thought so highly of me.”

You’re caught off guard when he caresses your cheek and maybe that’s why you say what you say. “I love you, Molly. I’d give my life if it meant you’d be happy.”

“Well, you love me very loudly then, don’t you? I think the whole town heard you defending Jester and me.” He’s beaming despite his teasing and you resist the urge to stomp your foot like a child. You just confessed your love for him, and he’s teasing you? But then Molly’s face softened and he pressed his lips against your cheek and let his tail wrap around your thigh. “I suppose I will just have to let them know that I love you just as loudly.”

#critical role imagine #c2 imagine #cr imagine #mollymauk / reader #mollymauk tealeaf imagine #mollymauk imagine #mollymauk x reader #campaign 2 imagine #critfic

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oitommothetease · 3 years

Text

Invisible String (13/15)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 2.2k words

Warning : angst, violence, sad reader, sad Bucky, shitty Rumlow, maybe Steve isn’t that bad, the doughnuts are back from chapter 11, did I mention angst?, angst, more angst

Everything was dark, you noticed. When you slowly returned to consciousness, you half expected to be in your bed with Bucky tangled beside you, just like in your dreams. He fit so perfectly in your bed — your life and you, as if he was a part of you, and you weren't sure where he ended and where you began.

But when you moved to stretch your aching limbs, they moved a few inches before halting by some sort of restriction. Instantly, the bubble of your dreams burst, and everything came to your mind, and you abruptly looked around to find him. Bucky was still unconscious — tied to a chair, but instead of rope like yours, he was tied down with manacles. He had restraints on his wrists and ankles. You were sort of offended that they didn’t think you were strong enough to be captured like him. Not that you wanted those manacles anywhere near your body, but you preferred not to be treated as if you were meek.

What could be worse than getting kidnapped? It's definitely getting rekidnapped with the person who came to rescue you. Clint lied, he was working with Rumlow. His source was nothing but an ambush for Bucky. There were more than 4 of Rumlow’s men in the warehouse. Clint lied so that Bucky would come under prepared and he fell right into the trap.

Earlier, it was just you in a room alone, but now it was you and Bucky in a dingy cell-like room with a closed door. He was still knocked out when the man known as Rumlow walked in. You recalled him from the time he came to the club, and you wanted nothing more than to run towards the safe embrace of your lover.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Rumlow’s steps halted when he was near your tied form. His hand came for your cheek and naturally, you recoiled away. Your rejection didn’t deter him, it only fueled his fury more as he held your chin tightly in his other hand and made you look at him. You attempted to get out of his grasp, which only angered him more, and he struck his hand to your face. It ached so much and it was so loud that it jolted Bucky up.

“Will you look at that,” Rumlow mocked, pushing your face away from his hold. “Lover boy can feel her pain.”

It took a second for Bucky to drink in the sight and commemorate everything. Once everything came back to him, he looked at you deplorably, his eyes filled with concern and guilt as he saw the blood dripping down your face.

“Get away from her, Rumlow!” Bucky seethed when his gaze was back at the man who hurt you. Despite the warning, Rumlow moved more towards you. One hand running his knuckles on your face in an attempt to be soothing, while the other held your chin in a painful grip.

“Why do you get to keep such a pretty thing all to yourself?” Rumlow asked rhetorically. “I should get a taste too.”

Before Bucky could try to do something, a knock on the door attracted everyone’s attention. Clint came in with a look of victory on his face.

“You betraying son of a bitch,” you hissed. Unlike Bucky, you didn’t have much self-restraint or any wise escape plan cooking in your head. “Why the fuck did you do it?”

“You’re new, sweetheart,” Clint pointed out, his tone condescending. “You don't know how it works.”

“What I know is that your wife is friends with Wanda's girlfriend,” you retorted back immediately. You were tired of being seen as weak. ”How will she feel when she finds out that you betrayed Bucky?”

A look of uncertainty came over Clint's face and you continued, “I might be new, sweetheart, but I’m not dumb.”

When Clint was astounded, Rumlow spoke up,” Ah, the power of pillow talk. You are one feisty little bitch. What else did he tell you? Did he tell you that his work is not illegal and he sells weapons to the government?”

You looked at Bucky, hoping that the man you knew and loved was nothing like this monster who assaulted you. Rumlow continued, “Barnes, Rogers and I started this whole a business together. They enjoyed the money that was brought in with our illegal escapade. He enjoyed girls like you every day. Until one day, the childhood buddies decided it was time to go clean. And they just left us in pursuit of some dream life.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just looked over at Bucky who was staring at the floor as if waiting for it to open and swallow him whole. Was he ashamed of his past? Did he think that his past would make you love him any less? If he did, then he was highly mistaken because now you didn't see James as your arrogant boss. Now you saw a young boy who made some questionable choices and, to make a better life for himself and his family, he changed his direction. Now you saw a reckless boy who did stupid shit in his past like everyone in the world and instead of letting it define him, he made a better life for himself. Now you saw a hardworking boy who worked his ass off to build an empire for himself and his loved ones. All of these versions of him existed before you, but you only saw one — the one that mattered to you at least, you just saw the love of your life, your Bucky.

The universe might have listened to your pleas because Rumlow’s phone rang and both he and Clint exited the room. You didn’t know how to start a conversation with Bucky. He didn't want to, that you were sure of. What were you supposed to say? That his hardship and past made him look hotter in your eyes? You wanted to avoid romanticizing his struggles, so you resorted to the only thing you do when you are tense.

“This is not the lunch date I had in mind,” you teased, forcefully huffing to make the situation seem less intense. When Bucky did not respond or even looked at you, you retorted to another antic. “I remember that song name, you know — Invisible String. Taylor Swift, of course. It would make an excellent bakery name. We can -”

“We can what?” Bucky finally snapped, “You want me to fire my friends and convert the most profitable club into a fucking bakery, huh?”

“Is that what you want? A life with a man who got you involved in this shit?” you flinched at his harsh words. You knew this wasn’t your Bucky — your Bucky was all about sweet touches, teasing words and passionate kisses. No, this was the Bucky that Rumlow recognized.

“You don’t mean that,” you whispered, your tone gentle. “I’m sorry you're stuck here because of me, but -”

He cut you off. “Doll,” he exhaled, his voice devoid of all the venom present a moment ago, It was filled with the adoration towards you that you were used to; Nonetheless, it still made you feel dizzy all the time. His face softened before saying, “This isn’t your fault. It’s mine. I got you into this mess. I should have stayed away from you.”

You opened your mouth to object. You wanted to tell him that he was being stupid — that you would get through this together, but he sustained.

“I will stay away from you,” he pondered, his eyes avoiding yours again.

No, you wouldn't let that happen. You finally had him, and you wouldn't let Rumlow get into Bucky's head. “We’ll talk about this later, okay?”

“There is nothing to talk about,” he concluded, “When we are out of here. I will maintain my distance.”

You tried to ask him to stop saying that, but he kept ignoring your words and looked at the wall behind you for almost an hour. When it got to your nerves, and you were starting to get pissed he started whistling a song you weren’t quite familiar with. “Seriously? How old are you? Five?”

He didn’t respond. “So what? You're just gonna ignore me while we’re tied here?”

“Hey, let's play a game,” you tried again.

Before you could lose all your patience and start yelling at him, you heard grunting sounds from behind the door. You shuddered, swallowing the lump in your throat. You didn’t want to see Rumlow again, in fact, you never wanted to see Rumlow.

Sensing your discomfort made Bucky finally speak up. “Y/N, look at me,” his voice sweet as ever, as if he hadn't been ignoring you for the past hour. You looked at him, and he held your gaze, assuring you, “I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak anything. Both of you held your breath, waiting for someone to walk in and hurt you more, but it never came. All that came was a blond man with a gun in his hand, whom you recognized instantly — Steve. You didn't like that man one bit because he clearly disliked you, but at that moment, he was your angel who came to your rescue.

Immediately, Steve ran towards his pal who nodded his head towards you, indicating his friend to let you out of the restraint first. Again, he had manacles around his wrists and limbs, and he wanted you to be free of the rope that was around you. Steve took his friend’s request and freed you of your restriction before doing the same for Bucky.

When you stood up, the world stood up with you, and you realized that you hadn’t eaten anything in more than 24 hours. You almost collapsed on the floor when two strong hands came to your relief and held you. You didn’t need to keep your eyes open to see who it was. Likewise, you knew it was Bucky — you could recognize his touch anywhere, and just liked that you passed out.

The next time you gained awareness, you were moving swiftly. It took you a few seconds to acknowledge that you were in a car. You craned your neck upward to find your head situated on a hard and firm chest, Bucky looked down at you and engulfed you tighter to his side, your legs resting on his lap while his free hand was settled on the back of your thigh, holding you closer to him.

“Doll,” his voice was barely audible, and you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't so close to him or if he didn't whisper it in your ear. “You gotta eat something.”

Tiredly, you nodded and Bucky nudged you softly, encouraging you to straighten up a little before eating something. You straightened your back and somebody passed a box from the passenger seat. Steve, you recognized him and the person in the driver's seat — Sam. Both of them looked at you sympathetically, and you smiled at them, or at least tried to. You were so exhausted.

Bucky opened the box and took out a doughnut, which you brought for him that morning, or was it the previous morning? How long had it been since you were kidnapped?

Two doughnuts and one bottle of water later, you were back at your apartment. Bucky’s hand rested on the small of your back as Steve and Sam followed both of you. You hesitated before unlocking the door, and Bucky ran his hand on your back reassuringly as he ensured you, “I’ve got you, doll.”

Bucky said something to Sam and Steve, but you were too exhausted to listen. Once they were gone, Bucky strode towards you, cupping your face in his hands as he scanned your face for all the wounds. “How about you clean up, and I’ll get the first aid kit. Okay, doll?”

Just like the whole night or day or whatever time it was, you didn't remember most of the bath. You remembered going into the shower — you remembered water running down your body — you remembered seeing red water (probably from your bruises) seeping in the drain — you remembered seeing someone in the mirror you didn't recognize — you remembered falling to the floor and crying and most importantly you remembered calling for Bucky.

As if standing outside the door, Bucky was crouched over you instantly . He wrapped a towel around your naked form and held you on the bathroom floor while you cried and finally acknowledged the trauma that you had encountered.

Bucky held you as you continued to cry in muffled sobs against his chest. When you fell asleep, he placed you and tucked you in your bed comfortably before getting in himself. You wrapped your arms around him in your sleep and held him like the anchor he was to you. Bucky pressed a kiss in your hair and whispered his love and apologies to you for pulling you into his messed up life. You couldn't fathom a word he confessed before sleep finally engulfed you.

TAGS : @bananapipedreams @akkinda10 @rivers-rambles21 @emmabarnes @valsworldofcreativity @boofy1998 @marvel-3407 @mybuck @priii @coffeebooksandfandom @ladydmalfoy @shaking-a-jar-of-bees @elizamalfoyy @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @sabrinathesimp

A/N - Hey, I finally made a Taglist .This was a very intense (please don’t hate me) I love you bye. Take care!

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fic

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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

Text

Day 12: Adrenaline

"You are such a bloody, fucking arsehole!" Harry shouted, as he burst into his partner's room at St. Mungo's. "I can't believe you."

"Could you lower your voice, please?" Draco asked, he was gingerly rubbing his temples.

"No, I cannot bloody well lower my voice!" Harry seethed as he looked at the other man. Draco was pale and quite obviously in pain, his slender frame resting stiffly against the mattress. "I am unbelievably pissed with you."

"Yes, well, I have a concussion and my head is pounding-"

Harry growled, "Well whose fault is that?"

"Potter, I am begging you to save the theatrics until my potion has kicked in and I'm not seeing sounds," the other man groaned. "Literally begging."

"Well you should have thought of that before you jumped in front of those arseholes who were shooting a stunner and bombarda at me."

Draco groaned and let his head fall back against the pillow, "This has got to be karma. Having your ungrateful arse as my auror partner is karma for all of my past sins. Merlin have mercy."

Harry opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by one of the nurses, Matilda if Harry remembered correctly. "Auror Potter, I'm going to need to ask you to step out of the room."

"Thank fucking Merlin," Malfoy sighed.

Matilda raised an eyebrow, "I'm going to need Auror Malfoy to strip down so we can put his dislocated, and partially shattered, hips back together. It's also going to be fairly painful."

"Good," Harry growled, "Remember this next time you try to put yourself in harm's way for me."

He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. After a heartbeat, Harry shoved his glasses up into his hair so he could scrub his hands over his face.

(Read more below the cut)

As the adrenaline faded from his system, Harry's body started to feel a bit weak, legs quaking slightly, his heart hammering against his ribs, breath coming a touch too fast. He staggered away from the door and over to the row of chairs along the wall for people to wait.

Draco cried out in pain on the other side of the door and his fists clenched. He wished he hadn't said that; the other man being in pain wasn't good and he wished he could take it away.

Harry wasn't sure how long he sat there with his head in his hands, hearing the occasional outcry from Draco's room, before Ron showed up and clapped him on the shoulder.

"How is he?" Ron asked as he collapsed next to him.

"Ouch, fuck!" they heard shouted from the room across the hall. "That fucking-" a pause as the other man groaned, "hurts."

"Not great," Harry replied.

Ron nodded, "But conscious."

Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair, "You've finished processing those wankers?"

"Yes," he affirmed. "It was lucky, actually, that Malfoy blocked the spells," he said. "The cases behind you would have exploded with even the slightest hint of magic touching them."

"Great," he said with a sigh, feeling even more guilty.

"He's going to be okay," Ron said softly and to his horror Harry felt tears prickling at the back of his eyes.

"How do you even know that?" Harry asked, "No one told you he was going to be okay."

Ron snorted, "If he wasn't you would have burned everything to the ground by now."

His best friend probably wasn't wrong about that. He couldn't even bear the thought of losing Draco without feeling like he couldn't breathe. "He shouldn't have done that," Harry said finally.

Ron shook his head, "Done what? His job?"

"He shouldn't have put himself in the line of fire," Harry replied. "Not for me."

"Right," Ron said, "Just like you shouldn't put yourself in the line of fire for him, but just last week-"

"It's different," Harry said vehemently.

"It wasn't different for him," Ron said quietly. "I sat here having an identical conversation last week, only it was you in the bed." He shook his head, "Look, mate, you know I'm not ever one to advocate for talking things out, but..." he trailed off, leaving the rest of the sentence unsaid.

The trouble was that Harry didn't know how to respond, didn't know what to say to Ron or Draco. Before he could come up with anything, Matilda came out of Draco's room. She nodded at Harry, "You can go in now," she offered.

"Is he going to be here overnight?" Ron called.

"He's regrowing bones, Auror Weasley. Yes, he'll be here overnight."

Ron winced, "I'm going to go pick up Indian and bring it back. The food here is terrible."

"Thanks," Harry replied.

"Go on," Ron said, nudging Harry toward the room. "Go get things sorted."

Harry sighed, but squared his shoulders and stood up, moving toward the door and summoning every ounce of his Griffyndor bravery.

When he got to the door he knocked before entering. The moment Draco caught sight of him he groaned, "Potter, please. I can't take the lectures right now. Regrowing bones is a bitch."

Harry drew up a chair beside his bed and didn't say anything for a moment. Then he took a slow deep breath and said, "You terrify me."

Malfoy rolled his eyes and then winced in pain.

Harry continued before he could say anything, "And I know I sound like a complete hypocrite-"

"Too right, you do," Malfoy grunted.

"But it scares the shit out of me," Harry pressed on. "Draco I can't-" he broke off, shaking his head and the other man turned his head to look at him more fully. "I can't lose you."

"And you think that I can lose you?" he countered.

"I don't know," Harry said, "I don't know." He rubbed his hands over his face. "I don't think I can do this anymore."

He glanced up in time to see the hurt flash across Draco's face before he reigned it in. "Fine. That's fine. Put in the transfer request and I'll sign it."

"No, I mean all of it," Harry said, clearing his throat. "I can't do the cases, I can't be the reason that people get hurt." He shook his head, "I'm tired, Draco. I'm so tired.” He swallowed, "and I want my life to be more than this."

Draco looked away, staring unseeingly at the set of drawers across from his bed. "Well, I wish you the best then," the other man replied, voice cold as stone.

Harry swallowed and summoned up a bit more courage, "Leave with me," he said.

"What?"

"Leave with me. Let's start our own business, we can become private investigators and get out from under all of the bureaucratic bullshit. Or let's do anything else. Literally anything. You want to have a coffee shop? Done. Quidditch supply store? I'm there. Want to remodel homes? Count me in. I will do anything that you want to," Harry closed his eyes, imaging it, then he said, "because if we're not Auror partners anymore, I can finally tell you the truth."

"What truth?" the other man asked hesitantly.

He took a deep breath and blew it out before sitting up straighter in his chair. "I'm in love with you," Harry said simply.

Draco blinked once, then a second time as he stared uncomprehendingly at Harry. "Potter, what?" Draco spluttered. "I'm the one with the concussion here, not you. Did you hit your head? Are you feeling confused?"

Harry laughed, "No, I'm not. Honestly, everything feels simpler than it has in ages. I don't expect you to feel the same or anything, we can stay friends-"

"Are you joking?" Draco asked and Harry winced and looked down at where his hands were clenched, clasping one another. The other man continued, "You don't expect me to feel the same? How could you possibly think I don't feel the same?"

Harry's head snapped up, "What?"

"Potter, I've been in love with you since the Alvarez case."

"Really?" he asked incredulously. That case had happened years ago at this point. It was one of their first cases together.

Draco nodded, "It's stupid, but watching you with that little boy-"

"Julian," Harry said, nodding at the memory.

"You were so sweet with him and so protective. And I realized that it wasn't an act, it's just who you are and I was doomed." He shook his head, "Of course I'm in love with you, you idiot."

He stared at him for a moment, looked into those clear silver eyes that he loved so much, "Can I kiss you?"

"Very gently," Draco replied, "Because as much as I would like to kiss you, my head is still killing me and I'm not supposed to move my neck very much."

Harry huffed a soft laugh before moving closer. He cupped his cheek and gently trailed his thumb over Draco's bruised cheekbone, trying to avoid causing any more pain. His eyes flicked up to Draco's before he closed them and leaned in touch their lips together. Two soft pecks were all he allowed himself before pulling back and brushing a feather-light kiss over his temple.

"Ah!" Ron blurted from the doorway, making both Harry and Draco jump, "Sorry, I'll come back-"

"Ron, it's fine," Harry said, pressing one more soft kiss to Draco's forehead before collapsing back into the chair beside the bed.

"No, I want to have plausible deniability at the Ministry when-"

"I'm quitting," Harry said.

"We're quitting," Draco added.

Harry grinned at him, "Really?"

"Yes," he said, smiling back.

"And you should quit too," Harry said, turning to Ron, "Come join our private detective firm."

"But first, bring us that Indian food," Draco said.

Ron rolled his eyes, "Years of this," he said gesturing between the two of them. "Years of watching you two idiots pining after one another and that's it. You just decide to quit?"

"Yes, well," Harry replied, clearing his throat, "I think I'm going to need to have more free time than the ministry allows."

"Oh, is that so?" Draco replied with a smirk, his voice smooth like honey.

"Alright," Ron said, "That is enough of that. If you want me to come work with you, we're going to need to nip that in the bud right now."

Harry laughed and held up his hands in surrender.

"I am happy for you two, though," Ron said.

"Me, too." Harry replied. Suddenly looking forward to the future more than he had in a long time.

Day 11: Pinky Promise | Day 13: Drunk

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #drarry drabbles #drarry ficlets #auror partners #injured on a case #love confessions #idiots in love #thanks for the prompt anon #enjoy!#day 12 #day 12: adrenaline

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imonthinice · 3 years

Text

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 22/?

Word Count: 1.8k

Author's Note: Y/N - Your name, A/N - Any name (Your best friend's name)

We're back, we're in full swing, we've hit like 50 followers, we've hit 500 notes. We're thriving.

Also! Fun fact but I can't actually watch Young Justice season 3 (and 4) or Titans :/ They're on DC Universe, which is only available in America. (If you can't catch on, I'm not from America lol)

Warnings: Swearing, Description of Injury, Kidnapping, Police/ Justice System, Manipulation attempts, Gaslighting, Violence, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20) (Part 21) (Part 22)

The days became longer and kept bothering Y/N. She was losing grip on reality. Aria would come in occasionally and feed her. Give her water. Let her use the bathroom. She was stuck. She wanted to knock off that stupid fucking bird plague doctor mask and, look her pathetic sister in her eyes. And let Aria know that she knew, she knew who it was.

But she was backed into a corner. And the mask was not going to come off anytime. Boy, oh boy, she wanted it to fall. She wanted it to slip so she could boot it into the walls she had become accustomed to. She wanted it to fall and shatter.

Aria came into the room like normal, to be greeted by Y/N not even looking her in the eyes.

"Come here, love," Aria said.

"Go to Hell."

"I need to use you for a "Proof of Life" video. So I can use you for ransom. Come here."

"No."

"Come here. Now," Aria said, voice getting more hoarse and pissed off with Y/N and her actions.

"No."

"Come. Here. Now!" She screeched.

"No!"

She felt Aria's claws grab her wrists and dig in, she could feel the blood seeping through the claws from her wrists. Aria pushed her into the wall, still gripping her wrists and letting the blood flow down Y/N's arms.

"Listen here, you fucking bitch," Aria said, dropping her voice a few octaves, to seem intimidating. "I want that money. If you don't cooperate, I'll kill you."

Y/N whimpered but spat at her sister, "You'll fucking die trying."

Aria wrestled Y/N into her seat and handcuffed her to it. She then set up the video camera.

"And, recording. Talk."

"I fucking hate you."

"You should."

"Go to fucking Hell."

"The date is February 14th. Here," she shoved a newspaper into the view of the camera, Y/N didn't even notice Aria bring it in. She saw the article on the back of her kidnapping. She knew people were still talking.

"Here is the date. On a newspaper. This video will be released today. If I don't get the money within a week, I'll kill her. Along with the Waynes."

Y/N gulped. This just got so much more real than she was expecting.

Aria left the room, with Y/N still handcuffed to the chair. She took in the room she had become used to. She had spent a week in captivity, expecting the vigilantes of Gotham to come and get them, but they didn't. She was confused as to why-

Wait a damn minute, she thought. Are you- Wait- Wait- Wait- Wait. Oh my god? The family is in captivity, the vigilantes haven't come for us yet, are- she paused. Are they the vigilantes? There's no way, they can't be- Can they? They can- Can't they, huh? Fuck. We're- We're not getting out anytime soon. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

This is a God damn pickle we've gotten into. Aria must know what I think, the family- she paused, almost as if she didn't believe what she was thinking. That they're the Gotham vigilantes. She must- Fuck!

I don't care that they didn't tell me- she thought like someone could read her thoughts. She figured that someone might be able to. She knew that Martian Manhunter had those abilities. she figured that Miss Martian, who she didn't see often, likely shared those abilities.

I care that we might be fucked.

---------------------------------------

Before she knew it, that exact day, she figured, February 14th? The door was broken down by Superman. This just put the pieces together more for Y/N. Her assumptions about the Waynes being the Gotham vigilantes were just seeming more likely as time went on.

Superman uncuffed her and she thanked him before running out to where Aria was being arrested by the Gotham police. But she didn't stop, and she knocked off Aria's mask.

"Oh, hi Y/N," Aria said, nonchalantly.

"Oh, hi Y/N," Y/N mocked. "You fucking bitch!" she yelled and pushed Aria, while the police tried to detain her. She struggled and tried to attack Aria further, "Let go! I know her power of attorney is going to be her sister-"

"How do you know that?" Commissioner Gordon asked.

"Because her sister is me!" She yelled when she finally broke away from the police, trying to get closer to Aria, before Commissioner Gordon stopped her, grabbing her arms and squeezing lightly. She stared at him, dead-faced. No emotions were there, other than anger, raw, seething anger.

Aria laughed, "Oops. I guess the jig is up."

Y/N was seething, she didn't even notice the JLA and the rest of the Waynes were behind her. She was still struggling to get towards Aria, yelling and just making noise.

She was making a scene, but she didn't care. She felt betrayed.

"You fucking bitch. You absolutely pathetic piece of shit."

"Keep yelling at me, Y/N. Mom and Dad will be disappointed in you. They always are, aren't they?"

Y/N turned to Commissioner Gordon, who was still holding her in place, "You either get her out of my fucking face in 5 seconds or I'm going to hurt her. That's not a threat," she turned to Aria, "That's a fucking promise."

"We might have to detain you at this rate, Y/N."

"And I would understand that, but I'm going to hurt her."

"Ma'am, calm down." Commissioner Gordon said before waving his hand and the other police took Aria into the back of a police car. "I'm going to have to arrest you," he said, trying to show sympathy for the pain that Y/N was in.

"Then do it already," Y/N mumbled, eyes still locked on the police car her sister was in.

"Gordon?" Jason called, "I swear, I've never seen this much anger in her. I'm sure you can send her home with us."

"You better be right about that, Jason."

"I really think I am right."

Gordon looked at Y/N, which she caught in the corner of her eye. She could tell he was upset about this, he was trying to get to her, to get her to understand her anger was okay, but beating her sister wasn't.

And then Aria waved as they drove her to the station.

But she wasn't even paying attention and before she knew it, she was in Jason's arms. He was holding her while talking to the police about the attack. He had his hands wrapped around her waist while he was behind her, maximizing the ability he had to stop her should she run.

He knew what he was doing, and it was working to calm her slightly, to the point where the police were able to talk to her about her experience with the attacker they knew as Hour, or as Arianna (Last name).

Once they were done with questioning her, they spoke more to Jason, who still had her in his grasp.

She surveyed the area and noticed that Bruce was talking to Superman.

The pieces were all falling into place. She knew he had to be Batman at that moment.

And she wanted in on it.

The hopelessness she felt when Aria had her kidnapped was astronomical. She wanted to make sure no one ever felt that way again, not if she could help it. She wanted in on it all.

She thought back to Jason's stab wound, the scar still fresh. She knew it wasn't a mugging. It had to be him saving the city from peril. She realized how dumb she was for buying into that lie, but she wasn't mad at anyone in her vicinity.

She was mad- pissed- so far beyond angry at Aria.

She didn't know she could be so angry. She didn't know she had it in her to be so angry at Aria. But she was. She was so unbelievably pissed. Any mention of her name sent Y/N into seething anger, and Jason could feel her heart race in her body.

She wasn't paying attention to words anymore. She just wanted to get out of there, to go home. To her home, not Jason's. She didn't feel safe in the Wayne Manor anymore.

No one could blame her when she told the police to drive her to her house, not the Wayne Manor. Jason just hugged her and asked when he could see her next. She told him in the morning. "Or," she added, "At 3 in the morning. I don't care. Just leave me alone right now."

Everyone understood. They didn't have their own sister kidnap them after all.

She got to her house and got inside, A/N immediately trying to flag her down to talk to her, but she just put up a hand and waved her off. Slinking to her room without a second thought and locking the door.

She didn't want to talk about it. The thoughts about her sister racing through her mind. The thoughts about how her boyfriend was a vigilante. How was she going to bring this up? How was she going to tell him that she knew? That she wanted in on the act? That she wanted to fight alongside him- and his family?

Before she knew it, and like clockwork, it was 3 in the morning. And Jason was knocking on her window. She assumed that he had tried to let himself into her room, but to no avail since she hadn't unlocked the door.

She went over to her window and unlocked it. She lifted it and Jason crawled in.

"I have a front door," she said.

"You didn't answer when I tried to knock on your door," he joked. "How are you holding up?"

"As well as anyone can in my situation."

"Well, everyone wishes you came home with us, so we could watch you on your first night away from-"

"From my sister?"

"I was going to say from captivity."

"So, my sister."

"Yeah, that."

"Uh-huh."

"So, anyway," Jason said, trying to get Y/N's mind off of Aria. "Did you sleep when you got here?" he asked.

"No. I was busy."

"Doing what?"

"Lost in thought. There's a lot of thoughts, not enough brain," she joked. "You probably get that part."

"I do-"

"When were you going to tell me?" she but in.

"Tell you what?" he questioned, confused.

"That you're one of the vigilantes," she answered, studying his face. He seemed taken aback by the statement and tried to avert her gaze. Oh yeah, he knows what I'm on about, she thought.

"I-"

"You know what I'm on about, Jay. You know I know so don't lie anymore."

"Y/N-"

"No. You know I know. I know you know. Don't lie anymore. I'm not even ad at the lies, you're trying to keep me safe, obviously."

"Oh."

"The truth is, babe, I want in."

"What!?"

(Oh my god? Are we going to get Red Hood action? (The answer is yes, in due time)

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aseioh · 3 years

Text

Of Cakes and Late Celebrations

Author’s Notes: This was supposed to be posted on Mother's day. But just like this fic, I got derailed and ended up being late. (picture taken from the internet)

It was Mother's day.

Or to be precise it will be Mother's day in 15 hours 25 minutes. It shouldn't be a problem for Alcina, she usually just buys something from the Duke to give to Mother Miranda.

Unfortunately, such a thing is not possible right now. The Duke was delayed with his routine arrival at the castle opening, something about a spooked horse and lycans trying to get a nibble.

Honestly she lost interest after the word delayed was spoken through the phone. How is she going to remedy this. The gift itself was one of the finest silk she was able to obtain, she was sure Mother would appreciate a new ritual robe.

This is bad. To show up without a gift on this special day. She was sure she would be made a mockery during the gathering. Whats worst was that fool Heisenberg would be the first to lead with his pathetic insults.

Just the thought made Alcina's blood boil.

”I should send Bela to switch that man's shampoo with dog shampoo. Although the man still smells like wet dog. No. I'll think of something more devious.“

But back to the matter at hand. It's almost Mother's day and she doesn’t have a gift. Taking a deep drag off her cigarette, she considers her dwindling options.

At western part of the village

Donna is also facing a similar problems.

"What do you mean you're not coming?! Where am I supposed to find a present at this hour?!" Angie's raspy voice filtered through the phone "do you know how hard it is to find a 1st edition book on occult and rituals."

"Apologies Miss Angie, but the horse spooked and the carriage suffered a broken wheel. Even if the servants manage to haul themselves your house to the Duke's location and back it would still be too late." The main servant said trying to sound as apologetic as he can come across.

"This would not do" Donna said finally in her normal voice.

Somewhere inside the Stronghold.

Karl Heisenberg was having a meltdown.

"YOU STUPID LYCANS! I GAVE YOU ONE JOB AND YOU COULDN'T EVEN DO IT RIGHT!!" Heisenberg paces around the small assembly hall. Ten Lycans looked very apologetic, although it was very hard to tell from their looks. One even lets out a soft whimper.

“I told you to stall The Duke for a while. I didn’t said to derail him completely. The man has a package for me, now how am I supposed to get it!?” Heisenberg seethes.

His plan was a simply one really. Stall The Duke so that he would arrive at Castle Dimitrescu late, that way Alcina would not get her package and present it to Mother Miranda. That would show her, a little payback for calling him a child.

What he didn’t count on was the utter incapability of the Lycans to follow simple directions. Now even he doesn’t have a gift. Oh Miranda’s gonna blow a gasket.

“Augh... I hate the consequences of my actions” He lamented

At Moreau’s Reservoir

“NOOOOOOO!! That’s not fair, that’s not fair!!!” Moreau starts throwing his stuff on the floor. He had finally saved up his money to buy Mother Miranda that nice jewelry that would go perfectly with her black wings.

“Someone’s gonna pay” He vows to take revenge on the Lycans responsible for his problem.

After all his pet fish has been hungry for some Lycan meat.

Castle Dimitrescu (13 hours until Mother’s day)

“I have gathered you here today for a very important meeting” Alcina starts looking at the sad (Donna) and tearful (Moreau) faces of her so called ‘siblings’. Heisenberg is surprisingly calm which puts Alcina on high alert, but lets it slide in favour of the more pressing matter

“We have a big problem. The Duke will not arrive on time for Mother’s Day. That means all the presents we bought for Mother will not arrive”

“We need a solution, any ideas?”

“We kill the Lycans responsible and feed them to my fish”

“Yes Moreau, but that’s after we solve this problem” Donna said and tries to placate a Moreau by patting him at the back.

“Whoa, that’s a bit dark but I like it. And Moreau is right, we’re gonna make fish food out of those Lycans” “Better off those basdards, after all I don’t want to implicate myself” Heisenberg thinks

“People, you’re missing the point here” Alcina says pinching her nose to ward off an incoming headache. “Listen, we don’t have time. You know Mother Miranda, She’ll say she wasn’t really expecting something and then low-key punishes us for missing the day. We don’t want a repeat of the 1967 incident do we?”

Moreau whimpers from the trauma.

Donna goes into a slight trance and starts to shake.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough” Heisenberg stands. “Why don’t we just bake something and say it’s from all of us”

*beat*

“Do you know how to bake?”

“I work at the Factory, I make steel molds for a living how hard could it be?”

“That doesn’t answer my question Heisenberg”

“We could make a small doll” Donna pipes up

“Sorry Donna that would still take time. And I don’t think we have the right materials on such short notice.” Alcina says

“For someone who’s looking for a solution you sure are shooting down all of them”

“Because it’s not feasible Heisenberg.” Alcina huffs “Can you gather all the materials in less than 10 hours? No? Of course not”

“And I keep telling you just BAKE A CAKE!”

“I don’t know how to bake, child! I’m a BLOODY COUNTESS not hired help” Alcina bellows at Heisenberg

“I know how to bake”

Everyone turns to Donna.

“Really?”

“Of course, I used to watch my Mother bake cakes before the accident. I just need help decorating. I never got a hang of that part” Donna beams with pride as she explains the basics of baking

“And we can gather the ingredients no problem. You have a pantry here somewhere right Alcina?” Moreau asked

“Of course. We always have a full pantry for the servants.” At that Heisenberg looks at Alcina with a hint of disbelief

“What? We need them healthy to serve us. I’m not a complete monster.” Alcina defends

“In any case we should start early. It takes time to cool and decorating is hard”

Castle Kitchen (12 hours 30 minutes before Mother’s Day)

It was truly a sight to see. In a way it was enough for the Castle’s servants to wet themselves in fear when they saw the 4 Lords gathered at the kitchen in various forms of concentration. Needless to say, everyone was warned to steer clear of the kitchen for now.

Moreau was together with Donna supporting her with mixing the wet ingredients. Meanwhile, at the other side of the cooking station Alcina and Heisenberg are charge of measuring out the dry ingredients.

“You need to be precise, don’t put too much. Remember what Donna said and look at the damn recipe”

“I know what I’m doing you damn woman. I’m all about precision. Why don’t you move away and get that mixing bowl at the top shelf.” Heisenberg grouched

“I’m not your servant. And I certainly will not start fetching stuff for you” Alcina shot back

“Alcina, we need to work together. We don’t have time and you’re the tallest of us all. Please cooperate with Karl just this once. Please?” Donna implored

“Once. I’m helping him for this one time only. When I get my hands on the Lycan responsible for this problem, I’m gutting him and throwing him at Moreau’s reservoir.” At Donna’s admonishment of Alcina, Heisenberg gives a shit eating grin, showing some rather very pointy canines.

“And Heisenberg, stop provoking Alcina.” Donna adds

“Fine, you’re no fun Donna”

Suffice to say, the baking went well. Who knew that the 4 Lords working together would be a great success? If only Mother Miranda saw her children working together peacefully she might have had a heart attack and thought that she suffered one as well.

Or she might have been dreaming.

Castle Kitchen (6 hours before Mother’s Day)

“Alright, the cake has cooled down completely, So what color will be the icing?” Donna asked

“Yellow” “Cream” “Light Blue” the other three said simultaneously.

*beat*

“Light blue? Really? Not everything needs to be manly Heisenberg”

“And not everything needs to be boring like your color, Alcina”

“It should be yellow, like Mother’s sunny smile” Moreau explains

“And in which ever universe has Mother ever smiled like the sun?” Heisenberg counters Moreau

“Hey now. No need for that tone!”

“Tsk, sorry Moreau” Heisenberg apologizes to a quiet Moreau

“Fine, let’s do pastel yellow it’s easier for the eyes anyway” Donna supplies, getting ready to start coating the cake with the yellow cream

Inside the Sanctuary

“Happy Mother’s day”

“We hope you like the cake Mother”

“Yes, we poured out our love in baking it. I hope you appreciate it” Heisenberg said

“Why thank you loves. This is a wonderful surprise. And Moreau said that you all worked together in baking it. How wonderful!” Mother Miranda said grateful for once that her children worked together without collateral damage (that she knew of).

“Although Heisenberg, I heard something interesting from Urias” Mother Miranda looks pointedly at Heisenberg, who for some reason starts to sweat and turn pale.

‘oh shit’ “Really Mother? Good news I hope” Heisenberg tries to bluff his way out.

“Why it was quite peculiar really. He said that you got 10 of his Lycans for a special project. I wasn’t aware that you have some side projects”

The 3 Lords turn to Heisenberg

“Wait what?”

“I KNEW IT!!” Alcina unsheathes her claws

“You’re responsible for this mess in the first place!!”

“Really guy relax, if anything I just proved that we need more than one traveling merchant in the village for a successful and on time delivery” Heisenberg starts to carefully ease his way to the nearest exit.

“GET HIM”

In the end, Alcina was more than ready to feed Heisenberg to Moreau’s pet fish. Only Donna stopped her, citing Moreau would probably be inconsolable if his pet got indigestion from all the metal.

And that is how Heisenberg saw himself in doggy jail for a week along with his Lycan cohorts. Mother Miranda did get her Mother’s day gifts from her children although a bit later than expected.

And the cake?

The cake was surprisingly delicious.

#resident evil village #re8 village #alcina dimitrescu #donna beneviento #karl heisenberg #salvatore moreau #mother miranda #Late Mother's day fic #in which the 4 lords learn to cooperate for their own good #because no one wants to be in Mother Miranda's bad side

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broadstflyers · 3 years

Text

A/N: Welp, inspiration struck me, felt as though it quite literally hit me over the top of my head at like 1am, so I proceeded to write this at...1am. It was fun, honestly. It was meant to be a shorter blurb, but I guess it grew into a longer one. I have been experimenting with different writing styles to see which one fits me the best, so I gave the main character a name this time, Alessandra. Also, I was a slight idiot and on my first tag list, I made it specific to the other series I am writing. If you like this piece and the other Mat piece I wrote and you want to be tagged when I post any writing at all, the tag list is here. The semi lowercase thing I've got going on is purposeful. As always, feedback is appreciated, and if you like it, give it a like, reblog, or pop into my asks. Thanks! :)

Warnings: Cursing, angst, mentions of anxiety

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: When an ex comes back in a moment of weakness, you have to make a tough decision.

you say nothing as you approach the black haired boy sitting at a table in your english class. you sit down next to him. he looks up at you, and you lock eyes. no words are spoken, only a mutual understanding. one that only you two could define. you suddenly inch closer to him, continuing to lean in until your head is resting on his chest. you rest your arm next to your head, and he wraps an arm around you.

home. warm. it was.

you could feel his heart beating out of his chest. your heart fluttered with joy. it was instant. it was marvelous. it was beautiful.

“I love you, Alessandra.”

you lurch forward out of your bed, heart beating so fast you are shaking. you pant heavily, tears stream your face, startled. your eyes dart around your room to ground yourself through watery eyes. you hold up your trembling hands, something that has refused to stop since he walked out of your front door for the last time two months ago.

“please don’t visit,” you choke out. you find the strength to turn around and grab your pillow. your chest pounds with pain, every movement is agonizing. you squeeze your soft pillow against your chest to try and alleviate the self-sustained blow. you pretended the pillow could somehow suck the heavy feelings out of you, the way he used to use his hands of healing magic, the way he used to place them with gentle care on your chest to somehow suck the anxiousness out of you onto himself.

you mindlessly rock back and forth, waiting for the waves of mind numbing pain to recede back into the endless deep abyss of despair.

“please don’t visit,” you repeat in a weak voice. not that he could hear your begging, anyways.

he didn’t hear your pleas to love you how you loved him- with every bone in your body. he held a knife in his calloused hands and carved his initials into your soul. every inch of your soul belonged to him, and you let it.

how can you break a bond that felt as though the angels themselves used their delicate touch to hand-tie the gold string you once believed held you two together?

maybe that explains why this feels like hell.

you flinch as you hear a sharp knock at the front door. you should probably get that, but you instead settle back into your hazy gaze out into your room.

a second knock rings throughout the apartment, faster, with a sense of urgency.

“please don’t visit,” you croak.

“Alessandra,” a voice croaks back. “open up.”

your blood freezes cold, eyes grow wide in panic. fire spreads through your veins. hot and cold sensations rip you apart limb from limb. your voice feels broken. no sounds come out when you open your mouth.

I guess I should move.

so you do. you stand up a little too quickly, and your vision goes black. you place your palms down on the bed and wait for your vision to return. you tip toe over to the door and place your palm on your chilling door. goosebumps erupt on your skin.

“it’s Mat,” his once soothing voice whispers through the door.

“Mat,” you quietly repeat back.

“yes, it’s me,” he says with a sigh of relief that you answered him.

his voice of familiarity is catching you in a stint of anxiety where you just want something- anything that’s familiar. you know this. when you used to gaze into his kind, brown eyes, you would see the boy you met in eighth grade, not the man that walked out that door just two months ago.

you went to move the locks, and you unlocked both of them, until you pulled back with hesitancy. “I can’t, Mat, I can’t,” you breathe out, “I can’t see you. please,” you plead, “hear me. I, I can’t. you didn’t hear me all those months I pleaded with you. hear me now.”

you can hear him place his head on the door with a soft thump.

“I still love you, Alessandra,” he mumbles.

and that was it. you just about exploded. the emotions you had kept at bay were unleashed. you began to sob and you sank to the ground until you could hug your knees. you still faced the door. you knew he shouldn’t walk in, but you almost wanted him to. you wanted him to put an end to this, but was it a good idea?

no, it wasn’t. and you knew that.

you began to take deep breaths to calm yourself down. “it’s unlocked,” you hear yourself say in the distance. you didn’t immediately regret those words like you thought you would. you had scooted yourself away from the door so you wouldn’t get hit.

he slowly opened the creaky door, and glances down to see you blankly staring at your knees. what else could you do? it was awkward enough.

he doesn’t say anything. the apartment is dead.

he carefully sits down across from you, far enough where he isn’t in your face, but close enough that you could extend your legs and they would touch him.

you both sit in silence for a moment, trying to adjust to being in each other’s presence again. his presence felt so natural, yet so nerving. you weren’t used to feeling so on edge around him. so hurt.

“time,” you sniff and break the unbearable silence. “I need time,” you reaffirm.

he nods slowly. “I understand,” he whispers. “I know I hurt you. I know I fucked up. I fucked up badly.”

you don’t move a muscle from staring at the seam on your sweatpants. you take a shaky breath. it’s now or never.

“Mat, do you know how painful it is to have to practically beg someone to not treat you like shit one day and then to decide the next day I’m the fucking greatest human being on this planet?” you start to find your voice again.

“I had to beg my boyfriend to treat me with respect. the person I gave my soul to. do you know how much that fucking killed me?” your voice was seething with anger as you remembered the end of your relationship. feelings of betrayal and hurt overtook you.

you push yourself off the floor. he follows you.

“you don’t love me,” you assert. “you ‘love’ me because of when you met me. I’m just familiar to you.”

he makes a taken aback face, his eyebrows furrow. “hey, I know what I feel okay? and yeah, I was a fucking asshole. I realize that now. I shouldn’t have acted out on you like I did. I shouldn’t have made you beg for basic human respect. I’m sorry.”

you look into his eyes again. those brown innocent eyes were once filled with sparkling joy. you see 13 year old you dancing around with his favorite flower in your hair. you see hundreds of dates, each one more special than the last.

you see innocent you. it’s just familiarity. you know it is. you’re too hurt, mind too foggy to really sort through your feelings to figure out if you love the mat standing in front of you.

“I’m going to need time, Mat. I am still feeling too much hurt to decide how I feel.”

he swallows hard, but eventually nods. “okay.”

with a heavy heart, you walk him to the door. before he can walk out, he stops, turns around, and looks down at you one last time. you gaze up into those endless eyes of his, heart shattering because you know you have to send him on his way. it’s for your own good.

he opens his mouth to speak and you gently shake your head. he closes his mouth, and you offer him a nod as in, it’s time to go. you can see his body exhale. he steps through the door frame, this time you sending him through there yourself. you don’t wait to see if he will turn around. you don’t want to see if he turns around. you want to close that door knowing you are the one who sent him away, and that was all you wanted to remember in the future. and so you do.

you lock the locks with every ounce of you left, pressing your fingers down to make sure the door was actually locked. you just wanted to keep everything out. every weird feeling, any remote desire to go back to him.

you paused to touch the door one last time, letting a single tear flow down your cheek before turning to crawl back into bed and sulk for the rest of the day.

you knew deep down that was the last time you would ever see the face of your teenage love.

he won’t be visiting anymore.

------------

again, here's the link to the tag list, and my asks are open if you want to talk about this piece! I hope you...well...enjoyed it, I guess? lmao

#mat barzal #mat barzal angst #mat barzal fic #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader

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domesticblisss · 3 years

Text

Mine

Jay White x Female Reader Requested Prompts: "hi can you write a jealous!jay x reader, maybe with a little fluff, angst and jealousy" and "Can you write something with jay, maybe like jealous! jay white x reader, probably hirsohi try’s to bring you up during a segment and says things about you and jay gets mad and jealous? anything is fine" Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 1005 Warnings: Suggestive. Some name calling and angry rat bastard. Summary: David Finlay uses a low blow to get Jay's attention. A/N: First time filling a request! Hope you guys enjoy it. Also, used Finlay instead of Tana because Tana seems too nice to be an asshole.

Jay always kept his personal life private. Especially his relationship. It wasn’t one those “I’m ashamed of her” cases or him wanting to get laid with whoever showed up. No, he just needed something to help, someone that understood him and turned his mind off of all the things he lived daily.

And as of right now, Finlay is ruining it.

Pictures of Jay and her having coffee together, walking around the park, them kissing and even one of her at the beach, one which she posted on her private instagram, were displayed on the screens for everyone to see.

Jay was seething, mind going miles per minute trying to hold on and calm himself. “Breath in, Switchblade. Breath in.” he kept repeating to himself.

All the calmness he had mustered went to shit when he heard a few not so kind words come out of David’s mouth.

“She’s hot, man. I bet she fucks so good. She looks like she’s a little freak too. I mean, they have to be if they are dating you.”

Next thing he sees is David on the floor outside of the ring, laughing and cleaning his bloody nose.

Kenta, Tama and Fale are holding him back while Gedo tries to reason with him.

His way back to the backstage isn’t an easy one, and everyone that crossed his path was subjected to his rage. Young Lions trying to give him a bottle of water, production crew trying to direct him to where he needs to record a promo, anyone that positioned themselves in front of him were either pushed aside or yelled at.

“I don’t need a fucking chair!” he screamed to one poor lady as he positioned himself in front of one of the cameras. “David, David, David… week after week you come here and try to catch my attention to your pathetic presence. Well, you got it now. Just know you did it the wrong way and I hope you get ready because I’m tearing you apart, limb by limb.”

He took longer than usual to get back to the hotel. Knowing she was there waiting for him, he made sure to calm himself down before going back to her. He didn’t want her to see him like this, she couldn’t see him like this. A broken dressing room and two hours of pep talk with Gedo later, he finally made his way into the penthouse suit he was renting.

She sat on the bed, white silk camisole on, hair down and unruly, she had one elbow propped on her thigh and a hand holding her cheek, looking bored out of her mind with whatever show was on. She looked like an angel.

It wasn’t long before she noticed Jay had arrived, a smile forming instantly on her pretty face.

“Hi, baby.”

“Hey, baby.” he answered back, walking towards her and kissing her forehead.

“I saw what happened. With David, I mean.”

“I was afraid you would have had. Can we talk about it in the morning?” he stopped for a moment to take his shirt off and change to the sweatpants he usually slept on. “Right now I just want to lay in this bed and sleep with the most beautiful woman in my arms.”

“Yes, sir!” she answered back excitedly, crawling up to her pillow and positioning herself comfortably in his arms.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

She woke up before him, untangled herself from the arms that held her all night long, thanking the gods that Jay was such a heavy sleeper that he didn’t even stir.

Calling the front desk, she asked for room service and made sure to order Jay’s favourites. Breakfast arrived not even thirty minutes later.

She was as gentle as she could to wake him up, making sure she didn’t scare him.

“Baby, c’mon, wake up.”

“What? Did anything happen?”

“Room service happened. C’mon, it’s 8am already. Let’s eat breakfast and then you can take the day off.”

She gave him a few minutes to properly wake up and get his mind working.

“We need to talk about yesterday, Jay.”

“I know… I don’t want to.” he finished with a dry laugh.

“Look, baby. I can only imagine how it sucks, but I can see how much this has affected you, Jay. You arrived here hours later than usual, your hands are bruised, I know you probably thrashed your dressing room and that Gedo has probably talked to you already, but it is still nagging you. Spill it.”

He sighed, running his hands over his face and hair, making it even messier.

“No matter what I say I’m going to sound like a creep that wants to keep you out of everyone’s reach, and it’s not that, you know it’s not that. You… what we have, I have never had that before. You see me for who I am, you know that I am more than that guy in the ring.”

“Then why do you worry?”

“Because in past relationships these guys screwed me over and I can’t lose you. Also, did you hear the way Finlay was talking about you?”

She laughed at the high pitched tone his voice got by the end of the sentence. “Honey, first of all: you know nothing those guys ever say is going to change how I feel about you, right?” Jay stayed silent. “Right?”

“Mhm.”

“Good. Second of all: David wasn’t lying.”

“Yeah he wasn’t but it doesn’t give him the right to talk or even think about you.”

Once again she laughs at his behaviour. “Is that jealousy, Jay?”

“Maybe it is.”

“Remember that you’re the only one that gets the freak, babe.”

He laughed what felt like a genuine laugh for the first time in a while. Scooting closer, he hugged and kissed her. “I love you, you know that?” he murmured in her hair.

“I know and I love you too.”

“You said something about a day off.”

“Mhm.”

“All day in bed?”

“As you wish, sir.”

#wrestling imagine #njpw imagine #jay white #jay white x reader #jay white imagine #db writes

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jobean12-blog · 4 years

Text

Pitching a Tent

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,568

Summary: You and the team go on a camping trip together and you get stuck sharing a tent with Bucky.

Author’s Note: This is for @aesthetical-bucky 1k challenge and the continuation of the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club drunk drabbles and the super fun prompt sent in below. For the challenge I had the prompt- enemies to friends/lovers: camping trip and you’re forced to share a tent with (Bucky) and then the smutty prompt- “are you wearing underwear?” Congratulations my beautiful love! Thank you all for reading and much love always! ❤❤❤

Warning: Fun teasing, flirting, fluffy fun, implied sexy times ;)

The tent pole pops out of the fabric and nearly takes your eye out. Letting go a string of curses you flail around in a huff. “Having some trouble, doll?” Bucky taunts, standing over you with a smirk. With a frustrated groan you stand, poking him in the chest. “Are you offering to help or just enjoying my suffering.” He picks up one of the poles and bops you on the head, “nope, definitely not gonna help,” and walks off with a laugh.

You grit your teeth, ready to stab him with the pointy end but Clint’s boots block your way. “Hey kid, need some help.” Looking up you frown, but it quickly turns into a smile when he gives you his own goofy grin. “That would be great thanks! Bucky basically came over here to make fun of me then left.”

Clint’s grin only grew, his eyes twinkling with something you can’t quite place. “What?” you ask, watching as he starts picking up the pieces of the tent. “Nothing. You two are oblivious is all. Hand me that pole, please.” You hand it over with a raised brow, blowing out a raspberry before saying, “if by oblivious you mean he’s an asshole then yea.”

With a shake of his head Clint continues building the tent, doing it far more quickly and efficiently than you ever could. “Wow,” you say, standing back and looking over the perfectly balanced tent. “Thanks, Clint! At least someone was nice enough to help me!” You shout the last words in Bucky’s direction, his head swinging your way. “Well it’s a good thing. You would have never been able to do it yourself.”

Clint can no longer contain his laughter as it rings out over the campground. “Oh man, so funny,” he mutters as he walks away. You narrow your eyes at Bucky, sticking out your tongue. He waggles his eyebrows suggestively and does the same back, your face scrunching up in shock. “UGH!” you say, not noticing when Steve leans over in Clint’s ear, whispering something that makes them both grin deviously.

The rest of the day goes by peacefully and you enjoy the beautiful sights and sounds of the woods. You manage to avoid Bucky for most of it. After dinner you head down to the lake to cool off with a swim. Ridding yourself of your clothes you walk into the refreshing water wearing only your underwear and bra, sighing at how good it feels.

You’re so caught up in the relaxation of your surroundings that you don’t hear Bucky quietly enter the water. It isn’t until he has his hands at your sides, tickling you and effectively scaring the life out of you that you know anyone is there. You scream loud enough to draw over Nat and Clint, the two of them going from terrified to annoyed. “I’m gonna drown the both of you if you don’t cut this shit out!” Nat yells over the water then stomps off, Clint hot on her heels.

“Nat’s not gonna be able to drown you because I’m gonna do it first,” you shout, trying your best to push Bucky under the water. It’s no use of course as he laughs and easily holds you back. “Nice try doll, but you might want to work on your take down a bit.” With that he dunks you one more time and strides out of the lake. You seethe, watching as the water drips down over his neck and chest. You don’t know if you’re angrier at the fact that he managed to scare you or that you’re staring because he looks so damn delicious.

Darkness finally descends on the campground and you and the rest of the team are huddled around the campfire, roasting marshmallows while Tony complains. “You should have let me buy a camper. Then we could have done this and gone to bed in style.” Steve throws a marshmallow at his head, tsking as he says, “that defeats the purpose Tony!” You laugh while trying to unstick your fingers from the marshmallow on your smore, finally deciding to just lick it off. You feel someone staring and look up to see Bucky’s eyes on you. His jaw is clenched, and he looks almost angry, so you just chalk it up to him being his usual jerky self. Throwing him a smirk you lick your lips.

It’s after midnight when everyone finally shuffles off to their tents. Nat and Clint, Tony and Pepper, Steve and Sam and then you and Bucky are left glaring at each other. “Oh, hell no, Barnes, you can sleep outside,” you say, going into the only empty tent left and starting to zip it closed. He barges through, “no way y/n. Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

You look down at the sleeping bag and although it’s giant there is only one. “Then you have to sleep outside the sleeping bag!” You stomp your foot with authority, and he laughs. “We’ll see about that.” Huffing and puffing you get yourself ready for bed, all the while very aware of Bucky’s closeness.

Once you’re under the cover and comfortable you sneak a glance his way just as he’s taking off his shirt. He starts to take off his pants and you screech, “what are you doing Barnes?” Giving you a cocky smile, he replies, “what does it look like, baby, getting ready for bed.” His pants are off in a second and he’s now standing in his boxer briefs.

You swallow hard and try to look away but can’t seem to bring yourself to. He lays down next to you, above the covers as promised and grabs his book. “Sleep tight, doll.” You mumble goodnight and turn over with a sigh. You’re not sure how much time passes before you start shivering but you can’t seem to stop.

“Are you cold, y/n?” You were hoping he was asleep already. “No, I’m fine,” you lie, curling into yourself. The next thing you know he’s getting into the sleeping bag and pulling you into his chest. At first you protest, pushing away from him with a grunt. “No thanks, Buck.” He doesn’t listen, tightening his hold on you and whispering into your neck, “don’t fight me, doll. You can’t freeze all night. Your feet are like ice.”

Giving in you go limp in his arms, finding it hard to fall asleep now that his warm body is so close to yours. You wiggle around to get comfortable and you hear his breath hitch, the low rumble of a growl vibrating through his chest. Ignoring him you cuddle closer, the feel of his hardness against your ass making you stifle a moan. You finally relax, the comfort of his strong body lulling you into a peaceful sleep.

When you wake up the next morning, Bucky’s arms are still curled around you and your legs are tangled together. “Morning baby,” he murmurs, stretching his arms. You do the same, your oversized shirt riding up above your bum. Bucky immediately stills, his thigh brushing against your bare skin. “Are you wearing underwear?”

His question is barely audible over your heavy breathing, the air thick with tension as he runs his metal arm up your thigh. “Um. They were still wet last night after my swim in the lake, so I didn’t wear any to bed.” He rolls you over, caging you under him and between his arms. “Are you telling me you’ve been without underwear this whole time?”

You shake your head yes, unable to speak now that his thigh is nudging between your legs. “Fuck,” he growls before leaning down to kiss you. The very moment your lips brush to his you hear the zipper of your tent. Bucky jumps off you and throws the cover over your bodies. “Morning you two!” You hear Sam’s chipper voice before you see him poke his head into the tent. “Hurry and get up, Tony’s hungry and is already starting to yell about taking everyone out to eat. We have to get breakfast ready and we need all hands-on deck.”

He smiles, waiting for your reply. “Yea, yea, we’re coming Sam, get out!” Bucky throws a sock at his face which works better than expected as Sam wrinkles his nose in disgust and quickly leaves. “Fucking hell, he has the worst timing.” You giggle then blurt out, “but I thought you couldn’t stand me.” Bucky quickly moves back to you, taking you into his arms.

“Quite the opposite doll. I really like you a lot. It’s just easier for me to be a pain in your ass than actually tell you. I didn’t think you could ever feel the same way.” You straddle his waist, winding your arms around his neck. “Well, you’re wrong. I do like you. A lot.” His thumb brushes against your cheek and he leans in for another kiss only to be interrupted once again by Sam yelling outside your tent.

“Don’t make me come in there again! Hurry your asses up.” Bucky rests his forehead to yours and sighs, “I guess we have to go help with breakfast.” You tuck some hair behind his ear. “Yea, I guess,” you reply with a light laugh, then perk up, asking, “hey, so what are you doing later?” His grip on your waist tightens and he gives you a heated look. “You.”

@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @azurika-writes @book-dragon-13 @buckys-broody-muffin @bugsbucky @emilylyoness @eurynome827 @imgaril-lindru @ikaris-whore @itsunclebucky @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @kaosera @loricameback @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @mushyjellybeans @marvelgirl7 @marvelandotherfandomimagines @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @scarletsoldierrr @sallycanwait68 @the-wayward-robot @softpeachbarnes @yansi1923 @hiddles-rose @hawksmagnolia @hailmary-yramliah

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wannabemobwife · 3 years

Text

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Revenge Never Felt So Good

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield

-Warnings: Guns, bombing, language, murder, blood, hints to smut (none actual smut), typos, shitty writing, torture I guess

-Words: 4.9K

A/n: Can we get back to mob stuff? Please. I want to apologize for this chapter, it is absolute shit and I could tell by writing it. Kind of a filler chapter. Sorry it is long.

Chapter 13: Revenge Never Felt So Good

Words: 4.9K

It had been a week, since you got your memories back and you declared your love for Tom once more. Right after that, you and Tom were on the first train to Paris, refusing to fly for awhile.

You and Tom returned last night, just in time to see Parker and Rosie off to school the next morning. While you and Tom had been enjoying a second honeymoon in the city of love, Nikki and Dom so graciously offered to watch the kids. Everything was falling back into full swing. Parker and Rosie were going to school regularly. Rosie spending all her time with Henry and Parker still living his secret double life.

Things going back to normal. Somewhat.

It was a typical morning, but anytime everyone every thinks that, something gets massively screwed up. You woke up early to make pancakes and bacon.

“So what is plan for everyone today?” You asked, sipping at your steaming cup of coffee.

“Well, Rosie and I have school,” Parker explained.

“I have plans with Henry,” Rosie chimed in.

“I have meetings all day, love.” Tom said, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“Ok, so I’m all alone today,” you muttered, a little disappointed.

“I’m sorry darling, you could join me. You know much I love it when you sit in my lap during meetings. Really show them who’s boss,” Tom said, wrapping you in his embrace.

“No, it’s ok. I have some errands to run anyway.”

“Alright, angel. I love you. I’ll see you for dinner.”

“I love you too. Come on, kids. In the car we go.” You said, pushing everyone out the door.

“Why is Jared not driving?” Parker asked.

“Cause, I have errands to run and besides he’s driving your dad today.”

“Now let’s go.” You said as Parker and Rosie hopped into the car.

Tom was having a hard time returning to his mob personality. Some business was conducted in Paris, you tagged along and enjoyed every minute of it. Tom sometimes overcompensated for not being as dangerous and intimidating. He had grown soft taking care of you after the helicopter crash. Helping you get your memory took most of his time, he had to step away from the mob for awhile. But you were his top priority.

Tom couldn’t remember the last time he sat in his office doing business. He missed it. He missed the thrill of torturing someone, having them beg for their life in front of him. He missed the feeling of firing his gun.

“Tom, you’re late,” Haz said as Tom got out of the car.

“Sorry not sorry Haz, I enjoyed breakfast with Y/N and the kids this morning,” Tom responded.

“I have to tell you something.”

“What? It’s never good news if it’s right when I get here.”

“We’re down two more.” Harrison mumbled referring to then decreasing number of soldiers part of the Holland Empire.

“Are you fucking serious? Haz, I’m so fucking tired of this bullshit. My men are getting fucking killed. Everything has gone to shit,” Tom screamed, enraged.

“Tom, we’ll figure it out. Just need to keep your cool.” Haz said, trying to avoid Tom’s wrath.

“Easier said than done. Alright, who’s here,” Tom asked, trying to forget about everything else.

“William.” Haz said with a straight face.

“What? Why? He’s always been loyal,” Tom questioned. One of his most valuable men, working against him, the rat?

“I got word from the soldiers he has been taking bribes from Parker,” Harrison explained.

“What the fuck for? Well, I guess we’ll find out.” Tom said, walking into the main room of the warehouse.

“William, I’d never thought it would be you in this chair.” Tom said, walking up to one of his most trusted employees.

“Tom, you gotta believe me. I didn’t do anything. I’m not the rat,” William pleaded. He knew what had been happening to the mob.

“Did you or did you not take money from Parker?” Tom asked.

“Yes, he just wanted to get out of the manor at night. So, he paid me to turn a blind eye.”

“Where was he going?”

“I don’t know, I assumed to some girl’s house.” “William, I trust you. So I’m going to let you off with a warning, but you can’t let him sneak out anymore. I’m afraid we are being targeted. If he tries to leave, you have to tell me.”

“Yes, boss. I’m sorry.” William apologized.

“It’s ok, but you understand what needs to happen right? I can’t be looking like I’ve gone soft,” Tom asserted.

“Yeah, I can take it. It’s ok,” William said, gritting his teeth as he waited for the collision of Tom’s fist to his cheek. Tom winded up to deliver one swift punch to William’s left eye. Not breaking the skin but creating a dark purple blotch.

All of Tom’s frustrations have been channeled into his mob duties. Each punch riddled with anger and frustration. A release of catharsis combined with blood. Tom wears the smell of blood and death like a perfume.

The rest of the day was full of uneventful meetings. Meetings with business associates, actual business associates for the company.

When Tom came home, he planned to confront Parker about his whereabouts if he tried to sneak out again. Everyone retired, you went to sleep first and Rosie went to her room. Parker said, he was going to bed but Tom could see right through him.

Tom was sitting in the den, sipping a glass of watered down whiskey. Waiting for his son to disobey him. At 11:55 PM, Parker made his way downstairs ever so slightly. Only to be met with the dagger eyes of Tom.

“Where the fuck do you think you are going?” Tom asked as Parker tried to sneakily leave.

“I… I thought I heard noise outside and I’m going to go check on it,” Parker stammered. Getting caught by Tom was not part of the plan.

“Oh, ok. Parker the guards can do that. Go back to bed.” Tom said, turning back to the TV in the den, broadcasting Raiders of the Lost Ark.

“Ok. Night, dad,” Parker said, trudging himself back up the steps.

“Night…. I know, you’re lying,” Tom whispered loud enough for Parker to hear.

“What? I’m not lying.”

“Parker, I know you’ve sneaking out for weeks and bribing William.”

“Dad, I’m sorry,” Parker immediately started apologizing, no bother in trying to lie himself out of this one.

“Why have you been sneaking out?” Tom questioned, seething with anger but refusing to show it. Trying to have a mature adult conversation.

“I’ve been going to a girl’s house, her name is Jamie.”

“Oh, glad you find someone. You know after everything with Charlotte,” Tom replied.

“Well since I told you the truth, can I go? We made the plan a couple days ago and don’t want to cancel,” Parker lied.

“Alright, just be back before sunrise or your mother will have may head,” Tom informed him.

“Thanks dad, you should get some sleep,” Parker said, making his way out of the heavily guarded house.

Parker left as quickly as possible. He knew Wilson would be pissed for him being late. The talk with Tom was not how this was supposed to happen.

He couldn’t betray his family and himself anymore.

Parker hoped this was the last time he would have to talk to him. He planned to quit, after the conversation with Dom. Parker had become everything he hated, someone who kills for sport.

“Wilson, this is the last thing I’m doing then, I’m out,” Parker said, walking towards Wilson.

“We’ll talk about it later, my boy,” Wilson said, patting Parker’s shoulder.

“Alright who am I killing? You never gave me a target.” Parker shouted at Wilson walking.

“Oh, this isn’t a hit, it’s a robbery. Here’s your new firearm,” One of Wilson’s men explained, tossing a MP5K at him.

“You okay kid? You know if you’re too much of pussy the boss might understand,” jeered one of the men as Parker gulped at the size of the weapon.

“Fuck you, I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with,” Parker barked, trying to put his mind aside. He has never done anything like this. It wasn’t just one person he was killing, it was the possibility of having many causalities. Altering his persona from a hitman to a mass murderer.

A million thoughts flooded Parker’s mind. He wouldn’t be killing people who deserved it like before, contract killers or drug dealers, these were innocent people. Stupid people for gambling all their hard earned money away but nonetheless innocent.

Parker’s heart nearly stopped when he saw where the van pulled up to. A place he knew all too well, it was one of Tom’s casinos.

The company that Dom had built, but all the Holland boys sent thriving in the new century, was more than it seemed. Holland Exportation and Luxuries was much more than exporting goods.

It was casinos that ran all along the French Riviera, more specifically Monaco. It was hotels across the entire globe. It was a business but not the family one. More of a front for the mob but it paid the bills. Harry and Sam had been in charge of running and establishing the hotels and casinos across Europe.

“Y’know your way around, right? That’s why the boss put you on this.” One of men asked Parker as he fiddled with his new machine gun.

“I guess so.” Parker replied.

“Here’s a map. Where are the guards? Which posts?” Asked a soldier, pointing to the main entrance hallways, where security was sure to be.

“I don’t know.”

“So we’re going in there fucking blind? Fuck, thought you’d be good for something. Just stay out of our way,” yelled one of the capos.

“No. I’m taking point. If you have a problem, you can fucking talk to me about it along with my Glock,” Parker threatened.

“Alright. Don’t screw this up. The boss wants big bucks from this. Says “it’s step two in the fall of the empire.” Whatever the fuck that means.”

“On my count, 1, 2… 3,” Parker screamed.

They came storming in, barricading all the entrances and exits. Parker and Wilson’s men clad in all black and payday masks. All various colors and designs. They looked as they were trick or treating.

This was the last thing Parker wanted to be doing. He came today to quit and now he was robbing a casino.

Parker kept repeating a mantra in his head “Last one, then I’m done” as held his gun high. Pointing it directly at innocents, he could see them shaking in fear.

“EVERYONE ON THE GROUND NOW!” He shouted, aiming his machine gun high.

“Don’t you fucking touch that button. I know what it fucking does.” Parker barks at the person behind the token counter. “Open the vault.” Parker said, pointing the gun at him.

“Why should I?” remarked the worker.

“Cause I fucking said so and I’m threatening your life,” Parker explained

“Enough of this shit!” He screamed, firing a few rounds close to the worker but not hitting him.

“You don’t have to do this. You could walk out of here, all of you. And we could go on with our lives. No need for money or the cops.”

“I think we both know that’s not gonna happen. I’ll ask nicely, please open the vault,” Parker mocked. “Boss said “start killing hostages in 10 minutes.” One of the other men whispered in Parker’s ear.

“Did you fucking hear that? We’re gonna fucking kill you if you don’t cooperate. So I suggest you open… the fucking… vault.”

“Sir, we can’t.”

“See this gun. LOOK AT IT! It has the power to put a bullet through your skull. Open the fucking vault. I won’t ask a fifth time.”

“That’s it. Now, type in the code.” Parker directed towards them.

The vault door creaked open, revealing trappings of pure wealth. Money stacked on tables, almost reaching the ceiling. And gold bars, glistened as the light reflected off of them.

“Now was that so fucking hard. Take all of it. Everything, even the gold.” Parker said, directly towards his men.

“Thank you, you’ve served you purpose,” Parker said to the worker, shooting him dead not even 3 seconds later. The screams of the other hostages echoed through the vacated room.

“Now to everyone here, there’s already one dead. I don’t mind making it more,” Parker barked.

“What’s your name?” Parker asked the nice looking girl kneeling on the ground.

“It’s not nice to not answer when someone asks you question, especially someone with a 9 caliber MP5K in your face. I ask again. What’s your name?” Parker spoke.

“Jane,” she whispered, shaking with fear.

“Well Jane, I want to thank you for your cooperation. You are in charge of talking to the cops, ok? And let your boss know, that Wilson is always watching,” Parker said, as he turned to leave.

“I will but you won’t get as far as you hoped,” Jane asserted, trying not to irritate Parker.

“And why’s that?”

“I know you. I remember you. You’d come in here with your dad.”

“You don’t know fucking shit!” Parker screamed.

“I know your name and that puts me at a high position of power,” Jane expressed, growing less afraid by the second. Realizing he is just some scared boy. Maybe not afraid of his own shadow but broken down by the fear of the world.

“I’m the one pressing fucking gun to your head. I HAVE ALL THE POWER!” Parker vociferated loud enough to shake the chandelier hanging above.

“You wish. Men like you always wish.”

“Seems like you’re doing some wishing yourself sweetheart. Wishing to be escorted out of here in a body bag. Now shut your fucking trap.”

“Hey. Let’s go. Leave her.” One of the Wilson’s men said, pulling Parker towards the exit.

“He still loves you and he’ll forgive you for this,” Jane shouted as Parker left.

Refusing to turn back, he had taken enough lives from this ill attempt at revenge. Parker didn’t know who he was fighting against anymore. Who was the hero and who was the villain?

All the wrongdoings as vast as the sea. All his attempts to make someone pay were misconstrued. Who actually deserved it?

The words of the woman replayed in Parker’s head. She was like a broken record, forcing him to listen to a truth he hoped to forget. How could Tom forgive him? Parker knew what he done was unforgivable. It was a mistake, all of it.

Parker marched into Wilson’s office and said, “Ever since I started working for you, my family has been in danger. I thought my dad was the reason for my girlfriends death, but I was wrong. I guess I’ll never know. Here Wilson, my gun. I quit.”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I own you. I could end you, boy. Just like I almost did your parents,” Wilson barked.

“What?” Parker questioned, a look of confusion are on his face.

“Oh, please. You really think it was just a malfunction,” Wilson scoffed.

“What are you talking about?” Parker asked.

“Their helicopter. Pretty brilliant work, if I do say so myself,” Wilson gloated.

“They almost died.”

“Yeah and so? Your dad is my enemy. That is the whole reason you came to me in the first place.”

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt them,” Parker screamed. “Promises are meant to be broken. They don’t call me the Merchant of Death for nothing.”

Wilson was ready for the fight and been the one pulling the strings the entire time. Tom warranted no quarrel. Never being the instigator in a fight with Wilson.

They had been divided for years to come, focusing on their separate mobs. Only acknowledging each other if they accidentally crossed paths. There was Wilson’s mob, then a few others scattered round London such as Graham’s which was almost non-existent and Shaw’s which was mostly the drug scene. But Wilson was Tom’s biggest competitor. Being a part of then game for years before didn’t matter, Tom eclipsed Wilson just like the sun does the moon.

Or the moon to the sun, that was exactly Wilson’s play from the start. Taking out the pillars of Tom’s life. First a reason to have his son turn on him, the death of a loved one. Next, removing you from Tom’s grasp. Eventually a play had to be made on Rosie. Leaving Tom utterly alone.

Only thoughts that would cross his mind be suicidal ones, having lost everything he ever cared about. It was a long play, one Wilson vowed to see through. Wilson saw all his work as justice and merciful. Almost biblical, they way everything was playing out.

“It was you. All along. The fucking puppet master,” Parker mumbled under his breath.

“If you are talking about your little girlfriend, that was strictly business, nothing personal. But yes, I have been the one behind the scenes driving your father mad. Remember the note?” Wilson exclaimed.

“She didn’t deserve to die,” Parker shouted.

“What? Are you really upset? That was ages ago. Plus, I had to get you on my side somehow,” Wilson teased.

“Wait, you knew I’d come here?”

“Parker, how stupid are you? When will you grow up and learn this rivalry is just the beginning of a war. What side are you going to be on? You have a choice. I’ve warmed to you and I want you on my side as I take your daddy down.”

“That’s your first fucking mistake don’t have any weaknesses,” Parker admitted, taking a lesson from Tom. He drew is gun, point blank at Wilson.

“Parker, what are you doing? Put the gun down,” Wilson pleaded for his life.

“No, you made me into a cold blooded killer. Not my dad. I quit.”

BANG

After a loud thud sounded, the room was silent. Only a faint smell of smoke from the gun was there as Parker fled as quickly as possible.

Parker made his way home that night a changed man. All his kills in the pass were strictly business. Never driven by emotion but this one was personal.

It wasn’t a job or a hit. He was no longer a contract killer. Killing for the sake of money or an obligation. He was cold blooded killer.

In some twisted way, Parker enjoyed Wilson and his company. Looking up to him. He was then one who saved him from the horrible life he thought he was leaving behind. The one full of deceit and betrayal. The one with Tom, you and Rosie.

The one that led him to be next leader of the Holland mob. The one that resulted in the death of his beloved girlfriend. The one that had almost taken you and Tom away from him. The one that almost took his life. The one that forced him to kill for sport.

But no, he was wrong Parker brought that on himself. Parker’s naivety was his greatest enemy. He was just a child not too long ago. Once afraid of his own shadow, then afraid of failing at life and school, especially the SATs. Now, he was an adult burdened by problems a 16 year old should ever face. He could sit there and blame Tom, but it would do him no good when all he had to do was look in the mirror.

Parker was his own worst enemy. Searching for justice, when none could be found in a world wear mobsters roamed. Causing shootouts, robbing banks, and killing innocent people. People deserved to be avenged and Parker sure as hell wasn’t doing anything to aide.

Parker drove home, took four showers and threw his clothes away. Anything to wash off this abhorrent day. The next morning, Parker went on like nothing had changed. As if he didn’t shoot his boss and Tom’s rival in cold blood. As if didn’t only see himself as a cold blooded killer. Everything that he is and everything he owns soiled with the scent of murder.

He played it as though it was any other morning. Eating his pancakes and bacon before starting the day. Telling you about his plans for the day. Trying to keep his cool. The lovely morning breakfast conversation was interrupted once Tom’s phone rang.

RING, RING, RING

“Haz, why are you calling me? I’m having breakfast with my family,” Tom asked, annoyed his precious breakfast was interrupted. “Charlie is here, you need to get here. I have to tell you something,” Haz informed Tom. “Ok, I’m on my way,” Tom said, brushing off the request. Why would the

company’s electrical engineer for aeronautical transportation be there?

“Love, I’m so sorry but I’m needed at the warehouse. Thank you for this wonderful breakfast, wish I could enjoy it. Bye, kids. Have a good day at school,” Tom said, making his way out the door. Bidding you all goodbye.

“Haz, what’s was so urgent that I couldn’t finish my breakfast.” Tom barked, annoyed he was pulled away from you and the kids even on a Saturday.

“We were robbed last night. The casino.” Haz explained, his head hanging low.

“How the fuck? Did they catch them?” Tom seethed with anger.

“No, we do have eye witnesses though.”

“How much is missing?”

“About 11 million dollars, from cash to gold bars.” Haz said, waiting for Tom to explode.

“FUCK. We need to make them pay. I’m done playing fucking games.” Tom shouted, calming himself down for his meeting with Charlie.

“Now, you said Charlie was here, right?”

“Yeah, in your office.”

“Charlie? What are you doing here?” Tom asked, a little annoyed he was taken away from his morning with his family.

“Tom, I ran my report and did diagnostics tests and it’s not good,” Charlie started.

“What the fuck does that mean, Charlie?” Tom yelled.

“I think the helicopter was sabotaged.”

“What? You mean is that someone tried to take out my wife and I while we were on a helicopter,” Tom repeated, making all the connections necessary .

“Yes, it wasn’t just a normal malfunction. Did they ever find the pilot?” Charlie asked.

“No… Jesus fucking christ, if it’s true then…Fuck, I’m sorry I have to go,” Tom yelled, running out to the car.

“Jared, home now.”

“Mr. Holland is everything alright?” Jared asked, concerned by Tom’s frantic manner.

“No. I just found out the helicopter was sabotaged. I think someone might being trying to take out Y/N and I.”

“Come on baby, pick up,” Tom whispered, frantically dialing your number over and over.

“Y/N answer the god damm phone!” Tom shouted, when heard the same voice message over and over again, “Hi, this Y/N Holland please leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

“God fucking dammit. Fuck, voicemail. Jared do you know where my wife is?” Tom yelled, afraid what your silence meant.

“Last I heard she was at the store getting groceries,” Jared explained.

“Fuck, I have here location on my phone. Change course,” Tom barked, praying you were okay. With the information he just learned he didn’t want to leave you alone, not even for a second.

“Y/N! You’re okay.” Tom said, inhaling a breath of relief. You were coming out of the store pushing a cart of groceries.

“Tom! Of course, I’m okay. What are you doing here?” You asked.

“I’ll explain later. Get Parker and Rosie we need to go home now.”

“They’re already home. Henry’s there also. You’re scaring me.” You said, Tom never acts like this.

Being a part of a mob there is a constant fear of someone behind you. All throughout Tom’s life he only had to worry about himself until he met you.

Tom’s worst fear is him being the reason you no longer walk the earth. The last week he had glimpse of life without you and didn’t care for it one bit. You weren’t a weakness but at the same time, you were. For anyone with a dangerous job there’s always a target on your back.

“Come on, love. In the car,” Tom motioned towards the car.

“Tommy, my car is here. I’ll meet you there,” you said, kissing his cheek goodbye.

“Ok just be careful please.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Ok, Jared. Home now plea—“ Tom directed but was cut off by a loud BOOM.

“Jared, what the fuck was that?” Tom asked.

“Sir, it was Mrs. Holland’s car.”

“Y/N! Y/N?” Tom jumped out of the car. Nothing else mattered in that moment, only finding you.

Time stood still as thick black smoke bled through the air. Coating everything in its path with a faint ash. Screams echoed from the bystanders as the car went up in flames.

“Tom, I’m okay. It wasn’t mine.” You exasperated, coughing from the smoke. It wasn’t your car but it was close in proximity.

“Thank god. I can’t keep almost losing you,” Tom whispered, kissing you hairline.

“I’m here now.” The second you were in his arms you knew you were safe.

“Yes you are. It sure does look hell a lot like yours, though. Come on, I’m taking you home,” Tom said, wrapping his right arm around your shoulder.

Pulling up to the manor, everything looked different. There were more guards posted at every corner with heavier weaponry. Tom had the gate barricaded with another car in case some where to ram into the gate.

“Jesus, what took you so long?” Haz said

“They tried to bomb Y/N’s car. Thankfully the dumb fucks who planted it, picked the wrong car.”

“Tom you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“I will. Family meeting in the living room. Now.”

“Some of us have some secrets to share. I want to know everything that happened here while your mother and I were in Paris. Someone start talking,” Tom said, pacing in front of Parker and Rosie sitting on the couch.

Rosie and Parker were both hiding something. Rosie’s however was a rather monumental milestone. Rosie reminisced of her wonderful night with Henry while you and Tom were away. She loved Henry so much and was overjoyed to share that experience with him.

Rosie had told Henry at the wedding that she was ready to take that next step with him. Seeing you and Tom re-commit yourselves to one another affirmed that for Rosie. That she loved him more than anything.

“I’m sorry, dad. You don’t have to worry, we were safe,” Rosie blurted out.

“What?” Tom barked growing more anger by the second.

“Henry and I used a condom,” Rosie responded.

“Rosie?” You questioned, knowing what she was talking about.

“WHAT?” Tom screamed.

“That’s not what you were hinting at?” Rosie stammered.

“No, this is about Parker,” Tom reckoned.

“Fuck,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Where the fuck is he?” Tom yelled, bolting out of the living room. Looking for the boy who had stolen Rosie’s innocence. You and Rosie soon followed hoping Tom wouldn’t do anything rash.

“Dad!”

“Tom!”

“Henry, you bastard! You fucked my daughter!” Tom shouted charging at Henry.

“Oh shit,” Henry muttered, he knew Tom could kill him in an instant.

“You went in my daughter! What’s stopping me from killing you right now.” Tom asked with gritted teeth, hoping this dumbass wouldn’t answer.

“Tom, put him down,” you said, as Tom was gripping his collar and dangling him in the air.

“Daaaadddd.”

“Tom, please,” you pleaded as Tom held a gun square to Henry’s head.

“The safety is on, I was never gonna shoot him. Just make him shit his pants a little. From now on, you two can’t be here alone. And if you are in your room the door needs to stay open,” Tom said, pointing fingers at Rosie and Henry.

“I believe we have more important business to get to. Now come on,” you said, pulling Tom away.

“Y/N, you know I was never going to actually hurt the boy right?”

“Yes, Tommy. Now please resume the family meeting.”

“Parker. Do you have something to tell us?” Tom asked, knowing his son will lie.

“I’ve been sneaking out at night and I’m sorry,” Parker started, you could hear the disappointment behind his voice.

“Why? I know it’s not because of a girl. I want to know everything,” Tom explained, fucking tired of all the lies.

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

Parker began by explaining how he felt by the loss of Charlotte and how he turned to Wilson. In Parker’s mind he was doing the right thing. Serving justice to those who wronged others. But in reality he was the one committing the wrongdoings.

Parker came clean that he was the one killing all of Tom’s men and that he killed Jazz. That he went Wilson before coming to Tom. Becoming Wilson’s secret hitman was never supposed to go this far. He only intended for it to be a big fuck you to Tom. Not destroy his livelihood and his family in the process.

Including all the details of Wilson’s secret agenda of taking you and Tom out. But Parker left out the fact that Wilson was no longer a threat. Having taken care of him the day before.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve never been this naive and stupid. I’m the one you’ve been searching for. I’m the rat,” Parker exclaimed. “Dad, say something,” he pleaded.

“Get out,” Tom said with an unchanging expression.

“What?”

“I said get the fuck out!”

“Tom,” you tried to reason.

“You are no longer my son. Betraying me, betraying your family. Get out.” Tom screamed.

A/n: I’m sorry. I like the content in this chapter but not the writing.

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