#and you’re upset that you didn’t get away with abusing a man like you thought you would

[pinguwrites]

In The Light of the Moon | Thomas Shelby

Pairing -> dark!thomas shelby x innocent!reader

Summary -> Having enough of being mistreated by your family, you decide to runaway to the small town of Birmingham. There, you meet the feared gangster, Thomas Shelby, whose intentions with you are less than pure.

Warnings -> smut (minors dni), kinda dark tommy, innocent!reader, mentions of abuse, p in v, anal, oral (both sides), fingering, allusion to stalking, bunny pet name (briefly, as a joke), lingerie, spanking, very light breeding, bleeding, pain, first time for reader

Word count: 5k

Disclaimer: Peaky Blinders characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” Tommy asked, taking a quick drag of his cigarette, the white smoke curling up in the cold, bitter air.

You hugged your body with your arms and averted your eyes. “Sir, I have to go home. It’s almost night.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, amused. “Home? The streets?”

You didn’t have anything to say to that. You were sleeping on the streets, ever since you ran away from your abusive family in London. You had nothing with you but a bag of sandwiches you were carefully portioning, some cash, and the things you were wearing — a light skirt with intricate pink patterns and boots.

“Are you here just to make fun of me?” you said, a little annoyed.

He stepped forward and brushed his fingers against your cheek. You shuddered at the feeling, involuntary leaning into his warm touch, but then you realized what you were doing and backed away.

“Such a pretty girl,” he complimented. When you pulled away, he stopped his caressing, but he didn’t bother to create space between you two. No, he seemed to like the way things were. “Where’s your family?”

“You don’t need to know,” you huffed. You were trying to sound intimidating, but your tone betrayed your emotions. You were vulnerable, without a clue of what to do.

He laughed. “You have some bite, sweetheart. Tell me, what’s your name? I told you mine.”

You hesitated.

“What’s your name?” he repeated, more forceful. “Or do you just want me to call you girl? Perhaps bunny?” He chuckled. “You’re cute like one. Ought to get you some fluffy ears and tail, maybe a collar . . .”

“I’m not a bunny!”

This man was embarrassing you. Why’d he have to say things like that? The idea of you wearing an outfit like that, probably provocative based on the manner he was suggesting, made you feel small and upset. How could he say such things so freely?

“Then what’s your name?”

You grumbled but told him anyway.

“Good girl.”

You ignored the way his words made your body tingle and warm up in all the wrong places.

“Now, did you run away?”

“Why are you so curious?” you questioned, not wanting to tell him. What if he got in contact with your family and found out about the reward they were offering for your return?

“Because you’re a strange girl who shouldn’t be here, on my fuckin’ property, and I like to know who goes on my property and why.”

“Are you a gangster, Mr. Shelby?”

You were starting to think this man wasn’t just some wealthy mayor, but rather a criminal, the kind you were always warned about. He was far too crass to be of a higher class, but he certainly had power, or he wouldn’t be acting this way.

Tommy took another puff of his cigarette. “Ah, so you know a thing or two. Thought you’d be stupid.”

“I’m not—” you cut yourself off, not wanting to engage in such useless conversation. “We’re done here. Goodnight, Mr. Shelby.”

He grabbed your wrist before you could leave. “You think I’m letting you go out there, alone? With no family to keep you safe, no man to protect you? No. You’re coming home with me. I’ll give food, shelter, nice clothes,” he tugged at your dirty dress, “a place to sleep. How does that sound?”

“I don’t even know you!” you sputtered out. “I can’t go to a stranger’s house and live with them.”

His eyes darkened. “And what is the alternative? Lay on concrete? Starve to death? Wait for some bastard to come along and hurt you the way sick men like to hurt little girls?”

You were at a loss. You had nothing to say, no argument to defend yourself. Staying at Tommy’s place sounded comfortable, but you couldn’t.

“I—I can’t.”

Tommy sighed and pulled you closer to him. “I’m just telling ya’, you wouldn’t be a burden on me. I won’t harm you, and I won’t touch you if you don’t want it.”

“You’re touching me right now!”

"There's a difference," he growled, pushing you up against him, his face inches from yours. "I'm protecting you. Do you think I’d hurt you?”

You whimpered, scared. “N-no. I—I don’t know!” you stuttered. “I barely know you, Mr. Shelby.”

You turned your head so you didn’t have to be so close to him, or look him directly in the eyes.

“You’re staying with me,” he said in your ear, his breath tickling your skin.

“. . . Yes, sir,” you breathed out, flustered at the close proximity.

===

Tommy led you back to his apartment. He got you some food and water, a cozy room to sleep in, and a hot bath. He was so generous with everything, and though you were cautious of him at first, you couldn’t help but let your fantasies run wild.

Before you could start daydreaming, Tommy entered the washroom, holding something behind his back.

You shrieked. You had just gotten out of the water and were drying yourself off with the towel, but it was too small to cover your entire body. You squeezed your legs together and covered your chest.

“You can’t be in here!”

Tommy laughed and ignored your words. “Why not? It’s my place.” But he looked away. “You were taking a while, that’s why I came in. I was worried.”

“I’m fine, you can leave now.”

“And what will you wear?”

You didn’t think of that. He hadn’t given you any clothes yet.

He showed you what he was holding, but it didn’t even look like proper clothing, rather undergarments and a skimpy top. You stared at it for a moment, before realizing he was expecting you to take it.

“I can’t wear that,” you protested.

He sighed. “‘I can’t do this’, ‘I can’t do that’, when are you going to learn to do as I tell you? I want to see you wear this, so wear it.”

You didn’t complain after that, though you did hesitate. You made him turn around while you changed, trying to fit the skimpy clothing on your body.

The bra was white and comfortable, but it would easily slip down if someone wanted it to. It accentuated the curve of your tits. It was the sexiest thing you’d ever worn, and you felt horrified at the thought of Tommy seeing you in this thing. It made you feel like a . . . like a prostitute.

The panty barely covered your ass. It was all hanging out for show. What is the point of such outfits? It’s useless! you thought.

“You can turn around now, sir. Just, please don’t stare.”

He did stare, he stared at every part of you like a hungry beast, ready to tear his prey apart. You felt wanted under his gaze, but the whole situation was making you feel a little uncomfortable. You weren’t used to behaving like this, you weren’t used to being around men like Tommy. It was all so new and daunting.

“Walk towards me,” he ordered.

You did so, hugging your body with your arms — a bad habit. Your tits were bouncing slightly with every step, but you made sure it wasn't too obvious. You couldn't help but wonder what your family would think if they saw you like this.

How have you gone from being a rich girl to living on the streets to the arms of a handsome gangster?

“Oh, that’s a nice view, sweetheart.” He licked his lips. “Turn around now.”

You did that as well.

“You see that scrubber on the floor?”

You looked, spotting the thing you used to wash yourself. It must have fallen at some point.

“Yeah, do you want me to pick it up?”

“That’s right.”

You knew your bum would be clear to him if you did, but it was your fault it was on the floor, and you felt bad about it. It was your obligation to pick it up, right? You didn't want to be a poor guest.

"Don't look."

You bent over and picked it up. Mr. Shelby let out a heavy sigh and you immediately felt something poking your behind. He was pressing his body up against you! You tried to get up, but he pushed you back down, holding your waist and shoulder so you didn’t fall over.

“What are you doing?!” You couldn't move with the way he was holding you. It was such a compromising situation, what was he trying to pull?

“You’re so easy,” he groaned. “You don’t question why I want you to wear those things? Or maybe you do know . . . dirty girl.”

He picked and placed you over his shoulders, carrying you through the apartment hallways. He led you over to his room, placing you down on his bed despite you smacking your hands against his back.

“You said you wouldn’t touch me!”

“Only if you didn’t want it. But you want this, don’t you?”

“No!” You tried to get off his bed but he pushed you back down with a thud. “. . . Maybe. I don’t know! I’ve never done this before."

You didn't even know what exactly he wanted to do with you. You were vaguely aware of promiscuous activities ungentlemanly men got up to at night, and that it could sometimes result in babies, but you were uneducated on the details.

His gaze softened. “It’s alright, sweetheart. I know you’re a virgin. I’ll be gentle at first, okay?” He gave you a rough kiss, his tongue flicking against your bottom lip.

"Mmph!"

You tried to push him off you but he wouldn't have any of it. He pinned your arms above your head and continued to ravish you, nipping at your neck with his teeth, running his hands all over your body — your arms, your stomach, your thighs, all the way down to your feet.

His lips finally left yours, but before you could say anything, they were back on.

You couldn't deny, it felt good. This was the best you'd ever felt your entire life, even more so than that one time your desires got the best of you and you tried touching yourself, though that was probably because that time resulted in a swift confession and punishment.

Tommy started grinding his hips between your legs, making you moan against his mouth. He pulled away, still rolling his body. "See? You're enjoying it." He let go of your hands, to which you immediately gripped the back of his shirt. “I know you want this,” he continued. “Say you want this.”

You didn’t say anything, too overwhelmed to respond. You weren’t sure what you wanted.

He stopped and you whined.

“Say you want this,” he said, his nose brushing up against yours. “Say you want me to fuck you.”

“I don’t know, Mr. Shelby. I shouldn’t . . .”

“But you should,” he convinced. “I won’t dump you after I’m done. I’ll take care of you. You’ll live here, with me, okay? You’ll be my sweetheart, my pet.”

He leaned down to kiss you again, but you placed your hands against his chest.

“I don’t know how to have—how to,” you struggled to find the words.

“How to what? Fuck?” He laughed. “I’ll teach ya’. What do you know?”

It felt weird saying it out loud, but you did. “A man and a woman need to be married,” — Tommy huffed at that — “and a man is supposed to take his . . . well, I’m not sure, but he’s supposed to take a part of him and put it inside a woman’s privates.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know,” he said, but he didn’t look upset at your lack of knowledge. “I’ll show you, but first I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. Do you want to know what I’m going to do to you?”

You nodded your head slowly in anticipation, not ready for how vulgar it was going to be.

“I’m going to split you open on my cock and fuck you till you go dumb,” he said, grabbing his crotch. “This thing here, it’s called a cock, and I’ve got the best one you’ll ever see.” He pulled it out, a hard length, too long and thick to possibly fit in you. It was throbbing, with some type of liquid leaking out the top. “Look at it. This is what I’m going to ram inside your holes — all three of them.”

Your breathing hitched and you gasped. “All of them? I don’t understand—”

He interrupted you by forcing two of his fingers down your throat, making you gag and sputter, tears welling up in your eyes. “My cock will go inside your mouth first. It’ll make me feel good. I’ll teach you how to suck properly, how to lick, how to swallow.”

He removed his now wet fingers, letting you relax for a brief moment, but then he flipped you over onto your stomach and pulled your panties down, giving a nice, hard slap to your ass.

You yelped.

He spread your cheeks apart and pushed his finger in your hole, just a little bit, to give you the idea. You squirmed. It didn’t hurt that much, but you were sure if he went further in it would.

“Then here, sweetheart. We’ll spend a lot of time here. It’s always been my favorite.”

You thought about how his cock was supposed to fit in there. His fingers already felt too big. 

“It won’t fit—”

“—It will. I’ll shove it in until it does.” 

His hand snaked under your stomach and down between your legs. “And here.” He brushed his fingers against your folds and over your entrance. “Your pussy. I’ll fuck it, and you’ll take it, like the good girl I know you are.”

You felt your heart beat against your chest like it was going to jump out. In excitement or fear, you did not know.

“Will it hurt?”

“Yes, and it may even bleed, but only for a while. I promise I’ll make it feel good. Now, flip over and spread your legs.”

You rested on your back and widened your legs, wondering what he was going to do when he placed a pillow under your hips, moved your panty to the side, and kissed your pussy with fervor.

“What are you doing?” you asked curiously, the sensation feeling warm and weird.

“I need to get you ready, and I want to show you what an orgasm feels like.”

“An orgasm?”

“You’ll see.”

He flicked his tongue over your bud, sucking on it, holding your hips in place. It felt like heaven, enough to make you forget your guilt and focus on the way he was eating you out. 

“Oh,” you moaned softly, looking down at Tommy. He was looking up at you, observing your reactions, trying to see if this made you feel good or that. He was doing it with such precision, too. It felt sloppy and messy, the sounds of his kisses a loud pucker, but it couldn’t have been unthoughtful, because it felt so good.

He kept doing it. Your body was tingling as he started to get more passionate, finally pushing his tongue inside your pussy.

“Huh,” you let out.

“I’m going to put my fingers inside now,” he told you. “Just relax.” He slid his hand up and down your thigh soothingly. “Relax.”

You loosened your tense muscles and rested your head on the pillow. You shut your eyes, trying to let your thoughts go blank, but the sudden intrusion of his finger was too painful for you to ignore.

“It hurts,” you whispered.

“I’ll go slower.”

He pushed in a little further. He wasn’t going slower, or at least, it didn’t feel like he was.

“How much more needs to go in?”

“About three more quarters of what’s already there,” he guessed. “But I’ll need to put two more fingers in after that, and then my cock.”

You looked down at his cock. It was still open, hanging firm out of his trousers. Huge and thick and fat. You were sure he was lying when he said it would fit. You imagined him trying to push it in, but failing, because how could that possibly make its way inside you?

“I wish it didn’t hurt, sweetheart. I wish I could take away your pain.”

Now his finger was halfway through. It was like someone had placed an object where it was not meant to be. How could this be natural if it was so painful?

“Just a little bit more.” He continued running his other hand up and down your thigh. “You’re taking it so well.”

He pushed the rest of it in, letting it stay for a bit.

“Shh,” he soothed. He brushed your hair out of your face, curling his finger inside. “You’re alright, you’ll be alright.”

He pulled his finger out. There was a bit of blood on it, mixing with your clear juices. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, looking away. It was disgusting.

“No, don’t apologize. It’s normal. I won’t have you feeling ashamed of yourself.”

He added another and did the same thing. Eventually, he was pushing in and out at a slow, steady pace. It was horribly painful, but it was starting to feel a little good, especially with the way he started licking your pussy again.

“One more. Just one more.”

You cried out. “Too much!”

He didn’t respond.

Your walls were being stretched, and you felt like you were a stretchy piece of fabric about to get ripped apart. But the pleasure of his tongue managed to counter it a little.

You felt a strange sensation in your belly, coupled with pain.

“I—I,” you tried to say.

“I know. Come for me, sweetheart. Come on my fingers.”

You came — whatever that meant. You felt like you were at some peak, a little dizzy in the head, with some substance leaking out of your body.

You panicked, worried it was something else, but to your shock, it was white, and Tommy was lapping it up.

“W-what’s that?”

“Your cum. It’s what happens when you orgasm.”

You nodded your head in understanding, even though you didn’t fully understand. It was like heaven, pure bliss, and as long as it was happening, you were fine with being ignorant. You just wanted to feel that way again, and you wanted to make Tommy feel that way, too. 

“Are you ready, sweetheart?”

Tommy took his cock in his hands and gave it a few pumps. You sat up. He pushed the tip to your lips and you gave it a lick. It was an alright taste. 

You looked up at Tommy nervously, running your fingers down his length.

“Just leave some kisses along it,” he instructed. “I’m not expecting your first time to be perfect.”

You did as he said. He didn’t make any noises, but you were observant and could tell his breathing was getting a little uneven. When you put his tip in your mouth, his hand went to the back of your head, guiding and gentle.

You pulled away. “Do I just . . . take it all?”

“Yes, sweetheart. It’s okay if you gag, just push it all the way in. Breathe through your nose.”

Calming your nerves, you slipped about a fourth of his cock into your mouth, wetting it, swirling your tongue around the way you did sweets like ice cream. 

“Use your hands for what can’t fit.”

You started pumping the rest of his length, the way you saw him do.

Tommy finally made a noise, a little groan. It made you feel more confident that what you were doing was right, so you started sucking more passionately, with more enthusiasm, taking in more of his length — enough to make a difference, but not enough to make you gag.

Tommy let out a little choke and started pushing your head down on him. “Think you can take all of it?”

You couldn’t say anything with your mouth filled, but it was a yes. You wanted to push yourself.

“Good.”

He gave a quick, experimental thrust into your mouth, one that made you gag. Tears welled up in your eyes, but it was gone after a few seconds. It was just so unexpected. It didn’t hurt much, it just felt odd and uncomfortable.

He kept thrusting, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside your mouth. Every time you thought it couldn’t go any further, he proved you wrong. Now you really were crying. You thought that maybe he would stop, but all he did was make a shushing sound and wipe away your tears.

You tried to make the experience as pleasurable as possible for him, and it seemed to be satisfying enough because he didn’t ask you to do anything different. He just had that blank stare, grunting, the only sounds in the room ones of him and the slurping noise you were making.

After a few more minutes, he told you he was coming, and forced you to swallow his sticky, white liquid. 

He pulled out and you coughed. 

You went to him for some comfort, but he was already leaving the room.

You were confused, your throat sore, but then he came back with a glass of water and a wet towel. He cleaned off your face and helped you drink. It made you feel much better.

“I’m tired, Mr. Shelby,” you said.

“Such a princess,” he responded. “Have to do some work once and decide you don’t like it? Just want your own pleasure?”

His words made you look down. Now that you knew how it felt to orgasm that was all you wanted to do, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t enjoy your mouth on Tommy’s cock. You were sure that you would get used to it after a few more times, and soon it would stop feeling so uncomfortable. 

“No.”

“It’s okay. All you have to do now is take it.”

You remembered his words. He was going to take your ass next. 

“Can’t we wait a bit—?”

“No,” he growled, pushing you on your hands and knees. “I’ve waited too fuckin’ long.”

Waited too long?

“And besides,” he continued. “Don’t you want this?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “But I just want a little break—”

He slapped your ass hard and you cried out. “What do I have to do to make you listen to me, huh? Is it a good spanking? ‘cause I can do that.”

“No,” you whimpered. “I’ll be good, m’sorry.”

He spanked you again, pulling your underwear all the way down and tossing it to the side of the room. “I think I do want to spank you. Pretty, rich girls like you don’t get much discipline, eh?”

You did, but you didn’t know how to say it.

He pulled your top down a little, to reveal some small scars. You knew he could see them, but you couldn’t see his reaction.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” he asked.

“Yes, yes!”

“And what does that mean?”

“It means doing as you tell me, sir.”

Satisfied with your response, he rubbed your sore ass, trying to make it feel better.

He grabbed a bottle from the nightstand and applied it on his hands. “This is lube, sweetheart. It’ll reduce the friction.”

He slid his lubed-up finger in your ass and you hissed.

It was the same process he did with your pussy. He pushed in and out, stretching out your hole. It hurt, and you were sure it was bleeding a little, but after a while, it began to feel pleasurable.

Tommy’s fingers started rubbing your clit, distracting you from the pain. He pressed the tip of his fat cock in your ass, shoving it inside it.

“Mr. Shelby, slow down!” you squeaked out.

He didn’t listen. He pushed his cock further in, and it made you feel like your insides were going to snap if he stretched them too much.

“Mmm,” you winced, “is that all?”

“Fuck. That’s only half.”

Tommy held your shoulder with his other hand on your waist. “So tight,” he murmured, pushing further in. “You’re going to make a good pet, I can tell.”

The term was degrading, but you didn’t say anything, not like you had the guts to when he was inside you, not after he warned you that you would get a spanking if you didn’t behave like a good girl.

“Oh, Mr. Shelby.”

He pushed himself all the way in. You felt so full of his cock, and you had half a mind to ask him to stop. He was beginning to move, slowly at first, making sure that you were okay with it.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Tommy asked. The hand on your waist moved to your top, his fingers sliding underneath it.

“Y-yeah.”

“Good.”

He picked up the pace, his balls slapping against your body. Suddenly, the force of his thrusting was pushing you forward, the only thing stopping you from falling over was his grip. You cried out, the pain and pleasure too much for you to handle. 

Your breasts started to bounce, but their movement was being held by the top he gave you, which Tommy slowly pulled up. Tommy pinched your nipples, flicking them, twisting them, pulling on them, whatever he wanted. You whined, half-heartedly trying to shove him away, but while he did stop, he was still cupping your breasts in his hands, continuing to ram your ass. 

‘This is what I want from you,” he grunted, thrusting his cock deeper and deeper inside. “Most days, I’ll want to fuck you like this. I’ll — ah — I’ll expect you to be ready on your hands and knees when I tell you to.”

Occasionally, you could feel the scrape of his pants against your skin, reminding you that his clothes were still on. You moaned when he started rubbing your clit more vigorously.

“Spread your legs further apart,” he ordered.

You did, which only made him gain access to a deeper part inside of you. 

He continued his brutal assault for a couple more minutes until he changed his position. He forced you to lay down on your stomach while he draped his body over your back, thrusting stiff and rough. Now, he could start kissing your shoulders, the back of your neck, any part of your body he couldn’t reach before.

He finally came into your hole, his whiteness spurting out. You could feel it drip out and down your thighs. You tried to wipe it away but he wouldn’t let you.

He flipped you over on your back. He took off your top completely, admiring your naked body. Despite the fact that this man had just taken your virginity, his hungry stare made you cover yourself up. You supposed it was because you weren’t used to it.

“Oi!”

You immediately sprawled your body, fearing a reprimand. 

“There ya’ go.”

He grabbed another wet towel and wiped off your body. He told you it was important, to keep clean and safe.

As you expected, he didn’t give you much of a break. In this hour, you figured that he could only fuck you — or prefer to — when his cock was hard, and within a few moments, it was already starting to rise up.

Once he got his cock inside your pussy, all the way in, despite your squirms, he started fucking — rough, hard, and fast.

“So good,” he praised. “So good for me.”

You whined in response. He was gripping your waist like his life depended on it, making sure you couldn’t squirm or move away. 

“You’re learning so well. Keep still.”

His movements were making the bed and your body shake. You whined, pathetic mewls leaving your mouth. You really weren’t sure how much more of this you could take. Your limbs were starting to feel sore and your mind foggy, like if you didn’t take a break you would pass out from the sheer intensity of the moment alone.

But you didn’t want to. You fought to open your eyes. You didn’t want Tommy to know you couldn’t take it anymore, that would be embarrassing. 

He finally came inside of you, locking your hips together as he murmured something about your breasts getting bigger and swollen, which you didn’t understand, but didn’t ask for clarification regardless.

He pulled out and collapsed beside you, droplets of sweat trickling down his forehead. He was exhausted, and so were you.

After taking a few minutes to yourselves, Tommy said, “I’m never going to let you go, you hear me? Never.”

You didn’t say anything. Somewhere in all that fucking you had accepted your fate. You belonged to Thomas Shelby now, and that was just the way things had to be.

“I ran away,” you finally confessed. “My family . . . they weren’t nice to me. Promise me,” you said seriously, looking into Tommy’s beautiful eyes. “Promise me you won’t send me back. If . . . if you don’t want me anymore, you can just send me on my way, not back to them. Promise?”

Tommy laughed, as if what you had just said was absurd.

“I won’t let you go back to your family. Those oil bastards.”

You paused. How did he know they were in the oil business?

“How did you—?”

“Shhh.” Tommy placed a finger over your lips, silencing your words. “You’re tired. It’s time to sleep.”

“But—”

“Sleep.” He caressed your face, running his fingers through your hair. You couldn’t fight the command, you were truly feeling sleepy, and all you wanted to do was shut your eyes and rest.

But that nagging thought in your head. How did he know?

He didn’t give you any more time to think. He pulled you close to him, close enough so that your head was resting on his shoulder and your legs were draped over his body.

“Sweet dreams. Tomorrow we’ll have a few more rounds. You’ll need your rest.”

And with that, your eyes fluttered shut and you were taken away into the abyss of darkness, into your dreams. 

Taglist:

@henrywintersdearestgirl

@alice-drysdale

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x you #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #pinguwrites

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 50 || The Sad Backstory

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, heavy angst, childhood trauma, heavy mentions of violence/abuse, & death mentioning.

[ { A/N } ] ➤ The family dynamic isn’t canon to the anime/manga at all, in case that wasn’t obvious before now. So, the relations depicted here are simply made up for fanfic purposes. (Just wanted to put this disclaimer out there just in case)

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.2k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——IT WAS SILENT for the first few minutes. Aside from the heat blowing onto the two of you, there was this sense of distance and coldness in the air.

Was that due to the rain? Was it the weather that’d brought such a despairing feel to the two of you? Or, was it truly that distance and coldness were approaching?

You didn’t know what to say just yet and neither did Choso. The thoughts in his brain had slowed and he was organizing how he should go about this while wondering if you’d just come out and explain yourself.

Who should start this tough conversation, he or you? Does it matter? If you don’t start, does that silently say something about you and what's been done? If he doesn’t start, does that make him seem upset with you? The two of you collectively felt the same thing and you both didn’t know what to do.

You weren’t used to getting to this point in a conversation. What you’d grown accustomed to was nothing but confusion on top of vague explanations that further clouded your blurred assumptions of the truth. Gojo had done that to you far too many times for you to know what to do now.

How… What’s the right way to tell Choso everything? Are you going to tell him everything? Is it best that you do? What if he hates you like how you hated Gojo? It wouldn’t be weird after all, you hated Gojo and loved him at the same time— whether or not you’d like to admit it.

What about Gojo-, wait what? What about Gojo? Why are you considering him right now? Are you worried that if you explain the story of the list, it’ll put this negative stigma on Gojo? Who cares?

You do.

You hate that you do but it’s true.

You’ve seen too many sides of Gojo for you not to care about painting him as some big villain when, at the end of the day, even villains have tragic stories that molded them into the person they are now. That doesn’t excuse the man but since you know nothing of the truth about Gojo, you can’t see yourself making him seem like a bad guy anymore.

He has his issues, sure. But, you don’t know why. That’s what makes this all so damn difficult.

How can you tell Choso that the other person you fell in love with is the reason you slept with Sukuna? What would Choso think of that? Would he pity you or would he blame you for not coming to him sooner?

How the hell are you going to-

“Baby,” Choso calls out, ripping you from your thoughts completely. You’d zoned out and didn’t even realize you had tears in your eyes until you blinked them away and turned your head to Choso.

His hand reaches over to you and he places it atop your thigh. You look down and notice your leg has been bobbing up and down excessively. Were you that anxious?

This won’t go badly, right? Why are you panicking? Are you-

“Relax,” Choso whispers, and his thumb swirls over your thigh, trying to soothe you. “Whatever you’re thinking, ignore it.”

You swallow and stare at the man with widened eyes, “But-“

“It’s just you and me right now,” He says, forcing a soft smile on his face, “Get outta’ your head.”

You take a deep breath and sniffle, batting your eyelashes as you try to rid your eyes of the tears. Choso lifts his hand from your thigh and in a way that seems to be second nature to him, he wipes away the tears from your face.

“It’s just me ‘nd you, baby,” He murmurs, “Stop being so nervous, okay?”

“Choso,” You hum, watching the way his gaze softens.

“Yes princess?” He replies. His voice is so gentle now that it’s making you feel guilty for some reason.

You exhale carefully, “What if… W-What if I tell you everything a-and you…” Your eyes water all over again, “What if you hate me-“

He cuts you off with the sound of your first name leaving his lips. His tone is still light but there’s this sternness to it, almost as if he didn’t like what you just said, “There’s no truth you can give me that’d make me hate you.” Choso reassures you, leaning closer just a bit, “I love you. Everything that’s you, I love.”

Your nerves are still unsettled, “E-Even if-“

“The worst thing you could say to be is that you’re in love with Sukuna,” He tells you, scoffing a little.

You shake your head no and your face twists up, “I’m not.”

“Alright then.” Choso shrugs, “I told you, I’ll love you no matter what. In a dark room, you’re my light, no matter how dim that light may be.”

You frown, “Cho, you really did lie, you’re just fine with words.”

“Only at times like this,” He murmurs, “When uh, when it’s you I guess…”

You lift a hand up to your face, pulling his hand away and turning to it. Choso watches you as you shyly kiss his palm and he swallows down the tsunami of loving feelings that threatened to drown him. Such a simple action and yet it made his mind blank for a second.

Then you move away from his hand, “Okay,” You utter, “Where uhm…” Your eyes trail back over to him, “Where should I start?”

You release his hand and he retracts it from you simply. Thinking for a minute, Choso does that thing where he studies your eyes, losing himself in them. Then, he lets out a sigh when he comes up with something.

“What if we uh,” He moves to adjust himself in his seat, “What if I ask you questions and you just answer?” Choso suggests.

You blink, “You… You don’t want me to just tell you everything?”

“No,” He sighs, “There are certain things I don’t think I’d want to know.”

By that, it’s meant that you may give him details that he just doesn’t want in his brain. Choso wants the truth, yes, but only parts of the truth that won’t make him feel sick. Knowing that you had sex with Sukuna is already enough, he doesn’t need more details surrounding that. Hence the offering of asking questions. 

“Okay,” You murmur.

“But,” Choso’s brows knit together and he faces forward in deep thought, “Well, I don’t know if maybe I should just tell you everything first.”

You turn to face forward as well, your eyes dropping down to your lap as you toy with your fingers, “Well, that’s up to you I guess. Is it better for you to tell me everything so that I have it in mind or is it better to know all I’ve done as you tell me everything?”

He swallows, “The first, I think.”

“Did that even make sense?” You breathe out to yourself, worrying that you may have confused him-

“Yeah,” Choso says, “Yeah it did. T-That’s uh, that’s actually better than what I suggested.”

“Is it?” You ask, glancing at him.

He nods, “Mhm, I think if I tell you everything, you may understand the reactions I’ll have to certain answers you give me.”

A sigh slips past you, “Okay, tell me everything then.”

There’s a hint of a smile there on his face but it lingers for only less than a second before that, and every ounce of emotion is drained from his face. Choso’s face goes completely expressionless.

“Where do I even start…” He mutters.

Your voice is soft with him, “Wherever feels most comfortable.”

“Everything about what I’ve experienced with Sukuna is uncomfortable.” He huffs out, “And… I’ve never told anyone about it.”

“Not even…” You bite your lower lip for a second but then you ask anyway, “Not even Yuki?”

“She learned more about Sukuna in that cafe than she has during her relationship with me so, no.” Choso explains, “I don’t like talking about him.”

“I understand.” You say, nodding, “And that’s alright, I’m not going anywhere so, take your time.”

“Alright,” Choso sighs heavily, “Well…”

He starts slow, careful even. It was clear by the way he shifted in his seat and put his words together in a well throughout manner.

Choso began by explaining when he met Sukuna. Because they’re step-siblings, they only share one parent and in this case, it was their father. Choso explained how his dad was a complicated man who found himself having two different women in which he went back and forth between.

Choso met Sukuna when he was five years old, Sukuna being eight at the time. From first impressions, Choso tells you that he thought it was cool to have an older sibling and that he looked up to Sukuna. At five, only Eso was born and not yet Kechizu.

Given that, Choso knew what it was like to play the role of an older brother and he loved it so he thought it’d be amazing to have that experience for himself. Only, Sukuna was the worst thing to ever happen to him. Choso describes in vivid detail how eight-year-old Sukuna looked. For one, the resemblance to the later-born Yuji is uncanny, one would mistake them for twins if they were the same age.

Even so, Sukuna’s appearance was odd. He was only eight and yet he had a bruised lip and a look of pure hate in his eyes. At the time, Choso thought it was cool that Sukuna was hurt but seemed unfazed by the pain and even wanted to be like him.

But, the second five-year-old Choso found himself alone with the older boy and made the mistake of commenting on his bruised lip, praising it in an attempt to connect with him, Sukuna punched him.

One hit was all Choso needed to realize, even at the age of five, growing up with Sukuna wasn’t going to be as pleasant as he thought. And it sure as hell wasn’t, there was nothing pleasant about growing up with Sukuna, especially when Choso’s mother later passed away during the birth of Kechizo.

She was a soft-spoken woman who hardly spoke up for herself in regard to her husband who had an entirely different family so, when she passed, Choso remembers being sad but the emotion didn’t remain long. Anger clouded Choso more than anything at the time and to make matters worse, he and his two younger siblings moved in with his step-family.

It was torture. The process of raising his two younger brothers while being beaten up and ridiculed by an older brother simply made Choso’s life hell. Violence seemed to follow him everywhere. From Sukuna hitting him whenever he felt like it to watching Sukuna’s mother beat up on his father, Choso became very well acquainted with abuse and violence.

Because he knew no better, he never really stood up for himself either. In the slim chance he did, Sukuna would proceed to simply bully him— locking him in a dark room for hours knowing it scared Choso, beating him with items, some sharp, some dull, he doesn’t remember, it all hurt the same.

This hate that burns in Choso’s heart for Sukuna just built up over the years more and more until Yuji was born.

Choso tells you he never knew why but when the kid was born, Sukuna softened up on him for a while. Choso was nine when Yuji was born so for four years before that, he’d been bullied, outcast, and abused by his family, safe from his younger siblings of course.

Maybe it was the way Sukuna softened up after his youngest brother was born that Choso found himself catering to Yuji more than anything. Perhaps it was an act of thanks as Yuji felt like his savior when all he did was be born.

Even so, as much as Choso denies it, Yuji was his favorite. Not at first though, when he initially saw the bright pink-haired baby, he was repulsed, thinking this would be Sukuna in smaller form. Said repulsion remained until the first time Yuji smiled at him.

It was different. Sukuna never smiled so, Choso knew then that Yuji would be nothing like his older identical sibling.

Even so, years passed and Choso continued to endure abuse for his now three younger brothers. Sukuna never laid a hand on any of them since he had Choso to beat up on and for a while, Choso was okay with that.

But of course, that only lasted until their parents passed. A car accident was all it took to strip all five children of their parents. But, by that time, Sukuna was eighteen and immediately put in charge of his four other siblings. It was unjust, of course, as no eighteen-year-old should have to raise four siblings by himself.

Choso tells you how he doesn’t remember how it all worked exactly but, Sukuna managed to convince those of the law to have him become their parental guardian. The man got a well-paying job, god knows what it was too because he had so much money, he made sure that all four boys were able to continue to attend school, etc.

Basically, of all this care and parenting, what Choso couldn’t understand is why Sukuna did that. He didn’t know why Sukuna didn’t simply allow the four to go to some orphanage and part ways, it’s not like he ever showed love to them anyway.

But, Choso eventually learned the answer as Sukuna treated all four of his younger siblings as his servants— forcing them to do whatever he needed, regardless of the wrong behind it or the difficulty. Choso lived with Sukuna as his parental figure in that big house he now throws parties at for years.

And for some time, he really believed Sukuna couldn't get any worse. That was, until at age seventeen Choso witnessed with his own eyes Sukuna knocking a woman out.

“He what?” You scoff.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It was already a lot to take in but the most unbelievable part of it was Sukuna’s treatment of women, especially after you think back to how he treated you.

“You heard me,” Choso hums, shrugging, “He knocked her out cold. Hell, I thought she was dead.”

Your lashes are batting in disbelief, “He just… He just punched this random chick?”

“W-Well, no, of course not,” Choso goes to explain further, “From what I remember, that was his girlfriend…”

You scoff, “You’re joking.”

“I’m not, she used to come over all the time before that,” He tells you.

Then, Choso explains the entire day to you.

How that day Sukuna came home late in the afternoon covered in bruises, cuts, and blood. Choso tells you he tried to ask Sukuna what happened but, naturally, all he got was a simple fuck off from his older brother. Of course, Choso didn’t need to be told twice and he did that.

Barely twenty minutes had gone by and the doorbell rang. Choso was in another room but he heard Sukuna go to answer it, followed by the sound of his girlfriend’s voice. Choso tells you it sounded like they were arguing and it was so loud and heated up until the sound of a slap echoed throughout the house.

Choso had gotten up from where he was and went to go see what happened and just as he neared the corner, he heard the sound of a punch, followed by a slight crack, and then a thump. When he rounded the corner, he saw Sukuna standing over his girlfriend who was out cold on the ground with what seemed to be a broken jaw.

You’re told that this was the only time he’d ever seen Sukuna act so oddly because although he couldn’t see his face, Sukuna’s fingers were trembling and he was breathing heavily. Then, Choso thinks he imagined it but he swears he saw something wet fall from Sukuna’s face.

“I think it was blood though,” Choso says, “I can’t imagine that man crying but, he did stand there for a while.”

“So, he knocked his girlfriend out and just stood there?”

“Yeah, for at least five minutes just staring down at her, almost like he was waiting for her to get back up,” Choso proceeds, “And when he did move, it was to look back at me. I was scared he’d take his anger out on me like always but, he didn’t.”

“What did he do?”

“He told me that if there’s anything he wants me to learn from him,” Choso slowly looks at you, “It’s that I should ‘never let a woman destroy what makes me a man’.”

“I see.”

“Either way, Sukuna changed again after that.” He goes on with his story, having grown more comfortable with opening up to you, “He went back to hitting me, threatening to hurt Eso and Kechizu, never Yuji though…”

You listened again, nodding and taking in everything given to you.

Choso explains that this continued until he turned eighteen and Sukuna was twenty-one. Choso didn’t hesitate to move out and in doing so, he was soon able to gain custody of his brothers, just not Yuji.

He hated that he couldn’t take Yuji with him as he moved out but, he thought maybe it’d be okay since Sukuna never touched Yuji. Choso hates thinking back on it now because he wishes he fought harder.

Even so, Sukuna just had his way over those in law, or maybe connections, Choso wasn’t sure but he somehow managed to keep Yuji under his guidance. That’s when Choso requested one thing from Sukuna, that request being that Yuji is actually taken care of and never touched.

Less than a month after Sukuna agreed to this promise, Choso came over to check on his youngest sibling, and lo and behold, the kid had a black eye. Choso had never felt such a murderous intent rile up in him the way it had that day.

He and Sukuna fought later that day, Choso not only lost said fight but also knew that because of it, he’d never be able to win custody over Yuji since Sukuna pulled the self-defense card.

Either way, to wrap things up, Choso tells you that since then he’s been back and forth between school and court trying to win custody over Yuji. He’s still struggling with it but he’s trying his hardest. Choso tells you he’s lucky enough to have his other two brothers, who reside in a distant relative’s place now.

Even with the tiring processes of legal proceedings and court battles, Choso explains he’ll keep trying until he physically can’t anymore because he refuses to allow Sukuna to harm Yuji forever. Plus, that bright smile of Yuji’s is what keeps Choso motivated.

It was like Yuji knew his big dark-haired brother would help him out eventually. And even if he didn’t, Choso points out to you how Yuji talks like he didn’t mind fighting with Sukuna and that he’s managed to sneak a few hits on the guy before.

In the midst of all that, there was that day Choso ran into you.

“Like I said, violence follows me everywhere so it’s kinda funny how we literally ran into each other,” Choso exclaims, his face brightening back up for the first time since this convo started. “I was… I dunno, enamored by you? I mean, I’ve had crushes and girlfriends before but just that small first convo with you was everything to me.”

“I’m glad I was feeling talkative that day,” You joke, “Normally I would’ve picked my stuff up and ran off, especially since you’re hot.”

Choso can’t help the grin that spreads across his face, “Mhm, same here. Those shoes you were wearing really caught my eye though.”

“Yeah and your face tatt’ caught mine,” You explain, smiling to yourself as you both recall it, “It’s kinda sad to find out you only got it to cover a scar. I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”

Choso shrugs, “It’s fine now. I uh, I actually feel better now that I’ve said it all out loud.”

“Really?” You ask, tilting your head a bit.

“Mhm.” He hums, “I mean, it wasn’t easy to explain, sorry for stuttering so much by the way, but I’m still glad it’s all out now.”

A wider smile spread across your face and despite the tragic story just heard you’re thankful, “Thank you for opening up to me.”

“Thank you for letting me,” Choso replies.

The two of you look at one another. It’s a long gaze, a connecting gaze, a telling one. Sounds of rain hitting the car are heard but it’s all a blur as you both simply take in one another.

That was until you utter his name, “Choso.”

“Yes?” He whispers, his voice slipping out so small as if the next thing you say could make or break him.

Your hand reaches over and his eyes drop to it for a moment as it goes to his face and you shift in your seat so that both of your hands can cup his cheeks in your palms. Choso blinks, wondering what exactly you are doing until you pull him close and lean in.

When close enough, you stare right into his eyes and carefully speak, “In case you haven’t been told enough,” You start, “And, in case you don’t know, you didn’t deserve any of that.”

He nods, “I know-“

“You deserve love, Choso.” You claim.

He swallows hard, worried about where this is going.

A sigh slips past your lips, “And I’m not a perfect person but…”

Choso’s brows raise, “But…?”

“Uh, I don’t know if I can give that to you.” You warn.

He couldn’t believe what you just said, “What?”

“In the way you deserve.” You quickly clarify, “I can love you Choso b-but I’m no better than-“

“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.” Choso cuts off, “Whatever love you want to give me I’ll take it happily.”

Now you’re nervous and almost insecure given what you know and have done, “What if it’s not enough?”

“We’ll make it enough.” He argues.

You frown, “Choso…”

“I’m serious. I’ve explained myself to you already, I hope it’s understandable that any love you give me I’ll take and cherish for as long as you’ll let me.”

“But you could find so much better-, so much more.”

“I don’t wanna search anymore,” He hums, “And what better is there for me to find? What’s more than you?” 

Your brows pinch together, “Someone who can love you better than me-“

“That person doesn’t exist.”

“Yes they do-“

“Well, I don’t want them.” Choso cuts off. Nothing you say will change his mind.

You roll your eyes, “You need to raise your standards.”

“Why?” He almost smiles, “My standard is you.”

You scoff, “My point exactly-“

Just as quickly as he nearly smiled, he got serious again, “You make me happy and feel like I’m wanted. What more could I ask for?”

“Certainty.” You tell him.

“We’re certain now, aren’t we?”

“I-I don’t know.”

Choso tilts his head at you, “You said earlier that you thought about changing what we are…”

“I know but then everything came out and-“

“And nothing changed.” He interprets, “My feelings for you didn’t change.”

The way he won’t hear your warnings makes you nervous all over again, “Well let me get the rest of the truth out and see if it does.”

“It won’t.”

Sighing, “You don’t know that.” You say.

“I’m telling you, it won’t.” Choso refutes.

“Choso-“

“Baby you could kill someone and I’d still love you.” He claims dramatically.

You blink repetitively, “I-“

His eyes close for a moment as he takes in what he just said, “I know that sounds crazy but, I’m serious.”

It’s hard to wrap your head around but you try, “Why?”

“Because I can’t get rid of it,” Choso explains vaguely.

“Rid of what?”

“These feelings I hold for you.” The way he clarifies everything after a simple question is so refreshing for you, “They don’t go away. No matter how angry or unsure I am, it’s always there. Even when I left you, I wanted to come back because I still loved you.”

“Choso, this is-“

“I told you I’m good at waiting. If the truth from you is poison then let me intoxicate myself. Let me feel the pain that is loving you if that’s what it is.”

“Y-You really need someone better-“

“Why?” Choso isn’t getting it in the slightest and he does not plan to, “Are you not perfect for me?”

“No, I’m not.” You explain.

“I think you are.” He shrugs.

“You’re delusional.”

“Very.”

Yeah, there’s no getting through to this man. He’s in love with you and hopelessly blinded by it too. Thank god you’re not some manipulative bitch because it’d be disastrous for this man if you were.

Choso then moves to comfort himself in his seat again and you do too. “Anyway,” Choso says, “Now that I’ve explained myself…”

You swallow this thick lump of nerves in your throat.

“Can I ask you the first question I have?” He requests.

“Of course.”

“How many?” Choso questions vaguely.

“How many, what…?”

“Guys,” He glances at you, “How many guys have you slept with since knowing me?”

Yep.

You’re fucked.

It was only the first question and you already didn’t want to answer.

But, he deserves to know right? 

Choso deserves to know…

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

tags;

@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

#the f*ck list #the fuck list #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x reader #choso x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #sukuna x reader #naoya x reader #geto x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #nanami kento x reader #choso kamo x reader #kamiverse #kamiversee #wattpad #smut fic #jjk smut #gojo smut #geto smut #choso smut #toji smut

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 20

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: weekends aren't for rest, they're for being sick and anxious so Monday will be a treat.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As you enter, you try your best not to make too much noise. You set the bags down lightly and ease the inner door shut. You can hear your dad and the soft sound of puzzle pieces meeting the table.

“Ya know, thirty years almost, but I can see her just like yesterday,” he says.

Your heart clutches. You never heard him talk about your mom. When you were a kid and didn’t know better, he just ignored all your questions about her. When you got older, you stopped asking. You figured it’s easier for both of you to pretend she never was.

“I’m sorry, hon,” Leslie comforts, “you know, in my line of work, I’ve seen it over and over. It’s a wound you can’t heal.”

“Oh yeah,” he grits, “yeah, I’d say…”

You swallow and lean back on your foot, crinkling the bags behind you. You cringe as you hear sudden movement. You turn and work to slip off the white loafers. You pretend like you weren’t listening as Leslie’s shadow looms from the archway.

“You’re home,” she proclaims, “we didn’t think you’d be so early.”

“Me either,” you say as you face her. 

Her lashes flick and her mouth opens, “oh my, you look so good! Weren’t you working today?”

“Uh, did some work,” you lie, “I got a few hours off so I… did some running around.”

“Oh, gosh, come on, you have to show your dad,” she takes you by the wrist and tugs you around, “Charles, look at your girl.”

She presents you with her hands on your shoulders. You can’t even look at your dad as the couch creaks and he grunts at your appearance. He snorts and pushes another piece into the puzzle.

“What am I looking at?” He sneers.

“Charles, don’t be like that. Look at her hair, and this dress,” she touches your hips, “must be a nice job, huh?”

“It’s alright,” you shimmy out of her grasp, “I just… needed something more presentable–”

“Something shorter,” your father scoffs, “so when she’s bending to tidy the floors you can see right up.”

“Charles, that’s gross,” Leslie reprimands.

“Truth can be like that,” he snickers, “think some man’s buying her fancy clothes so she can sweep? We both know how she pays for you.”

“No… it’s not…” you shrug and give up, “I’m gonna put my stuff away and start dinner. If you want, you can head off early too.”

“Oh, I don’t mind sticking around,” Leslie says as she once more sits beside your dad, “let me know if you need any help with dinner. Don’t wanna get anything on that nice little dress.”

You nod and hesitate. You can’t tell what she means by that. For as much as she can call out your father, she often speaks with an edge of her own. Just like the cigarettes, she must assume his insults are your fault.

You leave the room and grab the bags. You carry them up the stairs to your room. You shut the door and sit on the end of the bed. You bend and cradle your head, trying to set it straight after the dizzying day.

👠

The bus provides a momentary break from your hostile world. There is no safe place for you. Home is barely that and work is… confusing. Your only escape is to focus on your tasks and get through them. Get through Mr. Laufeyson’s list then come home and the chores left untouched. 

Your look at the time on your phone and black the screen. You get a glimpse of your reflection off the glass as you do. You didn't do too bad with the makeup. It looks okay. You tried not to use too much as you recalled Eliana's instructions.

You shake off your doubts and airy feeling around your legs. You're not use to the skirt or the pretty fabrics. You feel overdressed and out-of-place, but the latter is so new to you.

Through the gate and along the edge of the drive, you hear your name flutter in the air. You stop short as you see Frigga strolling along the hedges, caressing the petals of a rose. She draws away and strides towards you, an ivory skirt paired with a golden brown blouse and nude heels.

“You do start early, don’t you?” She approaches and takes your hand, “come, let’s have tea.”

“Oh, uh, I…” you let her tug you along the walkway towards the front door, “the carpenter is coming today–”

“Ah yes, Loki mentioned you were working on restoring the gazebo. That’s lovely. We used to have tea there, me and… his wife. She was a laugh.”

“Mm,” you hum. Whoever this woman was, she must’ve been very special. You imagine a beautiful woman with silky hair and long legs like Frigga. She must’ve fit right in.

“I suppose if it was meant to be, it would be. I only hope my son can find happiness again,” she squeezes your hand before she lets you go. 

She opens the door and waves you in ahead of her. You slip out of your flats much easier than your usual lace-up sneakers. She steps out of her heels and sighs.

“That’s his problem, you know? He’s lonely but too proud to admit it,” she sidles around you and leads you down to the kitchen. You follow and watch as she goes to the counter and pours from the waiting teapot. “Though I haven’t seen him today. I suppose he’s sleeping in, it is the weekend.”

You tilt your head but don’t comment. For as long as you’ve worked for him, not very long at all, he’s never slept past your arrival. Well, not so far as you know.

“I do love this skirt,” she comes back around the counter and touches the tweed, “wonderful pairing,” she touches the blouse with the petal shaped cutouts around the high-collar, “you’re learning.”

“Um, yeah, all the clothes are so pretty,” you say.

“Please, have your tea. I’m sure you have time before the carpenter,” she urges.

“Right, er, I’ll just take my bag upstairs first,” you say, “out of the way.”

“Sure,” she accepts with a kind smile, “how about I take this out to the patio, we can enjoy the sun?”

“Alright,” you agree and hike up your bag, “thank you.”

You quickly flit off and head upstairs. You weren’t expecting her to be there. You just hadn’t thought of it. You only dreaded facing your unbendable boss and his persistent stare.

You go into the library and tuck your bag under the writing desk. You double check the schedule in your phone; Ronan, 10. You have an hour before he arrives.

Your mind is already on the gazebo as you scurry back into the hall. As you shut the door gently, you hear a groan. You peer down towards the unusual noise and blink at the slightly ajar door. The main bedroom. Mr. Laufeyson’s. It rises again before a drawn out exhale, his timbre rumbling low.

You quickly set back to your path and flee downstairs. Maybe he’s talking in his sleep, or more likely, stretching out a few kinks. Your curiosity quickly dissipates as you pass through the dining room and out into the patio.

Frigga sits with large pointed sunglasses over her eyes. She tilts her face up to the sunlight as you sit before the other cup of tea. You pull it close and look out at the yard. A streak of green catches your gaze.

You watch the hummingbird hover over fuchsia petals. You stare dreamily, lulled by the peace of the moment as Frigga merely sips and basks. This isn’t so bad. The bird zips between flowers before disappearing behind a tree. In his stead, the skittish chipmunk scrambles along the railing of the patio. You smile at his fluffy tail.

“I’ll be off tomorrow,” Frigga states, “my husband will be expecting me. Oh, but I’ll miss you, darling.”

“Is it very far?” You wonder.

“Four or five hours,” she answers, “not very far but enough. It’s so lovely up where we are. I wish you could see. Perhaps one day. When things are better.”

Before you can answer, there’s a subtle click behind you.

“Morning,” Mr. Laufeyson’s voice is unleashed onto the scene as the patio door swings inward, “mother,” he pauses before he enunciates your name, “beautiful day out.”

Your shoulders stiffen and nearly touch your ears as you sit straight. He pulls out the chair at your other elbow and sets down another teacup with a clink. He sits and smooths back his dark hair, tucking the spiralled ends behind his ears.

“Late morning,” his mother remarks, “any tea left?”

“Some, shall I–”

He puts his hands flat, moving to stand but she shoos him as she’s quicker to rise, “I’ll get it myself. And you darling,” she dips her chin in your direction, “more?”

“Oh, no thanks, I’m still… working on mine. Thank you, Frigga,” you say, mindful of each syllable.

She leaves and the door clicks shut behind her. You stare at the brim of your cup, turning it slowly between your hands as Laufeyson raises his own to his lips. He drinks carefully before putting it down again.

He’s quiet. He shifts and plants an elbow on the table. He turns his attention to the yard and watches. You dare to look up as well, the chipmunk poking his head out from the bush where he hides. He ran away at Mr. Laufeyson’s arrival.

“Cute little fellow,” he remarks as he faces you again. You quickly lower your eyes.

“Uh, yeah…”

“Mmm,” he drones and taps his fingers on the porcelain teacup, “you… that’s a nice shirt.”

“Thanks,” you lift your cup and drain most of it, gulping painfully as you put it back down, “I should go start. Ronan will be here shortly–”

“The carpenter?”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson, I have him penned in–” You explain.

“And? He is a carpenter, he knows what he’s doing. I doubt he needs you watching over his shoulder.”

“I know, uh, but I should be there to let him in,” you slide your cup off the table.

“You’re not even done your tea.”

“I’ll finish on my way in–”

“You’re avoiding me,” he accused and you wince.

“What?”

“You’re running away? Why?” He challenges.

“I’m not, I– I have work to do.”

“Work I give you. I’m your boss, you may sit and finish. I’ll permit it.”

You falter and set the cup on the table. You lower yourself back to the seat and fold your hands. You look at your lap and push your shoulders back. He is back to his haughty demands, you find that part of him easier to handle.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Laufeyson, I wasn't running away.”

He scoffs thinly and his nostrils flare as he stares off at the hedges that edge the patio, “I wonder why you can be so quick to flee me when you sat and let my brother feel you up.”

“Huh?” You blanch, stuck by the accusation. “Mr. Laufeyson, I–”

“I know him well and I’m not as blind as my mother. I saw it. You didn’t say a word. You just let him do it,” he clucks, “why?”

Your eyes round and you bat your lashes. You nearly choke, the acidic flavour of the tea drying on your tongue. Was it that bad? You tried not to think about it, to let it affect you, even as the memories flashed in your head, you just tried not to feel anything about it.

“I didn’t… well… he’s your brother, Mr. Laufeyson, I didn’t want to assume… to offend–” you stammer.

“So you let him do what he wants?” He snarlss as he turns his sights on you, a brow arch tritely. “You do not work for him, you work for me.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do,” you sputter, confused by his anger. “I tried to…”

Your voice trails off. No, you didn’t try. You were too afraid too. He’s right, you let Thor keep touching you and you didn’t say anything, you didn’t move, you just froze up.

“It makes me wonder,” he cups his chin, leaning on his elbow, “how far would you let him get, hm?”

“Mr. Laufeyson,” you whimper, “I’m sorry–”

“Did you like how he touched you?”

“N-no, Mr. Laufeyson, no, of course not,” you plead.

“You do not want him to touch you?” He prompts.

“No, I… didn’t know how to say—”

“Shhh,” he hushes you, lifting his chin from his hand and pressing his finger to his lips. He pulls his hand away to point at you, “I’ve a better question…” He reaches towards you and you flinch. You quiver as he traces the cutout along the top of your blouse, “how far would you let me go?”

You squirm as he hooks his finger inside the teardrop window in the fabric. His fingertip brushes you as he gives a slight tug, looming closer as he draws you towards him. He smirks as you stare dumbfounded. What is he doing?

“My brother will not touch you again,” his voice is low and rocky, “I will make sure of it.” He tickles you slightly and rescinds his hand, “and you will make sure to remember who you belong to.”

He sits back and hooks his fingers in the handle of the porcelain mug. As if on cue, the french doors open behind you and Frigga trills as she emerges, “oh, just enough tea,” she announces, “I added a dash of honey this time.”

She places the cup by her empty chair but does not sit. She twirls and paces around the patio, going to the flower boxes along the rail. She leans in to examine them.

“Perhaps the carpenter could have a look here, it’s crooked,” she declares. “And I dare say the guest room has a loose floorboard right near the bed.”

“Mm, perhaps, mother,” Laufeyson drawls as he once more raises his cup, his eyes stuck on you, “my house manager will be sure to ask, won’t she?”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you wisp out through your constricted throat, barely registering his command. 

You can only hear his previous words echoing, over and over; remember who you belong to. Belong to… No, you only work for him.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #dirty work #au #maid au #avengers #mcu #marvel #thor

[disturbedbeautywrites]

Let’s give him hell - Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Seresin! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse, cursing, fighting. Protective older brother Jake and bestie Bradley

Part 2 is posted here

“Please don’t be awake.” You repeated the words to yourself as you walked up the steps to your house, praying to a higher power that Jake wasn’t still awake. He had been home for leave and was staying in your guest room along with a couple of his navy buddies. You knew he didn’t want to stay with your parents because he wasn’t your dads biggest fan, so you said he could stay with you. But now, as you realized the situation you were in, you were regretting it. You really didn’t want your older brother to see the poorly covered bruises because you knew he would lose his shit. You were the youngest of the Seresin siblings and the one who was the closest to the only boy of the bunch, him being a couple years your senior.

The bruises that were slowly starting to turn purple now were the doing of the man who was supposed to always protect you. Jason, your boyfriend had gotten a little over zealous tonight and had put his hands on you. You tried to cover it with makeup and a baseball cap, but you knew you weren’t fooling anyone.

You kept your head down as you slid in the front door, trying to shut the door quietly. You heard your brothers voice and the voice of others; telling you that there was more than one naval aviator you had to avoid. You listened to the voices; recognizing Rooster and Jake laughing about who knows what. You slowly pushed the door shut and swore under your breath as the door squeaked loud enough for the conversation to stop.

“You’re home late.” You heard Jake call out, his head peaking out from behind the door frame in the kitchen. You nodded and lowered your head even more, clicking your tongue as you sat your keys down and sighed. You felt like you were a teenager again, getting caught by him when you were out past curfew. “Yeah, I fell asleep at Jason’s.” The words were a bold faced lie as you scouted out your escape up the stairs and to your room “I hope you haven’t tried to burn my house down yet.” You tried to keep a conversation flowing as you put away your shoes and your coat, hearing Rooster laugh at your comment.

Your heart swelled in your chest at the sound of your best friends laughter, wishing you could go say hi. But knowing better than that. “What do you think?” Jake’s voice made you roll your eyes as you affirmed his smart ass words, hearing a chair scrape along the kitchen floor. “Wow, she hasn’t even come to say hi to me. We both come into town for the first time in a year and she’s avoiding us..” You heard Rooster’s teasing voice and you feel your heart start to race.

“I’m going to bed! I’ll see you guys tomorrow! Night!” And with that you took off sprinting up the stairs, slamming your door behind you. You turned the lock on the door, or so you thought as you walk into your room and sink down into your bed. You slid the hat off your head and let yourself take in the sight of yourself, a few tears slipping down your cheeks as you shake your head; recalling the argument in your head.

You had called him out on not being faithful to you, having found evidence of him cheating in the form of a girl texting him while you were over. It had made you extremely upset, telling him you were done. At the words, he lost his temper. He took his anger out on you and you were now wearing the consequences.

“Hey, Jake asked me to come check-“ You heard a knock on your door as Bradley pushed it open, showing a perfect example of the literal open policy the two of you had in your friendship. He stopped dead in his tracks as he caught sight of you in the mirror, his eyes widening. “He didn’t.” His tone turned harsh as he walked in and sat in front of you, carefully taking your face in his hand. “Are you okay?” His voice softened as he carefully ran his fingers down your skin, his hazel eyes meeting yours.

You gave him the best fake smile you could muster, nodding as you put your hand over his. “I’m okay, Roo. I promise.” You wiped away a couple of tears as you looked up at him and swallowed thickly. “Please don’t tell Jake..” You knew exactly what your brother was capable of and you were terrified for it to be unleashed. Growing up, he was the kind to square up against your dad and he did it with a cocky smile on his lips.

Your dad laid his hands on your mom one time and never made the mistake again after Jake punched him for it. Sure, the blonde aviator got a nasty shiner and a bloody lip, but he looked your dad dead in the eye as he threatened with the cops. “Call them. I’ll tell them to read me my rights. You don’t fucking touch my mother like that.” His words were dripping with venom as he spit his blood into the grass, clenching his fists. “As far as I’m concerned, the law was mine to break tonight and I would gladly fucking do it again.” The fight was over then and there and never happened again.

“You know I have to tell him. He fucking hurt you.” Bradley was trying to keep his cool for your sake but you just looked up at him, shaking your head. “Then I guess I should just give you more ammo if we’re going to rile my brother up.” You pushed yourself up off the bed and out of Roosters grip, walking over to your dresser. You slid out of the shirt you were wearing, slipping on one of Roosters old shirts that he gave you. “He cheated on me too.” You met his eyes through your mirror, feeling a small sense of fear creep into your spine as you saw anger flash through his eyes.

Rooster shook his head as he watched you crawl into bed, biting the inside of his lip. He walked over and sat on the edge of your bed, feeling like you could use the sense of safety. He stayed there until he heard your soft snores, quietly letting himself out of your room.

He walked downstairs to meet the curious eyes of the other aviators, Jake opening his mouth to spout off a smart aleck remark. However, Bradley raised his hand to stop him, a dead serious look on his face. “We have an ass to go kick. He laid his hands on her.” The words were enough for Jake to stand straight up, immediately going to grab his truck keys. “Do you know where he lives?” One of the other boys spoke up, setting his beer down on the table as they all stood up from their chairs. “Unfortunately for him, I do. He’s going to pay.” Jake’s words were cold enough to chill someone to the bone as he motioned for everyone to follow him, ready to go take matters into his own hands.

Taglist: @atarmychick007 @ginger-gabsq @fandomxpreferences

#jake seresin au #top gun maverick imagines #Jake seresin imagines #Bradley Bradshaw imagines #jake seresin one shot #Bradley Bradshaw one shot #top gun maverick x you #Bradley Bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #Jake hangman seresin imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #Jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick x reader #rooster imagines #hangman imagines #bradley bradshaw angst #Jake seresin angst

[thelightsandtheroses]

six. even the iron still fears the rot

Your Hand In Mine | Joel Miller x female reader.

Chapter summary: the past comes back to haunt you leading to a drastic decision. Chapter warnings: angst, discussions and flashbacks to descriptions of cults, religion and cult behaviour, past emotional abuse, love bombing and manipulation, the cult leader is a dangerous person, one instance of physical violence, guilt, PTSD , there is the very briefest allusion to homophobia (not direct), flashbacks, discussions of death and canon typical violence, passing mention of being an orphan, breakups, reference to pregnancy (reader is a single mother).  Reader has a backstory but no physical descriptors. Word Count: 4.4k Notes -This is a big chapter, beginning a plot I have had planned for a long time and that I was so nervous about. I must thank the lovely @joelsgreys encouraged and supported me to write this idea from the start. The chapter title is from Ptolemaea by Ethel Cain (who can you believe I only discovered last week?!) Also I changed the image aesthetic a bit as I've loved seeing some other fics with this sort of three pic moodboard recently.

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“We need to talk about the Junction.”

In seven words, Beau and Sean have swept away every sense of security, of hope, of foolish optimism from you.

None of you speak as you unlock the library with shaking, sweaty hands. It takes three attempts to put the key in the lock, you can hear a strange sound, almost like an injured animal in the distance. The three of you walk in.

You lean against the wall, shutting your eyes as you try and centre yourself before you can look at your best friends’ faces.

“What’s happened?” you ask finally. "Why are you bringing up the past?"

Now is not then, you tell yourself. You are not that person anymore - you are a mother, you are stronger, more resilient. You repaired your cracks with gold. You are whole, you are different, you are you.

The Junction has no idea what they’re facing. If they’re here. If this is happening.

Sean reaches into his pocket and produces a small piece of paper. There’s a design on it, simple but familiar.

“Tommy and Joel found this less than five miles away on patrol. It was carved onto a tree.”

“Carved?”

“Yeah, so they took a sketch of it. They were asking around the Tipsy Bison about it, wondered if had seen the symbol before - knew it wasn’t Fireflies or FEDRA, guess it worried them. They showed it to me,” Beau says flatly. “I wondered if it was them, so I went straight to Sean. He said - he said it was, or he thinks it is. We need you to confirm it though.”

“It’s them, isn’t it?” Sean asks, his voice soft and eyes desperate for you to say no, to stop this nightmare in its tracks.

You can’t say it. You can only nod, meeting your best friend’s heartbroken eyes reluctantly.

“Scouting symbol,” you say quietly. ‘He designed it as a code but he designed a lot of things like that, I didn’t expect much  would come of it at the time. I guess -” You pause. “If they’re nearby then it sounds they lost the settlement and have been moving around. I can’t remember exactly what the symbol was meant to mean, but it was definitely for scouting, or to mark - to mark something.”

You thought you would have more time. Time to build something with Joel, to watch Gabriel become the man you know he will be. You had started to hope, to dream.

Dreaming has always been dangerous.

You’ve been on borrowed time for seventeen years.

You expected to panic, to feel more anxious or upset. You had thought you’d sob, fall apart on the floor like you have before, burn with the agony of it all. There’s ice running through you instead and a cool detachment. You don’t recognise your voice, don’t recognise your body. You’re gone, an observer watching a stranger so far away from reality.

“How soon can we get ammo, get supplies?” you ask.

“You can’t think we’re going to outrun this, sweetheart. Not when they’re less than five miles away,” Beau says, shaking his head.

“We’re fucked,” Sean whispers, “less than five miles this morning, they could be - shit. We can’t even run, can we? We’re fucked.” He looks down at his hands, rakes his hands over his hair.

Your past has finally come back to haunt you.

You should have just told Gabriel the truth about his father.  You should have told him where you took him away from.

You should have told him a lot of things.

2004

“We are at a moment right now where the only thing we can do is change. The old ways failed us; we let our hate, our differences, our selfishness dictate our lives and we have all paid a price for this. In our loss, in their names, we stand at a junction and we have a choice right now. Will you listen to me? Will we move forward together and carve a new path, take the route to peace and away from the horrors we have seen?”

The world’s changed a lot in the last six months. Pandemics, death, a whole new dictionary where abbreviations like FEDRA, QZs mean something now and some many words have become redundant. There’s been a lot of death. Survival, that feels like the best outcome right now, living feels like something impossible.

They’ll find a cure soon. The smartest people left in the world are working on it.

They’ll find a cure soon.  This can’t go on like this forever.

They’ll find a cure soon. There’s no other option.

One day in a year or two, you’ll look back on this with Sean and giggle. Do you remember the winter of 2003? Do you remember when we had to live in a QZ and when mushrooms became sinister for a short time? It’ll be something to tell your grandchildren, huddled around a fire and after a long and normal life. You’ll go back to cinemas and dinner at restaurants, to finally getting broadband installed, to a future. There will be scars, of course, but society will move on before you’ve even recognised those.

Humanity will survive, it will endure this. You have to believe that.

There are rumours though - rumours of life in and outside the QZ being lawless, of the loss of society, that humanity isn’t thriving right now.

You had different plans for this year. You didn’t expect to be in a small one bedroomed apartment with Sean. You didn’t expect to be an orphan - or an assumed one at least. Maybe they’re still alive. You hope they are, hope their flight made it to their location, that Cordyceps isn’t so bad over there. You wonder what their lives are like - a two-week vacation that’s turned into months. You’ll laugh about this with them one day.

You live in denial because it’s easier. Because one day this will be all a bad memory. You’ll be back on the path towards the life and career you were working towards, and the months spent picking up shifts in a laundromat and community kitchen to live in a run-down building will soon be a distant memory.

You meet him on a Tuesday. You’re at the laundromat and reading a battered library book, enjoying this rare moment when you’re alone,  when he walks in.

There’s something about him that immediately commands your attention. He’s tall, muscular and carries himself with confidence.

“Hi,” he says, noticing you watching him.  “Haven’t seen you before.”

You nod, placing your book down quietly. “There’s only one dryer working, I’m afraid.” You’re not sure if there’ll ever be more than one dryer working at this point - there’s a shortage of parts and tumble dryers are hardly a priority right now. The one working dryer will just become a Frankenstein of other machine parts, of hope and duct tape until it finally dies. Maybe there will be a cure by then though.

“That’s no worry. I’m Ethan,” the man replies with a faint smile.

You say your name in response and he repeats it like he’s trying to store it in his memory. You feel exposed, perceived in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

You suspect though. You suspect that somehow an axis has marginally tilted, a change has occurred.

You don’t believe in love at first sight. Life isn’t like a movie after all, or if it is, then right now it’s only a horror film. You don’t believe that you can just fall someone instantly. Or you didn’t.

It’s magnetic, his energy, his charisma. You love how his voice sounds, the way his hair falls slightly into piercing eyes. He speaks with care, looks at you like he really cares what you think to his words. He reminds you of the men you’d fantasise about meeting while in college. You thought you’d just wander into a coffee shop on your way to your next seminar and there he’d be.

Even here in a dingy and dirty laundromat, you feel those butterflies.

You’re sure you’ve never met anyone like him before and you have a sense that you will never meet anyone else like him.

You have no idea how right you are.

“Is it a church thing? Really?” Sean asks, taking a gulp of water before leaning against the kitchen sink. “I thought you said after your parents -”

“I don’t think it’s really religious,” you say, “Ethan told me it was more about a sense of self than anything theistic. It’s like a support group from what he said.”

“Thought you hated therapy.”

“Yeah, well, then the world ended.”

“Touché. Can’t you go alone?”

“I could, but I don’t want to,” you say, a teasing smile as you meet your best friend’s eyes.  “I want you to meet Ethan. Tell me what you think.”

You need Sean to meet Ethan because it feels like Ethan could be important. You want Sean to like him, to approve of him. You need to him to.

“I don’t know, hon, it sounds - I don’t know what it’s about.”

“Sean, it’s just a workshop, what harm could it possibly do?”

Sean cocks an eyebrow and sighs. “Fine, we’ll check it out. How bad can it be?”

Famous last words.

“The Junction is here. Humanity has failed in our mission, but it isn’t all lost. We can start afresh, become something better. Every one of us in this room has hope, has what is needed to rebuild our world to save us. The threats of cordyceps, of violence cannot stand in our way …  we must not let these evil forces win.”

It starts so slowly. You become friends as he frequents the launderette more and more. You get to know each other..

You’re not what sure to expect from his workshops but his words are compelling. He makes sense. What he says is rational - until it strays into something else, but it’s still got that root of logic. He’s just stressed, you reason, more people are talking about the workshops.

You fall for him.

He brings you a bunch of roses to the laundrette. Roses.

You haven’t seen roses since the outbreak, you’re not sure anyone has ever bought you flowers like this. You have no idea how he’s got them, but he’s got them for you.

He’s so smart, so compassionate and it’s more than that, he really listens to you. Falling in love with Ethan is the easiest thing in the world.  You hadn’t spent much time dating before the outbreak, had been too afraid in the immediate aftermath. You think Ethan might be the first man you’ve ever fallen in love with.

He starts to invite to sit with him at his workshops, places an arm around you when you speak in sessions. You swell with pride because out of everyone, he’s chosen you.

So you drag Sean to more workshops, you bring friends from your apartment building. You want more people to hear Ethan because he’s changed your life. What else could he do for people?

Time passes. Ethan’s language starts to change again. It’s starting to shift from collective processing of the trauma, the unceasing horror of the last year to something different. It’s less about you all and more about Ethan, about his visions and him. Ethan knows the way through the Junction.

He’ll lead you all through.

It’s your fault really, what happens next. You set everything in motion. You’re almost mugged on the way home from the launderette one night. His next workshop talks about the pain of this post-cordyceps world, of the way FEDRA encourages lawlessness to steer us from the right path, towards evil and ruin.

He says that the QZ is actively fighting against you all need to do. It is fighting for the wrong turn at the next junction. That can’t happen. You can’t raise a family here, make a life, not when society continues to fall apart in front of you. You’re scared walking to your apartment at night now, so you think he must be right. There’s the possibility of something better with him.

So when Ethan says maybe it’s time to leave the QZ, you think he might be right. Of course you’d go with him, where else could you go? You beg Sean to come with you, you’re terrified he’ll die when the QZ falls otherwise.

That’s another mistake.

2005

“The thing is, it’s not about cordyceps. Not really. That was only the vehicle to lead us here, to show me the way forward. We must build afresh here. I have been spoken to and I know this - this community is the only way humanity survives. I will lead us to ensure that humanity is not lost. We had to leave the QZ because the agents of chaos and evil were there, they knew what we needed to do, they knew my mission. We have a chance here. We have a chance here to grow and survive and thrive. This is my mission, our collective goal. The Junction will succeed where FEDRA failed, where the old ways. I received a message; we’re heeding it by being here. The hard work is being done now. The Junction is the future.”

The Junction move to what was once a gated community many miles outside of the QZ. It’s self-sufficient to a point, with high walls, generators, and access to facilities. In some ways,  it’s almost like a miniature QZ- it’s better though.

 A former resident suggested the location to Ethan and he said he knew right there and then it was where you all need to be. He said it was a sign; that he was told everyone needed to be there.

It’s going to be idyllic. That’s what he’s promised. It’s what you believe.

You love him.

You marry Ethan on a summer’s day to the entire Junction as witnesses. You are so in love, you don’t see the looming clouds, the storm ahead. It’s a whirlwind romance, a sign of hope in this terrifying world. Your relationship, he tells you, is a symbol for all of his followers, it’s the lynchpin to keep your community together.

You read through his notes, they’re less like inspirational words and more like sermons now, but he says that’s fine. He says he’s spoken to the Divine . It’s his duty, his destiny. It’s yours to help him too.

You believe he is a good man. It’s your responsibility to help him lead everyone through this mess.

You love him.

When you’re in love you can excuse things though. Those subtle language shifts: we to I, debates on decisions to instructions, the focus on how you represent him as opposed to how you feel, what you want.

The pressure starts to constrict around your neck just a little. It’s all becoming too much, you’re not Ethan, you don’t know how to be a leader, or a leader’s wife.

You take every note he offers in the spirit of self-improvement , tweak every behaviour to get things right. Ethan needs this from you.

The Junction needs this from you.

You need to do better.

You love him.

And if you notice the way Sean’s brow furrows every time you speak or see him now, the way he shakes his head sometimes, or the way he opens his mouth but doesn’t seem able to say the words he wants to,  you put it aside. He’s struggling to adjust - that’s all.

It has to work here.  If it doesn’t, you know you will die outside the Junction, that the QZs will already be falling. Ethan tells you he’s heard on the radio numerous have already fallen. You can’t find the same messages on the radio when you try alone though. You believe him though.

You’re the last stand for humanity.

This is the only way.

Ethan is your only option.

You are so in love with him.

Time passes. There’s a bad harvest, the seeds don’t take. Ethan says, it’s a sign the group’s faith is false, that they are somehow poisoning the group. Ethan becomes obsessed with the fact he needs to root the traitor out.

You’re not allowed to proof-read his speeches anymore, not involved in his congregation. He won’t discuss his beliefs, his visions with you.

You are in love with him though.

His eyes on you feel searching, scathing, and sinister.

You start to feel scared; a twisting sense of sickness and fear that perhaps this, this isn’t going to be okay. This isn’t just an intentional community, is it?

You have doubts about Ethan too, about the glint in his eyes, about the way he sometimes talks about Sean or other congregants, about you. 

He doesn’t like you leaving the house these days because you keep saying the wrong things, keep unintentionally undermining his views. You stop answering the door to Sean, you listen to old radio broadcasts and wish you could be a better wife. A better believer.

After one sermon, he breaks the radio by throwing it against the living room wall. Your world becomes so much smaller again.

The doubts are getting louder now. Maybe the Junction is … no, that word belongs in movies and tv shows, in a time that’s long since passed. However, maybe it’s not what you thought. Maybe Ethan’s not what you thought.

It’s just … you really do love him, right?

“Is it you?” Ethan asks, eyes wild and desperate. You’re not sure what’s happened; one second you’re in your kitchen, sitting at the table and talking to him and now you can feel the cold wall against your back, Ethan’s hot breath so close to you, the feel of his hand on your hair. “Are you the reason why? Are you the reason why this is falling apart? You don’t believe, do you? It’s you, it’s you. You’re a curse, you’re a goddamned curse.” “Of course I believe, of course I do.” “You’re lying.” He’s right about that. Ethan is not who you thought. The Junction is dangerous. You need to leave. You know this now. You don’t want to die here.  You don’t want Sean to die here either; you bought him into this mess, the two of you need to leave this place soon.  Alive.

Jackson, WY, 2024

There isn’t much of a choice. You need suppliers, weapons, a plan before you can even think about leaving Jackson.

Beau’s right - this isn’t something you can outrun. It isn’t as simple as it used to be. Gabriel’s too old to be told he’s going on an adventure and cheerfully tag along without question - it was hard enough getting him to leave Kansas.

There’s Joel too, Ellie … you don’t know what to tell them.

You know that Jackson isn’t safe with the looming threat of the Junction. You’ve built a life here; a home and you want to protect that.

Besides they could already be here, you think, mentally running through every trader or newcomer you remember seeing in recent weeks.

“Is everything okay?” Gabriel asks softly, sitting next to you on the faded couch. “Beau and Sean seem … tense.”

“They’re fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

Gabriel frowns, looks away.

You could tell him. He’s sixteen. You could tell him the truth. He wants the truth.

You can barely live with it though; barely live with your own part in it all. You proofread his sermons. You want to give him a father that’s safe, a memory of a good man. Not a deranged, dangerous cult leader.

The air is thick with smoke. You can hear the flames consuming the wooden building, can hear people yelling in the distance. Your distraction failed. There’s a gun in your hands, aiming at him. You can’t stop shaking. “Just - just let us leave,” you say desperately. “You’re my wife.” “Ethan -” “You’re pregnant, you think I didn’t know?” Your panic heightens. This is the reason you’ve been desperate to escape with Sean, to find somewhere else ... you didn’t think he knew. “I won’t let you go like this. I won’t let you take a child from me.  My child. They’re going to - when he’s born, everything will be okay again.” No. Ethan cannot be in your child’s life. You cannot raise a child in a cult. You raise your hands once more and pull the trigger.

“You know I love you, right?” you ask your son.

“Mum,” he groans, sounding out every syllable - the epitome of a teenager, ”Of course I know that.”

“Good, I’d do anything for you, kid.”

 Love.

It’s a strange word; a weapon, a revelation, a lullaby. You grew up with messages about soulmates, about princesses finding their Prince Charming and happy-ever-afters. The world changed; those views were exposed for their naïveté more than ever. It became a dream. Something for other people, not you. Then you met Ethan and love became real, tangible. Dangerous.

You didn’t want that type of love again. Relationships were casual, you kept detached, held something back.

Then Joel stole your goddamn bench and ruined everything.

You feel an ache in your stomach as you watch him working on the porch of an empty house. The mailbox says it belonged to the Bensons, you wonder where they are, what became of them, who will move to this house one day.

“How is it?” you call.

Joel looks up and over at you, a smile widening.

You want to drink in every detail of Joel, commit every freckle, the feel of his fingers on your skin, the sound of his voice as he talks to you, the way he looks when he wakes up … every single part of him.

“Hi,” he says lowly, wincing slightly as he stands up. “It’s in pretty good shape actually - just the porch here needs some work.”

“Wow,” you say, aimlessly swinging your hands as you move closer to him.

“How’s the library been?”

“I wasn’t there today,” you say, honestly, “I had to help Sean.” Not that either of you achieved much. You were in the greenhouses and spent most of your day planning, panicking, and pacifying your anxieties.

There were no immediate solutions to the situation you’d found yourselves in so none of you slept much last night as the worry permeated your mind. Except for Gabriel, perhaps - your beautiful son, the reason you needed a better plan.

Well, there are other reasons too.

Joel touches your shoulder gently. “You okay, sweetheart? You look -”

“Don’t, don’t you finish that sentence, darling,” you say in your breeziest voice.

Joel frowns slightly, furrows his brow.

“How’s Ellie?” you ask, desperate to get this conversation back on track.

“She’s good. Gabriel?”

“I think he has a girlfriend,” you admit, giving yourself just a moment of normality. “Or boyfriend. I think he’s dating, regardless.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh, he’s got the signs.” It pulls at your heart; your son won’t want to leave Jackson. He’s building a life here. A decent one.

You were starting to do the same.

“I am not looking forward to that with Ellie,” Joel admits.

You raise an eyebrow. “Really? You’re worried?”

“Who doesn’t worry?”

“Touché.”

“So, what’d I owe the pleasure of this visit to?” he asks, honey sweet as he slips his hands around your waste, leans close to you, his lips on the edge of your collarbone. “not that it isn’t a highlight of my day.”

“Just wanted to say hello.” You feel the heat of his breath as he chuckles, kissing you briefly.

He smells like soap and the outdoors. There’s a lingering hint of mint, of firewood too.

“That works for me.”

He guides you against the wall and as he works his way up your neck, to your jaw, mumbling sweet nothings against your skin, you wish it could be different.

You want to stay here in this moment, or at least you want to stay here with Joel right now.

They could already be on their way.

“Joel -”I love you.

The words hang in the air, unspoken but clear. He must know, surely?

“Yeah?” he asks, looking at you carefully.

“I don’t think this is working anymore.”

You know you shouldn’t look at him, but you owe him this at least.

His face crumples; confusion, shock, uncertainty. You watch how he works through every moment before shaping his expression into something blank, a look you haven’t seen him wear before.

“Why?” he asks gruffly.

“I just think we need to pause things.”

“Is it because of what happened with Ellie?”

“No, no, not at all,” you say in a panic, remembering the stern conversation you’d had after Ellie’s suspicious accident.

Joel is in the kitchen with his arms folded, flannel rolled up to his elbows and his  scarred, tanned skin exposed. “Total honesty […] that goes both ways, sweetheart.”

Joel was right and he deserves honesty, he deserves someone who can tell him their truths, but you can’t. Not yet.

Not when Gabriel doesn’t know, not when you fear the inevitable judgment on Joel’s face. You helped him edit his sermons, you married him, you didn’t see it until it was too late. Ignorance doesn’t excuse complicity to you though.

You need to protect Ellie too, protect Joel, protect Jackson as well as your family. The Junction would be so dangerous to them - they’re an invasive species, they see something habitable and they would take it over, spread the rot from inside. They might already be doing that.

You can’t be with Joel right now. You just can’t.

A thousand words sit at your lips; you will yourself to give him some sort of explanation, some sort of better parting. When you’re dead, he’ll remember this. maybe it’s better this way. You ruin yourself to him now so he doesn’t have to mourn you, so you’re not another loss or excuse to shut his heart away. You are committing a kindness to him and incomparable damage to yourself because you do love him. You do, you love him in a way that terrifies and soothes you all at once. You feel like it’s been years and decades but maybe Joel is the right person for you at last.

You will not damn him to mourn another lost love though.

This is a kindness.

“I’m sorry,” you say flatly and you step off the porch and away from him, unable to look back in case he disappears.

It’s for him, it’s for him, you’re doing this for him, for Ellie, for Gabriel, for Sean and Beau. This pain is your penance.

Tag List

YHIM: @orcasoul@pedropascalsbbg @yoursoulsunbreakable@iamskyereads@genetics4life@everyth1ngfan@frickatives@perennialdoll247@joelsgreys@pedrobaby@missladym1981@noisynightmarepoetry@picketniffler @titlee78

Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed@pedrostories@hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk @pastelnap

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #your hand in mine fic #fic: your hand in mine

[xddaengx]

Little Baby Bear 2.0 ⎜pt 1

✧ Pairings: Jungkook x Reader ⎜ft Taehyung

✧ Genre:  Romance ⎜Hybrid AU ⎜Angst ⎜

✧ Warnings: Hints at Hybrid abuse ⎜ Sad Kook ⎜ Trauma ⎜ Cheating ⎜ Angry kook ⎜Abused Taehyung ⎜ Happy Ending ⎜There will be a part 2...sorry ⎜

✧ Word Count: 5.4k

✧ Summary: You never thought you would see your ex again... especially not at your front door with his hybrid.

✧ Author’s Note: This is the re-written version of Little Baby Bear. I hope people enjoy but please not there will be a part 2. It's different from the original but hopefully people still enjoy it. (UNEDITED)

BUY ME A COFFEE - Any donations help!

“It’s five in the fucking morning. Who the hell is knocking on my door?” You huff, sliding out of the bed, pulling on your large coat, shuffling your way to the front door. You hear the rumble of the car before you even get a chance to swing the door open. One last loud knock before you turn the locks pulling the door open, the sight taking you by surprise. 

“Jungkook?” You question looking at the tall man, down at his two suitcases and then back to the man. He head turned downwards, the car in your driveway revving to life as it speeds backwards towards the main road. You sigh quickly, leaning down to grab the handle of one of the suitcases pulling it inside. 

You make it down the hallway before turning back around to check that he was following you. 

He wasn’t. 

“What’re you doing? Are you not cold?” You sigh, stopping in your tracks turning back towards the front door. Jungkook’s head is still turned towards the floor, his hand gripping the suitcase tightly in his hand. 

“I need to be invited.” He says quietly, his mouth in a tight line the dimple in his cheek standing out. 

“Kook, what are you going on about? Come inside before all the hot air escapes.” You say pushing the hair away from your face as you turn back, pulling his suitcase to the guest room. You hear the front door close and the rolling of suitcase wheels on the hardwood floor come up behind you. 

“You can stay in here, I’ve never used the bed so let me know if it’s uncomfortable and I’ll buy a mattress pad. It should be nice and warm though, there’s even an electric blanket on the bottom.” You say as you pull his suitcase next to the bed, turning to face him. Your eyes meet for a second before his head shoots back towards the floor. 

“Kook, I know that we didn’t end on great terms and that you were upset when I left, but if what I am assuming is happening, we are going to have to learn to face each other.” You mumble, your hands clasped in front of you, watching him move slowly, pulling his suitcase behind him. 

“Did he force you to come here? Or was this your choice?” You ask quietly, taking two steps forwards, reaching out for him slowly, your hand recoiling as he flinches away from you, your eyes scanning over him in shock. 

“I just didn’t want to go to a poun… shelter.” His voice comes out quietly, his eyes still focused on his shoes, the ears on the top of his head flicking back and forth taking in every noise he hears. 

You nod slowly, taking a step backwards, hoping to make him a little more comfortable. “Well, glad to know I’m better than a hybrid shelter.” You chuckle, relaxing a little as the corners of his mouth turn upwards. 

“Look, I’m going to go to bed, I’ll see you in a few hours, make yourself at home, there is a bathroom just down the hall, and my room is upstairs first door to the left, come grab me if you need anything.” You say quietly, patting him lightly on the arm as you walk past, glad you’re not getting a similar reaction to before. 

“We can’t make eye contact. It’s disrespectful.” You hear the soft words as you leave the room, stopping to wait for more information. “The mistress says we should be well trained like the animals we are. Eye contact is a sign of disrespect and aggression so it’s forbidden.” He continues, and your mouth falls open a little. 

You were well aware of who this mistress is. 

“That’s why I can’t look at you. I don’t want to be disrespectful.” He adds his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Jungkook, as far as I’m concerned you’re a grown man, you can do whatever you like. Whatever rules this mistress pushed on you are not continuing here. If it makes you more comfortable to refrain from eye contact that’s fine, but you don’t have to follow those rules anymore.” You say quickly, watching him nod slightly, his eyes firmly stuck to the ground. 

“I’ll see you in a few hours, get some rest.” You sigh, you hand tight beside you as you rush into your bedroom, pulling your phone out from under the covers. 

‘Call me at 9am.’ The text is clear, and blunt, and you shove your phone back under your pillow before tucking yourself back into the warm covers. 

“What a prick.” 

+

+

Jungkook is asleep in a tight ball when you walk past his bedroom - the door wide open his body tucked under the large blanket. You let out a small sigh, slowly closing his door as you pull the phone from your dressing gown pocket, waiting patiently for the phone call you’ve been expecting. 

When the phone finally rings, a cup of peppermint tea in hand, you slip outside answering the call and pressing the phone to your ear. 

“Hoseok.” You say, the man on the other line spitting out words quickly. 

“I swear it wasn’t planned, it was so last minute and you were the only person I could think of. He trusts you and you know how to look after him, you were the only option.”

“Hoseok, why on earth did you dump him here? And how did you get my address?” You interrupt, taking a long sip of your tea as you wait for him to answer. 

“An old friend.” He says slowly, hesitating to continue. “Yoongi gave it to me, he was just trying to help me find a safe place for Jungkook, it was actually his idea to bring him to you.” 

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” 

“I can’t explain now, but maybe we can meet up in a week or two and I’ll tell you everything - please just look after him, he needs someone like you in his life” Hoseok adds, spitting a quick goodbye, before hanging up on you, leaving you in the dust once again. 

“What a goddamn, cock sucking ass— Hey Kook, you’re awake.” 

“It’s alright you can say it, he’s a dick for bringing me here without warning you first.” Jungkook says quickly, standing awkwardly by the back door, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Jungkook, come take a seat for a minute, we need to have a chat.” Jungkook abides quickly, pulling out the chair across from you sitting lightly on the edge of the wooden seat. 

“Why did he bring you here? Do you know what is going on, cause so far I’ve gotten nothing.” 

“The mistress.” Jungkook says slowly, his head rising, his eye meeting yours quickly. “She didn’t want us anymore, she wants new pets.” He adds. You were well aware of the mistress, also known as Kim Sooyoung, Hoseok’s fiancé, and the women he cheated on you with. She had always been a piece of work, growing up wealthy using hybrids like toys, a way to boost her social status. 

Jungkook was rare, grizzly bear hybrids hard to find for adoption in the modern world, most of them being placed in sanctuaries due to their tempers and immense strength. Jungkook was gifted to Hoseok when he was six. 

A present.

A friend. 

They grew up together, and the fact that some girl had managed to come between the pair was alarming. 

“What do you mean us?” You ask.

“Taehyung, he’s a bengal tiger, he came when the mistress moved in.” You nod, motioning for him to continue. “I head the mistress and Hobi talking a few weeks ago, she said she was looking at a new pair of leopard brothers. He didn’t want to give us up at first, he kept saying they made a promise when we were adopted but she convinced him, said we were misbehaving too much and it wouldn’t look good when they took us to events.” 

“The tiger, is he still with them?” Jungkook nods to your question, his hand tight in his lap. “Are you two close?” You ask again, watching a Jungkook shrugs a little. 

“She always favoured him, we never really spent much time together, she said I was a bad influence for him so we were usually separated” 

“What’s happening with him?” 

“I’m not too sure, I did hear mentions of a breeding facility, they were going to pay over one million for a pure bred bengal.” You watch as jungkook’s face drop a little - despite the two hybrids not being close you could tell there was some sort of connection there. 

You had heard a lot about breeding facilities - more often than not the studs were drugged kept sedated so they were more complying with requests. Most of the times the male hybrids were rare and dangerous, so the facilities always claimed to sedation was to keep staff safe. 

“Ok, leave that with me.” You mumble making a mental note to ask Hoseok about it when you see him next. 

“I was thinking about walking down to the town market today, did you maybe want to come?” You ask, watching as Jungkook raises his eyebrows in question. “I just mean, surely there are some essentials you need, and maybe we can pick you out a few snacks.” You add on, smiling a little as he nods his head slowly, deciding you’d both have a quick shower before heading to the market.

 

+

+

It’s clear as you reach the bustling street market that Jungkook has not been social in a long time. He stand right behind you, almost pressed against your back as you weave your way through the crowd, saying quick hello’s to whoever initiates conversation. 

“It’s busier than normal today - I think strawberries have just come into season.” You speak loudly, hoping the male behind you can hear what your saying. You see him nod a little when you swing your head back to face him. 

“My favourite store is at the very back, I hope they’re not sold out yet.” You say, stopping in your tracks turning to face him a little. “It’s a lot of people, isn’t it?” You question.

“I’m just not used to— I’ve never been around— What if I—“ 

“What if you what?”

“What if I hurt someone? What if I loose my temper and hurt someone who did nothing wrong?” 

“Jungkook, you’ve never hurt anyone before, why are you so worried about it now?” 

“The mistress, she said it’s what I was bred for, that I was made to cause pain.” He whimpers, holding his shoulders forwards trying to avoid anyone who slips past him. 

“Well she’s wrong. You’d never hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it, you’re still human Jungkook, not some kind of wild animal.” You sigh, looking at the people around you before reaching forwards, grabbing his hand, lacing his fingers with yours before pulling him along to the lone stall at the end of the street. 

“Hi Mr Park, you wouldn’t happen to have anymore berries in stock, would you?” The older man smiles brightly before pulling a bag out from under his small table. 

“Save the best for you, my dear. I see you have a friend with you today.” 

“This is Jungkook, he’s an old friend we’ve been catching up with each other.” The older man sends a quick smile at jungkook before slipping an extra pint of berries into the bag. 

“My grizzly aways loved his berries.” He whispers to you, and you smile back, sliding the money over the table before taking the bag in your spare hand leading Jungkook back towards the main market. 

“What did he say to you?” He questions, his hand still tight in yours as he leans forwards so you can hear him better. 

“Don’t worry about it, just that he picked the best of the crop for us.” 

“Do you have toothpaste? Shampoo?” You question as you slide into the shop, picking out a basket and walking to the toiletry aisle, stopping in front of the mens essential section. Jungkook stops close behind you looking at the cleaning supplies in surprise. 

“Pick whatever you usually use.” You say, looking at some of the different body washes and what breeds they interact with. “It says any type of bear breeds usually like honey scents.” You add, turning to the frozen male. 

“Kook?” 

“I don’t know what I usually use - she never let me pick anything.” 

“Oh, well why don’t we try this one.” You say softly, taking a shampoo bottle of the shelf and handing it to him, “It says it good for moisture and the honey, pine tree scent is good for relaxation.” You add as he surveys the bottle looking at it with a deep glare, you grab the matching conditioner chucking both bottle into the basket before continuing down the aisle. You grab a few more items, toothpaste, a toothbrush as some body wash, stopping in front of the deodorant section, motioning for Jungkook to step forwards. 

“Just pick one that you like the smell of.” You say softly, hovering behind him patiently as he picks up every kind of deodorant and looks over the label quickly. 

“This one seems good.” He says slowly standing from his crouched position in front of the shelves, moving over to the basket to place it inside. 

“Okay, the last thing we need is snacks. Do you have anything you prefer?” You ask as you scan down the list on your phone checking off the things that you’ve already placed in your basket. Jungkook shakes his head, letting out a tired sigh. 

“Well, why don’t I pick a few things, we can try them together and we can always come back if there is anything you really like.” Jungkook just nods, his shoulder starting to sag in fatigue, the anxiety of the days seeming to take a toll on him. 

You’re quick to move through the store picking every snack you think he would enjoy, a few of them sparking your memory from when you previously lived together. You take your items to the front desk, paying quickly with a small smile as the cashier looks over the large man besides you. Jungkook’s fidgeting breaks your concentration on the item screen as you turn your gaze towards the cashier, watching her gaze linger on the muscles just barely concealed below his long sleeved shirt. 

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” You huff, as you pull the grocery bags off the counter, grabbing one of Jungkook’s hands in your own before tugging him out of the store. You and Jungkook walk the rest of the way back to the house in silence, his fingers still laced with yours as he taken longer strides to keep up with your quick steps. 

“I’m going to go out into the garden to pick some pumpkins for some soup tonight, did you want to help or did you want to do something else?” You ask as you walk through the front door, placing all the groceries on the kitchen counter, moving around with quick movement to put everything in it’s designated place. 

“I was wondering if maybe I could wander through the forest out the back, just to get a look at my surroundings.” Jungkook says softly, his eyes following your around the kitchen, as you stop and turn towards him, you catch his eyes darting back towards the floor. 

“Of course, go explore.” You say quickly, moving back to the groceries not noticing the way Jungkook flinches slightly at your tone.  

“I’m sorry for upsetting you in the store.” 

“What?” You question as you spin around, taking in the grizzly’s submissive posture. His shoulder shrunken inwards, his head hanging low, his hand linked tightly in front of himself. “Jungkook, what are you on about.” You ask again. 

“You just seem frustrated, and I wasn’t very helpful at the store, so it must be my fault.” He answers, his thought process astounding. 

“Kook, I’m not mad at you for not knowing which products you need, I’m mad at the girl at the counter for so blatantly checking you out, ignoring how uncomfortable you looked.” You reassure, taking in a deep breath of air before letting your body relax. “I’m not mad, just annoyed.” You say softer, taking a few steps forwards and reaching out to the hybrid. 

When he doesn’t flinch away from you, you take the time to unclamp his hand, push his shoulder back to the natural position and lift his head lightly with a finger under his chin. “I can never be mad at you, kookie.” You whisper, the corners of your lips lifting in a gentle smile, as you take a step away from him, pulling open the bottom drawer in the kitchen pulling out a set of keys. 

“Go explore, I think you’ll really love the river about six hundred metres into the forest, it’s very relaxing.” You say softly, opening on of his hands and placing the key and closing his hand over it. “Come and go and you please Jungkook. You live here now, might as well learn what’s around, the soup will be down around six if you wanted some.” 

“Okay.” He says softly, looking down at the key in his palm, before lifting his head, his eyes locking with yours. 

Those stupid deep, brown, doe eyes stealing the breath from your chest. 

“I’ll see you for dinner.” 

+

+

You had made good progress over the past sixteen days with Jungkook. He made eye contact without hesitation and was making good use of the key you gave him, often leaving in the early morning to explore the forest, finding his way back to the house for lunch. 

Today had not followed the typical routine. Jungkook sat on your bed watching as you ushered around your bedroom, choosing bits and pieces from the cupboard. You looked down at your white button up shirt tucked into your black dress pants the fitted black blazer hanging over your arm. 

“Do you think this outfit says, I hate your guts and this is just business?” You ask the frowning grizzly bear picking at the pom poms on your white duvet. 

“I don’t think you should be going to meet him alone.” Jungkook says not answering your earlier question. You sigh and close your cupboard pulling your sleek black heels with you to the bed, as you sit across from him. 

“Why not?” 

“He hurt you.” Jungkook answers, his hands gripping the duvet tightly. 

“He hurt me emotionally Jungkook, not physically.” You respond, before adding “And this is about keeping you safe not me, I need to meet with him to get him to handover the adoption papers and I need to enquire about your friend.” 

“But what if he does something again?” Jungkook begins, his head lifting to look at you as you bend down to pull on your heels. “He’s not the person you used to know.” 

“Neither am I, Kook. I’ve grown since I left him and I’m a stronger person now, nothing is going to happen.” 

“What if I came with you?” Jungkook asks, his hands finally releasing the blanket as you stand up from the mattress. 

“I can’t ask you to do that, he hurt you too, and a lot more recently than me.” 

“You’re not asking.” Jungkook says his voice firm. “I’m offering and I’m not taking no for an answer.” He adds. “I’ll get changed and meet you in the car.” 

“Alright then.” You huff in disbelief, grabbing your purse from the front door as you walk out to the car, pulling the keys out of your purse and sliding into the front seat. You type into your phone as you set up the directions, your head shooting up as Jungkook opens the passenger door, sliding into the seat. 

“Let’s get this over with then.” He says, his body coiled tight as you begin the forty-five minute drive into the city. The two of you listen to music, Jungkook replaying the songs he really likes, his eyes brightening as he watches the world fly past. 

As soon as you pull into the carpark of the fancy restaurant, Jungkook’s body tenses, his behaviour becoming similar to how it was when he arrived at your house. 

“That’s the mistress’s car.” Jungkook speaks softly, a small quiver in his voice. 

“You’re not hers anymore, Jungkook. You are your own person and follow your own rules, she can’t control you anymore.” You reassure him, stroking his arm lightly as he nods. “And don’t call her the mistress, don’t let her hold that power over you.” 

You both step out of the car, Jungkook sticks close by your side as you waltz into the restaurant, the hostess at the front taking your coat of your shoulders, as she guides you to the table where you past lover sits. 

“Hoseok.” You say as you reach the table. “Sooyoung.” You add, facing her for only a second as she hisses a greeting, her eyes immediately taking in Jungkook’s form behind you. “Don’t look at him, you look at me.” You mutter, taking your seat and motioning for Jungkook to take the one besides you. 

He hesitates. His eyes whisk over his previous two owners before he looks back down to you. He lets out a shaky breath before he takes a seat, his hands crossing over his lap. 

“Did you bring the paperwork?” You ask quickly. 

“Yes, it’s signed and has already been filed with the government, you should be getting his certificate within the week.” Hoseok responds, his eyes trailing over your grizzly bear sadly. 

“Good, I expected nothing less.” You huff, taking a sip from the glass of water in front of you before continuing. “I actually came here to negotiate the adoption of your other hybrid. Taehyung, is it?” You words seem to shock the two as they both recoil slightly. 

“We’ve actually already set up an adoption for him, he’s not available.” Sooyoung begins but your raise a hand to silence her. 

“Yes, the breeding facility, I’m aware.” The two of them watch as you smile bitterly before digging into your purse for some paperwork. “You see, I’ve done some digging since you dumped Jungkook at my door. I found some interesting information on the most recent laws that were passed two weeks ago, I believe on hybrid rights.” Sooyoung shifts uncomfortably in her seat. 

“I’ve gotten first hand victim statements from Jungkook that this change in homing was not entirely consensual and he was not given much choice in the matter, and I suspect it is the same with your tiger hybrid, under section seven of the hybrid right laws, that paper you signed when they were adopted state that all rehoming must be consensual and of free will by the hybrid.” You state, watching as Hoseok’s head drops towards the ground. 

“Now in Jungkook’s case he has agreed that being adopted by me is in his best interest and is willing to drop the charges, if and only if you agree to re-home his fellow hybrid to a more fitted home.” You finish your statement by taking another sip of your water, reaching your hand over to still Jungkook’s restless leg. 

“You can’t be serious.” 

“Deadly, in face I’ve already ordered a wellness check on Taehyung, I should be hearing back from the any moment now.” You respond a cold smile on your face as you wait for the two of them to react. 

“You are such a cock sucking whore.” Sooyoung says standing from her seat at the table, glaring over at you. 

“I think I could say the same about you, Mistress.” You sneer, not budging from your seat, as she reaches over the table to grab a fistful of your shirt. You have no time to react as a hand snaps out grabbing hold of her wrist pulling it away from you roughly, a pained expression taking over her face.

“You do not touch her.” Jungkook growls, his hand tight around her wrist. 

“Kook, let go.” You whisper. 

“Do you understand me?” He snarls, his hand slamming down on the table waiting for her response. She nods quickly, his hand releasing her, as Hoseok looks at the hybrid in surprise. 

“I think it will be best, if Jungkook and I get going.” You mumble, standing from your seat, straightening out your shirt, before looking down at the male and female still seated at the table. “I do hope you take our offer seriously, you know where to find me if you want the claims of hybrid abuse to disappear. I expect to be hearing that you’re treating Taehyung will the respect he deserves.” You finish before squeezing past Jungkook and making your way to the front of the restaurant the hostess rushing to hand you your jacket as you exit the front doors. 

“I knew it was a bad idea to come here.” Jungkook growl, his ears flat against his hand, as he opens and closes his fists. “I’m rabid and violent and I just scared a whole bunch of people in there.” 

“Jungkook…” You sigh, unlocking the doors of the car, stopping in front of the passenger door. You can hear Jungkook muttering to himself as he paces behind you in the carpark. 

“I’m violent and aggressive and need to be locked in a cage for what I did.” 

“Jungkook, please.” You groan, turning away from the car to face the frazzled hybrid. “Jungkook, stop.” You shout, as you move forwards, grabbing onto his hands to stop his pacing, freezing as he turns to face you. 

“She was right about me.” 

“No, she wasn’t. You are not violent, or aggressive or rabid. You were abused and mistreated and you just confronted someone who has made living hard for you. If anything you should be proud of yourself for standing up to such a putrid excuse for a woman.” You hiss, glaring back at the restaurant, slowly turning back to him, his eyes locked with yours, his gaze blazing. 

“Are you proud of me?” Jungkook asks softly. His eyes softening. 

“Of course, I’m proud of you.” You respond, your eyes flickering between his, his eyebrows furrowed as he stands frozen in your grip. 

“You’re proud of me?” Jungkook says, his tone questioning as he continues to stare down at you, the size of the grizzly hybrid becoming strikingly obvious. Jungkook nods to himself for a moment before he leans down, his lips capturing yours softly.  

“Jungkook what’re you doing?” You question quietly as he pulls his mouth away from yours, twisting his wrist to pull them from your grip. 

“Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.” He whispers back, his hands landing on the sides of your face as he pulls your mouth back to his, his kiss fiercer, more desperate than before. You lean into the hybrid, your face growing in warmth as you reach for his belt tugging on it softly to pull his body into yours. 

“We should probably go home.” Jungkook says as he pulls his face away from yours, you nods biting down on your swollen bottom lip. “I’ll drive.” He adds, pulling the keys from your clenched hand. Jungkook leans forwards and places one more chaste kiss to your lips before rushing around to the drivers side of the car. 

+

+

“No, thank you for the report, I appreciate the assessment.” You speak into the phone, pacing around your down stairs office as you think over what the hybrid welfare officer had told you. 

‘Malnourished, bruised and timid’ Were the key words which set your hairs on end. ‘Relocation to be sorted out immediately’ joined the list. 

“Officer Kim, if I might request that the hybrid gets located with me, I’m actually going through the process of adopting his brother at the moment, that how I became aware of the tiger and I’m sure they’d love to be reunited.” Your words seem to stop the officers relay of the report as he hums into the phone, you can hear his keyboard clicking as he looks through the records. 

“Ah, yes I see here your are in the process of adopting Jungkook, a grizzly bear hybrid?”

“Yes.”

“And you think you’re suitable to take care of a bengal tiger on top of a grizzly bear?” The officer asks his voice holding doubt. 

“I do, since I already am looking after his brother I feel he will adapt quite quickly, and I work from home with a large property for them both to roam and have space to enrich themselves without causing damage, I feel I am a strong candidate for him.” You answer honestly, the response practiced to a tee. 

“I’ll put in a request, you might hear by as soon as tomorrow afternoon if you are a good candidate.” 

“That would be great, thank you Officer Kim.” The phone call ends a lot better than you were expecting. You sit your phone on the desk looking over at the police report on your computer once again before closing down the document. 

“Did it go well?” Jungkook’s voice is quiet from the doorway, startling your slightly. 

“I think so, they said I’ll know as early as tomorrow afternoon if I’m suitable to care for him. This report isn’t good thought Kook, he’s going to be in quiet a state if he comes here.” You sigh, running your hands through your hair, as Jungkook crouches in front of you. 

“He’s been with her for a long time, but if anyone can give him what he needs it’s you. He’ll be okay, he’s a strong man.” You nod at his words, smiling as he pushes the hair away from your face, leaning up to place a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“We should get some sleep, if Taehyung is coming here there will be a lot to do.” You say, sliding on your slippers and making your way up the stairs into your bedroom, quickly changing into your pyjamas. 

“Do you think maybe I can stay in here with you tonight?” Jungkook asks as he watches you pull back the covers on your bed. 

It doesn’t take you long to nod your head in agreement, Jungkook unbuttoning his shirt throwing it over a chair nearby before walking to the opposite side of the bed, pulling the covers down to mirror you. You both slide onto the mattress pulling the covers up to your chest, your body tense as you try to ignore the shirtless hybrid besides you. 

“You should relax.” Jungkook chuckles, as he turns onto his side, propping his head up with his hand as he watches you fiddle with the covers. Jungkook lets out another low chuckle before his free arm reaches forwards, wrapping over your waist pulling your body towards him, the warmth of his body seeping into your side instantly. 

“Oh, I could get used to this.” You sigh in delight. 

+

+

You hear the loud knocks at 5am, Jungkook shooting up from the bed besides you.”Who is that?” You groan, rubbing at your eyes before slipping out from under the covers, sliding on your slippers and trudging your way to the front door. The knocking continues as you turn the front hallway light on reaching for the locks. 

You swing the door open, letting out a short gasp at the sight in front of you. 

“My name is Officer Lee, I heard you were looking to adopt this Bengal Tiger Hybrid.” The police officer says slowly, his gaze shooting to the figure besides you. 

“Taehyung?” Jungkook questions almost silently. 

“I am.” 

“Due to unforeseen circumstances we’ve had to remove him from his previous location and place him into witness protection, we were hoping you would be able to care for him until his new placement can be sorted.” The officer continues, and you nod, immediately reaching towards the suitcases.

“Of course, he can stay as long as he needs.” You bustle, wishing the officer farewell, finally looking over the shocked hybrid. 

“What has she done to you?” You gasp as the tiger walks into the hall, the light showing the extensiveness of his injuries. The tiger is silent taking in the grizzly bear behind you, and the home around him. 

“You abandoned me.” The first words out of Taehyung’s mouth shock you. 

“You abandoned me.” He continues lunging forwards towards Jungkook before either of your can react.  

#bts #bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts hybrid au #little baby bear #little baby bear 2.0 #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #taehyung #taehyung imagine #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic

[m2ok]

Hello! Hope I'm not bothering you, can I make a request?

Could you please write Price comforting a m!reader after he has a bad encounter with his abusive parents?

Mine are back in my life causing chaos again and I want Price to hug me so bad (╥﹏╥)

(Also you write really good fics! Keep up the amazing work)

-🇷🇺

Of course I can!! I’m very sorry to hear about your parents, but I hope this helps a bit :) thank you for your request, and I hope things can better for you soon, love 🫶🫶

A Hug That Feels Like a Safe Haven

John Price X M!Reader

TW: mentions of parental abuse.

A/n: I didn’t get too into what the parents did exactly because I didn’t want it to be too triggering, but I hope you enjoy <3

Going home after a mission was never easy, it honestly was worse than the actual mission sometimes. It didn’t even feel like home, not when you weren’t welcomed, when your mere existence seemed to upset those around you.

This time hit especially hard, you weren’t sure why. Maybe it was because the mission beforehand was emotionally taxing and you were already overloaded, maybe because you had gotten so used to being away from them that the thought of going back to that hell hole broke you down.

Either way, you had gotten out of there as soon as you could. You went back to base a week early, you couldn’t stand being around them any longer and you just had to get back to your real home, with your real family.

You were in survival mode since you left your ‘home’ and it seemed your body hadn’t realized it was safe yet, because even as you stepped back into the building you were still on edge. Your eyes were glancing everywhere for any threat of danger and you were aware of any little door closing like it could somehow be the people who hurt you coming back to continue.

You jumped when a sudden hand was placed on your shoulder, dropping your bag as you spun around and shoved the hand off.

You were met with the concerned face of your Captain, his hand still lingering in the air before he let it rest at his side. You immediately went wide eyes, hands coming up in defense as you apologized profusely.

“I’m sorry-I’m so sorry I didn’t mean-“ you were shaking where you stood, and it shocked him to the core. He’d never seen you this…out of it, scared. Even on the battlefield you were calm and kept a level head, so what had shaken you this hard?

“Hey…hey it’s alright” he said as he gently took your hands in his own, the firm yet gentle grasp slowly easing you down from flight or fight mode.

He rubbed gentle circles to the tops of your hands “what happened?” He asked softly, and just like his hold on your hand his voice was soft, it was warm. He genuinely cared about what had scared you, and the thought alone had you breaking down. You weren’t used to this kind of gentleness, it was something your parents never gave you. John cared about you.

With a choked sob you fell into his arms, and he immediately wrapped his own around you. He didn’t question it as he held you tight against his body. You held onto the man like your life depended on it, your fingers gripping his shirt as you buried your head in his neck.

His arms tightened around you, one hand on your shoulder with the other held you tight against your back. It was just the right amount of pressure, it made you feel warm, it made you feel safe. You knew nothing, nobody, could hurt you while you were with him.

“My-my parents” was all you could manage to get out, and though it wasn’t much it was like he understood. For a second his grip tightened, and he pulled you closer.

He was seething with rage, though he kept it contained for your sake, but there was nothing he wanted more than to find out where your parents lived and show them why he was a Captain. He restrained himself, for now anyways. You needed him, not his anger.

“You’re safe now, I’ve got you” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Nobody’s gonna hurt you again, love. Not while I’m here” the words were gentle, but you knew they were true. He meant it, he wouldn’t let you get hurt again. Not if he could help it, and by god he was going to do everything in his power to keep you safe from now on.

“Come on” he coaxed as he pulled away from you, he could see the bags under your eyes. It was like you hadn’t slept since you left, and you probably hadn’t, but he was here to remedy that.

You grabbed your bag from the floor before you reached for his hand, his own immediately finding yours. You squeezed, and he squeezed back, before leading you down the hall. He passed your room and for a second you were confused, until you got to the common room.

The rest of the team was there, as you figured, they didn’t seem like they had any better a home life then you did, no reason for them to go back. John quietly led you over to a couch in the back, ushering you to sit down as he set the bag down next to it.

You did as you were told to, watching as John promptly sat next to you. You made quick work of leaning into his side, curling yourself into his body as he held you close. It wasn’t the easiest task, you were a military man after all so you weren’t exactly small, but that didn’t seem to matter at all.

He wrapped himself around you like it was nothing, like it was the easiest thing he had done. He rested his head on top of yours as the rest of the boys quietly resumed whatever they were doing in silent understanding. They’d all been in your position before someway or another, they knew what you were going through.

Ghost continued quietly sharpening his knives, while Soap and Gaz played a game of pool off in the corner. This was home, this was family, this was safety. With a deep, content sigh, you allowed yourself to close your eyes and let your guard down. The exhaustion hit you like a brick and within seconds you were asleep, the quiet chattering of the team behind you whole Price gently ran his fingers through your hair, pressing occasional kisses to your forehead.

You were happy to be home with your family, finally.

As always, requests are open

#cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #cod x reader #cod imagine #cod x male reader #male reader #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #john price #john price x male reader #john price imagine #john price x you #fanfic #captain price x male reader

[zablife]

Say Yes to Heaven

dark!Arthur x female reader

Summary: Your childhood friend, Arthur, is deeply upset when he convinces himself your boyfriend is mistreating you. Deciding to take matters into his own hands to "save" you, his protection soon grows into an unhealthy obsession. He knows he can give you a better life...if you would only say yes.

Author’s Note: Inspired by "Say Yes to Heaven" by Lana Del Rey.

Warnings: drinking, drug use, unreliable narrator, mention of domestic abuse, mention of blood, minor character death, yandere tendencies

France, 1917

“Arthur, stop pacing, you’re making the other lads nervous,” Tommy commanded, stamping out his cigarette.

“I can’t help it, Tom,” Arthur replied, biting his lip anxiously, taking another swig from the small bottle the doctor had prescribed.

Tommy wrenched it from his hands. “Stop it, man. You don’t need that stuff.”

Arthur clenched his jaw in frustration, turning his head away as he replied, “I do though. Need to forget I’m here when she’s back home…with him.”

Tommy shook his head in disbelief as he poured away the opium and bromide solution. Might keep Arthur from wanking about her, but it didn’t give him the readied solider he needed, he thought with a roll of his eyes.

“Nah, you don’t understand what could happen to a girl like her if I’m not there to protect her,” Arthur asserted.

“Then see to it when you get home, but don’t get yourself killed worrying about some girl who seemed happy when we left,” Tommy huffed.

Arthur’s eyes went wild at the suggestion, pushing his brother up against the trench. “You think she were happy with a piece of shit like him who don’t know how to treat her? Or have you forgot what men like that do? Like dad was with mum?” he asked, lower lip trembling.

Tommy sighed seeing there was no use arguing. “I didn’t say that, did I? I just said to make it home alive.” Then he pushed his older brother from him, watching his sibling crash to the ground, holding his aching head. Tommy knew if vengeance was what his brother wanted, he would have it. Arthur was never one to let go of a grievance. 

—————————————-

Birmingham, 1919

“Esme, I need the black star list,” Arthur said in a low voice, shifting his weight on the balls of his feet as he might before a fight, ready and eager for the first punch. She barely looked up as she pushed the slip of paper across the desk, unaware of what it meant to him. He immediately scanned the list for the name of his foe, heartbeat thundering in his chest with the anticipation of a righteous victor. However, it was not to be his day. 

When Arthur realized the name he sought was not on the list, he emitted a low growl of displeasure. “He fucking owes, I know he does,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Something wrong, Arthur?” Esme asked, looking up from her work in confusion.

Thinking for a moment he shook his head. “Tommy’s made a mistake, but I’ll make it right,” he assured her.

“What do you mean?” she asked with furrowed brow, but Arthur was already out the door.

——————————-

Arthur’s agitation was momentarily quelled by the sight of you walking down Watery Lane, the morning sunlight streaming through your hair. Your angelic face gave him pause, but only long enough to notice what he swore was a fresh bruise blooming just below your right elbow. His heart clenched as he noticed you wincing under the weight of the basket you carried and he was instantly transported to childhood. When you were eight and he was ten, he would rush out into the street to help you carry a bucket of ale home to your father. He knew the punishment for spilled beer and he couldn’t allow it to happen to someone so soft and delicate. Your large doe eyes urged him to treat you carefully, offering his protection whenever he could.

Approaching carefully so as not to startle you, he removed his cap to greet you. A wide smile overtook his features when you acknowledged him, a feeling of warmth radiating through his chest from a simple glance from you.

“You alright there, darlin’?” he asked with a softness reserved just for you. 

“I’m fine, thank you,” you replied brightly. As he stood twisting his cap nervously in his hands without anything more to say, you bid him goodbye and continued down the street.

“Where are you headed?” Arthur asked eagerly, nearly tripping over his own feet as he rushed after you. He was enamored with you, openly staring at your beauty, and it made you blush. Arthur had a crush on you since you were kids which you found endearing. You couldn’t understand how others could be frightened of him in the slightest, despite your friends’ constant warnings a Shelby brother was dangerous company.

“I have to return to the shop. I shouldn’t keep James waiting,” you said, thinking of how busy the morning rush could be. 

Arthur furrowed his brow, as he remembered the scorching heat of the ovens and the callouses on your hands. He hated the thought of you having to work so hard. As his shoulder bumped against yours, he felt your bone poke back against him and worry began to consume him. He wanted to ask if you’d eaten that morning or in the last week, but thought better of it.

“How’s business?” he asked instead.

“As well as can be expected when people are still recovering from the war. James was a great help after father died though,” you praised, shifting the basket to your other arm with a grunt.

“Let me help you with that. Looks heavy, love,” Arthur commented, trying to be useful.

However, by that time you were standing in front of the shop. James peered out the front window at you, raising his cane to tap against the glass. “I have to go now, Arthur, but thank you for walking with me,” you said quickly before disappearing inside. Arthur looked up and scowled at the man in the window, taking note of the object most likely used to mark your skin. “Fucking cunt…” he hissed, clenching his fists at his side.

————————————————-

“Are there any other orders of business?” Tommy asked before attempting to close the family meeting.

“Yeah, I’ve got somethin to say,” Arthur spoke up, voice coursing with urgency.

“Well, what is it?” Tommy said impatiently, squinting cautiously through the smoke from his cigarette to study his older brother.

“When do we go after James Miller, eh? It’s been six bloody months,” Arthur sniffed disgustedly.

“James Miller? He has no outstanding debts,” Lizzie said, opening a file in front of her and scrunching her nose as she followed a column of names with her finger. 

“It’s not about money. It’s about reputation, Lizzie. Ain’t that right, Tommy?” he said, looking to his brother expectantly. “The Peaky Blinders keep order round here now and James Miller ain’t playin by the bloody rules.”

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose as he began to see where the conversation was heading. “Arthur, we’ve been through this already. Y/n hired James Miller as a legitimate employee. Who are we to tell her how to run her fucking bakery? Who gives a fuck?” he said, stamping out his cigarette and turning to grab his jacket off the chair.

Arthur stood a bit too quickly, nearly overturning his seat in his haste. “I give a fuck because he’s taken what isn’t his! Making her work night and day and taking all the profits.” He grabbed Tommy’s arm to make his brother look him in the eye as he stressed, “He’s hurtin’ her too, I know it.” 

Tommy took note of the pain in Arthur’s eyes. He was well aware that there were nights Arthur drank himself into a stupor, rambling about his love for Y/n. As far as he was concerned, she was the only woman in the world and he would fight to the death for her. If allowing him this one victory might bring Arthur’s mind back to business, Tommy decided to agree.

Tommy clamped a hand over Arthur’s and gave a short nod. “Alright, brother, if you’re certain. I’ll let you handle it the way you see fit.”

“S right. By order of the peaky fucking blinders,” Arthur said, savoring the words as he spoke them, knowing justice was forthcoming.

———————————-

“Open up, by order of the Peaky Blinders!” John called, nearly kicking the door in before James could open it. 

“Come here to harass me again have you?” James asked, face red with fury, picking up his cane and waving it at the younger Shelby brother.

“James, stop!” you shouted, rushing out to grab his arm. You placed yourself between him and the peaky blinders as you asked in a small, frightened voice, “What’s this about?” 

Arthur gulped as he saw you, hating to have caused you distress. “We don’t mean ya no harm,Y/n,” he said, holding up his hands. You studied his black gloves with suspicion, but decided to trust him based on the pleading look he now gave you. He looked genuinely sorry for the intrusion and you thought the least you could was listen. 

“Alright, come in,” you said, opening the door toward him.

Arthur shook his head gently before asking, “A word alone, Y/n?”

James gave you a dire look, but you silenced it with a hand to his shoulder and a kiss to his cheek. “It’s alright. I’ll be fine,” you promised, grabbing your shawl and heading down the steps to meet with Arthur as John stayed behind guarding the door.

“Arthur please tell me what’s happening,” you begged as you walked with him.

Arthur stopped by the alley and reached for your hand tenderly. As he did, your shawl slipped, revealing a burn on your lower arm which you quickly covered. “You don’t have to do this, Y/n. I can help ya,” Arthur offered, stroking his thumb over your knuckles. 

“Do what, Arthur?” you asked. He looked so forlorn, but you had no idea why.

Arthur’s head turned back toward your shop as his eyes flashed with sudden hatred. “Be with him!”

You took a step back to see if he were actually serious before realizing, Arthur Shelby was jealous. “Because I love him…” you exclaimed as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Look how he treats ya!” he said, jerking his chin toward your injured arm.

“That’s a burn from a hot pan, Arthur,” you explained quietly. 

“The hell it is! Why you covering for him?” he grunted. Then he softened as he took your cheek in his hand. “You can tell me, dove. Just cause he was here when your dad passed, don’t mean you have to let him take over. I know I was gone fighting a long time, but I’m home now. I want to be here for ya now…please,” he said, pouring his heart out in a way he didn’t think possible.

You listened intently, thinking of all the times he’d been two steps behind you, your fiercest protector since you were small. However, it was nothing more than a form of sisterly affection you felt for him and you realized you’d have to tell him of your feelings sooner rather than later.

“Oh, Arthur, I know you worry. You always have, but I’m not in trouble, you see. I’m in love and we’re getting married,” you said with an encouraging smile. You searched him for a response, but he remained stone faced before you.

Then suddenly something unexpected happened. Arthur’s features contorted into an expression of pain and his face and neck turned to a deep shade of red as he fixed you with a perplexed look. Unable to contain his humiliation at your rejection he shouted, “There’s no ring on your finger, Y/n. You’re lying to me!”

Your eyes grew wide at the change in him and you shook your head violently. “No, no, of course not! We haven’t the money. That's why I don't have a ring.”

Arthur’s hands snaked upward toward your wrists, restraining you with a punishing grasp as he pushed you further into the alley and up against the cool brick. “You’re lying,” he repeated, hot breath fanning over your face as he moved impossibly close. “You don’t love him,” he said as though he were trying to imprint that fact into your mind.

Tears began to well in your eyes from the shock and the pain of his hold. With quivering lip you looked into his eyes as you whispered a frightened plea. “You’re hurting me, Arthur. Please stop.”

The spark was quickly extinguished and Arthur relinquished his hold, backing away and running a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots as he shook himself. “Fook! Fook! God, I’m sorry.”

You wrapped your shawl around yourself tightly as you mumbled, “Goodbye, Arthur,” and scurried away, unsure what to make of the situation.

Arthur stood in the alley for what seemed hours, pacing and plotting, his mind never leaving you. None of what he’d heard could be right. You would come back to him, he was sure of it.

———————————-

The heat from the kitchen was dissipating slowly to mix with the chill of the late evening air. James had gone to take out the rubbish bins and you were waiting for his return as you finished the cleaning. It was another long day and you felt yourself slipping into a soporific state even as you stood cleaning. 

Willing yourself to continue, a sudden gust from the open back door blew a solid sheet of rain into your face, causing you to blink and sputter as you fumbled for the door, rain pouring across the threshold. As you grappled with the edge of the door, an unsettling crash came from the alleyway and you turned in a tight circle, looking for James. Instead of your boyfriend, you caught sight of Arthur Shelby, or at least you thought it was him, from his profile. He stood at the corner of your house, washing his hands in the run off from the eaves, scrubbing them clean of what you weren’t entirely sure.

GIF credit @peakykestrel

“Arthur?” you called out in a shaky voice.

His hands froze at the sound of your soft voice, one covering the blood which stained the other. He couldn’t let you see what he’d done, though he knew you’d find out soon enough. Dipping his head low to slough the water off his flat cap, he gazed back up at you with wild eyes like an animal caught with prey still in its jaws. 

“Y/n, what’re ya doin’ out here? Thought you’d be in bed by now,” he managed, voice rumbling low like the thunder rolling through the city. 

“I heard a noise,” you explained, eyes coming to rest on a broken piece of wood at the bottom of the stairs. It was hard to make out in the dim light, but it appeared to have the carvings of James’ cane and you felt your heart lurch. Arthur’s head tilted at a precarious angle to follow your line of sight, eyes flicking back up to yours and causing a shudder to course through your whole body. Your hands twisted nervously in your apron, feeling very small under his intense scrutiny.

Hiding his hands behind his back, Arthur slowly paced toward you in a stalking motion that made your stomach churn with dread. You shivered as he motioned for you to enter the house. “S too cold for ya out here, love,” he whispered in a voice that sounded far too placid. Then you felt his large hand at the small of your back, shooting electric sparks straight to your feet. Only then did your limbs begin to move in halted jerks with Arthur steering you into the sitting room. 

You allowed him to guide you, feeling the grip he held on your elbow as he sat you in a chair by the fireplace. He took care to light it for you before taking a seat opposite you. Then he removed his coat and hat as if to show he had further business to discuss.

Despite the warmth that surrounded you, you shook violently as you asked, “Arthur, what have you done?”

Arthur leaned forward as he removed a flask from his pocket. Taking a long swig of whisky from the silver container to fortify himself, he exhaled sharply, “What should’ve been done a long time ago. I took care of him.”

“No, no…” you begged, catching sight of his bruised knuckles and bloodied shirt fully for the first time. 

He rushed to your side to cradle you as your head fell into your hands, rocking yourself as you wondered how you would go on now. 

“Let the fear go, love. He can’t hurt you anymore. I’ve got you now,” Arthur whispered into your hair as he cradled your limp body. Running a hand over your hair with his damp hands, he felt a surge of pride course through his veins and it was intoxicating. He had you in his arms as it should always have been. 

Feeling a stir of desire, he pressed his face against your neck, kissing you with feverish passion. You recoiled from him in horror, pushing against the side of his face with the heel of your hand. Panting and heaving, you tried to shove him away, but he was much too strong. Finally he pulled away to look at you, rigid and frightened in his embrace.

“Please don’t look at me that way, love,” he begged, capturing your face between his large palms. “I did what I did for you…for us. He was hurtin’ ya. I couldn’t let that go on,” Arthur mused, staring into the fire.

“Arthur, I told you, I loved him. We were happy…,” you said through tears, now streaming down your face. You pulled his hands from you and studied the blood that still remained, trembling at the sight of it around his wrists and under his fingernails. You bit your lip harshly and closed your eyes to steady yourself from being sick at the thoughts running through your mind of how he’d killed James. 

Arthur turned to look at you, “You’re confused. He weren’t good for ya, but I am,” he said earnestly. “I can give you a good life. Treat you like a queen, I will if you’ll be my wife. Say yes,” he asked, eyes shining like two bright stars. “To everything I can give ya.”

You took in a shaky breath as you fell back into his arms broken and defeated, how long could you deny him, you wondered? He was a delusional madman and you had to find a way out. 

———————————————-

Two months later��

“Oh my God, I can’t thank you enough,” you said through tears, hugging your friend.

“Promise me you’ll go live a good life in America where that prick can never find you,” Celia said with more than a hint of malice. She’d been working tirelessly to secure passage for you by railway and steamliner as well as a new life in New York and now that everything was in order, you would be on your way the following morning, never to set foot in Small Heath ever again. 

You packed a bag and went to bed with visions of your new life dancing before your eyes. Life had never felt so peaceful, knowing you were taking charge of your terrible circumstances. 

You woke before dawn, pushing yourself out from a cold bed you’d barely slept in and hurried downstairs to collect your case and papers. However, the documents you needed were nowhere to be found. An icy chill clamped over you as you searched, knowing something wasn’t right. Had you left them with Celia in your haste? With only an hour to make it to the train station, you rushed out of the house to see her. However, you didn’t get far.

Arthur stood out front with John and Finn, papers in hand. “Going somewhere?” he asked in a conversational tone that belied his devilish intentions.

“Arthur…” you gulped. “What are you doing?”

“Could ask the same of you, love?” he said. “What’s all this, eh? Having a holiday without me?” he asked without a hint of amusement, shaking the papers he held in his hands. 

“I…I was going to tell you about that,” you lied.

“Were you now?” he asked thoughtfully, head turning from the papers to dig into his pocket for something which you quickly realized was a lighter. 

You ran toward him screaming “No!” with outstretched hand, as he set the papers ablaze before your very eyes, all hopes of a new life burning before you.

GIF credit @cinematv

“I had my eye on you since we was kids, Y/n. I said she will be mine and nothing will keep us apart,” Arthur said, crushing the papers in his gloved hand. “Nothing,” he reiterated as the ashes fell at his feet. John laughed as the embers of his cigar fell to the ground, joining the tattered remnants of your dignity. 

“We’ll have heaven here on Earth, my darling. Just need you to say yes,” Arthur proclaimed, reaching for your trembling hand. He pulled a ring from his pocket and slipped it onto your finger as you shook with fear. "Say yes to heaven," he whispered once more before you fainted.

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

Tag List:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

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@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

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@little-diable

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@emotionalcadaver

@moral-terpitude

@multifandomwriter56

@padfootdaredmetoo

@mythos-writes

@runnning-outof-time

#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Arthur Shelby fanfic #Arthur Shelby imagine #Arthur Shelby x you #Arthur Shelby x reader #Arthur Shelby x y/n

[nexysworld]

Guardian Angel 🖤 Part 4.1 🖤

Read on AO3 - Requests are Open - Masterlist Read Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | 4.1 | 4.2| 4.3 A/N: Thanks for the support and patience for this chapter. Tumblr wouldn't actually let me post it in one or even 2 parts no matter how I tried to split it, so it's split into three parts (though you can read it as one chapter on AO3.)

Chapter Summary: In a an attempt to get reader to open up to him, he starts giving in to a change of scenery and other requests for her. Leon even allows her a special friend before he leaves on a work mission, leaving the reader home alone for the first time.

🖤Pairing: Yandere!Leon/Fem!Reader 

🖤Tags (not all apply to all chapters): NSFW, Masturbation, Dubcon, Sex, Gaslighting, canon typical horror and gore descriptions, probably eventual kidnapping or kidnapping like behavior, use of pet names like bunny. Leon induces some PTSD like flashbacks on purpose, general things of that nature. Unwanted creampie, etc. Probably treat as dead dove. Inappropriate use of animal collar. This chapter contains sexual content. Threats of animal abuse (though none occurs and it's not descriptive.)

As always this was inspired by @hxllfiredoll 's story Something Permanent. If you like Yandere!Leon please go give that a read along with @dollrxst's story Lovesick and @gigabyte-flare's story There's no Escape. Also wanted to add @lipglossanon because I love their work and you should too. While not explicitly yandere! it's adjacent and their works are awesome.

Weeks passed by in a haze, Leon had to guide you from task to task like a well controlled sim. “Yes Sir’s” and “Ok Daddy’s” slipped from your lips habitually, never allowing your brain to focus on anything outside of that. It was the only coping mechanism you had now, as allowing a thought to cross your brain opened yourself up to feelings you were not capable of handling now. Your mind had failed you, so you didn’t need it.

The first week you woke with terrible nightmares, screaming, crying, clawing at nothing. Leon would grab your wrists and pin you down to the mattress before pulling you into a sensory hug, wrapping your arms around yourself, not letting go until your outburst stopped. Submitting to his strength surprisingly made you feel safe, despite all that had occurred. If there was one thing you were sure of, Leon wouldn’t let anything, well, besides himself, harm you. He’d coo at you, petting your hair. “It’s okay baby bunny, I got you. I got you. Nothing bad will happen to you while I’m here.” It was at least enough to lull you back to sleep. 

During the day it was a different story. The shadow man was always there. Always . Those red eyes watching you from every corner of the home, sometimes hiding in your peripheral vision. No matter what you did, he wouldn’t go away. Every day it felt like he was getting louder, closer . A constant reminder of someone who never existed - yet whenever you heard the voice your heart would pang with fear and guilt. Your only waking comfort was Jasper, winding through your legs before disappearing. Purring by you even when you didn’t see him. 

Leon kept insisting to you no one was there. You could tell he was getting more and more upset by the day. “What’s rule number 2 Sweetheart?” “Always listen to you?” “That’s right. Do you want to go back to timeout?” “Please, no.” “Then look me in the eyes and tell me no one is there.” “There’s no one there, Sir.” “You know it really hurts me Bunny. All I do is love you and take care of you, and you’re focused more on an imaginary friend.” He said, giving you a kiss. “I’m sorry Daddy, didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Thank you for being so good to me.” “Aww baby, you’re making my heart melt. I suppose I can forgive you.” He kissed you on the forehead and gave you a head pat. 

The last thing you wanted was to be in that basement again, alone and in the dark with your thoughts. Soon that’s when you realized if you closed off your mind, things were a little better. The paranoid fear and guilt instead turned to a resounding walled-off numbness and while the man didn’t go away, he returned to his spot in the corners making it easy for you to pretend he wasn’t there. Sadly, that meant Jasper went away too - you missed the cat’s presence. 

At first it seemed Leon was pleased that the talk of the man had stopped. However your zombie-esque behavior led to him being more overprotective, with a thinly veiled annoyance you didn’t care to think about. Not that you thought about much of anything anyway. 

Soon the entire house was baby-proofed. All the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen were locked so you couldn’t touch anything that might put you in danger. Toddler cutlery and adult sized sippy cups were all that was allotted for you still. If you’d been in the right state of mind it would've felt so embarrassing to be taken care of this way, right now though, you didn’t have enough fight left to care,living in only the most literal sense possible. 

You sat at the table, food slipping from the plastic spork for the umpteenth time before Leon would sigh and reach over, scooping up the food himself feeding it to you. “Poor baby, can’t even eat without me hmm?” 

You nodded softly while he dabbed excess food from your mouth with a napkin.

~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~ Leon hated this. For starters he was jealous, and he hated the feeling of jealousy. It burned in the pit of his stomach and twisted him at the core. The last time he felt jealous, he erased someone from this very plane of existence. But now, what was he going to do? You were so hung up on this red-eyed man that didn’t exist at all, and that damned imaginary cat. 

Couldn’t you see what you were doing to him? How unfair this was for him? You were ruining your chance at a perfect life together. All you needed to do was give him your attention, focus on him . Be a good girl - and yet here you were chasing shadows. 

There were brief times he felt guilty, he knew he’d pushed you hard in such a short amount of time. He wouldn’t lie even to himself, he had hoped to break you down further in the Bad Girl Room, but not this far and not so quickly. Leon was no psychologist but this was definitely a psychotic break if he’d ever seen one, and that was not his intention. He’d truly overestimated the capabilities inside that pretty little head of yours. He now had to work overtime to re-establish a comforting and safe environment for you. But hey, that’s what you do for the people you love.

It seemed all it took was a threat back to time out and you became so beautifully compliant. He lived for the moments he got to spend taking care of you. Slipping food past your lips while you fumbled with the too small spork, gently running a wash cloth along your body in the bath as you leaned back against him, dressing you in his oversized clothes, tucking you into your bed without a fight. 

You were gorgeous when you lazily batted those long eyelashes at him - like a human doll. Once asleep he’d lay there for hours just admiring you, taking in your familiar smell, playing with your hair, committing the feeling of skin to memory.

God it would’ve been perfect . After so much time pining after you, watching you, needing you. You were his very purpose in life after all, keeping you safe and closed off from harm was his number one goal - to an outsider it may have seemed like that’s what he had now - but that wasn’t true. He had your body. He had your compliance. But you weren’t there. Now a new type of jealousy boiled within him. He was jealous of you. Jealous that you kept all your thoughts to yourself. He wanted to hear your laughter again, feel you snuggle against him like you had when he first brought you here. What he wouldn’t give to hear you ask him about his day - actually talk to him in some capacity without being forced.  More than jealous he was insulted . Did you not think he was good enough anymore to share words with? How dare you think of yourself as above him when you couldn’t even care for yourself. No baby, no you clearly weren’t understanding your place. He had done all of this for you, you owed him your love and affection in return. He had been trying for a while with different enrichment activities to bring you out of your current state. After the first week he couldn’t take your nightmares anymore, they broke his heart, he’d started to drug your nighttime drink to help you get a more restful dreamless sleep thinking it would help. It didn’t, you slept but still woke up groggy with eye bags. It came to a head when he’d pulled you close to him on the couch for a movie night, you’d flopped over him like a ragdoll, but offered nothing else in return. He put what he knew was your favorite movie on. Dead silence . Not even a slight exhale out of your mouth during a funny part. 

Now he was frustrated. He was teetering the line between losing his temper, wanting to just shake you into compliance, make you know your place, and worrying that he would lose you completely if he did in your already broken state of mind. No - no he could fix this. You were his Bunny, a simple creature and not hard to outthink, there was just something he was missing. He’d let both his excitement and temper cloud his mind, something that rarely happened. After several hours of contemplation Leon was drawing a blank on what exactly he could do. Without a solid plan in mind he decided at the very least to change up your view a little bit - give you some outside time. Leon had implanted you with the tracker so he could keep watch of you around the entirety of the owned property. Eventually you’d be allowed to roam, but you weren’t at that level of trust yet, and given your current mental state he didn’t particularly want you outside at all - but this was his last ditch effort. “Hey pretty girl, what do you think about taking a walk with me?”

He watched you tilt your head like the question was in a foreign language. “Bunny, I asked if you would like to take a walk with me?” “Outside?” “That’s right baby, outside.” There was a slight change in your expression at the offer. Better than nothing, he’d take it. He helped you into a more appropriate outfit and shoes before guiding you out the door. He watched your timid steps as you walked around, everything so new again after the confines of the house. “Hey baby, we can go in any direction you want. Lead the way, I’ll hold your hand.” He gave your hand a gentle reassuring squeeze.

~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~ Outside felt wonderful . You’d forgotten what sunlight felt like against your skin, the warmth radiating throughout your body contrasted by the slight breeze blowing back and forth.  Leon had even let you wear a sundress instead of the usual tshirt and sweatpants of his. It swished when you walked, and for a few moments you felt normal. You felt like a person again. The only reminder of your captivity was the obnoxious collar around your neck. 

Outside had no corners, there was no man hiding anywhere, just fresh air and nature. Giddy . That was the best description you had for the moment, giddy. You walked with Leon through the back gate out into the plush grassy backyard. 

Not able to contain your excitement, you kicked your shoes off before taking off towards the middle of the yard. Leon wouldn’t be thrilled, but God, running, moving your muscles, feeling the grass between your toes. It was euphoric. You heard a displeased noise leave him as he came towards you, but you didn’t care at that moment. You removed your hair tie so the wind could properly blow it around, before closing your eyes and twirling in a circle giggling. God were you actually giggling? Yes you were . That’s how amazing it felt to be outside right now. 

Leon stopped just a short distance from you, when you opened your eyes to look at him, shock was written on his face which melted to a smile once he’d seen your laughter. You stopped to take in his form. The rays of light poked through the trees making his honey-blonde hair look even shinier than usual, his blue eyes looked beautiful against the contrasted green of the trees behind him. He looked so normal. For a brief fleeting moment you just saw Leon, your neighbor who’d been so kind to you before. You had to take a moment to remind yourself of who he really was. Maybe he can still be that Leon too though?

The idea was cut short as your head whipped to the side, hearing a noise in the distance. For a second you almost panicked thinking it was another hallucination, you didn’t want it to be, nothing would've ruined the outside experience more for you. And then there it was again, so soft and small. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what Bunny?” “Over there.” You pointed to the trees at the edge of the yard, grabbing his hand you gently tugged coaxing him to walk with you, but he stood like a statue. “No baby, not until you put your shoes back on.” “Please? The grass feels so good and I think it might go away if we don’t hurry.” Again he didn’t budge. “A little time outside and you’re already forgetting the rules? Maybe we should go back inside then.” His features cinched together into that hard authoritarian look. “No. No! I’m sorry. Look, I'm putting them on right now.” You slid your feet back into the slide sandals. “See?” You reached out for his hand again, this time he took yours and let you walk closer to where you wanted to investigate. Your eyes lit up when your suspicions were confirmed. Sitting underneath the tree was a small cat, all black, not Jasper - which meant it was likely real. It was older than a kitten but still too small to be an adult. You went to reach out a hand to coax it towards you but Leon pulled you back. “I don’t think so, Sweetheart. That thing could be feral, you have no idea it might be carrying. You can look, but stay back here with me.” Despite your disappointment in not being able to move forward, you were comforted to know the feline was in fact real. You observed the cat a little longer, it stretched from its spot and limped towards you, something was wrong with its back leg. It seemed so sweet letting out a soft mew, the closer it got you could see it was in bad condition, too thin. You felt an odd sense of heartbreak and when Leon went to pull you away you squeezed his hand softly. He could already see the cogs in your brain turning. “Bunny, no.” “Please? It’s not feral, it’s just hurt, it needs help.” The cat was sniffing at your feet now, purring despite its injuries. Leon didn’t seem swayed by your pleading or the state of the creature. “If I had a real one then you wouldn’t have to listen to me talk about an imaginary one. Please, you can’t make me leave him out here. I’m begging you.” Leon let go of your hand and you took the opportunity to bend down and pet the cat’s head. His fur was so soft, you couldn’t help the ear to ear smile that spread across your face when it rubbed into your touches. The cat moved over and nudged against Leon’s boot. “How can you say no to that little face?” You pouted, doing your best to give your saddest face, batting your eyelashes. “Bunny, don't look at me like that…” He sighed looking down at the creature. “Fine. Fine. But you’re not naming it until I take it to a vet to make sure it’s not diseased.” His words went through one ear and out the other, you couldn’t take the excitement as you flounced over and wrapped your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you Daddy, thank you so much.” 

~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~ 

Leon did not want the cat. He didn’t care if it had a clean bill of health or not. One more responsibility to take care of, one more thing to pull your attention from him…but then he saw that look on your face. God you were really pulling out all the stops to tug at his heart, not to mention the way you looked twirling around the yard. He can’t remember the last time he’d seen you that happy, prior to even bringing you here, it had been so special he hadn’t even stopped you from removing your shoes or running off. So of course he gave in to his little Bunny. He’d allow the cat, if only for your happiness, but then you had embraced him as thanks? Kissed him too? His heart nearly imploded by the willing show of affection. It was such a stark contrast to the lifeless husk you’d been.  He internally patted himself on the back for his decision to bring you outside today. 

He watched you scoop the little feline up in the skirt of your dress, so careful to not hurt it further, cooing and doting on it. Then it occurred to him . Yes baby, that’s exactly what you needed. Something to take care of, to be needed by . Why hadn’t he thought of that sooner?

This cat wouldn’t do though. No it was too broken, too needy, might take you too far away from him. But a cat would be perfect. That night he gave you an extra dose of your sleeping medication to make sure you’d be out for a long while, he left in the early morning hours after he packed the cat up in his Jeep, heading for town. 

~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~ 

You woke sluggishly in the middle of the afternoon. It was the first time in a long time that you can remember waking up without Leon already being there to greet you – and there was a small part of you that nearly panicked. The house was silent, too silent . After the excitement of the previous day you were feeling a little better, which meant you hadn’t closed your mind off. He was back again, red eyes glowering at you through the crack in the closet door. You swallowed thickly, wishing you hadn’t noticed. Your hands shook, knuckles white as you gripped the bedding. You remembered what Leon had said, nothing would happen to you as long as he was there , but he wasn’t there, and he didn’t even believe this thing existed. You gathered up all your courage before dropping your feet to the floor, running out of the room as fast as you could like a child running for their parents after a bad dream. 

As you trotted down the staircase, you heard the sound of the Jeep’s ignition being turned off. Practically plastering your face to the window, you watched as Leon pulled a pet carrier out of the side and your heart leapt. He’s here. You’re safe. He meant what he said about keeping the cat. Leon brought the carrier inside before exiting and returning with a few boxes of cat supplies.  “Hey baby, you just wake up?” “Yeah. You weren’t here.” You didn’t know why you felt the need to point that out to him. “Ah, sorry for not warning you. I took the cat to the vet as promised Sweetheart. Lucky for you they patched him up and gave him a clean bill of health, just a little scrawny. Here, let me get that for you so you don’t hurt yourself.” He said opening the carrier’s locks. The little black cat nervously peeked out and you gently stroked the fur on its head with two fingers. “Jesus what the hell is that?” You asked, looking at the giant robot thing Leon was putting together in the living room. Leon gave you a knowingly disappointed look. “Bunny, what’s rule number 3?” You had to actually think about it for a moment before replying, not being on auto-pilot after so many weeks was difficult. “Good girls don’t have potty mouths?” “That’s right.” “Sorry Sir. I meant to say, can you please tell me what that is?” “Litter-robot. Don’t want you having to put too much effort into scooping nor do I want the house smelling like a cat.” “Oh. High tech, I like it, thank you.” You looked down at the cat that crawled into your lap. Now that you were looking more closely, something was off. This cat was all black, but it definitely wasn’t the one from yesterday. Tiny details were off. Besides, the other one’s leg was hurt pretty badly, this one looked totally ok. Leon caught the look on your face. “What’s wrong?” “This isn’t… what did you do with the other cat?” “What other cat?” “The one from the yard. This isn’t it.” “Of course it is Sweetie.” “But what about the leg? This one looks completely fine when the other–” “They stitched him up, small stitches you can’t see because of the fur, it’s fine.” “But I remember he distinctly had 12 whiskers, this one has 10.” The second the words left your mouth you knew you should’ve just let it go. “Bunny, are you accusing me of something?” “No, I’m sorry – “ The shift in his mood was scary. “It’s pretty fucking ungrateful don’t you think? Weeks. For weeks I put up with your nonsense about glowing eyes and invisible cats. I even put up with your lack of affection. Despite that, I let you outside, I let you have the first pet you see, even drive it to a vet. I spend all this money on the stupid thing too and you accuse me of something? Daddy’s beyond hurt and mad .” You shivered at the look on his face, he fished the remote out of his pocket and you instantly grasped at the collar on your neck in fear. “No, no I’m sorry. I’m sorry.“ “I give an inch, you take a mile.” “Please, I was wrong. I’m wrong. It’s the same cat. I must have just been overly excited yesterday. Please. I’ll be good, I’m sorry.” Desperately you moved the cat off your lap and scrambled over towards him, gently putting your hand on his, lowering it along with the remote, before leaning forward and kissing him on the lips with a few quick pecks. “Really, I’m so happy about the cat. I’m sorry, please.” His anger seemed to soften with that, he brought one hand up to tighten in your hair, pulling you in for another kiss, this one deep, slow. He held you there an extra moment, resting his forehead on yours, eyes closed, taking in the situation. “Bunny, I think that taste of freedom has you acting a little out of whack. Don’t make me regret loosening the leash a little. One more, and I mean one more slip up and I’m either going to shock the piss out of you or put you back in timeout, got it?” “I understand. I’m so sorry Daddy. Really.” 

He kissed you on the cheek, letting you go so he could return to setting up the remainder of the cat items. Your heart slowly resumed its normal beat as you pulled the cat back onto your lap, stroking its fur to calm yourself down. The dull purr that it gave did put you at ease slightly. You decided to try and change the subject to something happier, something to ward off potential tears. “I thought of a name.” “Oh yeah, and what’s that?” “Lucipurr. Lucip for short.”

Leon let out a small laugh. “And here I thought I was the king of corny jokes.” Hearing him laugh felt good, rewarding to your spirit. It stirred memories of prior to all this , just like seeing him so sweetly in the sunshine. 

Maybe he hadn’t replaced the cat. Maybe you were just remembering wrong. Even if he had, was it really so bad? You still had Lucip on your lap purring up a storm, Leon skillfully putting the litter box and cat tree together. Everything felt so normal for once. Even the red eyed man was left upstairs in the closet, away from you. Out of sight, out of mind. Or more like the other way around in this case. There was nothing with you except Lucipurr, Leon, and the sunlight coming in through the windows. 

~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~ 

Despite the small tiff that started, he was beyond happy to see you coming out of your shell. God you were so beautiful when you smiled, and your lips felt like heaven crashing down on him. He knew he’d have to get a hold on himself so as not to let you off too easily in the future, you still had a lot to learn and get used to. Rules and discipline were important, but every now and then letting you off the hook a little wasn’t too bad. He was honestly just cheesed to see you smile again. Yeah he did replace the cat. The other was given to a vet to adopt out, he wasn’t a monster or one of those sick serial killers who torture fluffy pets for fun. What he hadn’t expected was you to notice so easily, he’d done his best to find an exact match. It didn’t matter now though, you seemed content with the one in your lap. Honestly, he’d snapped more out of annoyance of your perception than anything. You were so strange to him, he was always either over or under expecting from you. A unique creature for him to tame, but tame he would, and he felt so close to doing so. After all, an untamed animal was an unsafe animal. Over the course of several more weeks he kept a closer watch on you. No more talk of hallucinations. Excellent . You had actually asked him to watch a movie with you, three different times. Even better . Though he could have gone without you petting the cat the whole time, you were snuggled against him willingly. Everyday he’d take you on a walk just after breakfast and another small walk before bed too, earning him appreciative kisses.  

And tonight? Tonight he finally wanted to test this newly affectionate you. He craved you and wanted to see if you were really and truly opening up to him like he hoped. Sure he’d had you plenty of times while you slept, but it wasn’t the same. He shooed the cat out of the bedroom before closing the door. “Why’d you do that? Lucip sleeps in here–” “Because baby, I think you owe me.” He watched the puzzled look form on your beautiful features. “I’ve been so kind haven’t I? The cat, the outside trips. Not to mention the weeks I spent snuggling your panic attacks away every night.” There was always this small amount of panic that would cross your face when he interacted with or spoke about the cat. He committed it to memory knowing he held control over that. “You’re not going to get rid of him are you?” “Oh baby girl, not if you don’t give me a reason too. Are you going to give me a reason too?” When you shook your head, he walked towards the bed, pulling his shirt over his head while he did so. “Look what you do to me.” He cooed, rubbing the bulge that was already forming in his sweatpants. “Why so nervous Bunny, did I hurt you the last time?” “No, Sir. But –” “But what?” He raised a brow at your reaction, daring you to be careful with what came out next. “Last time you promised the morning after pill but then didn’t –” “Did I? Are you sure? I don’t remember that.” He brought his hand up to your face, rubbing your cheek. “You don’t wanna have Daddy’s baby, is that it?”

He watched your face closely testing your reaction. Your eyes darted around nervously while you fidgeted with the sleeves of the sweater you were wearing, he knew you were looking to find the answer that would appease him. Cute . “Don’t worry Bunny, we have plenty of time in the future for me to breed that little pussy. I’d rather enjoy us time for a while, unless you want me to fuck a baby into you - then I’d happily oblige.” He noticed your thighs squeezed together at his words despite your nerves, he slid his hand up one of your legs and leaned forward to lap at the shell of your ear. “C’mon baby, I’m just teasing. I’ve been tracking your cycle, you’re not going to get pregnant tonight, relax.” He kissed along your neck bringing your hand down and coaxed you to touch him through his pants. He sucked a particularly deep bruise into your neck before soothing the purpled spot by circling his tongue over it. “I’d be more comfortable with birth control or –” Your sputtered attempt at asking was adorable . “No Bunny, chemicals like that aren’t good for you. Trust me.” He continued working his way down your neck, letting out a small hiss with each rough touch of your palm against his clothed erection. “What’s rule 2 baby?” “Always listen to you, Daddy.” “Fuck, that’s right.” He bucked into your touch when your fingers wrapped around the outline of him instead of just the flat of your hand. Leon removed your hand from himself so he could more easily get your shirt off. A  man on a mission, he sucked deep purple marks into your skin, trailing them down from your neck to your clavicle, holding you in place while the map of marks continued over your stomach. He stopped only at your hip to give it a nip, causing you to jolt.

“So pretty. Purple is definitely your color princess.” He dipped two fingers between your folds, swiping your slick upwards and over your clit, relishing in the noise you made. “Look at that, seems your pussy agrees, she’s so happy she’s crying tears of joy.” He took a moment to eye you up and down, he brought the hand he wasn’t using to play with you up to your neck, tapping the collar lightly. “Hmmm. I think you’d be more comfortable with it off, yeah? I’ll tell you what. I’ll take it off, and if you’re a good girl for me, and I mean a really good girl for me, I’ll give you an even better one. Sound like a deal?” Leon reached into the pocket of his sweats and pulled out a little key, making quick work of the lock and releasing your neck from its confines. He gently rubbed the red marks it’d left on your skin before leaning down to capture your lips again, nibbling and sucking on your bottom lip before pulling away, leading you to sit up and follow him to the end of the bed. Tugging his pants down, he kicked them off to the side before giving his now freed cock a few good pumps. A bead of precum began to pearl at the tip before running down the shaft smearing with the movement of his fists. “Now, I’m going to trust you to be a really good girl. No biting alright?” He pressed the tip against your plus lips, rubbing it back and forth slightly until they were coated in his precum, before he pressed against them urging you to open. He moaned as you accepted him into your mouth. “Fuck, Bunny, just like that.” He held your hair and pushed himself until he was at the back of your throat and held you there. Your tongue hung out, spit spilling down the sides of your face, eyes watering. You looked gorgeous. Right when you were on the cusp of lifting your hands to signal it was too much he pulled out, letting you gasp for air. “Sorry baby, maybe that was a little too much to start. Here, why don’t you play with it for a little however you’re comfortable – I can train your throat another time.” He gave you a moment to catch your breath before encouraging more action.  

He hissed when you leaned forward to place a kiss on the tip before lapping at it, he was about to lecture you for teasing, when you swallowed him back into your mouth and began to bob your head shallowly, using your hand to grab what wasn’t fitting. “Good girl. You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” Every now and then he couldn’t stop himself from bucking forwards, throwing you off your pace and gagging slightly. When he was close, he grabbed at your hair and tugged you off with a resounding pop, moving positions so he was propped up at the headboard, urging you to crawl back over to him. “Come ride me baby.” He helped you position yourself on top of him, guiding you down onto his thick length until he was bottomed out in your leaky cunt. “So good . I’ll never get used to how your needy pussy just swallows me up.” Leaning back, he put both hands behind his head to relax, allowing you to grip onto his shoulders as you bounced up and down causing obscene squelching noises. “That’s right baby you make Daddy feel so good. Show me how grateful you are for how daddy takes care of you.” Your tongue hung out of your mouth as you concentrated on your movements, the sweet whimpers you made as you slid along his shaft sounded throughout the room like his own personal symphony. “That’s it, god you ride me so well.” He let you go at your own pace, once he noticed you were tiring out opting to rock your hips vs bouncing he decided to help. “Here baby, let me do the rest.” He reached up and grabbed both hips with his strong hands. “Use one hand to hold yourself up. Yep just like that. Now take that hand and touch yourself f’me. Can you do that, baby?” Once you were situated how he wanted you, he easily lifted you up by your hips and brought you back down. His years of strength training made it easy for him to slide you up and down his cock like a personal fleshlight.  For the first time he heard you squeak out words, almost incomprehensible with the way your head was thrown back while you lazily rubbed at your clit. “Daddy, I’m so close –” “Atta girl, go ahead baby..” He picked up his speed bringing his hips to slam up each time he pulled you down, groaning when your orgasm soaked everything beneath you as the muscles of your cunt milked the cum out of him. He groaned and spilled into you, slowing down as he rode his orgasm out. 

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x y/n #yandere! leon kennedy #yandere!leon kennedy #yandere leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil 4 #resident evil 4 remake #re4r #re4r leon #fanfiction #resident evil fanfiction #reader insert #fem!reader #female reader #Guardian Angel Fic #Nexys #Leon Kennedy #Leon S Kennedy

[skyfallslayer]

The Darkness In Me || Story 1: The (Wo)Man Without Fear

-Kingpin!Matt Murdock x Vigilante!Reader-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🖤 Series Summary: You were shocked to find out your childhood friend turned out to be the Kingpin of the underworld, but you had to put those thoughts aside to bring him down. You were Hell’s Kitchen vigilante, its protector. There's no valid reason not to stop him. However, when your hidden feelings for him start to surface once more, how will you be able to even think about bringing him down?

🖤 Story Summary: After all these years away, you’re finally relocated back to Hell’s Kitchen, the place where you were born, a place filled with happy memories. However, the city is not what you remembered, and when your job as a detective is not enough to save it, you might have to become something more.

🖤 Date: 8/8/23

🖤 Rating: Mature

🖤 Word Count: 5,162 (Consider this an introduction)

🖤 Warning: Blood; Alcohol Consumption; Small Reference to Past Abuse; Small Reference to PTSD; Domestic Abuse (not towards Reader!); Heavy Language; Mental Breaking Point; Brief Talk of Death/Dying. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

🖤 A/N: Matt's unfortunately not in this first story, but he is mentioned repeatedly! This first story's kind of introduction to what the reader is and how HK brings the darkness out in everyone. I will say this though, pay attention to some detail because I will be doing some call backs to them throughout the series 'cause they'll be handy. I promise! Also, the reader in this story does have special abilities that you'll have to try to piece together (because I'm evil like that. Lol). Other than that, Enjoy! And let me know if I miss any kind of warnings :)

You had down your third beer in one sitting before slamming it on the counter and heavily sighing. Your coworker, or should you say ex-coworker, watched you bittersweetly for the stool next to you.

“Take it easy, L/N. I don’t want to have to drag you back home.” Max, who was also your partner in the force, said in his usual kind voice.

“What home?” You reply, waving to the bartender for another beer. “I don’t have a home anymore here, remember?”

“It’s just a figure of speech.” He frowns, worriedly. “You really that upset about moving?”

“Well, fuck yes!” You pound your fist into the counter. “I screwed up on the tiniest thing ever and I’m relocated!” You grabbed the beer that was placed in front of you. “Relocated on the other side of the country.”

This unfortunately was true; You had accidently messed something up during an important case, something that was deemed extremely small compared to everything else and your police chief still punished you. You sigh again, taking a long swig.

“Hey, at least it wasn’t like you were demoted.” Max pointed out on the bright side. “Maybe this is a good thing. Didn’t you tell me once you used to live in New York?”

You nod, slowly, painfully. “Born and pretty much raised there until eight because of my parents passing.” You’re frowned with a hint of bitterness. “Then I moved out here with my good for nothing Aunt.”

Such a pain in the ass. You cursed and took another swig.

His concern deepens. “Okay, maybe stop with the beer.”

You roll your (Y/E/C) eyes. “Ah, I’ll burn it off. Alcohol doesn’t work on me.”

“Alcohol works on everyone.”

“Yeah, but not me.” Your metabolism was too fast to get a buzz. You sigh one last time, before putting a smile on your face. “Alright. Come on, partner–” You pat him on the back. “Let’s have a little fun. It’s my last night here.”

Max seemed hesitant at first before coping your expression. He chuckles and raises his glass. “Alrighty, then. To partners in crime.”

“To partners in crime.” You repeat and clink your beverages together. And before you know it…

You’re dragging him back to his house, apologizing to his wife for his drunkenness.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The sound of the key unlocking the front door was all you were focused on until it swooped open. You stare inside as your new landlord sidesteps to give you a better view.

“Here she is.” He said as you walked in, looking around. The place was small, you expected nothing less than a New York apartment; It consisted with a decent size kitchen, living/dining area, and a bedroom with a full size bathroom. There were a few cosmetic things that could be fixed down the road but it didn’t look too bad.

“Is everything to your liking, Miss?” He asked, with a nervous tone as you nodded.

“Yeah, everything looks fine.” You reply with a small smile. You were glad that you didn’t pack too much. “Uh, Mr. Gale–” You look at him. “The moving truck should be here tomorrow. Do I… need to do anything special? Like letting you know, or…”

He shook his head. “No. As long as you know them, I don’t really care who comes in and out of here. I just need you to pay your rent on time.”

You chuckle lightly. “Will do.”

He hums and starts to leave; but not before handing over the key. “If you need anything else, you know where to find me.” 

“Thank you.” 

Once he leaves you set your purse down on the kitchen counter, and roll your suitcase into the bedroom before taking a deeper look around. Everything seemed to be clean and intact. 

Good. The last thing I need is my new home to be falling apart. You stopped to gaze out your living area window, one that gazes upon the main road and other apartments nearby. 

This kind of reminds me of my old apartment. The only place you and your parents lived in before they passed. Not in the safest of areas (not like Hell’s Kitchen had many places like that), but you still called it home. But you’ll admit that the level above yours was much nicer that made you a bit green. But that color would fade every time you met up with him. The boy just a year older (and a bit taller) than you. 

Your friend. 

Your best friend you considered once. 

Your eyes fell to the sidewalk below, nostalgia running deep.

.

.

“Come On, Y/N! I’ll race you to the bodega.” He would tease and break off into a run, laughing like the child he was.

You would always puff out your chest in annoyance, but ended up always flustered by him. “Murdock, you dummy! I’ll get you for that!!”

And sometimes you would. Sometimes you wouldn’t. Sometimes you let him win because it made your heart flutter with joy.

.

.

You smiled bittersweetly at the memory, before feeling your soul completely ache. Your friend, he never… he never…

He never wrote me back. And that was the depressing truth. 

When you had to up and leave to live with your aunt, you and him would stay in touch by being each others’ pen pals. You guys would write pretty much every week, and if your aunt allowed it, you would give each other a call. But then one day… it all stopped. No more letters or phone calls. Just complete silence. It was like he just suddenly disappeared without a trace. It was…

Bizarre.

I wonder what ever happen to him? A part of you wants to know but then another part of you wonders…

.

.

.

Is it worth opening Pandora’s box?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The following day you find yourself catching your new badge as  it was flung in your direction, as the officer who’s being your “tour guide” walks sluggishly in front of you.

He waves his hand nonchalantly at you as he starts to speak. “We’ll get you fitted with a new gun later on, Miss…?” 

You tried not to eye roll as you repeated your name once again. “L/N.”

“L/N. Right.” He claps his hands together. “Okay. Uh, well… I don’t know what it was like in San Francisco for you, but I doubt it’s like anything you’re ever going to deal with here.”

You tilt your head, confused. “What do you mean?” You asked, and you followed him through a crowd of busy people in blue and business suits (who gave zero shits about trying to move out of the way as you passed). 

Seriously, we can’t just sit down and talk for a min–

He sighs loudly. “Listen, kid–”

“Kid? Where about the same–”

“New York, especially Hell’s Kitchen, is a whole other ballgame. There’s even a rumor that crime was born here, which I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s true.”

You found yourself frowning, putting your annoyance on pause (or at least pausing to feel him/the place out). “That bad, huh?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “So whatever you do, watch your back, because even with a partner, you’re on your own.” He explained, as he entered the office area. “Speaking of which… Hey, Grimm!” 

A young looking lad looks up from his paperwork. “Yeah?”

“The new detective’s here.” He jerks his thumb in your direction. “Is Castle in at all?” 

Grimm scoffs. “When is Castle ever in?” He looks away. “Haven’t seen him since Tuesday.”

And… it’s Thursday. You thought, already getting a sour taste in your mouth.

“Let me guess–” You cross your arms and speak the truth you see in front of you. “He’s my new partner?”

“Captain Frank Castle. Ex-Marine turned Cop. He’s–”

“He’s a loose cannon.” Grimm shouts back, getting a dirty look.

“Officer Grimm!”

“What?” The young lad shrugs. “It’s true.”

Your frown deepens, the irritation you’ve been showing on and off your face all morning is starting to give you wrinkles. “So… a loose cannon?” You said, truly couldn’t believe what you were hearing. 

He sighs. “He is, but he knows his shit. You’ll learn a lot from him… when he actually shows up.” He mumbled the last part as he started walking again. He soon starts pointing around as he speaks. “You’re desk’s over here, use it as you please. Castle’s is across from you. Our murder board is over there for all our ‘bigger’ crimes, and next to it is our most wanted.”

You stopped in front of the board, curiosity peaked. Your eyes scanned to the first one. “Who’s Quentin Beck?” You asked, never hearing that name before.

“Quentin Beck, used to be a normal guy who owned a carnival in the park. Everything seemed fine until we got reports of people complaining about some… strange things happening. Turns out, on his main attraction, he was using drugs that induce peoples’ fears for them to stay longer. Or… forcibly making them stay longer.”

You nearly got a chill from listening to that. “Freaky. What happened to him? You obviously didn’t catch him.”

“Disappeared when we went in for an arrest. But we didn’t get any reports that he’s left the city or this country. So, who knows if he’s even still here.” A sarcastic smug tugged on his lips. “But hey, you’re a detective, maybe you’ll bring him in.”

You tried to hold your tongue, as you narrowed your eyes. “We’ll just have to see, won’t we, Officer?”

He seemed to not like your tone as you could see his jaw clenches. “Armory’s towards the back. Help yourself.” He said with a bit of a bite, and then left.

Asshole. You wiped your expression clean as you looked back at the board. So many names and so many faces to memorize. Yet, There were some… questionable people the police were supposed to take down. 

Sure there were some scary looking ones like Sergi Kravinoff, or Adrian Toomes. Then there were others that didn’t quite look menacing, like Jefferson Davis, or someone they just dubbed “Black Cat”.

Black cat? You must have had a puzzled look on your face because Officer Grimm suddenly appeared next to you to answer all your questions.

“She may not look like much, but she’s a master thief. She’s stolen a lot of goods around the whole city.” He explains, holding out an extra cup of coffee. “Goods that are damn near irreplaceable.”

“Thanks.” You said, taking a sip of the lukewarm beverage. “So she’s hard to catch?”

“Extremely. She always slips through our fingers somehow.”

“Well that sucks.” Your eyes studied the bored again, thinking. “This city has a lot more crime than I remember.” Or maybe you just didn’t see it because you were so young, which was a strong possibility. I mean you were only eight when you were forced to live somewhere else.

The next thing you said you only could wish it fell on death’s ears as you chuckle, jokingly. “There’s so much crime here, I’m starting to think there’s a kingpin running the show–”

Grimm’s hand suddenly latched onto your wrist, pulling you to his level. “Do not say his name.” He hissed, scared as his eyes were blown wide.

Out of surprise, yours did too. “W-What?”

“Do not say his name. Do not question him.”

“Q-Question who? I was just joking.” 

It was just a joke. Why does he look so terrified? You wondered as he seems to be recollecting himself, but he shows no signs of letting you go just yet.

You look between your wrist and his eyes, trying to keep the shakiness out of your voice. “Officer Grimm, do you think you could–”

“Listen, Detective.” He whispers, harshly. “In this city, we do things differently. And if you want any fucking chance at surviving, I suggest you follow the program. Do as you’re told, and don’t ever speak his name again. You hear me?”

You find yourself nodding out of fear, which seemed good enough for him as he finally lets go of you and walks away. You hold your bruised wrist close to you as you look away from his direction.

What in the hell– You look at the board again, looking at it in a new light.

.

.

.

What in the hell was that all about?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The rest of the work day you felt like if you didn’t tread water, you were going to drown. You had to watch what you say, what you did. You felt like if you did something wrong you’d get a dagger in your back or a bag over your head. You felt like you were a step away from the guillotine. 

It made you nauseous to think about it, just enough to chew on your fingernails the whole cab ride home.

This is a fucking police department. I shouldn’t feel unsafe. 

Never in your almost nine year career had you felt unsafe in your own job (and you worked in one of the most crime ridden cities out there). Now it was almost scary to even breathe without the thought of getting another scare from Officer Grimm. 

Jesus. How the fuck am I going to even do this? You let out a sigh as you fiddled with your keys. 

And what was he so afraid of? Who was he afraid of? Or was he just… overreacting? You can only hope he was as you finally reached the top of the stairs and started heading down the hallway towards your apartment; But that’s when you heard it (or really anyone should have heard it).

A harsh slap to the face and someone yelping in surprise. 

You faltered your movements almost straight away to listen, and you noticed someone’s cries -a woman’s- and a man speaking in harsh whispers in the apartment you stopped next to. You heard some… interesting threats that set off your “detective senses”. Putting on an emotionless mask and tucking away your keys, you marched to the door and knocked loudly like you were on a house call. You immediately heard everything grow quiet inside before someone was stomping towards the door, throwing it open like they were being bothered. 

“What the fuck do you want?” The man, you say mid-30s, snapped at you with cold eyes.

Really cold eyes. They kind of remind you of…

“Thought I’d stop by and say ‘Hi’. I’m your new neighbour down the hall.” You reply, staring him dead in the face (and tucked away the creeping memory that was starting to flash before you).

He scoffs. “And?”

Without even blinking you flash your badge towards him, watching the color drain from his face. “I work with one of the HK police departments. I was coming back home when I heard something alarming. Thought I’d make sure everything was okay.” You explain, as he swallows and your eyes trail past his shoulders to a woman whose face was lingering with bruises of every color in the rainbow. “Is she okay?”

“Her?” He laughs nervously. “She’s fine. My wife’s a klutz. She was cleaning out our closet when a couple things came flying off the shelf. You know how that is. Right?”

His lie made you mentally raise an eyebrow.

Seriously, that’s the best you could come up with? You almost laughed in his face, but you had to stay professional (bit seriously, he couldn’t give you the overused excuse that she was hit by a door?).

You looked back at the wife, replying, “Is that all true, Ma’am?” You hoped that she could see that you wanted to help, that you could help. You hoped she could see the worriedness and empathy you had in your orbs. The tiny shine that gave off the word ‘beg’. 

Just say yes. Just say yes I can arrest his fucking–

She shook her head too quickly. “Y-yes. I-It’s all true. I need to be more careful.” She said, and tried to smile reassuringly (it looked so painful to even do so).

“See? She’s fine.” The husband said, all smug once more. “Thank you for your concern, but everything seems good here.”

He slams the door in your face, and he acts like you weren’t even there because he started the same shenanigans again. You find yourself clenching your fists in a way your fingernails dug into your skin (Those familiar crescent moons will surely appear tomorrow).

You clenched your own jaw, gritting your teeth and your veins grew hot. 

I can do it. You felt your blood boil/bubble, and your fingertips getting coated in a red dust; Your eyes starting to turn the same shade of cherry.

I’ve got the abilities. I’ve got the strength to break down this door. I can just… But you let yourself trail off as realization sets in.

You can’t. 

You can’t be the hero in this.

You can’t risk exposing yourself again.

You can’t be the thing that you were born as.

And you fucking hated that. 

You take a deep breath, the ones that are long and you feel the chill in your lungs. Your blood settled, the haze disappearing, the light disappearing from your pupils. When you felt and looked normal, you fished out your keys again as you forced yourself to turn a blind eye on that monster’s home.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

After checking out a café near your place, you immediately dove into your work. Since your partner seemed absent again, and nobody else seemed to want to give you any pointers, you were forced to do things on your own, to find things to keep you preoccupied for your shift. Deciding it would be the best to refamiliarize yourself with your surroundings (Since you’ve been gone for… what? Twenty years now?). You start flipping through some folders that were “hot spots” for crime. After a couple, one of them caught your eye.

An old abandoned carnival called: The Cursed Carnival of Mysterio. And who was the owner? Well that was–

Quinten Beck? You pinch your brows together in confusion. This was… interesting. 

Quinten Beck, age unknown, is still residing on the property but hasn’t been seen since– What? Now you’re even more confused. Didn’t the officer yesterday tell you something completely different? Didn’t he say that Beck hasn’t been seen in years?

You shake your head and keep reading.

Hasn’t been seen since last month with his usual meeting with Dr. Curt Connors, talking over their deal with hallucination drugs– What the fuck? Now this really wasn’t making any sense. Why would someone write this down about a criminal and not do anything? 

Shouldn’t someone have stopped this guy already if they know he’s still here? And who is Dr. Connors? You bite your thumb as you thought all of this over, trying to see if you could make any sense over this. But everything you came up with fell short. It just didn’t make any fucking sense.

Maybe… Dr. Connors is like an undercover agent? Maybe they’re waiting on getting some intel before going after Beck? That seemed like a possibility (And one you were secretly wishing was true).

I’ve got to see who this guy is. You swerve your chair to the right to get closer to your monitor, quickly loading the database. However, just as you type in his name and click enter, your screen went completely black; and you could see why. In the corner of your eye, you saw one of your coworkers had unplugged the computer like it was nothing.

You cocked your head in their direction, disbelief resting on your features.

What in the actual fu–

“It’s probably for the best if you don’t look him up.” Grimm’s voice broke through as he was suddenly standing beside you. He had the most innocent look on his face, almost like he didn’t realize what just occurred. He gives you a reassuring gaze and replies, “Dr. Connors is… nobody to worry about.”

The façade you so desperately always keep on while on the job suddenly chipped away, your anger (and a sense of betrayal) started to seep in very clearly. 

That was your cross to bear. Your hotheadedness was something you always had to keep in check, which you always managed to do. But on some occasions it would slip out without even noticing.

Kind of like right now.

You were a snake that had set its eyes on its prey.

You stand up slowly, menacingly, as you lock eyes with him. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, low and cold that made his face twitch as soon as you spoke.

“W-Wh-What?” Grimm slurred, thrown off by your sudden mood change.

“I said, what’s that supposed to mean? Why shouldn’t I worry about Dr. Connors? If there really isn’t nothing, then why the fuck did my colleague over here just unplug my computer? Couldn’t you have come up to me and said something instead?” You seemed to have backed him in a corner as he paled under your intense gaze.

“W-Well… y-you seem pretty headstrong with your job, I’m sure you would have kept looking despite what we say.” He replies which was the dumbest fucking excuse you’ve ever heard (Seriously, what’s with these damn excuse all of a sudden?). 

You felt your blood starting to spike like yesterday, but you had enough control to keep your energy in check, but you couldn’t say the same thing for the venom that was trickling off your tongue into your words.

“And so what if I kept looking? Huh?” You jerk your thumb towards yourself. “I’m a detective. Even if they seem innocent it’s my job to look at even the tiniest of details until I rule them out as innocent.” Your voice starts to grow louder, turning a few heads but you didn’t care. “So what’s so wrong about me looking into this guy?”

It took his silence and a look of fear on his face to finally put the pieces together. Your state of incertitude last night had suddenly cleared like a crystal.

“Oh… I see now.” You said, a laugh was on the end of your tongue as you looked at him in bewilderment/surprise. “Let me make a guess–” You raised an eyebrow. “Am I not following ‘the program’ you spoke of?”

The whole room immediately froze and stared at you like a circus freak. Grimm paled some more as you scoffed at their reaction.

“Really?” You said, in disbelief. “You’re all taking orders from an outside source? Someone who isn’t our Commander?” Another scoff. “Oh, and let me fucking guess who that could be! Is it that Kingpin guy I was joking about yesterday?”

“Lieutenant, don’t say his name.” Grimm said, worriedly shaking his head.

“Or what? If I say it three times does he just fucking appear out of thin air? Why the fuck do we have someone using us and criminals as fucking puppets? Explain how that happened?!”

He waves his hands in defense. “Okay, okay! We will! But–” He swallows. “You’ve got to calm down first. Then once you accept the rules to the program, you can–”

“I’m not accepting whatever rules there are.” You snapped, shaking your own hand. “I’m not going to have someone other than my superior tell me what I’m supposed to do.”

“Lieutenant, if you don’t follow the rules there will be consequences. You could lose your own life, you could–”

“I’m a cop. The possibility of losing my life comes with it.”

“B-But this is different! This guy’s not someone you should mess with!”

“Then, you–” You jab your finger into his chest before waving it around. “Or anyone in this fucking room can tell this ‘Kingpin’ that if he wants me to join his little program, he’ll have to tell me himself. Face-to-fucking-face.” 

You snagged your belongings off your desk and stormed out of the office, never looking back.

Never looked back to them shaking to their core.

Never looked back as they mumbled with terror.

Never looked back as they crawled under their desk to hide.

Never looked back…

At the fucking mess you had been placed in.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

You wanted to scream. 

Or maybe you did when you decided to walk home instead of a taxi to… ‘cool your head’. In fact, all that thinking might have made your mood worse. The fact that everyone in that precinct was under some guy’s thumb said it all. How were you supposed to do your job if you couldn’t do it? Who was this guy that wasn’t even allowing anybody to catch extremely dangerous criminals?

Kingpin or not, I’m not falling under your thumb. 

You enter your apartment building, walking up the stairs to the next floor when you spot your ‘lovely’ neighbour coming down with a new pep in his step, phone up by his ear.

“-on my way – Yeah – Oh, yeah. It’ll be great.” He talks loudly, nearly plowing you over as you pass.

And when he did something…

Clicked inside you.

You pause on the steps, glancing back as your neighbour starts leaving. You frown and find yourself coming up with an idea that was either the best idea ever…

Or the most treacherous one yet.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Your neighbour and his friends laughed as they flickered their cigarettes off the rooftop, landing somewhere unknown below. It was like three men reliving their teenage years. Which wouldn’t be a bad thing if your neighbour wasn’t such a shitty husband.

“Hey, man, we’re going to get more beers.” One of his friends said as they started backtracking to the door to the bar below.

“Sounds good.” Your neighbour said, lighting another bud.

The door closes, leaving him utterly alone in the dark of the night, basking in the full moon’s light. He takes a long puff from his cigarette, blowing it into the warm air, completely oblivious that you were suddenly behind him like the grim reaper.

“So this is what you do in your free time.” You said, making your voice sound deeper and lower.

He turned around quickly, finding you in head to toe black, only your eyes were exposed. He cocked his head to the side, not even showing any kind of surprise or shock. “Who the hell are you? And how’d you get up here without me hearing?”

“I’ll give you a choice. Turn yourself in or I’ll use force.” 

He scoffs. “For what?”

“For assaulting your wife.”

His face falls before swiftly turning into anger. “What the fuck are you talking about? With what proof?” You stayed silent which got him even more riled up. “Listen, whoever the fuck you are, you need to be on your merry way.”

And as soon as his hand clasped your shoulder you took a swing, which you’ll admit… you’re out of practice; Because before you know it, he’s elbowed you in the stomach before grabbing onto the back of your hoodie, and–

Pushes you off the roof.

His eyes suddenly widened at what he just did, and took a step back from the ‘crime scene’. “Oh, my god…” He covers his mouth. “Oh, my god… I just…” He shakes his head. “No. He attacked me first. This was self defense. They’ll have to believe me, they’ll–”

And then all the color seemed to drain from his body.

You were suddenly in front of him, feet nowhere near the ledge/floor of the roof.

You stare down at him, eyes starting to glow a reddish hue.

He stumbles back on the balls of his feet, trembling under your gaze. “W-W-What a-are you?” He cried, lip quivering. “H-How are you flo–”

You leaped at him before he could finish, tackling him to the ground, straddling his waist before you let loose. The anger you kept in check came undone as you struck him with your fists over, and over, and over, and over again. You struck him until his face was covered in bruises and painted in red; And you didn’t stop until you heard the satisfying crack in his nose. 

You grab him by the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. “If you ever hurt your wife again… I will fucking know.” You hissed through your teeth before knocking him out cold.

And then it was quiet.

Besides your heart was in your ears it was still quiet.

You were panting almost silent as your adrenaline started to cease.

You could feel his blood on your face through your makeshift mask.

You could feel your fingers almost aching for more.

It felt…

Strangely satisfying. 

Oddly.

Greatly.

Satisfying.

And when his friends finally arrived, you were already on the other side of the street, watching in the shadows as they frantically started calling for an ambulance. 

It shouldn’t feel good, but you did. Even as his blood coated your hands like an ointment, it didn’t feel as bad as it should. But you were a detective, a cop, you were supposed to stop the bad guys. Did it matter that you weren’t in uniform this time? Should it matter?

.

.

.

…And should you feel bad?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The sound of someone knocking on your door woke you up early the next morning. You grumbled in your state of exhaustion, wondering if someone from your job was coming to get you. 

Fuckers. Just go away. You tried turning to a new position, shutting your eyes tighter as they knocked again.

And then again.

And again.

And again.

And–

You groaned as you sat up, grabbing your bathrobe off your chair to cover your nude form. “I’m coming!” You announced, before yawning. “This better be good…” You walked up to the peephole, taken back by the fact that no one was actually there. “What?”

You take off the deadbolt and unlock the door, poking your head out into your hallway. 

Nothing. Nobody in sight.

When you were about to call yourself crazy you spotted something on your fuzzy doormat. In surprise, you found yourself staring at a beautifully decorated vase filled with brightly colored, freshly cut red roses.

“Flowers?” You said, bending down to carefully pick it up, examining it. You just wanted to make sure there wasn’t some sort of trap (you had plenty of those in your career).

They seemed normal but the number of them was odd.

Nine.

Nine means that the person who gifted them to you wants to signify eternal love and show that you want to spend the rest of your life with you.

Now that was really stumping you, especially when you spotted a card that was no help at all. On the simple, white, rectangular card was neat cursive handwriting that said:

‘Welcome Back.’

Welcome back? You look around again making absolutely sure that you didn’t miss anything or anyone. You continued to see nothing again.

You found yourself staring at the card again, wondering:

.

.

.

What the hell is going on?

(TBC)

-Taglist Is Open-

@utterlynuts @etanordoesbullsh1t @mattmurdocksstarlight @l3xiluve @lunaticgurly @margoo0 @swift-enchanted @athenniene

@up-in-space-reading @itwasthereaminuteago

#skyfallwrites #my fanfic writing #marvel fanfiction #mcu daredevil #daredevil #kingpin #kingpin matt murdock #matt murderdock #dark matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x vigilante reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x female reader #dark fic #marvel smut #mike murdock #earth 65 #spider-gwen comics #maximoff reader #matt murdock x maximoff reader #enhanced reader #Matt Murdock x enhanced reader

[springdandelixn]

This gif speaks for it’s self….

Imagine dark lee with reader. And Lee being a big mean belly baddy saying “you’re amazing, really. but i love them. not you.” 🫦

No One Special

Summary: You were never special to Lee. To him, you were simply one of them.

Warnings: noncon undertones, cheating, unwanted touching, hurt, and no comfort, physical abuse, Lee is a mean bastard.

Characters: Dark!Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

A/N: Thank you for this request, Bubba. My love for this belly daddy is truly through the roof and it was such a pleasure to finally explore his character. I hope you like it!

A drabble this may be, your feedback is highly appreciated. Likes are great but reblogs would be amazing! I hope you guys enjoy!💙

Your eyes begin to burn with tears as you stare from across the street. 

You were going all over town just to look for him, even putting on a brave face when you headed to the station, asking his whereabouts from the other officers and looking at them in confusion when they simply chuckled and looked at you in amusement. 

“Sheriff ain’t here, lil’ missy.” Officer Thompson said, a playful grin on his face as he looked up at you from where he sat. 

“Left about an hour ago.” Another deputy added. “Probably at Ler—” 

He stopped when Officer Thompson elbows him in the stomach, annoyance on his face as he glared at the deputy. He didn’t have to finish his sentence for you to know what he meant. You just hoped that he was wrong, that they were simply messing with you. He wouldn’t be hanging around that place, he doesn’t even patrol that route; he told you himself. But the way they smiled at you sent a terrible feeling down your gut. 

But they were right.

You watch as his eyes close in sheer bliss, Lorianne’s hand out of view and her eyes darting down at his lap. You already know what she was doing to him for you’ve done it so many times before. It’s what he taught you when he first invited you to ride in his cruiser, how to properly aim in the Pepsi cup so as to not make a mess of the seat. 

You want to flee, to hide from the man you thought saw you as someone special since you were the only girl he rode around town with. Openly showing everyone who owns you and who owns him. But seeing him now, pleasure painting his face as his shoulders heave from the heaviness of his breath, all you can think is how much he’s been lying to your face. That you even start to wonder how many of Leroy’s girls he brings into his car at night just to do what Lorianne was doing. 

A gasp escapes your lips when you catch Lee’s eyes on you, shock radiating through his face that slowly shifts into amusement. He smirks, his arm around Lorianne tightening as he pulls her closer. You watch her try to kiss him but he only shifts his face away, her lips pressing against his cheek instead as his mouth drops open and his eyes shut tight once again. You don’t stay to see how their coupling ends and turn away to head back home.  

Along with the spring chill that howls through the night, you hear the shatter of your heart in your chest. The sheriff you knew and have come to love is not who you thought him to be. You were made a fool and you don’t doubt the other officers and girls of Leroy’s bar know what a fool he’s made of you. 

“You alright?” Your brother asks when you get home and just give him a nod. 

He doesn’t ask any more questions though you don’t doubt that he knows you’re upset. He bids you good night when you run up to your room, whispering one back that he cannot hear. The door slams and the tears fall instantly from your eyes, your body shaking as the pain runs through your veins. 

Fuck you, Lee Bodecker! Fuck you!

You wipe the tears away. You won’t cry for that asshole, even if he’s the law around these parts. You won’t let him step on you and continue making you look like an idiot for the whole town to laugh at. Yes, you’ll show him! Tomorrow, as the morning comes, you’ll march right up the station and show him that you aren’t one to play with. 

-

You stir from your sleep when you feel a tingling sensation run up your thigh. You move your hand to grab your blanket, wanting to shield yourself from the chill that you think is brushing against your skin. But your eyes open wide, the sleep leaving you all at once when the blanket is tugged away, leaving you exposed in only your night dress on the bed. 

The hand returns to your thigh and you sit up, startled when you see Lee kneeling on your bed. There’s a playful smirk on his lips as he continues to push his hand underneath your nightdress. 

“What are you doing here, Lee?” You say in a rush, your throat raspy from sleep and your hand pressing down on his to stop him. “How’d you get in?”

“Aron let me in.” He says sweetly, eyes trailing down your body before meeting yours. “And seein’ as you were upset when you stormed off earlier, I thought I’d pay my girl a visit.” He grins, his hand flicking yours away before continuing his trail and stopping at the curve of your ass, squeezing. “Make ya feel good.” 

The sound of pain rings through your room as you slap your hand across his cheek. He’s shocked and so are you, his body still yet his breathing heavy. But you waste no time leaping from your bed when his nose flare and he snarls in anger. 

“Fuck you, Lee!” You spit as you stomp to the door but before you can even open it, the air is knocked out of your lungs as he pushes you against it. “Lee!” You groan, feeling his weight press against your back, his hand circling around the back of your neck, and gasping when he squeezes.

“You fucking put your hand on me, girl?” He snarls, his hot breath fanning against your cheek. “I could bring you in for assaulting an officer!”

“You hurt me!” You cry and wince when he squeezes your neck again. “You don’t love me!” You try to speak but his weight only suffocates you further, making it entirely hard to breathe. 

“Love?” It’s almost a whisper as he says the word, gasping for air when his hand leaves your neck but only moves it to press it against the door, trapping you still. “When’d I say I loved ya, girl?” He laughs darkly, moving to turn you around and having you face him. “You’re an amazing fuck, sweetie, but ya ain’t that special.” 

His words prove to be more painful than any of the physical pain he’s given you. You should have known from the start, should have seen the signs. How the officers would chuckle when you show up unannounced at the station, how they would snicker when Lee would take you to his cruiser. Even that one time you saw Natalia smiling at him while you both were at the market shopping for berries for his pie.

You only realize you’re crying when Lee reaches up to brush the tear from your face. You turn away and will yourself to stop, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he’s gotten under your skin. 

“Then go to one of your whores and leave me alone.” You cry and try to push him away but he only cages you again, pressing his stomach against you as his hand drops down on your shoulder, wincing when he gives it a hard squeeze. 

“I’m already with you, ain’t I?” He smirks and you freeze in terror when you hear the jingle of his belt buckle, the sound of his zipper ringing loudly in your ears. “Now be a good whore and make me feel good.” He hisses, a whimper leaving your lips when he pushes you down to your knees, his other hand fumbling with his pants as he pulls his cock free. “And if you do well, I might even call you my favorite.”

I no longer keep a tag list but if you enjoy my stories and want to be kept updated, you can follow my archives blog @springdandelixn-archives and turn on notifications. Thank you!!

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #dark lee bodecker #lee bodecker drabble #lee bodecker au #the devil all the time #request fic #request by lokiandbuckysdoll #coconut bun stories

[captain-mj]

HII, first of all I just wanna say that I love your fics, and then could please post something about wolfshifter au?👉👈🥺🥺 It's my favorite one, I love it

CW for... a lot man honestly. Sexual abuse. References to reproductive rights/the taking away of reproductive rights

Previous parts

Ghost fell asleep with his head in Soap’s lap. The sun was still shining so bright on both of them and the smell of the honeysuckle lingered on their hands. 

“Hey Johnny.”

Well, Soap thought he was asleep. His eyes stayed closed. 

“Yeah, Simon?”

“Why are you so nice to me?”

Soap pet his hair gently, mulling over the words. He could answer that this was his job and while that was definitely true, Simon also definitely got special treatment from him. Not once in the years he’d be working in this job had he ever, ever taken someone home. 

“I don’t know. Guess I just think you deserve it.”

“Sappy.” Ghost opened his eyes. Chocolate brown eyes stared at him. “You’re so sappy. All the time.” 

Soap frowned. “I am not!”

“Kinda are.” Ghost sat up and leaned into him. “That’s okay though. I like it about you. How… soft and squishy your insides are.” He smiled at him. 

Soap flushed. “You’re weirdly romantic for someone who hasn’t talked for a while.”

Ghost looked around to check to see if anyone else was nearby. “They always had romance movies playing at one of the places. Shitty hallmark level ones. All in Spanish, but I picked up things.” He smiled, tilting his head. 

Soap wanted to kiss him. Instead, he followed behind him. 

Ghost walked funny. A tiny bit lopsided. Soap wondered if he had a limp or something that he had been hiding or if that was just his natural gait. He grabbed on to Ghost’s arm and they walked in tune. 

After the park, Ghost seemed a little brighter. He sat up in the car and looked out the window, showing interest in the things that passed by. 

Soap thought he was gorgeous. Regardless, they could not stay out all day. He brought Ghost home and made him more food. 

“So… you mentioned some things that I’m curious about.” He kept his tone light, not wanting to send Ghost on the defensive. 

Ghost looked up, tilting his head. “Yes?”

“You mentioned that when you were being rewarded, you got more control, right?”

“Yes.”

“And when you were being punished, you got less control?” 

Ghost frowned. He didn’t get why Soap was reiterating this so much. Soap was smart, Ghost had no doubt he grasped the concept just fine, so he didn’t get why he seemed so baffled. “Yes. They’d tie me up and let women use me. Sometimes I wonder if I have any kids.”

“Kids?” Soap stared at him, eyes wide. 

Ghost shrugged. “Makes sense. Take two wolves and shove them together. Get better fighters.” It was logical. 

Soap went to the bathroom and retched. Ghost followed and rubbed his back gently, not understanding such an extreme reaction. He didn’t understand why Soap let out a sob. Why he cradled his face so gentle and started to promise it wouldn’t happen again. 

“I’m never ever going to let anyone do anything like that again. I promise. I’m going to keep you safe.” 

Ghost frowned and pulled Soap closer. “You don’t have to keep me safe. I’m your guard do-”

Soap kissed him softly and pulled him in closer. Cradled his face and dotted kisses all over his face once he had gotten his fill of Ghost’s lips. “No. You’re not. Not anymore. You’re not anyone’s guard dog. Not anyone’s dog at all.” He was just so upset. 

Ghost picked him up and carried him easily. He made Soap drink some water and decided he didn’t need the reward he was promised. Johnny was a good enough reward. 

“You’re a person. A very good person.” Soap pressed into him. 

“Johnny.” Ghost started, very gently. “Is it bad, if I don’t feel like a person?”

“Not at all. We’ll get there.”

“What if I never feel like a person? What if I always feel like an animal? What if I can’t be what you’re expecting?”

Soap paused, having to actually think about that. It was a fair question. If he denied it was a possibility, it could be stressful. And regardless of what recovery would look like for Ghost, he needed reassurance now. 

“I’ll still care for you regardless.”

“You own me then. That makes sense. Why isn’t that… good enough?”

Soap tried to think of how to impress upon Ghost that wasn’t… right. It wasn’t okay. “Okay. Remember when you said you own me and I own you?”

Ghost nodded.

“See, we’re… partners. It’s now ownership, just, I care about you and you care about me.” 

Something about that bothered him. “But… I want to own you. I don’t want anyone else to.” 

Soap blushed brightly. “What exactly do you want no one else to do?”

“Touch you. I don’t want to share anymore. I want you to be mine.” 

“Well, then we can arrange that. It’s part of being partners.” 

That seemed to satisfy something in Ghost. “Fine. If you prefer we act as partners instead, we can. But I really don’t think you should trust me as easily. I’m violent. Bad. Feral.”

Soap shook his head. “One day, I’ll get those nasty thoughts out of your head. Until then, just know I do trust you though. And that we should eat.” 

Ghost quickly went to check on the food, happy to see that before Soap ran off to the bathroom, he had turned it off. He watched Soap, making sure he ate first and then he dragged him to bed and let himself be cuddled to sleep. 

Soap though did not sleep. As soon as he was convinced Ghost wouldn’t snap back awake, he went to the balcony and called Price, lighting a cigarette. He spilled everything and even over the phone, he could feel Price’s distaste. 

“How did you find this out?”

“He’s shockingly open about it. I don’t think he quite gets how awful all of it is. He’s so secretive about certain things but with this, he’s an open book. Is there a way to find out if…”

“There were a couple of children according to their records, but obviously no fathers were put down. I’ll check into it. Did he give you anything we can use?”

Soap sighed. “No. Nothing we can use. I’m sorry, I’m just trying to treat him with kid gloves.”

“It’s understandable, Johnny. Take care of yourself here. He hasn’t done anything, has he?”

Soap felt the wound on his shoulder throb. “No. He hasn’t done anything.”

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #soapghost #cod #ghoap

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 52

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: I always come back to Loki.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Loki lingers, his head against your arm as you sit in the hue of spring. You could be calm if he weren’t there, if he hadn’t just altered your irrevocably. His wife? 

You could’ve never imagined it. You can’t be his wife. You’re the maid. You’re lost and hopeless and unimportant. Yet he wants to marry you? You? Even your own father doesn’t want you. Until just then, you may have thought the same of man kneeling by your feet. 

Should it feel special? Should you be happy? Doesn’t every woman dream of her wedding day? You didn’t. You never expected a husband. You never had the thought to spare marriage. It just didn’t seem realistic to you. It was never a possibility you had to weigh. 

“You’re quiet,” he lifts his head slowly, looking up at you with his gemlike eyes, “aren’t you excited?” 

You suck in your lip then let it out, “yeah, I’m just... surprised.” 

“Mm, I’m sorry it wasn’t a better one,” he looks around, “no candles, no champagne... but there are flowers.” 

“Yeah, I guess, er--” 

You hear the doors and before you can face the intruder on your scene, Frigga’s voice unleashes in a shrill squeal, “did you do it? Oh, please, Loki, what did she say?” 

He shifts and clears his throat. He grips the arms rest and pushes himself to his feet. He plants a kiss on your forehead before he straightens. He lets out a breath as he turns to his mother. 

“We are getting married,” he says plainly. 

“Oh, how wonderful,” she chimes, “oh, a daughter-in-law!... Again.” She chuckles lightly, “it will be like a fairytale.” She flutters over to you as Loki moves out of her way, “darling,” she takes your hand, tugging you up to your feet, “this will be even grander than Walpurgisnacht. Oh yes, this will be unforgettable.” 

You look at Loki as he returns your helpless gaze. You pout in his direction as he shrugs. Your mouth curves deeper downward. Please help! 

“I’ve got some silhouettes in mind,” she pulls you away from the table, “Hela showed me this app, Pinterest I believe it’s called. I have all these splendid things saved.” 

‘Sorry,’ Loki mouths and turns his hands out as you’re dragged away from the sunlight and the serenity of nature. Back to the dark house where you can’t breathe. 

Inside, she takes you into the kitchen. She leaves you by the island as she flits around, dropping black tea into a pot and putting on the kettle to boil. She hums gleefully as you just stare. ‘Daughter-n-law'. That’s what she said. Would that make her your mother? 

“Dear,” she turns to you and exhales, her expression dampening, “I recall you said your mother isn't with us anymore. I understand that may make this bittersweet for you but I will be here for you. Whatever you need, whatever questions you have, I’ll be happy to help. A wedding is a big thing. There’s much to do.” 

You nod, “should we... should we hire a planner?” 

“A planner? Gods no! I fancy myself a bit of an amateur but more than adequate,” she tuts, “we could have it at the house. Or perhaps we might seek out a nice chapel.” 

You frown. It’s all so much so fast. She stops and puts her hand to her chest, “oh sorry, darling, I’m just so excited for you. I’m not trying to take over. Don’t be afraid to speak up. What do you think for a venue? Oh, perhaps a destination? Somewhere tropical?” 

You cross your arms and peer over, your eyes catching the sheen of sunlight. 

“The garden,” you murmur, “the gazebo. It’s all fixed up. We could put flowers around the rails.” 

“That’d be a beautiful ceremony but what about the reception? We need space.” 

“Oh,” you babble. 

“Certainly we could make it work. We could fit people into the garden, we may have to sacrifice a few hedges.” 

“Not many,” you mutter. 

“Pardon, dear?” She asks as the kettle clicks and she turns to grab it off the burner, “what do you mean by that?” 

“I...” your shoulders slump at the realisation, “I don’t have anyone to invite.” 

She’s quiet as she pours the steaming water into the tea pot, “that’s not true. You have us and oh, Bragi seemed quite fond of you.” 

“That doesn’t count.” 

“Why not? Dear, we love Loki because we have to, we love you because we want to,” she smiles. 

Your eyes drift away wistfully. She can’t understand. She has people, she has everything you ever wanted. Even with the promise of a pretty house, a gorgeous garden, and all that comes with it, it just doesn’t make you feel any different. 

You want a dad who loves you. You want a mother who’s alive. You want anyone who isn’t just obligated to you. 

“I’m sorry,” her voice goes low, “I’m not meaning to upset you. I’ll slow down. I understand it’s a lot--” 

“How could you want me to marry him? I don’t belong—I shouldn’t-- I can’t be your daughter.” 

“Why ever not?” She asks. 

You scoff and push your shoulders up, “I’m not good enough.” 

She laughs, but not a taunting laugh. It’s disbelieving. She takes you by the shoulders and makes you face her head on, “darling, let me tell you, you are. You... you have no idea.” 

“No idea?” You shake your head as you look at her from beneath your lashes. 

“About what you do to my son. No, you cannot see it but I do. My Loki. I’ve seen him married, I’ve seen him heartbroken, I’ve seen him through everything, but something’s different about this. About you,” he brings a hand up to caress your cheek and hairline, “you have a power over him. Once you claim it, this will all be so much easier.” She cups your cheeks and tilts her head with a coy smile, “that’s how a marriage should be, you will see. He’ll never admit it but my son is more like his father than you would think.” 

You scrunch up your nose. You don’t believe her. You can’t. You don’t have power. You’re just you. You’re not special or anything like that. You now what you are to Loki. The same thing you’ve always been to him, whether his maid, his plaything, or his wife; convenient. 

“You will see,” she assures as if she can hear your doubts, “and what always clears my mind is tea.” 

✨

Frigga expounds at length about all the possibilities ahead of you. She has grocery list that goes beyond a mere wedding. An engagement party, a bridal shower, the rehearsal, and not to mention, a scandalous bachelorette. You only sink further into anxiety. What have you gotten yourself into? 

Well, you never did say yes. You weren’t asked, were you? Doesn’t matter. It’s not like you have anywhere to go. 

You hold your chin, gnawing on your lip as Frigga rambles on about wedding colours. Green is nice but what about something subtle. Oh, or metallic. You simply nod, offering little to her monologue. 

Your eyes wander past her to the windows. The afternoon wanes as evening cools the air. You mourn the sunlight as it shifts and the curtains dull. 

“Ahem,” the clearing of a throat draws you away from your detachment. 

Frigga quiets as she glances at her husband. He stands in the doorway, greeting you both with a subtle smile. 

“I hate to interrupt, dear,” he says to Frigga, “but I was hoping I might be spared a moment with our future daughter before the sun sets. It has been a long day and I’d hate to keep her later than need be.” 

“Oh, uh, certainly,” Frigga pushes her shoulders back, her cheeks tinging a dainty pink, “time must’ve got away from me. I’m so sorry, darling.” She reaches over and squeezes above your elbow, “I have been going on and on.” 

“You will have lots of time to do so,” Odin chuckles, “but I feel the rain coming soon and I would like a walk in the gardens before then.” He tilts his head towards you, “may I have the honour?” 

Frigga nudges you dips her head, “go on.” 

You stand and swallow tightly, crossing the room to Odin as he waits patiently. You offer a sheepish look as he offers his arm. You thank him and walk with him into the entryway. He lets you retrieve your shoes before you go to the back doors and he ushers you outside. 

You’re quiet as you descend the steps and stroll between the hedges. You feel the cool dampness creeping in the air. He’s right about the rain. You cling to his arm as a shiver crawls up your spine. 

He draws away briefly, slipping off his thick cardigan, and he slips it over your shoulders. You murmur a thank you and he loops his arm with yours once again. You carry on, uncertain. You can sense he means to say something and you think you know what. He isn’t as happy as Frigga about this union. 

You brace yourself for it. For him to put all your doubts to voice. You’re not good enough for Loki. This is a mistake. You are a pretender and you don’t belong in this family. 

“My son is a fool,” he begins, shaking you with his soft but deep tone. You exhale, somewhat comforted that you were right. For once. “The way he’s behaved, foolish. And that’s to put it lightly, my dear.” He reaches to pat your hand in the crook of his arm, “you deserve much better than either of my sons.” 

You keep your chin low as you watch your feet. A twig crushes beneath your sole as leaves rustle to your left. You glance over and stare after a short tail before it disappears. It’s only then you realise where he’s leading you. 

The gazebo rises ahead of you with it’s domed roof. He stops you at the bottom and turns. He lets you go and lowers himself to sit on the step. He pats the wood next to him. As you sit, he looks up, admiring the structure. 

“You did a good job,” he says. 

“What?”  

“On this,” he touches the railing, “looks sturdy.” 

“Oh, well I... I only called the carpenter.” 

“You did what needed to be done. What my son would not.” 

“Mm, I guess,” you shrug. 

“You did,” he insists, “do you not see it?” 

“See what?” You twiddle your fingers. 

“You are much stronger than he thinks you are. Than you think you are,” he shakes his head, “you underestimate yourself. My son, as much as I hate to think I raised him that way, while whine and whine before he gets anything done. If he can avoid it, it won’t be done. But you, I see it clearly, you do things. You know what life is. You just get through it.” 

You hum and bite down on your cheeks. Not having a choice isn’t bravery. If anything, it’s the opposite. 

“You shouldn’t. Just get through it. You should have some joy. You shouldn’t be locked away in the dark away from the sunlight. You should flourish in it,” he leans against you, “don’t let this marriage be like everything else.” 

You dip your head. He sees right through you. 

“You’re wrong, I’m not strong. I’m weak. I only do things because I’m afraid,” you sniffle. 

“But you can admit that fear. You can face it. Not many people can.” 

You sighs and drag your hands up and down your calves, hunching over your knees. 

“If you want to marry my son, I will not say a word to stop you, but I do want you to make a promise to me,” he continues, “a small one. Rather, think of it as a promise to yourself.” 

“Okay,” you wilt as you look over at him. His eyes are a bluish grey with flecks of slate. His gaze is gentle. 

“It’s what we spoke of before,” he says, “you must tell my son no.” 

“No?” 

“Ah, yes, I do regret he didn’t hear more it earlier in his life but he does need to hear it. Especially from you,” he intones. 

“But I...” 

“You will. And when you do, he will listen.” 

“How-- no, he wouldn’t.” 

“Ah, I know. My son is isn’t very good at that but he will. He must. He has reason to listen now. You are not his wife yet,” he puts his hand over yours, just atop your knee. 

You give a strained look, somewhere between a smile and frown. You’re flattered that he believe in you but you don’t. He doesn’t know the way it. He doesn’t know the way you are. 

“Alright, let’s practice,” he pulls his hand away and claps. He pushes himself to his feet with a grunt and spins to face you. He adjusts his collar and lifts his chin, putting on face, almost a pinched look, “now, wife,” his voice is slightly off, “what I say is law and you will do as I say.” 

You stare at him, confused. You purse your lips and shake your head. What is he talking about? 

He grins and shows his palms, “I am him. Pretend I’m my son,” he lowers his voice, “now, we’ve had enough of this conversation and I have made my decision.” 

You pick your nail, watching him dumbly. 

He breaks character again, “say no.” 

“What?” 

“Say it,” he orders then once more his poster shifts. “Wife, I will not tell you again.” 

You blink and take a deep breath, “n--no?” 

He sputters, “pardon? What was that?” 

“No,” you say firmer, heart beating, “no, I—I won’t.” 

“But I said so--” 

“Oh, um, okay--” 

“No, no, no,” Odin waves his hands, “keep going.” 

“Uh, okay, uh, no,” you say again. 

“No? You’re telling me no?” He puts on a display which does remind you of Loki. “How can you tell me no?” 

You look at him and blanch. His grey eyes stare back, goading you on. He bows his head slightly. 

“Yes, I mean, no. Yes, I am telling you no. No,” you steady your voice, “no.” He spins his finger and you repeat it again, loudly. 

He arches his brow and puts his hand to his chest, “no?” He sounds almost pathetic, “but darling,” he comes forward and lowers himself to his knees, one at a time. He takes your hand in his, “darling, please, don’t be mad at me.” 

You scoff as his theatrics turn ridiculous. You make a face and roll your eyes, “he wouldn’t...” 

“He will,” Odin assures. “If he knows you’re serious, if you don’t give him what he wants right away, oh, I think you could give him a right scare. As I have it, you already have done.” He lifts himself slightly and angles to sit beside you again, “just perhaps this time you needn’t scale the roof.” 

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #maid au #dirty work #mcu #marvel #avengers

[beneathstarryskies]

Just a short lil thing about Dante becoming obsessed with a troubled woman and following her.

Warnings: stalking(Dante is the perpetrator) , mentions of domestic abuse (Dante is NOT the perpetrator), ooc, panty stealing, fem!reader, suggestive themes, dark content

Dante was smitten the moment he laid eyes on you. It had been a quick, casual run-in at his favorite diner that turned into something of a regular thing for the two of you. You’d sit beside him as he enjoyed a strawberry sundae at the counter. To his surprise, you’d made conversation quite easily. There was just something about you that seemed so kind and gentle, yet a sadness lurked underneath the surface. He hated that. Sometimes when your paths crossed, your eyes would look so hurt. He wanted to snuff out that pain, no matter what it would take. 

One night, you came into the diner as Dante was leaving, and you rushed past him. You didn’t even notice you were passing the man you’d come to form a casual acquaintance with. Your eyes were too blurry with tears. He turns to watch you rush to the end of the diner and disappear into the bathroom. When you come back out, that’s when he notices the bruise underneath your eye. His blood runs cold as he goes back into the diner, sliding into the booth next to you. 

“Who did this to you?” he asks through gritted teeth. Your eyes widen, and you can’t help feeling frightened about his demeanor considering what had just happened to you. 

“It’s nothing,” you lie. “It was an accident.” 

“Don’t lie,” he tries to take your hand, but you flinch as you pull away. 

“I should go. I’m sorry.” 

Dante’s eyebrows knit together in concern as he watches you walk away. He can’t fight the thought that maybe you’re walking right back into danger. So, after a few moments of careful consideration, he follows you. He’s careful as he trails behind you on your walk home. He can’t help noticing the way you have your arms folded so protectively around yourself. He feels guilty for doing something like this. Never in his life has he considered following someone home, but something about you…He needs to make sure you’re okay. 

You make it back to your building, and as you head upstairs Dante goes up to the top of the building across the street. In a few moments, he sees you through one of the windows. You’re trembling as you speak to someone. Even from here, he can feel your fear. His fist are clenched as you become more upset, and he sees a man’s shadow on the wall. 

“Don’t fucking touch her,” he growls under his breath. 

He stays there all night, watching you make your way through the apartment with that man following you. Even once the lights are turned off and you’ve most likely gone to bed, he stays glued to the spot. He dozes off once or twice until the sun rises. It’s a little after dawn when he sees you rise again, and without being able to hear you he knows you’re yelling. Then, he sees that man slap you. Your eyes widen as you bring a trembling hand to your stinging cheek. It takes everything Dante has not to crash through the window, but he knows he can’t do that. It’ll only make things worse. No, he’s got to take care of this problem swiftly and quietly. 

A couple hours later, you leave the apartment. Then, that man does. Dante follows him until he has him on a quiet alleyway. That’s when he strikes. He pushes the man against the wall, easily holding him up by his neck. 

“I’m only going to give you this once chance,” Dante growls and lets his eyes flash red with the demonic energy swirling inside. “Get the fuck out of town.” 

“Fuck you,” the man groans. “Let me go, you fucking freak.” 

Dante throws him to the ground, hearing one of the man’s ribs crack from the force. He kicks him in the crotch with just as much force. 

“Maybe you didn’t fucking hear me. I said get out of town, now. I’ll be watching every step, and if you don’t leave on your own I’ll make sure your absence is permanent.” 

“Okay, okay,” the man groans. “I’ll leave! I swear.” 

“Now!” Dante roars, his deep voice echoing off the cement walls. 

The man barely manages to scurry to his feet before Dante is grabbing him by the collar of his coat and shoving him out of the alleyway. Dante follows him back to the apartment, then sticks around to make sure he packs his shit and leaves. After that, he goes home to get some much needed sleep. 

That night, he goes back to the roof of the building across from yours. You seem a little worried when you read the note your boyfriend left for you. Yet, you can’t help feeling relief when you realize he’s gone. Dante feels victorious when he sees that small smile tugging on the corners of your lips. 

_

Day after day, night after night he feels drawn to you. You hardly take a step that Dante isn’t watching. His heart and soul feel drawn to you. In a way, he’s starting to feel like he knows you. He sees all these sweet little moments in your life that you likely hide from the rest of the world. Like the way you dance and sing through the apartment on the weekends. Especially when you’re cleaning. He sees you offer help to little old ladies on the street and playful smiles to children. You never pass a dog or cat you don’t at least acknowledge with a friendly word. You even put out food for the strays. In his eyes, you’re nothing less than angelic. 

Dante tells himself that he’s only following you to protect you. You need him to keep you safe from the dangers you don’t even know are lurking all around. He’s seen so much loss in his life. Vergil, his mother, and so many innocent bystanders in his fights against demons. Things could be different with you. He would be your protector, even if you were never his lover. 

He knows he’s fooling himself. He’ll never be content truly with being a shadow in your life. He thinks about you all the time. When he’s home alone, he imagines having you there with him. More specifically, he imagines having you underneath him. His hand wraps around his cock as he pictures you whining and mewling as he fucks you. He’d make you feel so damn good if he had the chance. He jerks himself off to this thought almost every day until he’s making a mess all over himself, your name falling off his lips in a desperate growl. 

The next day, you’re home all day. You seem happier than he’s seen you in a while. You’re dancing and singing in your apartment, then you go to the bedroom. He has to switch positions to be able to see you, and fuck he’s so happy he made the effort. You’re barely obscured by the sheer curtains, probably feeling safe since your bedroom window looked out on the alleyway. He can see you stripping off every layer of clothing, until you’re standing naked within his sights. His cock twitches as he takes in the beauty of your curvy silhouette. Once you’re in the bathroom, he makes his way to the fire escape and listens for the shower to start running. He opens the window the rest of the way and tries to crawl inside. His jacket catches on an old nail jutting from the the windowsill, and he lets out a surprised grunt. He’s worried you heard him, so he quickly snatches the panties he came for and leaves the way he came. 

Having heard the slight commotion, you peak around the corner with your heart pumping. The red, tattered piece of leather stuck on a nail catches your attention. You hold the towel tighter around yourself as you walk over to grab it. Your thumb soothes off the smoother leather, and you think about the man from the diner…

#dante x reader #dante dmc x reader #🌟written in the stars #dante devil may cry x reader

[zcorners120]

cheat. - charles drabble

S M U T; 18+ MASTER LIST

synopsis; you and max are happy, you told yourself over and over. but you couldn’t help but not believe yourself when a certain man in red made you doubt yourself.

warnings; implied sex, cheating, lying, bruises, hickys, spanking, toxic!max, arguing, physical abuse.

Max won. He won the race, you should be ecstatic. But you weren’t, you were hurt and upset. He understandably went out to celebrate with his team and with his friends, you assumed you were invited, but he made his opinion clear.

“No, you weren’t important to my win, why should you celebrate?” He said, bitterly. Looking you in the eyes as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“What are you talking about? I constantly support you, even when you blow me off for emergency meetings. I always put you and your career first.” You spat back, offended he could say such things.

“Look, you’d truly be supporting me if you weren’t blowing half the guys in the championship. If you think any part of this win was helped by you, you’re out of your mind.” He says, tugging his jacket on and not looking at you.

“You’re fucking delusional Max, you seriously think Im blowing your competitors? You have some serious insecurity issues.” You rushed, his words hurt like salt to an open wound.

He stayed silent for a second, before getting up and walking closer to you, and backing you up against the wall. You felt the room closing in on you, knowing you shouldn’t of have run your mouth.

“Look, Y/N. You can either admit that you don’t help me with shit and know your place, or I can put you in your place myself.” He said, his face tingeing red as his hand raises to slap you directly across the face.

His hand was big, and rough and stung like a mother fucker. You gulped, and didn’t dare look up at him.

“That’s what I thought. I’m going, and don’t dare tell anyone.” He said, walking away and slamming the door behind him.

You sank to the floor, wondering how you got yourself in such a bad place. You loved Max, but the more he did this, the more you thought you had to leave.

Sometimes the people you love most, don’t turn around out to be the people you thought they are.

You needed a drink, desperately. You had the thought to go out, in a bar far from where Max was partying.

Getting up and sitting at your vanity, you saw the red splotch smeared on your face, a constant remind of him.

Patting on green colour corrector, an almost never ending cycle.

Apply, rub, smear, reapply and retouch later on in the day.

Apply, rub, smear, reapply and retouch later on in the day.

Apply, rub, smear, reapply and retouch later on in the day.

Finally masking your dark private life, you slipped on a plain black dress, with two strings tying at the back of your neck. With some black heels, and fluffing your hair up, you looked like a supermodel.

Your heels clacked against the tarmac, walking up to your mercedes’, which you had bought before meeting Max.

You drove to a well known exclusive club, dropping the keys to the valet, and whispering an incoherent thanks.

You strutted past the bouncers, them knowing not to bother you. Walking straight to the VIP section, and making a beeline to the bartender.

“Double vodka raspberry, thanks.” You quietly said, hoping the bartender doesn’t see through to your desperation. “And a shot of tequila.” You added, knowing you’ll need more to merely get you through the next couple days.

“Make that two shots.” A voice spoke out from behind you, dark and sudden.

You turn around, your hair falling behind you as you see Charles behind you. He sits on the stool next to you, and looks at you in the eyes, something mysterious behind them.

“Why are you not with Max?” He questions, his accent fading in and out.

“Uhm, I just think he wanted to celebrate with the team.” You said, looking away. As you finished the sentence, your drinks had arrived.

You both simultaneously neck your shots, looking at each other after downing the liquid, burning your throat.

He lifted his hand to your face, you moving away from instinct, but he persists and holds your chin.

“Mon Ange, why do you let him treat you like this? You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on, and you stay with him?” He pleads, as a million thoughts race your mind.

“It’s complicated, and isn’t your place to say such things Charles.” You retorted, half laughing that he thought he could say such things.

Your laughter soon stopped, as you felt his large hand, sliding up your thigh and under your dress, resting there as a form of comfort.

“I know how you look at me in the paddock, and you know I see you, who doesn’t? You know I could treat you better.” He said smugly, seeing the effect he had on you.

You couldn’t deny his words, because he was absolutely right. His dark fluffy hair, face adorned with little freckles, and his emerald eyes.

“Charles, we can’t do this.” You said bluntly, sipping on your drink as you look around for any cameras.

“Give me one night, and if I don’t make you feel better in a couple hours than Max could in a year, I’ll leave you be. You will be my princesse, and will be treated right.” He claimed, smoothing his tie on his ruffled shirt with his free hand.

“Private room number 16, Leclerc.” You say, walking off to the room, feeling his glare on your ass.

Walking to the room, you understood the consequences that came with this, but you were upset, vengeful, and petty.

You took your dress off, and threw your heels into a random corner. Laying on the bed, you laid on your stomach, ass in the air, showing off your red lingerie.

You bit your lip in anticipation, hearing the door open, and the lock click.

“Now, now Y/N. I’ve been waiting a long time for this, for you to be treated and respected by a real man.” He lowly says, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Mhm, please touch me, please.” You whined out, ready for him, but you were not ready in the slightest when you felt a huge smack behind you.

He spanked your ass, taking you by complete surprise and satisfaction. You slightly moaned, feeling the tickling and burning sensation.

“Mon Cherié likes her ass getting smacked? Well then we’re going to have a wonderful time.” He speaks out, sounding proud of you, doing a slight wolf whistle.

“Max never did anything like this.. Not even close.” You said, awaiting the next delicious smack from his big hand.

“Yeah? It’s good you’ve got me then. I have a feeling that you knew you’d meet me tonight, you’re even wearing red for me.” He says smirking, as you start laughing.

“That’s pretty bold of you to assume.” You scoff, not letting his ego fly past his head.

He also starts to laugh, before he stops and lands another hard smack on your other ass cheek.

“You may get sassy with Max, but Im not him. So if I were you, I’d get ready.” You gulped, hearing a belt buckle underdo, and drop to the floor, and hearing a zipper fly next.

The next thing you know is you’re getting filled deep from behind, as his thick cock delves deeper and deeper into your small hole.

“Oh fuck-” You both simultaneously moan out, as he pulls his length out to the tip, and slams back into you.

He sets a slow, excruciating pace as his long cock fucks you, it was incomparable to Max’s.

“Harder..” You barely get out, as you feel him stop behind you.

“My girl wants it harder? No problem.” He says, abruptly pulling you up as he gets on the bed, shoving you on top of him.

With having no time to react to the action, you feel his hips slam up against your thighs, his balls slapping against your ass.

You choke out intense moans, as his grip on your waist tightens. He impressively keeps the pace up, absolutely demolishing your pussy.

He leans you forward, and sucks hickys under your boobs, biting slightly. But you didn’t care, being in such euphoria, you were cock drunk on Charles.

His fast thrusts ripple against your ass, with him whispering sweet nothings in french as he sucks in various places.

“Oh Cherié, fuck, lean forward like that.” He lustily says, as he feels you approaching your high.

You let go, clenching your eyes shut as your legs start to tremble uncontrollably.

This only turns Charles on more, that he’s made his biggest enemy’s girlfriend cum on his dick.

The rest of the night is a blur, as you two become feral for each other.

Waking up in an unfamiliar bed, you walk up to a grand mirror in the room, completely naked with hickies under your boobs showing the number 16.

You look at yourself in disbelief, wondering how on earth you were going to go out in public.

As you look at yourself, you see a familiar Monegasque man walking out of a bathroom, with a towel wrapped around his waist, smirking directly at you.

A/N ; i tried not to focus on the angsty part of it, and steered more towards smut? hoping that it came out alright D:

#formula 1 #fanfic #imagines #charles leclerc #ferrari f1 #charles leclerc fluff #f1 fandom #ferrari #imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #scuderia ferrari #drivers #au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #smut #max verstappen #charles leclerc one shot #leclerc #leclerc smut #max verstappen x reader #charles smut #formula 3 #driver #f1 x reader

[wifeytrio]

Chapter three:

Warnings: Obsession, Murder(blood and gore silt throat is mentioned along with a gun and a knife), Wooyoung is absolutely bat shit crazy, manipulation, slight abuse that he apologizes for, name calling, pervy Wooyoung jerking off. Just a lot in one chapter.

Wooyoung had come home from the little coffee date he had with Mae. He knew he probably shouldn’t because of his girlfriend but it wasn’t anything more than getting to know each other.

“How’d it go?” San smiled as he took a bite of his toast. “You sweep her off her feet yet?” He chuckled.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes and looked at San. “You know damn well it wasn’t an actual date.”

“But you wanted it to be.” He smirked.

“San. Shut up.” He glared. As right as San was, he didn’t want his girlfriend hearing that. He headed towards his ‘man cave’ and smiled at the thought of being able to see Mae again.

He had monitors set up, watching her every move. The boys helped so he could watch her.

Last thing he watched was her in the shower. Such a pretty little thing. She stood there, letting the water relax her muscles. He groaned at the sight. She had tattoos down her back, legs, arms. Piercings and the prettiest eyes when she looked up. He had pulled himself out his pants and started touching himself to her. He couldn’t help it. She was perfect. He walked in and froze.

His girlfriend sat there, staring at the screens. She was freaked out. The man she had been with for almost a year, was obsessed with another woman. She was confused but upset. How dare he lead her on like this. “What are you doing in here?”

She jumped and turned around, the look in her boyfriend’s eyes was terrifying. “Baby. I- I’m s- sorry. I didn’t mean t-too.” She stuttered out, her heart beating so fast, she couldn’t think straight. She could barely breathe even.

Wooyoung walked up to her and grabbed her face. “That didn’t answer my question. What. Are. You. Doing. In. Here?” He growled out. He was beyond pissed. This was his room. No one but Hongjoong had a key.

“I- I was trying to find you.” She whimpered at his grip. “You’re hurting me baby.” She looked at him, tears forming.

Wooyoung chuckled darkly. “I don’t care if I’m hurting you, I told you to never come in here. You disobey me. You know I don’t like being disobeyed.”

“Baby. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” He laughed evilly.

“Of course you won’t do it again.” He wiped her tears away, before wrapping his hand around her throat. “You won’t ruin what I’ve worked so hard for. I’ve been in love with her for a very long time. You just came at a time when I needed to let out my frustration.” He smirked. “I used you for my pleasure.” He squeezed tighter.

“Baby please. I’m sorry.” She whispered out again.

His eyes were full of hatred, anger. “Shut. Up.” He growled. “You had nothing before me. I made you.” He mumbled out. If looks could kill, she knew she’d be dead.

He took his hand off her. “Come on. We��re going home.” He growled at her, grabbing her arm and pushing her out the door. He locked up the room and dragged her out towards street, where he held her hand. “I’m sorry princess. I was mad. And I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

She smiled softly and shook her head. “I disobeyed you and I shouldn’t have. It’s okay.” She told him, holding his hand and arm.

He got her home and into her place. “Baby. Do me a favor?” He smiled at her, pushing hair behind her ear. “Can you call Kyle over?”

Her eyes widen and she looked at him. “I- Why?”

“Just entertain me.” He smiled at her, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “Now call him princess.”

She listened, not wanting to make him even more upset with her. She asked Kyle to come over, telling him Wooyoung hurt her, and then the boy told her he’d be over in ten minutes.

Wooyoung smiled at her. “You did so well baby.” He told her, pressing his lips back against hers. “Now, when he gets here, let me handle everything. Okay?” He smiled at her. Poor girl thought her ex was crazy. Wooyoung knew that. He also knew she had no clue how crazy he was himself.

Kyle walked in, looking at her on the couch. “Baby. Oh my gosh. I’m sorry he hurt you.” Kyle said, walking towards her. She had tears pouring down her face and she wanted to tell Kyle to run.

The door slammed shut and it made Kyle jump. “Finally nice to meet the man she never stops talking about.” Wooyoung smirked. “So let’s play a little game, shall we?” He chuckled darkly as he waved the gun he had pulled on his girlfriend, seconds before.

“What kinda game?” Kyle asked, almost in a whisper.

“A very fun one.” Wooyoung laughed. “Well, fun for me.” He smirked. “Up. Both of you.” He hummed.

They had gotten into the room, Wooyoung smiling the whole time. “Now, strip.” He smiled at his girlfriend.

“Wooyoung. What are we doing?” She whispered, tears rolling down her face.

Wooyoung laughed. “We’re going to have fun. I told you that. Now do what I said and strip.” He growled, making her jump and start stripping.

“Now you, tie her to the bed for me.” He smirked. Kyle listened and did as told, grabbing the rope and tying her to the bed.

Wooyoung smiled at them and giggled. He loved the excitement this gave him. It was a thrill. “Now. Take the knife.” When Kyle didn’t do as told, Wooyoung push the gun against his head. “Do what I said now.” He growled.

Kyle listened this time, picking the knife up and looking at Wooyoung. “Cut her.”

“W-what?” Kyle asked him.

“She cheated on you with me. She’s not as innocent as she said she was. I fucked her in your bed. I fucked her on your counter. I fucked her in your car. Made her cum so many times, she cried.” Wooyoung told him, smirking.

Kyle looked down at her. “No. Kyle I swear. I never cheated on you. He’s fucking crazy.”

“She told me you were crazy.” Wooyoung told Kyle. “So far. We’re in the same boat man.”

Kyle was angry now. “You cheated on me?” He held the knife to her throat.

“Do it.” Wooyoung told him. Kyle didn’t hesitate after that, slicing the knife across her throat and watching her bleed out.

Kyle took a deep breath and realized what he just did, about to go after Wooyoung with the knife. Wooyoung smirked and tilted his head, pulling the trigger.

“Yunho. I d-don’t understand what happened.” Wooyoung sobbed into the phone. “I was coming in the check on her and he was on top of her with a knife. He slit her throat and then came after me.” Wooyoung sobbed some more. “I shot in self defense.”

Once Wooyoung was off the phone, he wiped his tears, putting the gun on the ground and waited for Yunho to show up.

Masterlist

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