#Island Soul City Dreams

[yoonia]

A Christmas Fix — 01 (m) | kth

⟶ Summary | One-night stands are supposed to be nothing more than just. It shouldn’t have involved seeing those two red lines looking back at you weeks later without a name or a contact number linking you back to your mystery man. Nothing more but his face. The unforgettable face that would sometimes appear in your dreams at night. So unforgettable that you immediately recognise him the moment he walks into your family home at Christmas, hand-in-hand with your older stepsister.

With special collab prompt: "the holidays aren't so bad with you around."

⟶ Title | A Christmas Fix

⟶ Pairings | Taehyung x female reader

⟶ Genre | Secret Baby!au, Second Chance!au, Strangers to Lovers!au

⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; including: alcohol consumption, mentions of pregnancy, vomiting/morning sickness, surprise babies, miscommunication, profanities/swearing, minor body insecurities (implied), some family drama; involves multiple explicit sex scenes, including: sexual tension, one night stand, drunk sex (with clear consent), minor dom/sub dynamic, brat!reader, size kink, rough sex, light choking, restraint, hair pulling (M, F), protected & unprotected sex, fingering (F), oral sex (F), clit play, breast play, stripping, biting, minor hand job/groping, grinding, masturbation (M, F), dirty talk, implied pain kink, praise kink, body worship, marking, multiple orgasms (M, F), overstimulation.

⟶ Word count | 25,363 words (of 54,773 words)

⟶ Story Notes | Part of the Jingle All the Way collaboration with @leahsfavefics, @kithtaehyung, @kpopfanfictrash, @cybrsan, and @sugaurora | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs) | Moodboard was done by me | Posted in: January 31st, 2024 by @yoonia

⟶ Author Notes | I know that this is so late, but December has always been a rough month for me and this time it continued until January. I hope you can still enjoy this story regardless. Happy belated holidays and happy new year, my loves!

⟶ Jingle All the Way collab masterlist | A Christmas Fix: next chapter ⇢

⟶ Main Masterlist | Taglist | Feedback | Mailbox | Ko-fi

⟶ Read on AO3

One month ago…

You already had everything perfectly planned out when you first thought of this trip some long months ago. 

Everything. 

From your personal bucket list full of wonderful things that you wanted to experience during your time away and the places that you wanted to see, down to the smallest details that you could possibly think of to be able to enjoy every single moment of your secret getaway.

Just like the red dress that you had chosen to wear tonight. The dress you had meticulously picked and bought to wear on the trip as you went to celebrate your newfound freedom. 

In your well-thought-out plan, you were supposed to have landed on the tropical island you were headed to by sundown. The warm tropical breeze should have been embracing you at the start of your trip instead of the cold, chilly wind flowing right outside these walls. 

By this evening, you should have already settled in nicely in the comfort of your hotel room right by the beachside. The calming sound of the rushing waves outside your window was the sound that you should have been listening to while resting from your long flight. 

You had pictured yourself embracing your freedom in a foreign land. To feel the soft sand slipping between your toes as you were playing chase with the rushing waves, and to find calmness that you could only get far away from the treacherous city where you came from. 

The trip was meant to help you mend your soul. Perfectly planned out as an escape from reality and leave all of your past hurt behind before starting a new chapter of your life. 

And yet, no matter how thoroughly you had it all planned out, somehow life simply found a way to mess it all up. Just like how it had always been. So perhaps you shouldn’t have been so surprised when it happened to you again, just when you thought that you had everything under control. 

You should have seen the signs long before everything started crumbling down.

The sky that kept growing darker ever since you left the city. The constant turbulences happening during your first flight that made the trip feel intense. The unsettling feeling you met the moment you landed in this place for your transit. The constant announcements echoing through the airport about flights that were getting delayed and cancelled while you were getting no news about your transit flight’s departure. 

You should have been prepared to face reality, keeping in mind that life hadn’t been so nice to you lately to let you slip away that easily. Yet your stubbornness prevailed. And after your most recent predicament, you needed this trip to happen. You needed to be right. 

After all, you have made it all the way here. It would have been impossible for you to return home, wouldn’t it?

So you remained in denial and were so stubbornly holding onto hope that you would soon be taken away from this place towards your dream destination. Even when the world around you seemed to be falling apart. 

But after long hours of waiting, you were finally forced to accept your fate, letting go of any hope you had left to escape this place when they officially cancelled the rest of today’s flights due to unresolved weather issues. Including yours.

“I’m sorry, but we really can’t promise you anything at this moment. There will be no flights until the storm passes and our pilots are cleared to fly again. Until then, we have nothing to tell you.” 

The staff’s swift response to your inquiries about getting on the first flight available to take you to your destination only left you with a dead end. Even flying back home was no longer an option, only because that would only mean that you were admitting defeat. 

And that was how you ended up here tonight, stranded right between the daunting city that you called home and the paradise that you wished to be in until an unforeseeable future. Your dream of enjoying the night in the comfort of the beachside hotel room overlooking the wide, clear ocean, had been replaced with the reality where you had to spend overnight at the airport’s transit hotel that the airline staff helped book for you. 

You released a sigh as you leaned back against the elevator wall. Recounting the events again only brought back all the terrible mood you were having. And it didn’t help that the last message that your roommate sent you only reminded you of your setback. 

From Skye: Just checking on you on your secret getaway. I hope you’re having a blast right now. I wish you’d tell me where you’re heading so I can have a good reason to be jealous. Be safe!

Another sigh came from your lips as you wondered—

Now how am I supposed to answer her text? 

Before you could find an answer, the elevator doors opened as it reached the lobby downstairs. You put away your phone as you stepped out, and immediately got lost in your thoughts. Your mind once again getting too loud as it keeps you company. 

At first, you had no intention of hiding this trip from her. Yet all the circumstances leading to this weekend had made it hard for you to share anything to anyone.

You were planning to wait until you were finally there so you could surprise her with pictures from the beautiful beach or your comfortable hotel room. Showing her the pretty nighttime scene from the tropical island would have been a nice way to flaunt your secret getaway rather than boasting it when your fate had been filled with uncertainty. 

But instead of having an evening walk down the beach, you were trudging across the lobby inside an airport hotel, accompanied by the sound of your heels clicking on the marble floors instead of having sand soiling your feet. 

And the view outside the window that you got to see earlier had been nowhere close to the pretty beach with its white sand and rolling waves. Instead, you had a clear view of the dark night sky, painted with the raging storm and its blaring thunders so strong they almost caused the entire bedroom to shake. Neither showed any sign of calming down any time soon, leaving you with no other choice but to do what you could to enjoy your temporary stay.

And you were going to start doing so by having a quick drink to help you unwind for the night. 

The red dress that you were wearing might seem a bit excessive for a nightcap, but for a short while, it helped you forget where you were. It felt almost as if you were walking in a dream as you strolled down the lower lobby in search of the hotel bar. 

Entering the hotel bar, however, became another wake-up call. 

The bar was quite large for a transit hotel, accommodating the patrons filling the place tonight. You had hoped that you could have a dance or two with a friendly stranger before retreating to your hotel room to rest, yet the closed-off lounge area had more space filled with box seats than the open dance floor. The seating area was the only place in the bar which was dimly lit, allowing the guests some privacy while they settled in with their drinks. 

The small chandeliers glittering from the ceiling were far from the hanging lights that you pictured hanging in a beachside bar. Just like the one place you had seen pictures of while planning for your trip. The lights you were seeing here made the entire space beneath seem luxurious, spreading a soft golden glow over the wary faces trying to enjoy the night. 

The pulsing bass that came out of the speakers was enough to drown the sound of the violent storm happening on the other side of these walls, further helping to create an illusion that you were in another place. That you were somewhere else instead of being stranded inside an airport hotel, together with all the strangers who seemed to be facing the same fate as you did. 

You made your way towards the main bar, suddenly feeling hyperaware of your surroundings. Even without looking, you could feel people’s eyes following your movements. Yet you paid no heed to them. You were only here to quiet down the raging storm happening inside your head, after all. 

A strong scent of old wood took over the bar area. Mixed in with the excessive scent of air fresheners and cleaners, it was enough to remind you that you were miles and miles away from the beautiful island where you had been so desperate to be. 

Smoothing your palms down your red dress, you took one empty seat at the bar. You caught the bartender’s eyes as he walked past, and within moments, a glass of strawberry daiquiri ended up in your hand. 

This feels nice, you wondered to yourself as you sat back and tried to relax.

One sip of the sweet alcoholic drink was all that it took to refresh your mind. As the warmth from your drink ran smoothly through your body, any doubt and wariness you felt began to fade. 

The next sip of the drink managed to ease your thoughts down a bit more. It helped push away the reminders of your troubles to the back of your mind. Finding calmness, you took another quick look at your surroundings.

The seating lounge seemed to be filled with guests more than the main bar was. Stranded travellers like yourself. At first glance, the nicely dressed men in suits made it seem like you were in a bar downtown. As if they were nothing more than a group of businessmen seeking leisure on a Friday night with drinks. 

It only took you looking a few seats away from them for the illusion to shatter. Your eyes fell on a group of men and women wearing their summer clothing who were making a toast, acting as if they were at the peak of their vacation. 

Looking at the scene made you realise that you weren’t the only one feeling miserable tonight. You wondered just how badly these people here needed to forget. How many of them here might be similar to you, stranded in an unexpected situation while trying to escape reality? 

You raised your glass to hide your bitter smile. The smooth liquid continued to flow through your body and you slowly began to find some peace of mind. Before you knew it, you had finished your drink, though you weren’t exactly ready to return to your cold bedroom. 

“Can I order you another glass of drink?” 

A deep voice invaded your senses after a long period of silence, and it was coming from your side. You had been far too deep in your reverie that you didn’t even realise that someone had taken the empty seat right beside you at the bar. 

Curious to see this friendly stranger, you slowly turned around to look at him. And what you saw in him nearly took your breath away. 

A tall, lean man was sitting there. His slick hair had a few curls at the end of each strands, and he had combed them back, leaving nothing more than a few stands framing his handsome face that looked almost as if it had been sculpted by the fine hands of masters in art. His sharp nose and jawline drew your attention, while his deep and soulful eyes that appeared like pools of rich mahogany drew you in, as if he was hiding a story behind his intense gaze. But it was his plump lips that formed into a smile which caught your eyes the most.

At your silence that stretched out while you were busy being captivated by him, he raised his eyebrows. It made you realise that he was waiting for your answer. An answer to a question that you had so obviously missed. 

“I’m sorry?” 

He tilted his chin to point at your now empty glass. “You look like you could use another glass, and I’d love to get one for you,” he said with an amused tone of voice. 

Once again, his deep, velvety voice hit you deeply. It resonated through your body, and a shudder ran down your spine. You refused to believe that he was able to cause this effect on you solely through his voice or his pretty smile. 

But how else would you explain the reaction that was drawn from your body? 

I don’t think I’m that drunk already, you wondered.

It was probably the way he spoke to you which affected you so much. The way he was asking a question with pure confidence. As if he already knew your answer, and that it would be impossible for you to refuse his offer. 

And he wasn’t completely wrong about it. 

What remained from your sullen mood immediately shifted in his presence. And while you have no intention of turning him down, you decided that you were not going to make things easy for him. 

“An interesting offer that seems like such a waste for me to refuse,” you sweetly said to him, smiling as your eyes fell on his empty hands. “But how would a woman feel at ease to accept such an offer from a man who isn’t even holding a glass in his hand?” 

He squinted his eyes at you, which only made his gaze feel more intense. “Are you afraid that I might be planning to get you drunk?” 

You softly laughed. “Not sure if I should be so worried about that. Getting drunk tonight has always been my initial plan all along,” you coyly said, hiding the fact that it was never your intention to get wild tonight. But his appearance intrigued you enough to change your mind about ending the night so soon.  

The mysterious man remained oblivious to this as he laughed with you. His wide, almost boxy grin mesmerised you in an instant and you were once again left speechless. 

He waved his hand to grab the bartender’s attention. It was nothing more but a simple gesture, yet you were somewhat drawn to it. To him.  

While he greeted the bartender, you took the chance to have a better look at this man. You noticed that he was a bit different compared to the other men that you saw around you earlier. 

Dressed in a black jacket over his plain white shirt, he didn’t seem as sophisticated as the stranded businessmen in their flashy suits sitting together at the bar’s lounge. Yet he had a different level of confidence which was enough to make your cheeks feel warm. 

In your eyes, he was alluring, almost as intensely as the dark storm happening outside. And you couldn’t resist being pulled towards him. 

“Another glass of the same drink for the lady and a glass of grasshopper for me,” he smoothly spoke as he ordered the drinks for you.

The bartender nodded and went to work, while you slid closer to him. His fresh-scented cologne immediately hit you, and your confidence nearly wavered that you almost slid back. But then he caught you with his gaze as he turned back to you, giving you the kind of attention which boosted every bit of ego you had. 

“So you also prefer something light and sweet. How intriguing,” you teased him, bringing back his alluring grin. 

“Why do you think I came here to join you? It was obviously for the fruity drinks and to have someone to drink it together with,” he joked.

You rolled your eyes at him and smiled. Before you got to say something in return, the bartender came back with his order. The man took a sip of his drink first before you took yours. Once again, the sweetness from your drink swirled through your body, chipping away at the tension that had been weighing you down ever since the day’s saga began. 

“To be honest, I also thought that you were looking a bit rough.” His remark brought your attention back to him. The tease was gone from his voice. All that was left was a gentle concern that seemed genuine. “And you looked like you needed a friend. That’s why I invited myself to join you.” 

It makes you feel uneasy to think that you were being so transparent. So much so that a complete stranger like himself was able to see right through you. 

“You think so? Wait until you hear how rough I’m feeling inside as well,” you bitterly said to him, drawing a soft smile to his face. 

“That makes the two of us then,” he said to you gently with his eyes on his glass of drink. There was a forlorn look in his eyes as he slowly twirled the glass, causing the liquid to swish around before he took another sip from it. 

“Care to share?” you questioned him before you could stop yourself, only to pull yourself back. “Sorry, that sounds creepy. We just met and here I am, prying into someone else’s business,” you nervously laughed.  

His gaze softened when he looked at you. Furthermore, he also seemed intrigued. 

“No, not at all.” His voice was calm, and it somehow helped to calm your nerves. “I was just about to lend an ear in case you needed someone to vent to. I never expected that you would be a step ahead of me before I could make the offer.” 

The comment he gave you made you feel warm inside. 

“Mine’s a long story,” you bitterly said to him as you raised your glass, almost giving in to the urge to take a hefty drink and finish it off when everything started coming back to you again.

The reason behind this trip, why you were stranded here on your own, while being far, far away from home, and all the drama that had gotten in the way when you had been so desperate to get away from everything. 

Unsurprisingly, the man merely shrugged. “I’ve got time to spare. My flight won’t leave until tomorrow. And that is if they’re allowed to fly out of here at all.” 

You smiled at him. “Same here. I guess we’re both stranded here all night, huh?” 

He leaned in just then, invading your personal space and filling it with his presence. And you didn’t even mind it as you leaned into him, meeting him halfway to welcome him into your little safety bubble. 

“And I was worried that I might get stuck feeling lonely while being stranded in this place,” he gently murmured, drawing a smile to your face.  

“I doubt that you would end up alone tonight,” you teased him, simply because there was no possible way that someone as attractive as he was would be returning to his hotel bedroom alone. 

His smile grew, yet the deep, dark look in his eyes shifted into something else. Something naughty and sinful. It made you feel a new sensation brewing inside even without him ever having to touch you. 

“Is that an invitation?” he asked with his deep voice that came grazing at your skin. 

Normally, you wouldn’t know what to say in return. It had been so long since you played this kind of game with someone. With anyone. But his presence and his words were drawing something out of you. A part of you that you never thought existed. And you surprised yourself when you played along, taunting danger head-on as you challenged this handsome stranger before you— 

“Would you like it to be?” 

Something flashed in his eyes. It was dark and intense, and it was sucking you in. It brought a myriad of sensations that unexpectedly went straight down to your core. 

In the deep silence that fell right after, the world around you faded. Even before you got to know his name, before you had the chance to share your story, you already knew the answer that he was about to give you as a response to your question. 

And you also knew right then, that the sparks that came rising around you were something that you would never be able to easily forget, even if every bit of memory you had about him would fade over time. 

Present…

Why do I keep thinking about that night all over again?

You can only wonder, as you keep being reminded of that eventful night. 

Weeks, nearly a month have gone by ever since, yet the memories seem to have been engraved deeply in your thoughts. And today, even though you haven’t really been thinking about it since, you suddenly find yourself having no trouble recounting everything that happened then. 

Well, almost everything. 

Some parts may seem blurry now. All due to the passing of time and the fact that you were partly inebriated at the time. But you can still recall some parts of the night that had clearly left a strong impression on you—the first encounter and the conversation you shared before alcohol took over, the instant attraction that you felt, but most of all, his entire presence. 

And they all have been coming into your thoughts while you are sitting here in the corner of your bathroom. Alone. With your arms wrapped around your folded knees and your eyes closed. As if you are waiting for a miracle to happen. 

You scoff at the thought. 

Right. Miracles. 

Years have long passed since you stopped believing that miracles do exist. Life always has its way of blindsiding you with its twists and turns that miracles no longer seem to matter anymore. 

Not for you, at least. 

Your past experiences have only caused you to look at it with sceptical eyes, sometimes even with bitterness, knowing that life has never been on your side. 

But here you are now, wishing, praying, holding onto hope that there would be a miracle to stop you from getting into a messy situation. One that you know you wouldn’t be able to handle on your own. 

After all, the perfect season of miracles is right around the corner. So it wouldn’t be so wrong for you to have some faith in them again now, would it? 

Your phone starts blaring with the sound of the alarm, snapping you out of it. Slowly, you rise on your wobbly feet. It feels as if your entire body has grown numb even before you get to face reality as it comes glaring back at you. 

Clutching onto the edges of your bathroom counter, you try to hold yourself together, and immediately failing, as you look at the two thin white strips lying on the cold counter and feel your entire world tilting off of its axis. 

All because of the two red lines that are clearly visible on each strip.

“Oh, fuck,” you softly groan. Deep down, you had already predicted this. Yet you kept denying it, hoping that you would be wrong.

“No, no, no—” you continue murmuring to yourself while wishing that you could somehow turn back time and change everything before things started going the wrong way. 

Back to this morning, when your roommate caught you—once again—throwing up last night’s dinner before handing you the unopened pregnancy test packs that she has been keeping safe in her room with the premise, “Just in case.” 

Or maybe you could return to last night when she pointed out your odd cravings—like dipping apples into peanut butter and eating leftover mac and cheese straight from the fridge without warming it in the microwave first—and joked about how you have been acting like a pregnant woman with your mood swings. 

Better yet, you wish you could go back to that night, back to that many weeks ago, when you allowed yourself to fall for a stranger’s charm which led you to spend the night with him. 

You close your eyes, once again murmuring to yourself, “This has got to be a dream.” 

But the moment you open your eyes again, nothing has changed. You are still standing there with your hands holding tightly onto the edges of the bathroom counter. And the two pregnancy test kits that you used are still lying on top of the counter for your eyes to see. 

A rapid sound of knocking on the bathroom door sends you jumping back. 

“Hey, ______? Is everything okay?” you hear your roommate, Skye, calling out for you. Her voice seems calm, yet when you recall hearing the sound of her footsteps moving back and forth outside of the door while you were taking the test, you know that she has been waiting just as anxiously as you were. “So—? What does it say?” 

Still in shock, and quite stuck in denial, you open your mouth only to have no words coming out of you. Your brain feels a bit hazy as you walk up to the door and open it for her. 

Skye takes one look at your face and her gaze softens. “What did it—” She shakes her head. “Oh, never mind, I’m dying to know. Let me see it,” she says as she brushes past you before you can say anything. 

Hoping that there is a chance that reality can change within the next few seconds, you refuse to turn around and once again close your eyes while she suddenly grows quiet.

Maybe you were just imagining things. Maybe you weren’t even looking at the test properly. Maybe—

“So, uhm—” you can hear Skye’s voice trembling a little as she hesitantly asks you, “Two lines mean it’s positive, is that right?” 

And just like that, every bit of hope you have in you flies out the window. “I wish I could say that it’s the other way around,” you softly murmur, feeling defeated. 

And the feeling grows stronger when you hear her cursing under her breath,

“Well, fuck.”

“What are you doing?” you ask Skye as you gingerly take a seat on the sofa. 

Once you both stepped away from the bathroom, she guided you to the living room while she sauntered away to the kitchen without a word. You can hear the noises she makes as she is busy rummaging through the counters. Yet you are too far away to see what she is up to. 

“Hang on a minute. Stay there,” she calls out without even looking. 

“Okay.” 

It’s not like you have any energy to go anywhere, after all. Your head is still spinning and you can barely feel your legs. It feels as if you are stuck in a bad dream and you just can’t get out of it. 

It doesn’t take long before Skye returns to your side, carrying with her two clean tall glasses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. It was the same bottle that you opened when you celebrated your promotion a couple of weeks ago after coming back from the trip. 

Holy shit, you inwardly cry out. Your heartbeat rises as your hands find their way to your stomach. 

“Okay, let’s try to calm down,” Skye says to you as she places both glasses on the table before you, although it seems to you more as if she is talking to herself instead of reassuring you while you are panicking inside.

A couple of weeks ago? Wouldn’t I have been already pregnant then? 

These thoughts keep running through your head as you watch your roommate pouring wine into both glasses, just like the night she did the same when you first opened that same bottle. 

Dear God, how much did I drink that night? You ask yourself with a grimace as you try to remember. 

Wait, no. I didn’t drink anything, you remind yourself. Relief washes over you look back at the celebration night where you barely took a sip before Skye took the glass away from your hands. 

Because you were already feeling sick that day. 

You had been feeling nauseous for days, throwing up once in a while and mostly on the days when you were lacking sleep because of the workload you had to handle for the upcoming promotion. All you ever did was wet your lips with the wine after the celebratory toast. That was the only contact you made with the drink before Skye replaced it with a tall glass of alcohol-free smoothie that she made especially for your ‘upset stomach’.

Of course, how did I not see the signs? You wonder again as you remember the sickly feeling you had after vomiting each morning and feeling powerless for the rest of the day. It even got so bad that you had to skip work for a couple of days at the beginning of your ‘sickness’. 

If only you knew then. 

Your eyes are still on the wine glasses as Skye places them side by side and puts away the bottle. 

“Uh—I believe we both just saw the two lines appearing on the test packs.” 

She lets out a light scoff and waves her hand at you. “They're both for me. I’m going to need them while I process this,” she says, shaking her head as she sits down to join you on the sofa. “You get to keep that smoothie.” 

You follow her gaze and look down at the glass of smoothie that you left on the table during the whole fiasco with the pregnancy test. While you pick up your drink, Skye takes a hefty drink from one of the glasses of wine and sits back. 

“So—you’re pregnant,” she murmurs to herself. Her gaze flickers to your face for a brief moment and nods to herself before taking another drink. 

Why does it seem like she is the one panicking? 

She releases a sigh. Neither of you says anything for a moment. But you can tell when she grows more anxious by the minute. You don’t understand why, until she carefully asks you, “Are you going to tell Han?” 

Confused, you look at her with your brows furrowed and ask, “Why would I tell Han that I’m pregnant?” 

Skye looks genuinely confused, almost as much as you are, and you only realise the reason why when she asks you, “Isn’t Hansol the father? You guys have been dating for a long time and I can’t remember ever seeing you with anyone else while you’re on a break.” 

You wince, realising too late that you have yet to tell her the truth.

“Actually—we’re not on a break,” you slowly admit with a low voice. Months have gone by, and even though it no longer hurts whenever you start thinking about your failed relationship or to mention your ex’s name, you cannot help but still feel bitter about how it ended and you hate talking about it. 

That is the reason why you haven’t said anything about it to anyone. Maybe you were just too embarrassed. After all, it isn’t so easy to admit that you may have been the reason why the four-year relationship fell into pieces. 

“I lied,” you say with a burst of deep sigh, “It was over, done, finished—”

“So you already broke up?” she cuts you off with a calm voice. 

You bite your bottom lip as you slowly nod your head. “Yeah,” you whisper, suddenly feeling like your throat is tightening up. Not because you feel the sudden urge to cry. But only because this is all becoming too much to take at once.  

“And the baby?” she carefully asks you. “It wasn’t Han—” 

“The baby isn’t his,” you quickly answer before she even gets to question about it. 

It’s hard enough to hear his name being mentioned after a while. It feels harder to think that you might be carrying his baby. 

But the moment those words come out of your lips, reality finally sinks in. Grabbing the glass of your drink, you take a hefty drink out of it. You wish there was some alcohol in this thing. Maybe it would have helped you think more clearly. 

That’s right. It couldn’t have been his.

Sighing to yourself, you begin to do the math. “We’ve been broken up for months, so if the baby is his, I’m sure I would be showing already by this time around,” you say this while gently rubbing your palm over your stomach. 

Now that your suspicions have been confirmed, the gesture feels almost natural to you that your hand simply moves before you realise it, though it helps confirm that nothing much has changed with your body.

It feels odd to think that there is a life existing inside you, yet you cannot really see it with just one look. This convinces you further that the baby couldn’t have been conceived while you were still dating your ex. Looking back to it now, once you remember when exactly the sickness and craving started, it would only make sense that the baby was conceived on that specific night. 

“So—if Hansol isn’t the Dad, then who was it?” 

Biting your lip, you turn to look at Skye. Of course, if there is anyone in this world that you can talk to about this, it would only be her. Just like how she would come to you first whenever she is in a bind, whether it’s about her relationships, about work, or even the smallest things like having a bad day where you end up sharing a tub of ice cream to feel better. 

After all, she isn’t just a roommate, but also someone you have known the longest compared to the other friends you’ve made since moving into this city. You have known each other since college, since back in freshman year when both of you were nothing more but young kids from small towns being thrust into the big city. 

Being put together in the same dorm room led you to become fast friends. After years of enduring the same hardship in college, the two of you remained so close that you even moved to this city together and continued to live in the same place to keep each other company. 

You have gone through everything with her, and you have always been honest with each other. It should have been easy to tell her everything. If only you could find the right words to begin sharing your story. 

“I have no idea where to start.” 

“Well,” Skye patiently says while twirling the glass of wine she’s holding. You squint your eyes at her when you find it almost empty. So unfair. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?” 

“Right. From the beginning,” you say this with a nod. “Do you remember when I went away last month?” 

She nods. “Your secret getaway. Still jealous of that, by the way.” 

You give her a small smile. “Yeah, well—there’s a reason why I insisted on going alone on that trip. I actually planned it as a surprise vacation for me and Hansol. The original idea was for us to have a romantic getaway for our fourth anniversary.” 

Skye raises her eyebrows. “Well, damn,” she mutters. “Let me guess. You broke up before it happened?” 

You grimace as you recall what happened. “Close enough,” you answer with a bitter smile. “It was because of the trip that we got a huge fight in the first place.” 

Skye tilts her head. “I’m not following.” 

Sighing, you drink your smoothie to cool down and swallow the bitter feeling you are suddenly getting. Recounting the break-up isn’t so much fun to do. Not even after this long. 

“I planned the entire thing on my own. Booked the flight and the hotel, and rearranged our schedules to fit each other so we could go on that exact date. But I never shared anything with him, except to confirm that it was a place that he also dreamt of going so we could both enjoy it together.” You let out a defeated sigh. “I wanted it to be a surprise. He used to love those in the past, so I figured it could be fun to celebrate our anniversary this way and get away from all the stress both of us had been getting.” 

You stop talking for a moment to remember those days. Both you and Hansol had been so busy back then that you could barely spend time with each other. 

It was the exact routine every day. Having long hours in the office and since you weren’t living together, you could only keep in contact with each other through texts and calls. By the time the two of you were able to see each other, all the stress had been piling up that you were almost always arguing and fighting instead of making up for all the time you missed while being apart. 

“We were talking about moving in together but all of a sudden, we stopped discussing it and I could feel us growing further apart. I thought going away from all the stress for a while would help us get along and make up for all the fighting. Maybe we could have had a chance to talk things out and figure out what to fix.” 

You stop with a soft sigh. “We were getting bored. With work, with life, and maybe we did get bored with each other but neither of us could open up about it, much less admit it. Not even to ourselves.” 

Skye lets out a groan. “This is why I don’t do relationships,” she mutters before finishing her drink. The first glass. With the second one waiting on the table.

You give her a scoff, but smile at her comment before continuing, “He found out about the trip by chance. I was still logged in on his laptop after I borrowed it to check on my work email while I was staying over on the weekend. He accidentally opened the booking details when he was checking his email, thinking it was his account. He suspected me of planning to go with someone else, but even after I told him that the trip was for both of us, he wasn’t having it.” 

Skye leans forward when she hears this. “Wait, he’s pissed about a secret vacation?” she asks, looking unhappy and confused at the same time. You can’t really blame her. Because that is exactly how you feel about your ex’s reaction. “Why would he be? If it had been me, I would’ve been ecstatic about going.” 

“I wish I knew,” you groan, feeling just as frustrated as you had been then. “But he wasn’t just refusing to go. He started blaming me. Saying something about me holding him back or something. He said he had no time for a trip when he needed to be there and work for his promotion.” 

Thinking back to that day, remembering about the fight and the things you said to each other, you are reminded of the moment the fight left your body. Because you knew then that there was nothing left to fight over. 

“He never even brought up the fact that it was the date of our anniversary. I don’t think he even knew or remembered it,” you say with a bitter chuckle. “He broke it off, saying that he wanted to focus on his career and I would be keeping him behind. And I agreed because I knew that we’d wound up hurting each other if we’d stayed.” 

“I can understand that,” Skye gently says. The two of you share a sad smile when your eyes meet. “And you still went on that trip,” she guesses, sounding proud. She lifts her glass to you and says, “Good girl.” 

You merely shrug. “When I went to cancel the tickets for the trip, I thought it would be such a waste to throw everything away. So I decided that going solo would be a good idea and kept mine. Besides, I needed a moment to heal myself and get away from the city for a short while.” 

She laughs, agreeing with you. Then, just as she is about to say something, she suddenly stops. A knowing look comes across her gaze and she slowly gasps. “Don’t tell me—” she says, “You met someone while you were there.” 

You nod your head slowly and press your lips together. “Once again, you’re close. But that’s not exactly what happened.” Blowing out a deep breath, you slowly ask her, “Remember when I told you that I got held up for a day in transit?” 

“Yeah, I was so jealous of you that I still remember everything you told me about that trip,” she lets out a dreamy sigh, then her gaze snaps back at you. “But, it seems to me that you haven’t told me everything about the trip.” 

“No, I didn’t.” You grimace. “Anyway, that’s when I met him—” 

The memories return to you again as you share with your roommate about your encounter with the beautiful stranger. You remember vividly the way he spoke, the deep and gentle voice that he spoke to you with, and his captivating smile that made you swoon. Everything about him that made it hard for you to leave and say goodbye to him. 

You recount the way you enjoyed each other’s company that even after your terrible mood gradually became much better, and after you finished yet another drink, you simply couldn’t walk away and end the night with him so soon. You stayed longer, losing count of the time you spent with him and the drinks you had. 

“And then, one thing led to another, it just happened.” 

Skye’s eyes have grown so wide at this point, and her jaw has dropped in her surprise that she looks almost comical. “You hooked up with a stranger during your transit?” she asks you. The moment you nod your head, she switches her empty glass with the other. “I would drink to that.” 

You laugh just as she takes a hefty drink as if celebrating on your behalf. “Why do you sound so proud of me?” 

“Well,” she slowly starts, “We’ve known each other for so long. You have always been so put together, always followed the rules, and you are always so good at what you do. From school, to work, even the little things you have been doing on the side. But not when it comes to your sex life.” 

You know that she is right about everything. But it doesn’t stop you from picking up a cushion and hitting her with it. 

“Hey, you know I’m right,” she says while laughing and protecting the precious glass of wine. “Come on, you’ve never had any casual relationships or random hookups, and every chance I could have gotten to hook you up with my guy friends was gone when Hansol came into the picture.” 

Pouting, you pull the cushion back and hold it tightly in your arms. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you admit with a sigh. “How do you get to know me so well?” 

“That’s because I love you enough to pay attention,” she smugly says while waving her glass around, sloshing the wine everywhere. “Why do you think I’ve been so protective of you over the years?” 

You roll your eyes and hit her with the cushion one last time, making her laugh, even though she is right. For as long as you have been friends with her, she has always been like an older sister to you. Not only for coming hard like a shield against the guys you ever introduced her to but also for the trivial things that not many people would pay much attention to. 

Like reminding you to eat properly when you are stressed out or too busy with work and school. 

You feel bad for relying on her so much over the years. But you also feel grateful about it. Just like how you’re feeling right now once you notice that you’re no longer feeling as stressed as you had earlier once you’re done dumping everything to her. 

Skye’s eyes turn back to you, landing on your covered belly as she curiously asks, “Are you positively sure that Hansol wasn’t the father?” 

You slowly nod your head. As much as you wish that you were wrong, you couldn’t have been mistaken about this.

“What are the odds that it was a false positive?” you suddenly question her, while she shrugs. 

“It’s possible,” she says. “But we can get some more test kits and redo the test. Just in case. Or you could make an appointment with the doctor straight away to make sure.” 

“Right, the doctor—” You let out a soft sigh and close your eyes briefly. It has been a while since you’ve seen your physician. The last time was before—

Oh, shit. 

Your eyes snap open right then. How long ago has it been since you’ve gone to see your physician? The last time was when you went to your regular appointment for your birth control. But that felt so long ago. 

Long before the trip. 

After that appointment, and once the break-up happened, you simply threw yourself into work so much you completely forgot about everything else. And since you were newly single, getting your birth control was the last thing you had in mind at the time. 

Fuck me, you inwardly groan without saying a thing to your roommate who is busy chattering about the doctor, making appointments, and offering to take you there herself. You know that she would lecture you about safe sex like a mother hen if you ever share this with her.

But wait…he wore a condom, right? Yes, you are quite sure he did. The details are blurry when you try to remember, but you do remember protection being involved. 

Groaning to yourself, you fall back on the sofa. Your head starts spinning again when you start worrying about other things. Once you start thinking of a problem that you may have to face, another one comes to mind. 

“What am I supposed to do with this baby?”  

Skye once again raises her eyebrows at you. “I think the right question should be what do you want to do?” she asks, while you can only shake your head.

“I don’t know,” you answer with a small voice. The only thing you can think of right now is how you are going to get through this holiday while being pregnant. You are supposed to be home for Christmas in two weeks, and knowing just how crazy your family truly is, you cannot imagine how they would react if they found out you are with a child. 

You close your eyes and let out a sigh. “And my family still have no idea that I broke up with Han.” 

“For once, I’m not jealous of your life,” Skye says as she sips her wine. But she is ready for it when you fling the cushion back at her and avoid it without spilling her drink. “Don’t worry. I think they’ll catch on about your failed relationship as soon as you walk into your family home without that hunk by your side.” 

Huffing, you hug the cushion in your arms and lean back. “I guess if they’re going to find out either way, I might as well just tell them the moment I got home.” 

Besides, it might be even harder to hide the fact that you are pregnant. You might not be showing yet, but there is no possible way you could avoid the questions that may come if you are still feeling so sick right in front of your family, or if your cravings suddenly get out of hand. 

Especially if Honey is there. Despite the early signs of dementia showing on her lately, your grandmother has always been so perceptive. And there is no telling what random things she may blurt out once she has some rum in her system. 

With so many different things to think about, you almost forget one important matter that you should be thinking about when it comes to the baby. And just like always, Skye is there to remind you of it. 

“Do you remember his name?” 

You turn to Skye with wide eyes, suddenly panicking inside. You can tell that she can see it on your face and is now sharing the same feeling when she suddenly knocks back the rest of her wine and groans, “Fuck, I’m gonna need more.” 

You watch her pour more wine into her glass, hastily drinking it right after, before turning to you again. “You didn’t get his name? At least tell me that you got his number before you went separate ways.”

You bite your lips. “It’s Tae.” 

“Tae—what?” 

You shake your head. “That’s it,” you let out a frustrated sigh. “That was the only name he ever gave me.” 

“Seriously?” 

Skye is freaking out, you can tell. But you close your eyes and rest your head back, shutting everything down as she starts ranting about how she was supposed to teach you better about hooking up with strangers and keeping yourself safe. 

With her voice turning into white noise at the back of your mind, your memories return to you, taking you back to the eventful night. 

You can almost feel yourself being back there again—back in the cold hotel bar with the scent of old wood and liquor lingering in the air; the murmuring sounds of people chatting and laughing, accompanied by the sound of glasses clinking together resonating through the space around you; back to his presence that felt so strong and intense you could barely feel anything else other than him as long as you had your attention fully on him.

“What’s your name?” You remember him asking you with his voice that grew more gentle and deeper the more he drank. 

You leaned into him and giggled in response as if he just said something funny to you. “Does it really matter?” 

His soft chuckle rumbled around you. The voice was so soft, yet you could hear it clearly because of how close you were leaning into him. “I’m sure I remember being taught not to talk to strangers.” 

“Are you telling me that you’ve been a good boy for listening to what your Mom taught you?” you teased him. It was obvious how tipsy you were at this point, which may have been the reason why you were growing more confident. 

“Oh, I’ve always been a good boy,” he answered you while looking amused. He went silent right after. His gaze seemed far away just for a fleeting moment before he finally said, “My name is Tae.” 

“Tae? That’s it?” you asked, “Is that a codename or something?” You feigned a surprise gasp before you leaned into him further to whisper, “Are you secretly a spy?” 

You felt his chest rumbling when he softly laughed. “Something like that, yeah,” he said, as he played along with your joke. 

But the moment you leaned away from him, you were surprised when you got to see something in him that you couldn’t see before. His guard was down, allowing you to see the vulnerability that was buried deep under his suave and smooth talking. 

For a brief moment, he looked broken. Just like you did. 

And from the way he was hiding himself, not only under the short nickname but also from the way he was masking his emotions, you could tell that he was looking for an escape from reality. The same way you did that night. 

So you simply smiled at him, choosing not to pry further to see beyond the mask and play along. Because at the same time, you wanted to hide your broken heart and become someone else to be able to forget everything. Just for one night. 

“Then you can call me Red. It’s my special codename for tonight.” 

His grin widened. You could almost see the relief washing over him through his warm gaze when he looked at you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you tonight,” he said, still with his gentle voice that almost felt like sin licking on your skin when he called you, “Red.” 

Two weeks later…

“Here you go,” your mother’s voice snaps you from whatever stupor you have been stuck in. When you open your eyes, a glass of ginger tea has manifested right before you. 

“Drink this,” your Mom says as she points at the drink. “It should be good for your stomach.” 

Your breath gets caught in your throat. Furrowing your brows, you keep your eyes on the drink instead of reaching for it. Thoughts of those past mornings when you and Skye spent searching through the internet to find a way to get rid of your morning sickness come through your mind. 

Does she know? Did she figure it out already? Is it really that obvious? 

You clench your hands and resist the urge to rub against your stomach. It has become a habit of yours to rub around your belly as if trying to feel the baby that is hiding inside whenever you feel agitated.

After getting the positive results through the home test kits, you had gone straight to the doctor only days before you left the city to have it checked, confirming that a baby is growing inside you. It still feels unbelievable to think about it, even after you saw it yourself with your own eyes. 

“It’s still really early, and we might not be seeing much yet, but that’s your baby,” the doctor’s voice echoes through your mind as you tighten your clenched hands, thinking back to the day you went to have an ultrasound and saw for the first time the growing fetus that was said to be viable to grow fully as a baby. 

Just like how the baby inside you has been nothing more than a blob of mass floating inside your stomach in your mind, your belly itself has yet to change shape. Even if your full awareness of the baby’s presence has only been causing you to find small changes in your body that nobody else might be able to see. 

But Mom has been pregnant before, so wouldn’t she be able to see it? Will that be possible?

“Ginger tea is good for nausea and will give you some energy boost. Your grandma always made it for me whenever I had a stomach ache. I’m sure it’ll help get rid of your nausea and your upset stomach will turn better in no time.” Your Mom stops talking and sighs. “You should’ve told me that you were sick. I wouldn’t have let you drive all the way home if I had known.” 

Ah. 

You breathe a sigh of relief. You should be thankful that she believed you when you told her about having an upset stomach from the long drive home from the city. It was the only thing that you could think of as an excuse when your Mom wondered why you hadn’t been eating well since you got back home and why you were feeling sick.

It makes you wonder why you have been feeling unwell since you got home. Just when you had purposely waited until you were well enough and had stopped throwing up when you planned for the drive. 

It’s almost as if the baby is deliberately making you sick to let everyone know about your secret.

“Thanks, Mom,” you say to your Mom as you reach for the tea, hiding your relieved sigh as you gingerly drink in small sips. 

You have lost count of how many times Skye has made you this drink specifically to stop you from vomiting in the morning before going to work. It has been helping a lot to ease your ‘sickness’, and you are feeling it calming your stomach already as the drink warms your body. 

You can feel your mother’s eyes on you, making you feel uneasy to be under her watchful gaze. “I think it might be better if you get some rest and take things easy. But are you sure you’re okay?” your Mom asks again, still worrying about you. 

You continue drinking the ginger tea slowly while pressing down your guilt. You hate lying to your Mom the most, and now you are starting to regret driving home on your own. If the baby hadn’t been the one responsible for your current sickness, then perhaps driving the long distance has been the reason why your nausea is now coming back with a vengeance.

So much for trying to not draw any suspicions. 

“I’m fine, Mom. Really,” you sigh as you place the glass down. “The tea is helping me already. I’ll feel better soon, I promise.” 

Your Mom says nothing for a moment, but the crease you see forming on her forehead says differently. “I’m not just talking about you being sick. Maybe there’s another reason why you’re feeling faint?” 

You look up at her just then. The moment you catch the pitiful look she is giving you, you finally understand what she is trying to say. 

Just as Skye predicted, it didn’t take long for your family to take notice of your solo arrival. In the past, Hansol would have joined you to visit your family for a day or two during the holidays before he would return to his family on Christmas day. So his absence was quite obvious from the get-go. 

And with the big lie that you have to hide from everyone at home, you had to at least give them one honest truth the moment they started asking. 

“We ended things a few months ago,” you admitted to your family during the first dinner you had since you got home. By that time, you had already tried to avoid the questions for long enough. Nobody has brought up about it again since then. 

Until now. 

“If you’re talking about the breakup, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m okay, Mom. It’s been months since it happened. I’ve been trying to move on.” 

In fact, you haven’t been thinking about your ex at all for a long time. Not until you brought it up to Skye and then again when your family started questioning. The only thing you have been worrying about lately is the baby growing inside you and finding a way to search for the father of the baby. 

It was the one thing that you talked about with Skye before you left. While you are capable enough to raise the baby on your own, you decided it would be the best course of action to contact the father and let him know.

In Skye’s own words, “Just in case.” 

Just in case the father would care enough to know that he has a son or a daughter coming into this world and wants to be in their life. 

“But if we fail to find him or he wants nothing to do with the baby, then we’ll deal with it on our own. You just got your promotion, I got my good pay. We can raise the baby together. You and me, just like old times.”

Skye’s words put a smile on your face. She always knows how to lift your spirit up whenever you feel like giving up, and those exact words have helped boost your confidence and made you believe that you could get through this. 

But first, you just need to get through spending this holiday with your family. 

“I know you said that. But as your Mom, I can’t help but worry. I thought you were serious and we’ll be hearing some good news about you getting married this year.” 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Sorry, Mom,” you tease her with a bitter chuckle. You don’t bother to mention that the two of you had never once talked about marriage throughout your relationship.

Yet another sign that you overlooked. At least you never got to waste anymore time with him.

“Things just didn’t work out between us. It happens when a couple grow into two different people in the course of their relationship. Which was exactly what happened to us. Hansol wanted to focus on his career, in return, I also got the chance to focus on mine.” 

Just as you said the words, you realise that this is true for your case. 

Hansol has always been career-driven, and it has been growing stronger lately for him with the constant rise he was experiencing in his current company. And breaking up with your long-time boyfriend has allowed you to turn your focus on your job. The recent promotion you gained was a testament to your hard work to show you that there might be a silver lining to everything that has happened. 

“I suppose you’re right,” your Mom says with a smile. You are beginning to feel a bit relieved that she seems to understand. You are hoping that she would start talking about something else when she adds, “I just feel sad that it didn’t work out for you. And we were all expecting to have Hansol joining us again this year. I guess it’s too late now to let your sister know about this since she’s supposed to arrive today.” 

Stepsister. 

You lift your glass and slowly drink your tea to stop yourself from correcting her. For some reason, you feel a bit bitter having your mother mention her all so suddenly. 

It isn’t that you hate your stepsister. It’s hard to feel something so extreme when you barely had any relationship with her at all. Back when you were younger, your mother did try to get you two to get along and be friends. 

To make her happy, you tried your best to act friendly, or at least to be cordial whenever she was around, even when the only thing she showed you over the years had been nothing but contempt. 

But things changed after a drunken fit that she had last holiday season, when she got drunk and tried to make a move and openly flirted with your then-boyfriend. Even if nothing ever came out of it except for her own embarrassment, as Hansol openly rejected her and stayed away from her for the remaining time he was here, the incident still left a bad taste that made you feel bitter. 

That was when you finally decided that you would stop trying to be nice.

You put down the glass and try to remain calm. What’s done is done. All you have to do is focus on getting through this holiday before going back to the city and start with your mission to search for the baby’s father.

“What does Alia have to do with my break up?” you ask your mother, hoping that she wouldn’t bring up the drama from last year. 

“Oh, it’s nothing serious, really,” your Mom answers with a soft chuckle, “It’s just that Alia called home sometime last week, asking if she could bring someone over this Christmas. She said that she’s been seeing someone new and since she was bringing him to meet her mother, she wondered if it would be okay if she could bring him along to meet us too.” 

Your Mom sighs, looking a bit guilty when she adds, “We figured since you might bring Hansol with you, it would be okay if she has her new boyfriend along. Maybe the guys could get along and spend time together while you and Alia catch up.” 

You try to imagine you and Alia catching up like old friends or—just like what your Mom has been wishing you to be—as sisters, and you almost shake your head. 

Yeah, that seems unlikely, you bitterly wonder to yourself, yet you don’t have the heart to tell your mother that there is not much hope for you and Alia to be good friends. 

“I guess it’s a shame that Hansol isn’t here,” you simply say to your mother while you inwardly wonder just what your stepsister is really up to this year. 

“Yeah, it’s unfortunate,” your mother says with a sigh. “But I’m glad that at least both of you girls can make it home this year.” 

“Me too, Mom,” you force a smile, silently hoping that you can start talking about something else. Something that doesn’t concern your bitter stepsister coming home or bringing up any dark thoughts about your ex. “So, what are we having for dinner? Want my help in the kitchen?” 

Your question immediately puts everything into motion, drifting her attention away from your sappy story and the false hope of sisterhood that may never happen between you and your stepsister. Your Mom tries to stop you from helping out in the kitchen at first but finally gives in when you keep insisting. 

At least, this way, you can keep your mind busy enough to stop it from thinking about unnecessary thoughts the way it often does when you are alone. 

Things seem to be going on well enough at first, until your sickness returns and you have to give up trying. 

”See, I told you that you should be resting until you feel better,” your mother complains as she watches you bending over, keeping away from the stove and what is currently cooking on top of it which seems to be making you feel dizzy and sick. 

After garlic, lemon-scented air freshener, and coconut milk, seems you are going to have to add raw chicken to the list of things that may trigger your nausea.

“But then I’ll be bored like hell,” you argue, “I’m fine, Mom. Just let me take a quick break for a minute.” 

Your mother looks as if she wants to say something, but the sound of a car coming into the driveway interrupts her. Both of you turn to look out towards the living room, just in time to see your stepfather, Cliff, turning in the corner of the hall and rushing towards the front door. 

“Honey, they’re here!” he calls out, and you urge your mother to join him. 

“Go, Mom. I’ll finish things up and make sure nothing gets burned before I join you guys.”

Once your mother is out of the kitchen, you can no longer resist pressing your palm on your stomach. 

“Seriously, baby,” you whisper to the non-existent bump under your sweater, “Please take it easy, will you? I’m really struggling here, and you’re not making things easy for me. Trust me, it would be too soon for everyone to find out about you. At least wait until we can find a clue about your Dad, okay?” 

As if the baby inside you is listening, even if it is still barely full-grown at this point, your body grows calmer and the nausea slowly wanes. 

“Thank you, baby,” you whisper to your stomach once again before finally focusing on the stove and the oven, deliberately taking your time with what you do just so you can have a reason not to join the dramatic reunion happening right this minute. 

From this side of the kitchen, the front door isn’t completely visible. But you can hear everything as the door opens and your stepfather joyfully welcomes his daughter. 

Hearing his voice makes you smile. You may have had a tumultuous relationship with your stepsister, but the same cannot be said with your stepfather. Cliff has always been a great role model, and your relationship with him has always been great from the start. 

It makes you feel guilty when you think about the previous encounters where you and your stepsister simply gave each other cold shoulders or when you were met with altercations just because of how different the two of you are. But there is no helping it. Nothing has changed over the years no matter how hard you tried. Not even once you have become adults. 

You can’t even remember how it first started. And frankly, you no longer care. Last year’s incident was already enough to let you know that the sisterhood that your parents have been forcing you into was beyond saving. 

The voices coming from the front door continue for a moment longer. This time, you get to hear your mother’s voice joining in the conversation and Alia’s soft voice answering her questions. You make no effort to listen to what they are saying and tune out their voices, until your mother’s voice calls out to you. 

“______, your sister is here. Come and say hi.” 

Your mother’s words make you stop. Slowly, you turn down the heat on the stove and turn to make your way towards the front door to join the family reunion. 

“It’s stepsister,” you mutter under your breath as you drag your feet, taking your sweet time while you try to compose yourself before having to face the unwanted guests. 

As you turn around the corner, merely moments before the front door finally comes into view, you get to hear another voice speaking. The voice that you couldn’t clearly hear from the kitchen while you were tuning their conversation out. 

“I’m sorry for intruding. But thank you for having me here.” 

That voice. 

You immediately come to a halt. An uneasy feeling runs through your body when you realise that you recognise this voice and have grown to know it quite well. 

There is no mistaking it. You may not have gotten his full name on the night you met, and his face has somewhat become a faint mirage in your dreams at night whenever you are taken back to the night of your hookup.

But you cannot say the same about his voice. 

That deep and gentle voice will always be engraved in your memory. Even now, the only thing you would need to do is close your eyes and listen, and allow the voice to take you back to that specific night once more, where he used this voice to say sinful words that you could feel caressing your fragile heart while he was bringing you to the peak of pleasure.

And now you are hearing that voice here, at your home, idly chatting with your mother by the front door. 

“_______, are you coming?” your mother calls again, and you know that there is no avoiding it. You have to face reality, even if that means you must come face to face with the man who is responsible for placing you in this situation.

Tamping down the rush of nerves going through your body, you slowly march ahead. Bracing yourself as you turn around the corner and enter the living room where everyone is currently gathering in.

Your eyes fall on your stepsister first. 

Alia has always looked so vibrant and beautiful, drawing all kinds of attention from everyone in the room whenever she is present. Yet when you look at her now, there seems to be a new kind of light emerging from her. Even her smile seems brighter as she chats along with your stepfather.  

And you soon realise the reason why she is shining brightly today as you turn your gaze to look at the person standing beside her. To finally see him. 

He looks just like how you remember him. Tall and lean, with his arms and chest filling up his sweater. He has his hair falling over a part of his face, just enough of a mess that seems as if he has been running his fingers through the wavy strands. As he converses with your mother, he shows his boxy grin that seems familiar to your eyes. 

Too familiar. 

Because it looks just the same as the wide grin that was teasing and flirting with you on one eventful night at the transit hotel weeks ago. 

No. That can’t be.

The baby’s daddy is here. The man who you were planning to look for once you return to the city. 

He is here, today, appearing at the front door of your parents’ home together with your stepsister. His long fingers that had once entangled between the strands of your hair are now entwined with your stepsister’s dainty fingers. And there is no mistaking the matching couple rings that are glowing under the sunlight coming from their entwined hands. 

Before you get the chance to process what is happening, you hear him introducing himself to your stepfather, “It’s good to see you, Sir. My name is Taehyung.” 

No. 

You stifle a gasp. It feels like you have been sucker-punched right in the chest that you can barely breathe. 

Taehyung, you wonder. Tae? 

All of a sudden, you feel as if the ground beneath your feet is tilting over, slowly taking you down with it. And since you seem to have lost the ability to move your feet, the only thing you can do to stop yourself from falling is to clench your hands tightly by your side. Tight enough to feel pain as your nails are sinking into your palms, convincing you that this is not a dream. 

Yet you are still in denial as you watch the interaction happening right before your eyes. Because there is no way this is happening. There is no possible way that it is truly him. 

Please. Please don’t let it be him. 

It must have been your mind playing tricks on you. Because there is no way that he is here. Not as your stepsister’s new boyfriend. 

This must be a mistake. Yes, you are probably confused and all the thoughts of finding your baby daddy are messing up with your head, forcing you to believe that your stepsister’s new boyfriend is your mysterious baby daddy. The fact that they have the same name must have been pure coincidence. 

For once in your life, you don’t want to be right. You have to be wrong. 

Please tell me that it’s not him. 

Just then, as if life was listening to your prayers, as if life has yet to have enough of its games to play around with your heart, the man turns his gaze away from your parents. And those pretty eyes land on you. 

As if there is a switch turned, the brightness in his gaze fades. His beautiful eyes are filled with recognition. It is so subtle that you are quite sure that nobody else around you notices it, but it is enough to let you know that your memories have been right all along. 

Because those are the same eyes that you saw looking back at you with pure lust and sin while he was bringing you wanton pleasure, when you made love as if both of you had been under a spell, right on the very night that may have changed your fate forever. 

Fuck. 

Me.

At one glance, this moment would seem like any other pre-holiday family dinner. It may seem picture perfect, even—if you had been a stranger looking in. 

There are still a couple of days left until Christmas Day, yet the festive mood has already filled the room. From the living room, all the way to the dining room, Christmas decorations are already plastered across the walls and hung from the ceiling. On the dining table, the delectable meal that your mother worked hard to prepare—with your poor assistance—had been perfectly laid out. 

With Alia’s arrival today, the immediate family is now complete. Ever the charming daughter, Alia takes up the attention of everyone around her as she shares her story—about how she has been travelling between different states and some neighbouring countries, changing jobs, finding new hobbies, and even planning to adopt a new pet. 

Sitting at the head of the table, your stepfather is soaking it all in, enjoying the time he has with his daughter whom he rarely gets to see throughout the year. Your mother sits on his right, getting the front seat of their merry reunion. She would sometimes chime in, never failing to try to get you into joining their idle chat even when you are not feeling up to it. 

Other times, you would have been able to easily play along. From making cordial comments and joining with all the light jokes shared by your family, or feigning interest in anything that Alia might be sharing at the table—even when she rarely would share the same courtesy when you did the same. 

Tonight, however, it feels like a struggle for you to focus on the conversation shared at the table, let alone pretend to be interested. Not when you are busy trying your best to calm your nerves. 

You can't even embrace the same warm atmosphere that everyone seems to be sharing. 

For you, the air around feels stifling and tense. It has been this way ever since you sat down right next to your mother for dinner. Because due to the seating arrangement, the special guest of the night is now sitting right across from you at the table. 

Taehyung. 

The last person that you had ever expected to see. Not here. Certainly not at your home or sharing the same space with your parents. 

It seems surreal to meet him here like this. Even more so when he was introduced to your family as Alia’s new boyfriend.

Judging from the way he reacted when he first saw you, you can tell that he never expected something like this could ever happen. You know that he has questions, perhaps just as much as you do, yet the situation that you found yourself in right now isn’t allowing you to even show any sign that the two of you know each other or to have met before today. 

But there is something in the way he is looking at you that doesn’t sit right with you. Aside from the lingering shock you see each time your eyes accidentally meet each other, there is a look that shows a semblance of guilt, despair, and at the same time, filled with wonder. 

Was it because he never expected to see you again after that night, much less to find out that you are somehow related to the woman that he is dating? Or was there something else going through his mind? 

“This is Alia’s sister, ______,” was what your mother said when she first introduced you to him. At that point, you and Taehyung were stunned to silence, and for a brief moment, neither of you reacted. 

Thinking about it now, you can’t even remember how you managed to join your family in the living room. The moment you saw Taehyung standing there, your legs nearly gave out. It was a wonder how you managed to stop yourself from falling or tripping as you walked over to them in a state of distraught. 

“Hi, it’s good to see you,” was all that you managed to croak out of once you snapped out of it. You didn’t even give him a chance to respond when you suddenly turned your attention to your stepsister, forcing a smile on your face when you greeted her, “Hey, Alia. It’s good to see you. You seem well.” 

You can’t even remember the expression that Alia gave you when she responded to you, “Uh yeah, thanks. You too.” 

“Right. Well, I’ll let you guys settle in. I left the stove on, so—” 

That was the last thing you said before you turned away and quickly left the room, practically running away from him to hide back in the kitchen. The last thing you heard as you walked away was your mother’s voice saying something about you being her assistant of the day in the kitchen while you were feeling unwell, as if excusing you for your unmannerly attitude. 

By the time you got back in the kitchen, your hands were shaking, your heartbeat was racing so fast you could barely breathe. It took a long time for the shock to wane, and you had spent the rest of the day staying away from both of them, avoiding him entirely until you were finally called to join dinner. 

And you are still avoiding him even now, keeping your head down as much as you can and resisting the urge to look his way. As if it isn’t hard enough for you to have him sitting right in front of you, you can feel the heat of his gaze constantly following you whenever you are not looking.

He doesn’t make it so obvious, and it doesn’t seem like anyone else has noticed it yet. Perhaps you are just too hyperaware of his presence that you caught on to it so easily.

You sneak a glance at your stepsister, wondering if Alia has taken notice of her boyfriend’s wandering gaze or where he has been directing his eyes. It takes you watching the conversation between her and your parents more closely to see it. 

Because it turns out that she also has her own gaze wandering to questionable places at the same time that she isn’t paying much attention to her boyfriend. 

Each time Alia turns to regard your mother or speak to her, her gaze flickers away briefly, ever so subtly landing on the seat to your right. At the seat that Hansol would usually occupy whenever he joined you during these holiday visits. 

It is easy to catch it when you are seeing it from your angle. And it is easy to guess what is going through her head when she keeps doing it with a curious look written all over her face. An unspoken question seems to linger, while the incident from last year keeps flashing through your head when you picture Hansol being present beside you. 

Even if nobody notices her intention, you doubt that anyone would question her about it, seeing that the seat that was supposed to be left empty has been taken by someone else. 

While you are busy trying to make sense out of everything, your grandmother makes a disapproval noise with her tongue, grabbing your attention. “Are you still feeling under the weather? You’ve been drinking that boring thing the whole day,” she says, referring to the glass of iced tea that you have just put down after taking a drink from it to cool down. 

You turn to look at your dear grandmother, Honey, and smile at her. She probably hasn’t realised what a saving grace she has been for taking the unoccupied seat to your right the minute she came in for dinner. 

And she is now helping you again by drawing your attention away from the source of your dismay. Immediately, you feel better the moment you are met with Honey’s smile. 

“I’m feeling much better, actually. I’m just being careful not to drink anything that might get me sick,” you answer carefully, hoping to sound reasonable enough without making anyone question your ‘sickness’ any further. 

The more you lie to your family about it, the more guilty you feel. You don’t have much choice at the moment but to hide it just a bit longer. 

At first, you couldn’t share the news with your parents simply because you were still clueless about how you were going to find the father of the baby with only limited information you had of him. But then things only got even more complicated for you to ever come clean when he walked through the front door of your parents’ home. 

What are the odds that the man you hooked up with turns out to be the man your stepsister is currently dating? And here you are now, stuck in the same room with them while hiding a secret which may change the course of everyone’s entire life.

Yeah, miracles don’t exist. Not for me, at least.

Honey taps at your hand on the table as you grow silent, oblivious to the thoughts running through your head. “You know what you need?” she asks, whispering in a conspiring tone that she barely keeps down so that everyone at the table can still hear her voice. 

And she does it while looking at you with her wide, expecting eyes, with the barely concealed mischief written all over her face. It makes you smile, knowing where this is going. So you simply play along. 

"No, Honey. What would that be?” 

Her mischievous smile widens as she leans closer. “A hint of rum. With a few drops into that boring tea of yours, you’ll feel better in no time,” she says, lifting her hand and showing you a pinching gesture with her thumb and forefinger nearly touching each other, “Just a pinch. Or better yet, just trade your whole glass—” 

The sound of your Mom’s frustrated sigh cuts her off. “Mom, I already told you, giving her alcohol isn’t going to make her feel better. I’ve already given her some herbal tea, that should be enough until she can get a proper rest.”

“Oh, posh,” Honey says, waving her hand at your mother. “Ignore your Mom,” Honey says just as you are about to respond. “I’m telling you. Alcohol is best to cure your heartbreak,” she adds, and you certainly have no arguments against that. Alcohol might be able to help you forget. 

But, alas…

But, wait a minute. You stop and look closely at Honey. What is she talking about? 

“What do you mean?” you question her while tilting your head, wondering deep down if she had noticed something. Surely, she wouldn’t be able to tell the high tension rolling between you and Taehyung through dinner. 

Nobody else could. But you also know that if there is anyone in your family who might be able to catch on with the tension rolling between the two of you, it would be Honey. 

Once again, Honey reaches out and taps her dainty fingers on the back of your hand. “Isn’t that why you’re feeling down, peaches? I know you’re still thinking about that good for nothing—” 

Honey stops herself and bites down her smile before you can figure out what she is about to say. But you have heard enough to understand who she is referring to. 

Relief washes over you when you realise that she was talking about your ex, Hansol. She must have thought that you have been stressing over the breakup and you have been feeling unwell because of it.

Honey leans in, this time lowering her voice just enough only for you to hear. “You must’ve taken it from me. I also get a stomach bug when I’m stressed out. Just like last summer when I lost a go-stop game against the ladies from the block,” she says, before she continues blabbering about how she had made bets during the game and went all-in only to lose everything. 

“You might think that they’re nothing but small pennies used for gambling coins, but I spent a whole week collecting them. How am I supposed to replace all of them before the next game?” she continues to complain, while you laugh at her. 

Her story takes away the tension on your shoulders for a brief moment before she adds, “And then you had to come here and watch these two being all lovey-dovey with each other.” 

As Honey mentions the pair sitting across the table, waving her hand at them to make a point, your eyes are drawn towards them once more. And your gaze lands right on Alia’s hand which is now resting on top of Taehyung’s. 

Seeing this makes you feel tight in the chest. Bitterness fills your mouth which you can barely hide with a tight smile. Honey may not have been entirely correct with her assumptions, yet her comment still hits the mark somehow. 

Not about Hansol, obviously, as he is the one to occupy your mind the least. Yet she wasn’t too far off when she talked about the new pair of lovers before you. Seeing them does make you uncomfortable, miserable even, but for entirely different reasons. 

Looking away from their joined hands, your gaze meets Alia’s. She is wearing an unreadable expression on her face as she listens in to Honey’s words. And the strange look that she is giving you now is making you feel uneasy.

Just as you start wondering if Alia has noticed something, she instead asks you, “You guys broke up?” 

She throws a quick glance at Honey’s seat with a frown. For others, she might seem concerned, yet there is a look in her eyes which tells you that there is something more. “I was wondering why I haven’t seen him around. He was with us last holiday.” 

Her comment rubs you in the wrong way. You have no idea why she would care when your relationship has nothing to do with her. But you try to not let it bother you. “Yes, it’s been months now since we broke up. I only told Mom and Dad yesterday when I first got home.” 

“I see,” she says. Her voice comes out so softly that it almost comes out as a murmur. She pulls her hand back and places it on her lap. “That’s too bad. I’m sorry,” she adds while offering a small smile. And for some reason, she also seems guilty. 

Does she think it has something to do with what happened last year? 

Her words remind you of something that she said to you last year, back on the morning you confronted her after her drunken blunder which happened the night before. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking. I didn’t mean anything, I swear. It’s just drunk talking.” 

That incident shouldn’t be bothering you today. Yet it still makes you feel bitter when you think about it. The feeling only grows worse when you glance at Taehyung who is showing a sudden interest in this whole thing. 

“It’s fine. Sometimes things just don’t work out,” you simply repeat the same thing you said to your mother earlier while biting back the real question that is hanging right at the tip of your tongue. 

But what’s in it to you? 

No matter how curious you are to know what kind of scheme that is going through her pretty little head, you know it’s not worth all the drama that it might cause. You cannot even possibly imagine the drama that would unfold once this whole baby thing comes out.

God, just thinking about it is already making your stomach churn. Your lower abdomen suddenly feels hard and heavy. As if you have a full-size lead inside instead of a small, growing blob that is about to form into an actual living baby within a few weeks from now. 

Thinking about the baby, your eyes find the man who is behind all of this. He has grown oddly quiet while you were conversing with your stepsister and is now staring at his food with a frown on his face.

“So tell me,” you ask calmly while clenching your hands, doing your best to hide the trembles, “How did you two meet?”

This question immediately draws Taehyung’s attention. His eyes snap up, but the moment he looks at you, his face seems to grow pale and he becomes awfully nervous.

“We, uh—we used to work at the same company before Alia left to venture into other things,” he says, almost stuttering. He also keeps stealing glances at Alia, as if begging her to help him out. 

Huh, strange.

What is it about answering your simple question which makes him so nervous? 

Or perhaps…

Have they been seeing each other when the two of you hooked up? 

Fuck. 

The moment this thought crosses your mind, you suddenly feel sick. Your stomach grows heavier with anxiety. Meanwhile, Alia’s smile seems to beam brighter. 

“We didn’t work in the same division back then, but we would frequently meet during breaks and company hours. Had it been, what, a year after we last met?” Alia turns to Taehyung, who stiffly nods his head. She grabs his hand once again and looks at him lovingly as she continues, “We met again last summer by chance while I was travelling and started talking since then.” 

Last summer? But that was before—

Your head starts spinning. You grab your glass and take a couple of small sips of your tea to regain composure, yet the drink suddenly tastes bitter on your tongue. 

Honey’s voice barely registers in your brain when she responds with a hum. “Travelling in the summer? That sounds like a charming way to meet a new lover,” she says, lifting her mug to her lips as she continues marvelling at your stepsister’s story. “You must have felt some sparks when you two met. I bet you’re still feeling it now, aren’t you?”

You have no idea what she has inside that ceramic mug, as she had been nursing the same drink since even before dinner started. You can bet money that she had more than a pinch of rum dropped inside that drink of hers, seeing how talkative she is becoming. 

Oh, how you wish you could have a taste of it. Just a sip would have been good enough. Maybe it can also help to stop your hands from trembling. 

“And the ring?” Honey asks again with a teasing tone as she points at their entwined hands. “I noticed that you two are wearing matching rings. You can’t possibly be engaged already, can you?” 

Almost choking on your drink, you slowly set your glass back down and pull your hands onto your lap, hiding them from prying eyes just in time as they begin to shake.

“But it wasn’t that different back in the day,” Honey continues, “I remember that Russ—that’s my dear late husband,” she explains to Taehyung, “he bought me a cheap ring at the beginning of our relationship to show me and my parents that he was serious about courting me.” 

On any other times that Honey would speak about your late grandfather, you would always enjoy listening to every word, admiring how she would always share her story with pure love in her voice and wonder glowing in her eyes. 

But not this time. 

Ever since she pointed out the ring and started talking about your grandfather’s old promises, you start having trouble breathing. The more she speaks, the worse it gets, and now there is a ringing sound echoing in your ear that seems to be coming from different directions. 

“I still keep the ring with me, side by side with the wedding ring that doesn’t fit anymore on these wrinkly fingers of mine,” Honey keeps gushing. She raises her hands and starts wiggling her fingers to show them off, while your whole body grows tense. 

Alia shares a nervous laugh with Taehyung and waves her hand at Honey. “Oh, no…it’s actually a part of a joke that we—” 

You try to tune out the voices, the words that are being said, while clasping your hands tighter together on your lap, but the shaking doesn’t stop. Alia’s voice fades in and out beyond the loud ringing in your head as she continues to tell her story about how they started dating and the ring came to be. With everything that is going on, added with your awareness over Taehyung’s intense gaze that doesn’t seem to waver, it becomes too overwhelming that you feel as if you are slowly being swallowed into the ground beneath you. 

With a sharp gasp, you slowly push yourself out of your seat. “Excuse me, I have to—” your voice cracks as you speak. As you stand, you notice that everyone has their eyes on you, all curious to know what is happening with you. 

“_______?” you hear your mother calling you.

You can feel the blood draining from your face under all the unwanted attention, making you wish that you could just fade away right at that moment. But then your hand find its way to your stomach, and it almost feels like there is a touch of warmth forming under your palm. It helps you force a smile and gather yourself just enough to say, “I’m sorry, but I’m not feeling well, so I’m going to step out early. I hope that’s alright. You guys enjoy the rest of dinner.” 

You don’t wait for anyone’s response as you turn away, finding your escape merely moments before you get into a full-blown meltdown right in front of everyone. 

Your legs are wobbly as you walk down the hall, yet you still manage to slip into the guest bathroom downstairs. With trembling hands, you lock the door behind you, shutting yourself from the world outside. 

And that is when you fall apart, turning into a heaving mess as everything that you have been bottling up inside comes flooding out of you. 

“Breathe,” you command yourself while you fight back against your nausea. Holding onto the bathroom counter, you keep yourself and try your best to focus on controlling your breath. 

Take a slow, deep breath. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. 

Little by little, all the tension, the trembling, and the tightness in your chest begin to wane. But once everything is gone, once you begin to find calmness, your emotions seize control of you.

The next thing you know, an unstoppable flow of tears comes running down your face and you start sobbing, crying in defeat. 

“Shit. Fuck. What a mess,” you curse between each sob, feeling absolutely helpless and alone. You close your eyes, hoping that you can clear your head by doing so. Yet your mind keeps going to dark places. Constantly wondering and questioning about all of this. 

About him. 

“Did he ever mention anything that was related to his personal life that night?” you cannot help but wonder out loud. 

Only silence answers. Because you hold little to no recollection of the details from the conversation you shared with him that night. Whenever you try to remember, it always feels like there was a part of your memory that had gone missing. 

You haven’t had the slightest clue of the things you shared with him at the bar once the drinks started coming more frequently. Which is a wonder, because you are completely sure that neither of you had gotten drunk enough to experience a blackout, much less lose a memory.

At least for you, the alcohol was just enough to burn through your nerves and help build your confidence to take the lead and openly show the attraction you had for him. Even if he did end up taking back control the moment the two of you finally gave in to temptation. 

Your head starts pounding, aching the more you try to remember the missing details. Meanwhile, all the questions won’t stop coming, making it harder for you to regain a peaceful mind.

Did he ever mention having a girlfriend, or at least give any hint that he was taken? 

Was he wearing that ring on his finger when he was touching your skin under the dim light of his bedroom suite? 

You shake your head and close your eyes again when you still remember nothing. The only thing that remains in your memory is the look you saw in his gaze that night. The pitiful look that seemed to mirror yours, making you believe that he was looking for the same thing you did that night. 

An escape. A way to forget even if for a moment. 

But what if that was all just another lie? 

Your stomach churns. A sharp pain comes shooting through your body. It starts from your lower abdomen, causing you to almost double over. 

Fuck. Now what? 

Your hand instantly comes down to your stomach, pressing and rubbing gently against it until the uncomfortable ache ebbs under your touch. 

Right, I’m supposed to avoid any form of stress, you remind yourself as you recall what your doctor told you the last time you went to see her. Something about getting your blood tension rising when you are stressed, and that it wouldn’t be good for both you and the baby in the long run. Closing your eyes, you try to think of happy thoughts, all while keeping your palm pressed on your stomach.

To your surprise, rubbing your palm against the barely-there baby bump on your belly isn’t just helping you to soothe the pain away, but also to calm yourself down. 

With a sigh, you gently wipe your tears and look down. “I’m sorry for swearing so much, baby. I promise to stop doing it once you’ve grown big enough to start hearing things so you won’t learn any of it too soon. But fuck, this is too much.” 

It feels odd to speak like this to the living being growing inside you that is barely more than a piece of flesh. Yet speaking to your growing baby seems to help ease your anxiety a little. 

Better yet, it helps make you feel less alone. 

“Let’s not think any bad thoughts. Let’s not assume that your Dad is an asshole, okay? Not until we get to hear the full story,” you whisper to the tiny human growing inside you. The more you speak to it, the more it seems to be helping you to find some ease of mind. 

But even if it turns out that he was…

“Then I can deal with it later with my head held high,” you murmur to yourself in a soft, yet reassuring tone of voice. And you repeat it again, and again, almost as if you are chanting a spell which would be able to give you a boost of confidence. 

It may not immediately change the way you look at things, yet you can feel it slowly rising within you. It feels like a ray of light, the first spark of hope that you get to feel amid all the uncertainty which surrounds you.

Soon enough, the strong urge to cry no longer overcomes you. Even your hands have stopped shaking. All that you have left is exhaustion. It rolls through your body with a vengeance, and there is nothing that you want more right now other than to curl up like a ball on your bed and sleep it off. 

You raise your head to look at yourself in the mirror, and instantly a bitter laugh escapes you at what you are seeing.

Because you look like a complete mess. Your life is slowly turning into shambles, and it seems to be mocking you through your own reflection that is now staring back at you. 

“Just exactly what I need,” you whisper with a sigh.

I need to be stronger, if only for the sake of this little one in me, you tell yourself as you splash cold water at your face to wash away all the mess—the drying tears, your swollen eyes, and the skin on your face which has yet to regain its normal colours. 

It feels therapeutic to be washing everything off, leaving nothing more but your swollen eyes which you can explain as a part of your sickness. You may not be strong enough to take on the world, but at least now, you are prepared to face the reality that is waiting for you right outside of this door. 

No matter how fucking messy it is. 

Having this new revelation should be giving you a newfound credence that could push you forward. And yet there is none of that here. The only thing you are feeling now is the new bout of anxiety rolling up through your body, starting from your stomach as it churns painfully.

“Yeah, now I feel sick,” you groan as you rush to the toilet bowl, seconds away before you start dumping the small amount of food you had during dinner into waste. 

It takes a bit longer than expected before you finally find the courage to step out of the bathroom. 

Soft murmurs filter into the bathroom the moment you open the door. You can tell that the voices are coming from the living room, which means that the family has gathered there after dinner. It allows you to breathe a sigh of relief. At least this way you wouldn’t have to hide or make excuses if you have to bump into someone on your way to your bedroom.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you are relieved that nobody is around. Everyone should be in the living room, so you make haste, hoping to be able to escape before anyone notices. 

But as you turn to the next hallway, someone is standing in your way. The light is dim, yet you can easily recognise him before you get any closer. Standing with his back leaning against the wall, he has his hands tucked into his pockets and his eyes looking absently into the distance. 

As though he has been waiting for you. 

Taehyung turns when he notices you coming. Before you can start to wonder what he is doing here, a smile grows on his face.

“Hey, is everything okay? Everyone was worried,” he asks you, sounding genuinely concerned. 

The calm tone of his voice might be a bit deceiving if only you are not looking into his eyes. His gaze keeps wavering as he speaks, as if he is unable to look at you for too long. The same guilt you saw earlier is still present in his eyes. And you hate seeing it there. 

It only tells you that he has a secret that he is keeping from you. You have no idea how to feel about it. But if it has to do with his relationship with Alia, then—

“I’m fine, it’s just—” 

Your cheeks grow warm the moment you speak, feeling embarrassed at how dry your voice sounds. “It’s nothing. You heard my Mom, I’ll be better in no time.” 

You have so many things to say to him. So many questions that you would like to give him. But you are too tired to do anything. Much less to talk. As much as you can convince yourself that you are ready to face anything, now is not the right time to do it. 

So you keep your mouth shut and try to walk past him instead. Only that he isn’t letting you go that easily. 

“You know, it really is nice to see you again, Red.” 

His voice sounds so subdued that you almost miss it. You come to a halt. Your heartbeat starts picking up again. If you ever needed confirmation that the sinful night you shared with him truly happened, and that he remembered any part of it, then this is it. 

His comment which instantly brings you back to that fateful night. The nickname that he used to call you then.

You close your eyes, refusing to remember the way he managed to draw out a myriad of sensations with his voice alone. You refuse to be brought back there again. Not now, when your mind isn’t clear enough to be dealing with this. Taking a deep breath, you compose yourself just enough to face him.

Only to be met with his amused smile as he looks at you. 

“I was surprised to see you. I never would have thought that you could somehow be related to Alia.” He lets out a chuckle. It sounds empty and a bit bitter, mirroring exactly how you are feeling right now. 

Your chest feels tight, hating the way he is saying her name. Nor do you enjoy seeing the way his gaze changes when he does it. Annoyance fills your chest that you can barely speak, while he remains in his blissful ignorance as he continues talking, 

“Funny how life works, doesn’t it? I kept thinking about you after we met and wondered if we would ever see each other again. I regretted that I didn’t ask for your number before we parted ways. I didn’t even get to ask for your real name.” 

The tightness in your chest grows tenfold. 

You never admitted it before—not to yourself, and not even to Skye, when you first talked about him—yet there was some point between that night and the day you found out about the pregnancy that you spent your nights wondering if you would ever see him again. 

If there had been one thing that you regretted about that night, it would be the decision you made to leave the next morning without asking for his real name or leaving any means of contact. 

A night to escape from reality. 

That was all it meant for you at the time. So when the morning came, it was time for you to return to reality. Your reality. Your real life. And you were too busy preparing yourself to face all the hurt, the bad memories, and the stressful life that had nothing to do with the desirable woman that he brought into his bed the night before to even consider exchanging contacts with him. 

It didn’t matter if you were still riding the high of that night’s self-gratification and wanton pleasure through the rest of your trip. The moment everything ended, you simply moved on from it. Putting everything about that night to the back of your mind as you returned to your normal life and quickly fell back into your normal routine. 

Until weeks later, when life decided to fuck you over and you ended up with a baby growing inside you, and you had no way to find or contact him to inform him about it. 

“I guess it can’t be helped, given the circumstances.” Your conviction quickly melts into dread once you are reminded of the current circumstances. “It’s kinda too late now to talk about it and regret what didn’t happen, don’t you think? Seeing that you’re now dating my stepsister.” 

Taehyung winces. For a brief moment, you almost believe you can see a glimpse of hurt flickering through his gaze. And for some reason, it only pisses you off. 

So he doesn’t like being reminded of the fact that he is here for someone else? 

“Look, about Alia. I was hoping that we could talk. Maybe when all of this is done, or maybe after the holidays we can—” 

He continues talking, but you aren’t hearing anything. The questions that flooded your brain earlier come flashing back. The ringing that pained you returns. Everything lasts for a few more seconds before your mind clears out, and only one question remains. 

“Were the two of you already dating when we slept together?” 

He falls silent, taken aback. 

“No!” he immediately says, almost shouting. But he quickly reins himself before his voice would reach where everyone is and draw their attention. “Fuck, no. Is that why you’ve been sulking all through dinner?” he asks you with a hiss. He seems offended and hurt at the same time. “I’m not that kind of guy. Trust me.” 

“Sulking?” you let out an incredulous laugh. Is that how he saw it? When you were coming close to breaking apart right in front of everyone because of him? 

“How am I supposed to trust you when I barely know you? How am I supposed to know that you’re telling the truth?” you snap back at him with a hiss. “Just because we fucked it doesn’t mean that I’d magically know everything about you.” 

Again, he winces at your question. As if your words come to him like a slap on his face. He takes a deep breath and speaks more calmly in response, “Look, we should talk. Soon. I can explain everything. But not now, okay?” 

As much as you hate to admit it, or to agree with him, you decide that he is right. There are a lot of things that you need to discuss with him, and now is not the right time to do it. Not when your emotions are all over the place and when he has his girlfriend keeping him in close sight most of the time. 

“I agree. We do need to talk,” you finally agree, even though you know that both of you have different things in mind. 

You have no idea what he intends to discuss with you. The only thing that matters to you is to talk about the baby that you conceived together. And hopefully, decide what will happen next. 

“I should go,” you sigh, feeling exhausted and drained. “I need to lie down. This is too much for me to process.” 

You try to walk around him so you can continue on your way. Your head is pounding, and you have the dire need to rest in your comfortable bed, where you would be able to feel safe and hide away from all of this. 

“Wait,” Taehyung stops you before you can go too far. 

“What?” you ask him, feeling exasperated—both from the stress and from the way your body still tingles each time you hear his voice. You really need to get away from him. 

“Nothing, it’s just…” he starts, suddenly looking nervous with what he is about to say. The sound of laughter echoes from the living room, making him glance over his shoulder briefly before speaking to you with a lowered voice, “Can you do me a favour?” 

You frown at him. “What is it?” 

He looks wary, and it makes you feel uneasy in the stomach as you wait for him to speak. 

But what he says next makes you feel even worse. “Please don’t tell Alia that we’ve met before, more importantly that we hooked up that night.” 

You say nothing at first. Even if you are well aware of the situation and where Alia’s position in all of this, it still doesn’t stop the sharp pain you feel in your chest as he mentions her name, or to express his request. 

Taehyung steps closer when you remain quiet. His voice comes as a desperate whisper when he pleads with you, “Please? Can you do this for me?” 

You grit your teeth. “Fine, I won’t,” you finally say to him. But you refuse to give in that easily.

Taking a step closer to him, you point at him and demand him, “But you need to tell her.” 

He clenches his jaw as he listens to your demands, but you ignore it and continue to talk. “She needs to know—” your voice nearly wavers, because you know what would happen once everything is revealed. 

Telling your stepsister that you had slept with her boyfriend would not only be hard, but it would be ugly. 

But it would be better than keeping it a secret for much longer. Because secrets don’t always remain hidden, no matter how hard you try to keep them in the shadows. And things would even get messier once the baby comes while she is still being kept in the dark. 

It’s better to bite the bullet as soon as possible, rather than waiting and living your life in uncertainty until the day comes. 

“If you don’t, and we keep this a secret much longer, things might get messier if she somehow finds out on her own. The last thing I’d ever want is to get into any drama. Not with her,” you try to convince Taehyung, despite him looking like he would rather bolt and have nothing to do with any of this. 

After all the drama that happened last year, the last thing you need is to get involved in another. 

“I’ll tell her myself if necessary.” There is a bite in your voice when you are telling him all of this. To his credit, Taehyung—despite looking shell-shocked and cornered—seems to respect and understand your request. 

He lowers his head and nods. “Give me time. I’ll—” 

You are surprised to see him looking defeated. It makes you wonder if there is something more about their relationship that you need to know before going further. 

As Taehyung raises his head again, he seems more resolved. He looks straight into your eyes as he promises, “I’ll tell her myself once I get the chance to. I promise. But we’re going to have that talk first, and soon.” 

“It’s a promise.” You bite back the ache that suddenly pierces through your heart, seeing how he is so adamant about protecting his relationship with your stepsister. Trying not to look too deep into it and get yourself hurt further, you avoid looking into his gaze and start walking away from him. 

“Goodnight then—” you whisper to him as you turn away from him, biting back the sound of your defeat when you call his name, “Tae.” 

The moment you are within the safety of your bedroom, your knees buckle. Thankfully, you still manage to close the door and lock it behind you, once again shutting yourself from everyone to give you some moment of peace.

Although it doesn’t stop him from entering your mind in the silence that follows. 

As you lie down in your bed, curled up in a fetal position with your arms wrapped around yourself, your mind wanders back to the conversation you just had with Taehyung in the hallway. 

You can’t help it. His words keep coming back to you, and you keep finding yourself dissecting everything he said. You close your eyes, and keep telling yourself to stop. The situation that you are dealing with right now already seems absurd enough for you to waste your energy trying to understand him. 

You begin to wonder if things would have been better if you hadn’t come across each other again. Things would probably turn out differently. You may have to keep the baby’s existence a secret from him, and the truth about the father a secret from your family. 

You may have to deal with everything yourself. 

The possibility seems petrifying, but it still sounds a lot better than having to go against your stepsister. Better than causing your frail relationship to become even worse. This time, you know that this would be big enough to ruin any chance for you and your stepsister to have any kind of relationship at all. 

He was right. It’s funny how life works. If only it doesn’t have to be this hard to laugh it off. 

Stop it. 

Keeping your eyes closed, you let out a deep sigh and force yourself to think about something else. Anything. As long as you are not thinking about him. His face, his voice, the scent of his cologne, everything that belongs to him. 

Your head starts swimming. No, everything about him now belongs to someone else. 

Once again, you force yourself to start thinking of less stressful things. Like Skye’s text message from this afternoon suggesting that you could run away with her to a secluded place somewhere in Europe so that the two of you could raise the baby together. Or the little stories that Honey shared about the cute new gardener now working at her apartment complex—the complex specifically built for elders like herself—that she wanted to introduce to you the next time you come by to visit.

You regret forgetting to pick up the smoothie that your mother made for you while you were throwing up in the bathroom, all due to Taehyung’s distraction. You wonder if having the smoothie would be able to help you feel better. Picturing the drink being left attended in the kitchen, you can picture your grandmother—the sweet little mischievous angel that she is—sneaking in a few drops of rum into the smoothie when your mother isn’t looking. 

This thought makes you smile. It replaces every ugly thoughts that keep circling inside your mind and calms you down. 

Your heartbeat is no longer beating like crazy. The more you fill your head with wonderful thoughts, the sooner the uneasy feeling in your stomach begins to wane. 

And soon enough, you start drifting away to a restless sleep. 

But just like how he invaded your home with his sudden appearance, Taehyung invades your sleep once your mind is left unguarded. 

Speaking to him, albeit briefly, brings you back to that night. The moment you close your eyes, you start seeing everything from back then that you couldn’t remember in your waking hours. Even the smallest details that your conscious mind has forgotten. Everything comes crashing down on you as you toss and turn in your bed, unable to give in completely to a peaceful slumber as memories continue to flood your dreams. 

Six weeks ago…

You opened your eyes and squinted. 

The overhead lamp above your head was bright, and it was hurting your eyes. You could barely see a thing through your bleary eyes, until your gaze drifted further, looking into the dimly lit bedroom far across the foyer. 

The room looked more spacious than yours, albeit a bit messy. The massive bed looked comfortable, and there were two lounge seats set up near the windows that looked more luxurious than the ones you had in your room. 

“Your bedroom seems a lot more cozy than mine.” 

The words came out of your lips with a moan. The sound seemed foreign. Barely recognisable through your hazy mind. But there was a familiar sensation slowly rising in your body that hadn’t at all come from the alcoholic drinks you were having tonight. 

“Hmmm…You think so?”

A deep, sultry voice spoke as a pair of hot lips made their way down the side of your neck, tracing your skin with delicate kisses that made it even harder for you to think straight. 

Shivers ran down your body. Heat rolled through your chest. And it almost seemed to you that your skin was becoming even more sensitive to the touch when even the most subtle caress of his fingers was able to light up your senses. 

Right after the voice spoke to you, he suddenly switched and started kissing his way up. You blinked, and his face came into view just as he looked down at you. The beautiful face that captivated you when you first met him at the bar was presented right before your eyes. 

So close. So tempting. And his eyes were so intense that you nearly lost your breath. He smiled and leaned down, capturing your lips with a kiss. 

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he murmured against your lips, drawing another moan out of you which snapped you from your daze. 

You sighed as you gave in to the chaste kiss he was giving you. “It’s kind of hard to look around and see anything when you have me pinned to the door.” 

He let out a soft chuckle and once again pressed his lips on yours. As if he was both pleased and amused that he got to put you in this position. When he pulled back, the look in his eyes softened. 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. It’s all your fault for teasing me all the way here while I couldn’t allow myself to touch you with so many eyes paying attention,” he said without any hint of regret in his voice. 

“Well, forgive me because I wasn’t aware,” you taunted him back, knowing fully well what you had done to tease him until he was on the verge of breaking apart even before you reached his hotel suite. 

As much as you wanted to hold back, you were quite sure that you hadn’t gotten things wrong. You couldn’t have possibly mistaken the chemistry that kept sparking between you. And the way he kept openly staring at your body was enough to make his intention clear, as his eyes seemed more honest than the words he gave you. 

But back at the bar, you had let him be the first one to make the move. 

With his sturdy hands, he was the one who pulled your seat closer. By placing his arm on your backrest, it may have seemed as if he was marking his territory for anyone else at the hotel bar to see. Normally, something like this would’ve put you off. But there was something in the way he did it that made you feel otherwise, allowing you to give in and lean more into his warmth instead of pushing him away. 

That was when you reciprocated his actions with your own. The light and subtle touches of your fingers on his arm drew soft shudders through his body. The accidental brushes that happened when you moved against his body pushed him into wrapping his arm around you, keeping you close before he finally pulled you out of the bar. 

When you leaned close enough to whisper softly against his ear, you could feel goosebumps rising on his skin, his heartbeat escalating under your palm, and he could barely hold himself back from devouring your lips right there at the hotel lobby. Right where everyone could see you falling into pieces under your sinful desire.

By the time you were alone with him in the elevator, the tension between you just kept escalating until he finally snapped. 

He nearly dragged you across the hallway leading to his bedroom suite in his rush to get you alone. The moment he pulled you in through the door, every bit of his composure simply left him. He barely gave you a chance to catch a single glance of the suite, as he immediately pushed your body against the door and kept you there. 

Until this moment. 

His eyes grew dark after listening to your answer. His breath is still ragged after the hot kiss that he gave you once he got you pinned between his hard body and the locked door behind you. 

With his broad chest locking you in place, his hips pressing against your lower body, he left you with nowhere else to go. But this didn’t seem to be enough for him. Looking into his eyes, you could tell that he needed to see you become even more vulnerable. Almost as if he wanted to punish you for putting him on the edge. 

And he did exactly that as he slipped one hand around your neck and pulled your hair, tilting your head back so that he could continue exploring the column of your throat with his sinful lips. Instead of resisting it, you simply gave in. Arching your back to him further as he trailed kisses on your skin, your hands clutching on his jacket to hold on. 

He used his other hand to explore the rest of your body. Starting from your waist, he continued to move further down to your hips. Tracing every curve, every dent along your body with his firm fingers pressing through your thin dress. 

Just as he was about to reach the hem of your dress, he suddenly stopped and pulled back. 

“Tell me again. Are you sure this is what you want?” His voice was quiet when he asked you this. It sounded as though he was caught between convincing himself that this was happening while giving you an out for one last time before getting too deep. 

But you had gone deep. 

And you knew then that the moment you let everything happen, there was no going back from it. Everything about this was new to you; hooking up with a complete stranger while you were in the middle of nowhere, and knowing that once the night was over, both of you were going to move on with your lives. 

It felt thrilling to think about it, and the liquid courage should help you in letting go of your inhibitions. Yet you couldn’t deny the fact that you are feeling slightly nervous about jumping fully into this. 

When you failed to answer him, Tae leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss right below your ear and whispered, “Well? Talk to me. Because there is no going back from this once we begin, and I won’t let you go until you tell me what you want.” 

The way his breath tickled your ear and caressed your skin broke you out of the walls you put up. Every flicker of doubt you felt immediately melted. You brushed against him, allowing him to feel every bit of heat coursing through your body before you answered with a whisper, “Yes. I’ve never been so sure in my whole life.” 

You could feel the way his breath was caught as you pressed your palm on his chest. Pressing against him, you raised yourself up and nipped his chin with your teeth. 

“This is what I want.” 

You weren’t completely sure if you ever got to finish your sentence when all of a sudden, his lips came crashing into yours, pressing firmly as he kissed you, barely concealing his desire for more. 

The kiss unleashed your own desire. You opened your mouth for him in return, allowing him to devour you, to have a taste of your demands as he thoroughly kissed you until you were left breathless in his arms. 

His hand began to move again just then. Tracing down your hips, he pressed the tips of his fingers harder into your flesh. He made it seem as if your dress had melted into your skin with the heat of his touch that you felt completely exposed to him. And he didn’t stop until he finally found the exposed skin of your thigh. 

Your body quivered upon contact, and you could tell that he felt it too. He began stroking your skin, moving at a slow, agonising pace just to put you on the edge. 

And he easily succeeded. Already, you could barely breathe, even when he was still far from touching any part of your body that needed him the most. 

Overcame with need, your body started moving on instinct. As if his touches were controlling you as you lifted your thigh for him. His grip on your thigh tightened, helping you to keep your leg up and open yourself to him while his kiss became sloppy yet gentle as he released his hold on your hair. 

He moved his other hand down, brushing against your covered breast with a brief contact and continued trailing down. You felt him pressing at your hips, before pulling the hem of your dress upward until your lower region was completely exposed. His hand continued its travel as it climbed up your inner thigh. So you opened your legs to give him better access. A move which he appreciated with a deep hum, before you felt his thumb brushing up just an inch away from your throbbing core. 

“Should we move this someplace else? Somewhere that would be more comfortable for us?” he asked you with his lips hovering close to yours. 

It took a moment for his words to sink in. Too lost in the sensation that you were made to feel, you felt as if you were drunk and high, not from the alcohol that was no longer running wildly through your veins, but from his entire presence alone. 

All thoughts faded further as his thumb grazed across the front of your panties, finding your folds through the fabric before he pressed down, enough to give pressure on your covered clit. Sparks flew through your half-lidded eyes as pleasure came rushing through you in waves. You couldn’t stop the moan slipping out of your lips, nor the way your hips rocked into his touch to feel more. 

“So responsive,” he murmured against your neck before he planted a light kiss on your skin. “I would have loved to watch and enjoy every reaction that you would give me, every sound you make, while I have you lie down on my bed and fuck you senseless.” 

Your breath hitched and caught in your chest. Not only because of his words, but also from the way his thumb continued to rub against your covered clit. It felt sinful, yet so delectable the way he kept drawing more and more sparks and shuddering pleasure through your body.

After being deprived of such attention for quite some time, your body became more sensitive to every friction, every treatment he was giving you, and you simply wanted more. 

“Then take me there. Take me to your bed.” 

As if you had flicked a switch in his brain, his expression changed. His gaze darkened as he captured your lips with unrestrained need, yet he was careful when he picked you up, pressing you against his chest when he turned and moved to take you away from the door.

You wrapped your arms and legs around him for balance, while your lips remained locked in a deep kiss. You could feel his long stride as he began carrying you across the room. His kiss and his firm hold on your bottom cheeks were enough to draw your attention away from his clumsy footsteps, but not enough to deny you from sensing the changes happening around you.

The scent of his cologne grew thicker as he went deeper into the room, and you were getting more and more lost in him. Drowned in his heat, his kiss, and the traces that he had left behind all over his bedroom, you felt him everywhere all at once that you felt like you were being put under a spell. 

All so suddenly, you were pulled out of it when he broke away from the kiss. He laid you gently over the cold white sheets of his partly-made bed. Instead of joining you right away, he chose to pull back. His eyes seemed to glint in the dimly lit room as he took this moment to take you in. 

“Beautiful,” he murmured softly, drawing heat back to your face. 

He kept his eyes on you as he shrugged off his jacket and began peeling his shirt from his chest. Desire pulsed through your body as you watched every move he was making without ever drawing his attention away from you. 

The more you watched him, the stronger the pull that you felt towards him. Once the need to touch him took over, you reached up and tugged on his pants, hoping that you could quickly shred them off of his body. 

You barely grazed against his covered hard-on when he stopped you by catching your wrists. Like a disappointed teacher, he made a disapproval sound with his tongue. 

“Patience, Red,” he teasingly said to you as he grabbed the hem of your dress and pulled it off of you with one swift move. You fell back to the bed with a gasp, shocked to see how easy it was for him to take over until you were left with nothing more but your lacy underthings. 

The intensity you felt from his gaze made you want to wrap your arms around yourself and hide. But being half inebriated was making you slow in thoughts and movement that you couldn’t do anything but lay still. At the same time, you enjoyed the way he was looking at you, loving how he was losing himself to you the same way you did to him. 

But it was the words that he said next that further brought out your wanton needs.

“Be a good girl and stay still. I want you to stay just like this,” he said with a murmur while his eyes ran down your body, “I want you to lie on your back while you are screaming out my name.” 

If only you hadn’t been so lost for words, perhaps you would have challenged him in return. Instead, by the time every piece of his clothing was gone, you felt like you had melted further into the sheets. The raw passion you saw in his gaze and the way he was tracing his fingertips on your skin had locked you completely in place, leaving you with no other option but to surrender as he took control.

He bent down, his lips came down to your neck. Planting his kisses on your skin, he kept your attention away from his hands as he snapped off your bra and went down to pull your panties down your hips. As he dragged your panties down your bare legs, he continued his kisses further down, not stopping until he reached your heaving chest. 

You couldn’t even remember what happened to that flimsy piece of fabric that he took from you. Everything else faded as his tongue grazed across your chest, drawing a gasp out of your lips. His firm hands returned to your hips right then, holding you down while he captured your taut nipple between his teeth. 

The feeling that coursed through you was heavenly. A shooting pain came with a flare as he bit down, yet it was quickly replaced with an overwhelming feeling of pleasure when he lapped the pain away with his sinful tongue. 

“Tae—”

His body quivered against yours at the sound of your voice. He pulled away with a grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he watched you arching your chest as if you were chasing him. 

He ran his gaze down your body. Perusing you while silently admiring what he was seeing while he licked his lips. As if he was picturing the way you would taste. 

“Tell me how badly you want this, Red,” he taunted you with his hand reaching out to the nightstand. You vaguely saw him grabbing a condom while you were struggling to breathe. Your eyes fell on his exposed, throbbing cock, and words simply left you. 

Seeing its impressive size and girth, your entire body erupted with a pulse. It started from deep inside your core, right where you wanted to feel him the most. Astonished, you failed to remember that he was still waiting for your answer with his eyes locked on your face. 

And he made you struggle further to find words when he reached down, wrapping his long fingers around his cock and started giving himself slow, lazy strokes. You could see the bead of his pre-cum glistening under the dim lighting. It took everything in you to stop yourself from leaning forward and lapping him dry. To have a taste, before you let him devour every drop of your essence. 

“Red? Talk to me,” he spoke to you again with a curious tone in his voice. 

He knew that he wasn’t getting any attention, as your eyes were locked only at one place that was not his face, and he seemed to be curious to know what was making you so lost in thoughts. 

Instead of answering him, you continued to watch, completely transfixed by his actions, as he slowly spread his pre-cum along the length of his cock. You licked your lips, almost as if you could taste him. A barely concealed whimper slipped out of your lips when you watched him slowly roll the condom to cover himself from the tip of his cock and down to the base. 

Seeing him covered with protection seemed to snap you back to the present. Even if your pulsing need still refused to tame down. 

Resting back against the pillows, you dragged your eyes away from his impressive cock to his beautiful face. 

“I want you here. Inside me,” you finally responded to his question. Placing your palms on the underside of your thighs, you parted your legs open, making him see the mess that had been building up right between your legs while you were enjoying the show he was giving you. 

Now it was your turn to give him a show. 

Reaching between your legs, you moved your fingers to find your folds. You bit back a gasp once the tips of your fingers were met with your wet arousal. It felt slick as you moved your fingers around, parting your nether lips so he could see your swollen clit, before you moved your fingers in circles, pressing at yourself the exact same way you wished he would. 

“Please, fuck me, Tae. Fuck me good.” 

His pupils dilated at the sound of your voice, at the pleading words you were giving him. You loved the way he was reacting to you just as much as he did with you, yet you decided to push his buttons further by adding, “And then I want to hear you scream my name while you cum inside me.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “What a little brat,” he said, chuckling. “So you like to play games, hmmm?” 

You bit your bottom lip, holding back a moan that was threatening to come out when your touch inadvertently pushed against the source of your heat. “Oh, I do. Games are always fun.” 

While he continued stroking his cock at a lazy pace, he used the other hand to grab your neck. His palm fit perfectly as he wrapped it around the column of your throat, putting pressure that was not enough to choke you, yet enough to show you who was in control. 

“Then let’s play,” he groaned while he pressed you back down on the bed. “But this time, I make the rules.” 

You felt the electrifying pleasure surging through your body as he brushed your hand away and lined himself against your entrance, shutting down the circuits inside your brain for a moment and stopping you from wiggling too much beneath him just to feel more friction. 

A sharp moan was drawn from your lips as Tae slammed his full length deep inside you. The sensation that you felt from being filled by his width was so feral and explosive that you were sure you immediately experienced your orgasm right then and there. 

Your body must have been shaking, which was a response that you failed to notice as you had your senses filled with the steady pulse of pleasure pressing across the girth of his cock. He must have noticed it when he came to a halt, giving you a chance to process everything and adjust to his presence inside you.

Nothing made sense to you beyond the pulsing pleasure that you felt from your hot pussy. Your senses were filled with the sound of your racing heartbeat, the soothing touch of his fingers on your skin, and the whispers of his voice calling you back to him. 

He only managed to bring you back to the present by pressing gentle kisses on your lips, nose, and then on the rest of your face, stopping only after he kissed your lips again to draw your attention back to him. 

Your legs were quivering when you opened your eyes to see him, yet you could already tell from the way the pulses that came right where you were joined started to settle, that your body had adjusted perfectly to his size. 

But it didn’t mean that you would simply take it without sharing your thoughts. 

“You’re—big,” you complained with a soft moan when you felt him growing harder inside you. It didn’t stop you from rocking your hips, trying to feel more friction, while he merely chuckled at your words. 

“And it’s perfect for your tight pussy.” 

His words drew a gasp from you. But he didn’t pay much attention to it, as he slowly began to move. He started with a slow pace, which was torturous and agonising, forcing you to feel the delectable way his girth was brushing against your pulsing walls. 

Back and forth he went, going so deep you could almost feel him pressing up your stomach before pulling out until only the tip was buried inside you. He kept moving at the same pace, until you began to feel more desperate. Even your body was shaking with the need to feel more. 

“More—!” you whispered with a strangled moan, “go faster.” 

Hearing this, instead of doing what you were begging him to, Tae denied your plea by doing the opposite. With a wicked grin on his face, the fucker slowed down, bringing the pleasure that had been rising back down a notch. 

You opened your mouth to protest against it, and he moved his hands down your hips, stopping at your thighs where he gave you a tight grip. 

“You want more?” he asked you, his voice almost seemed to grow deeper, and you could feel a tinge of danger when he spoke. The same danger you saw coming through his gaze as he slowly brought your legs up. 

You expected him to stop once he got your legs up his shoulders. But he just kept going. And going. Until you were nearly folded with your legs almost pressed to your chest.

“Tae—!” 

It made you feel vulnerable, with nothing but your hands to use to hold on while he had full control of your body. He was still buried inside you, and this position allowed you to feel him more. As though you had grown tighter around him and he was growing bigger. His entire length and width made you feel full, as his cock was pressing tightly against your hot walls. 

“You wanted more,” he murmured as he began moving, rocking his hips slowly back and forth, going in and out of you, drawing more and more of that shuddering pleasure out of your body as he continued fucking you gently. “I’m giving you more.” 

He began increasing his pace. Going faster the more he heard you moaning in pleasure. “Lift your arms, Red. Bring them up and hold the pillows.” 

It took a moment for his words to register in your head. Your hands had been clutching tightly on his forearms and it was a struggle to let go. And he waited, tormenting you by keeping his pace much too slow to your liking until you followed his command. 

Your hands trembled as you unlatched them from his skin. You could barely feel your fingers as you dragged your hands up, as every part of your body grew more sensitive the more you opened your entire self to him. Keeping your eyes on him, you got lost in his intense gaze. 

It was then when you finally came in contact with the soft pillows above your head, and your fingers easily sank into them, latching onto them as you did when you were holding onto his arms.

“That’s it. Good girl,” he murmured gently, and you were pleasantly surprised to realise how much you loved hearing his praise. Warmth bloomed in your chest, and it easily made its way down right to your core. “Now hold on tightly and don’t let go.” 

And you did just that. Holding on tightly the way he wanted you to. 

Only once he gained complete control of your body, once you fully submitted to him, he finally fulfilled your wish. He held firmly on your thighs to keep them folded and open for him, and he began ramming his cock deep inside you. 

He was doing it faster. Harder. Sending you high in pleasure while all you could do was take his constant pounding. The only leverage you had to hold on was the tight hold you had on the pillows and the weight of his body that was pressing you down each time he pushed deeply inside you. 

The anomalous sounds coming out of both of your lips kept bouncing off the walls. Followed by the sound of flesh clashing against flesh, the slick sounds that came from right where you were joined, and the creaking sound of the bed beneath you. 

He kept going, relentless in his rough thrusts and his need to push you over the edge, until you could feel the rise of your orgasm coming in waves. The wanton pleasure that was hot and intense came rising inside you, growing rapidly with his deep thrusts until you finally succumbed to it, coming into your climax with a scream. 

“Tae, I’m coming,” you cried out to him as you fell over the edge, though you weren’t completely sure if the words coming out of your lips were as coherent as you thought they would have been. 

The sound of your pounding heartbeat seemed to drown everything away. Except that you could still hear the sound of his breathless grunts as they grew clearer, and the strangled moan that came out of him when he shouted, “That’s it, Red. Fuck, I’m coming!”

With a sharp intake of breath, he came to his climax. You felt every pulse of his release as he came inside you, and the tremble in his chest that surged through him with his deep groan as he relished the pleasure. Even after his release, he kept moving, rocking slowly and steadily until the spasms of your orgasm slowly began to wane down. 

He remained buried inside you when he gently released you from his hold. You could barely feel his lips pressing on your quivering thighs before he lowered them back on the mattress, yet his gentle fingers remained hot on your skin when he brushed up against you. 

He reached up and gently pried your fingers away from the pillows before slipping his fingers between yours. The way your fingers were entwined together felt so intimate. So unlike anything that you had ever thought about what a one-night stand would entail. 

Your body felt hot, and your muscles were lax, but there was a series of small spasms still going strong from deep inside you, coaxed by his incessant rocking. You should have been pushing him off of you, instead of embracing his weight as he lowered himself, covering your body with his own. 

“Tae—” you whimpered against his lips as he kissed you. Holding your hands in his, he continued to rock his hips. 

How he managed to remain so hard and stiff even after his climax was beyond you. He still felt thick as he moved. His cock brushed against your pulsing walls as he went in and out, awakening all sparks of pleasure that were supposed to have dwindled. 

And with how sensitive your body was, it rose and peaked so quickly and you had no power to stop it. 

“Too…much…” you cried between the strangled moans coming out of your lips, right before he swallowed them with another kiss. 

“One more,” he groaned as he picked up his pace. “Just do it one more time for me, Red.” 

You were so sensitive it was beginning to hurt, but the pleasure was also maddening that you didn’t want to stop. This time, he wasn’t holding you down so strongly, allowing you to move beneath him. So you rocked back against him, pushing up each time he was thrusting into you. It only took a couple of more strokes before the coil in your core snapped, and you were sent to another climax. 

And he joined you in your release, falling into a smaller climax of his own as you clenched tightly around him. 

He came with a deep groan. His whole body quaked against you before he finally fell on top of you. While you were trying to control your breath, his lips came brushing your neck, kissing you gently to help soothe down the shudders running through your body.

“Fuck…so perfect,” he sighed between his kisses, his voice came in and out through your senses, and the sparks you felt rushing through your body started waning as you were slowly drifting away into the night, with his words echoing in your dreams,

“You are perfect.” 

Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading so far. Any likes, kudos, comments, and feedbacks will be appreciated. The story continues in part 2.

⟶ Jingle All the Way collab masterlist | A Christmas Fix: next chapter ⇢

© All rights reserved. 2024 Yoonia — Unauthorized use and/or duplication of these works, including reposting, translating and modification in any form, is strictly prohibited. 

[themotherofblood]

put it on me | d.t x reader x r.t | vampire au | bloody baby au

an: heyyy ya’ll missed me? had a tove lo song stuck in my head it’s talking body.

synopsis: baby knows she has been made to forget, she knows they are pretending to, everything is alright but is it?

warning: overconsumption of alcohol, compelling, argument.

You were dead sure something was off, like visually not a hair out of place but you just knew, like a nagging intuition burning holes into your stomach. Though it could have been the last shot oqf tequila you took.

They let you off the fucking island, it made no sense. What four months of playing a captured princess and out of nowhere “Go birdie go fly and be free.” something was off it was sour milk in your mouth. One could even say it was because you were touch deprived, but the more shocking detail to take note of was the lack of puncture marks in your body. This wasn’t some insecurity bullshit again, this was them hovering over you from the balconies watching you dance with you friends and not lifting a finger to feel you up.

Absurd isn't it?

Something happened, you can only feel it in your dreams, something deeply wrong— something that you were not supposed to see but you hadn't been compelled, at least you think you weren’t. You simply woke up in their bed three weeks and they’ve pretended like you would break from a single touch, and they watch you—constantly. When you eat, when you read on the lawn and sometimes you could swear they watch you sleep.

This uneasiness was tearing at you, were they done with you? Their own martial relations seemed to be a little too close, they always were but you never felt left out but now you did, you felt nervous even to walk up to Rhaenyra for a hug in the morning. And now this.

A taste of caged freedom. Freedom.

Who knew you'd grow so fond of the cage that housed you, a golden stone castle far from any life you’ve ever seen? Yet here you were now, at a cheap club your friends and you had graced every weekend after working on your thesis to chug fireballs and vodka.

Freedom? That's what the wanted you to feel, to help you transition back to your mortal life. Well then, a taste of it should have been fair for all. So you didn't hesitate after pulling another bill from your bra and ordering another round for your girlfriends. You loved them, you missed them, but right now your sense of celebration wasn't for them. As the bitter liquid burned at your throat, you shot daggers at the balconies again and disappeared into the crowd.

Deep in the sea of sweaty bodies jumping with no care in the world, thick into where the intentions of every one were similar, “We’re free game” You didn't care who touched you, just as way before when you didn't. You never know the person, hell you couldn't even make out their face from the lights but you felt the hands, the grinding.

It did feel freeing, compelled or not, you could do it— slip further into the crowd and just slip out of this dingy club. Disappear with the money and ID tucked into the lining of your bra, they won't find you. Strom City was far too vast to find a little scorned soul nearing the bottom of the bottle. You closed your eyes and just felt the music and the alcohol making you feel weightless, you lifted your hands into your hair to cook the back of your neck as you continued to sway, a stranger’s beer can pressed to the back of it. You smiled at your friends dancing, reaching for the coolers in one of their hands and took a big swig. You could feel the bile at the back of your throat, but you knew you'd been fine if you just kept dancing.

You could still feel hands on you and yet no faces, it wasn't until you turned that you could finally register faces— or well a face.

Daemon stood still amongst the dancing crowd, arms crossed and neck just slightly titled. Silently questioning as to the fuck were you up to.

You didn't stop, looking right at him you kept dancing when the beat dropped stealing the last of your friend’s drink. Hips swaying and still holding your wild hair so you don't overheat, you knew you were playing with fire. What's the worst that could happen? They’d drain you of all blood until there was no life left in you? You’d come to terms with that possibility months ago.

You could feel him nearing, shrugging off the mortal bodies coming in contact with him. You could hear your friends giggling as she reached for your hand and yanked you through the crowd.

“What the fuck were you thinking,” Daemon said, looking very visually irked as he sat comfortably on the hotel couch.

Rhaenyra had barely anything to say but she was angry, you could see it. A conflicted hurt. The rules were clear, they were crystal and you'd broken them.

You scoffed sipping on the glass of water you were forced to drink as you leaned against the bathroom door, still heeled and dizzy. You couldn't digest their discontent when they were ones playing games with you.

“We have very simple rule-”

“Oh fuck your rules!” you cut him off

“It's just bodies isn't it,” you said holding in a hiccup “We are just bodies.”

Rhaenyra opened her mouth but you raised your finger to stop her, stumbling of the bathroom door and walking to the middle of the room.

“How many? How many girls? How many men? I mean fuck!” you shook your head stumbling a bit.

They entertained your outburst, usually you were so placated that this was beyond the unusual.

“Don't you see, you've lived the two of you have each other, have been married for like a forever long time, and me. I'm twenty— human years mortal, simple-bodied.” you tap your head to see if they saw your point.

“I have barely loved, and now that I do—” you hiccup blinking your drunk tears away “its with two blood-sucking—” you stopped yourself laughing.

“I’m just a body to you that you use for fun.” you laugh, mascara tears coating your face.

Rhaenyra finally speaks “that is not true.”

You scoff once more, this time breaking the glass of water you'd been drinking against the bedstand “Turn me then.”

Daemon turned his face, looking out the window and Rhaenyra now stood shaking her head at you.

You could feel the glass imbedded into your palm, you raised the broken shard at her— lil quivering. “Turn me.”

“Turn me.” it sounds like a pathetic prayer.

This time Daemon turned to you, eyes narrowed staring at your bleeding palm, he looked at his wife. He knew this would have come to this conclusion, it always does.

You knew you’d die soon, whether it was to come back as one of them or dead for good. You’d made your peace with it a week before, pouring your heart out in the pages of your journal. Though what were you expecting, that the sex with you was that good that they’d have you around for a life time.

You served one purpose for them, to be their walking blood bag, a toy for them to use and dress as they pleased.

“Turn me.” you said once more.

This time Daemon pushed off the couch, he was in front of you within a blink of an eye, nostrils flared as he grabbed the back of your hair and yanked it back.

“You want to sell your soul that bad? You’d break even before it began sweet girl. The pain of the turn, but sure since you want it that bad.” he bit into the back of his hand and pressed it to your mouth.

The taste of bitter copper filled your mouth, it was true human blood tasted far sweeter, and you’d tasted it on their lips countless times. Your own blood.

“Daemon stop.” Rhaenyra said this time, approaching her husband.

He did not budge, still staring your soul down as he pulled the glass shard from your hand. He didn't hesitate to press it against your carotid artery, the faintest if pressure and he’d dig in. You bleed out and either come out as one of them or a feral— a demon of sorts. They wouldn't take that risk but Daemon was so done for it.

He knew the truth of what he’d compelled away from you, the attack, the threat that somebody was after them— he feared not for him or Rhaenyra but if they found you. He had thought of turning you a thousand times over, and so had Rhaenyra, though the possibility that you may not make the other side. Not many survive the pain, not many come out looking like their mortal bodies but mangled creatures from hell.

However Daemon had snapped, he grew irked from having to hide the truth, from having to pull away. True he had Rhaenyra to come to with his ails but she would sway him otherwise. Rhaenyra battled the guilt of nearly killing you for days, she still does and cannot touch you without remembering her teeth digging into your flesh. You may not remember it, but she had torn you within an inch of your life.

“Daemon we have to let her go.” Rhaenyra urged.

This time your eyes snapped to her and then back to Daemon.

“No turn me.” you urged, this time pushing yourself against the shard of glass “turn me.”

Daemon threw the shard away, shaking his head as he held your shoulders.

“No no, you're not leaving me.” the panic set into your body, death would have been easier. “Just turn me, I can do it.” you hiccuped.

Rhaenyra this time finally touched you, pulling you closer and embracing you, your senses were completely engulfed by her. The way she smelled, her touch, her hair.

You kept mumbling “no” incoherently as she sat you down on the bed.

Her eyes dilated as she shushed you, you looked at Daemon, his stern expression held pain to it if you looked close enough. He leaned against a wall. He knew Rhaenyra had to be the one to do this.

You felt no pain as Rhaenyra pulled the small pieces of glass from your hand, they were already healing because of Daemon’s blood.

“I’m so sorry my love,” she kissed your palms as she sat them back down onto your lap. “It isn't safe anymore.”

“Please don't,” you pouted, more tears flowing down your cheeks. “Don’t leave.”

“You were away on a vacation in the Summer. Isles, you needed a break. You won't remember us, anything about the past six months, it will be as though time stopped and brought you back to reality.” Rhaenyra whispered, kissing your forehead.

“Please.” you cried.

“The pain you feel now will be gone, we will be gone.” her eyes dilated one more as she shuffled your body back into the bed. “Go to sleep.”

Okie and that's a wrap!! I had so much fun writing this chapter, kinda poured my own breakup pain into it. Either way, I can't wait to start writing more!!

[miueo]

𐙚 my little idol ♥︎．。．:*･° chap i ✿

ᰔᩚ      ︶ྀི    new legacy .

summary : you're currently in a new girl group underneath jyp entertainment ! your group is performing well on charts, you have a stable fanbase, and many bops to listen to! you try your best to avoid dating scandals for the sake of your reputation and status but it's all ruined by a very popular group of boys.

pairings : ot8!skz ♡ femidol!reader !

warnings : no smut in this chapter ; heavy on smut, sexualization & objectification, perversion, obsession, taboo / dark concepts (for some members, not all !) , mental physical / health issues (depression, anxiety, etc.), coercion, unsolicited pictures, more to be announced.

notes : hiii !!!! i am currently in guangdong… ive been traveling so much lately, sorry for the lack of content. THIS IS JUST AN INTRO CHAPTER!

taglist : @p0eticjust1c3 @yunjinswifee @sky00ung @pinkdranks @bloominhos @mi-mi-mu @nasiaisan @kitkat1sstuff @hyunjinhoexxx @theinsanebish

selected song for fic :

in the bustling heart of seoul’s entertainment scene, amidst the glittering promise of fame and the relentless pursuit of dreams, there exists a young talent whose voice echoes with the power to stir souls. her name is song y/n, a gifted vocalist whose journey to becoming a k-pop sensation began with a passion for music that bloomed in her hometown.

from an early age, y/n’s voice enchanted audiences, drawing praise for its depth and emotional resonance. encouraged by her family’s unwavering support, she embarked on a path that led her to jyp entertainment, where her talent would be nurtured and polished to perfection. in the rigorous world of k-pop training, y/n’s dedication and natural ability set her apart, particularly her ability to convey emotion through every lyric and melody.

selected for her exceptional vocal skills, y/n found herself among the chosen few to join 4ura, a newly formed girl group at jyp entertainment. with three other members, each bringing their own strengths to the table, 4ura aimed to carve out a place in the competitive landscape of k-pop. for y/n, being part of 4ura wasn’t just about achieving stardom; it was about fulfilling a lifelong dream and sharing her music with the world.

as rehearsals filled her days and anticipation fueled her nights, song y/n stood on the brink of a future she had once only dared to imagine. with determination in her heart and the power of her voice as her guide, she was poised to make her mark as not just an idol, but as an artist whose presence on stage would resonate far beyond the lights of seoul.

❁

at the forefront stands y/n song, the group’s main vocalist hailing from the vibrant streets of new york city. blessed with a voice that effortlessly transcends genres, y/n’s journey to stardom is a testament to years of dedication and an unyielding commitment to her craft.

beside her is olivia wong, the group’s main dancer, whose electrifying moves reflect her upbringing in the bustling metropolis of hong kong. with a dance style that blends precision and grace, olivia brings a dynamic energy to 4ura’s performances, captivating audiences with every fluid motion.

adding to the group’s allure is minjeong kim, renowned as 4ura’s visual, drawing inspiration from the natural beauty of jeju island. with a magnetic presence that commands attention, minjeong’s ethereal charm and captivating gaze make her an undeniable visual powerhouse within the group.

completing this quartet of talent is autumn yang, the group’s main rapper with roots tracing back to the sun-drenched shores of california. autumn’s sharp lyricism and charismatic delivery bring a fresh perspective to 4ura’s music, adding depth and diversity to their sound.

❁

beyond their individual talents, 4ura thrives within the supportive community of jyp entertainment, fostering close relationships with labelmates nmixx, stray kids, itzy, and twice. from collaborative performances that electrify audiences to backstage camaraderie that strengthens their bonds, 4ura and their fellow jyp artists form a tight-knit family united by a shared passion for music and a drive to push boundaries.

as they prepare to debut on stages both local and global, 4ura stands poised to make an indelible mark in the world of k-pop. with their unique blend of talent, charisma, and ambition, they are ready to carve out a place among the stars, promising a future where their music will resonate far and wide, leaving an unforgettable imprint on the hearts of fans everywhere.

everything is so perfect right now. what could possibly ruin this beautiful moment?

[grandline-fics]

Immune To Your Charms

DESCRIPTION: Soulmates are incapable of harming the other in any way. Normally that would be a good thing but not when you're meant to be enemies.

WARNINGS: It's Doflamingo so it features mentions of killing/ injury/ general violence. Soulmate! AU, Enemies to Lovers

CHARACTERS: Doflamingo

WORDS: 2,543

A/N: Part of the Good For Your Soul Series. I had such a burst of energy last night and today I'm worried I'm starting to get sick which made getting this finished a bit of a struggle. Hopefully you all still like how this is going

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four (here) | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven (coming soon)

——————

Your mind was a mess and you had expected to find no rest at all but the second you’d sank into the mattress and head hit the pillow you were instantly asleep, your body unable to resist the luxury and comfort that had enveloped you. Yes you were a prisoner here in every sense of the word without it being spoken but in a bed like this, things could be worse and you knew that. If anything you had accepted the prospect of some dark, dingy cell barely big enough for you to fit in and a few thin, dirty pieces of fabric for a sorry excuse of a bed and blanket. This enormous living quarters had not been expected and even as you slowly woke from the deepest and best sleep of your life it still took you a few moments to adjust to the sight of it all and remind yourself that you hadn’t been dreaming. 

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes you let out a sigh, contemplating just staying in bed. You knew Doflamingo had said you could go and do as you pleased but did you really want to? You knew Doflamingo was a pirate, up to unknown evil of a wide range of criminality. Could you really witness it without being able to stop it? You were brought out of your thoughts when a knock sounded at your door. Slowly you looked over, expecting it to open but there was only tense silence. Whoever it was they were waiting for you to answer. “Come in.”

Timidly the door opened and a young maid entered. She was nervous, keeping her head down and hands clasped in front of her. Lowly she bowed to you and even when she rose, she kept her gaze away from your face. Not because of an order, it just seemed she was genuinely intimidated. Worried. “Sorry for disturbing your rest. Would you care for breakfast here or will you be joining the family this morning?”

You pulled a face at the prospect of dining with Doflamingo and his ‘family’ which you assumed meant the higher ranked members of his crew. Absently you recalled the woman Violet who revealed the truth of your and Doflamingo’s situation but honestly you hadn’t really paid much attention to anyone else that had been in the drawing room. The only others  you had a strange recollection about were the two figures that had been at the warehouse along with Doflamingo but it was too dark and you were in too much pain to really get a proper look at them before you’d fallen unconscious. Quickly you snapped yourself out of your thoughts and offered the maid an apologetic look. “Sorry. No I won’t be joining them.” You told her. 

It made you uncomfortable when she bowed again but she was gone from the room before you could tell her to stop that. You doubted she would listen anyway, if she didn’t act as she normally did she could be punished by someone. You didn’t put it passed any of the pirates in the building to lash out at the staff over the smallest of reasons. With a heavy sigh you dragged yourself out of the bed and made your way to the small table by one of the tall windows and settled down into the chair. Finally you allowed yourself to pull back the curtain and take in the view outside, breath catching at the expansive beauty of the city and spanning island beyond it. Dressrosa was indeed a stunning place, from up here in the Palace you couldn’t see much activity from the city but just like the upkeep of the castle you now found yourself in, it seemed orderly and clean. You couldn’t hear any violence or seen signs of unrest of some countries you’d seen over the years. It made your stomach twist to feel a sense of peace and calm. Could the people truly be happy with a pirate ruling over them? You supposed if the people knew it was a Warlord, protected and feared then there would never be a risk of an outside attack. You just wondered what it was Doflamingo demanded of the people to keep them safe from him and those in his command.

At the sound of the door opening you glanced in the reflection of the window to see the servant return, pushing a small trolley inside. Following behind was Doflamingo. Eyes narrowing you turned your head to scowl at him. You’d thought your decision to eat in your room also meant you wouldn’t have to see him either until you wanted to. Realistically you should have known better. Of course he’d appear when he wished and of course he’d choose first thing to start your day off on a sour note. Coldly you followed his movements as he tugged out the chair opposite you and relaxed into it, making a note to let your Marine file fall onto the polished table surface. Your eyebrows rose minutely. You weren’t surprised to see it, more that Doflamingo seemed to want you to know he had it. You offered a polite smile to the servant as she shakily offered you your cup of tea. 

“So how did my dear soulmate sleep?” Doflamingo chuckled when your smile dropped and you turned a glare his way. His laughter continued when you grabbed the morning paper from the trolley and opened it with a snap, refusing to even entertain the notion of small talk with him. With a flick of his finger, your file opened and he reclined in his seat, one arm lazily hanging over the back of seat while he sipped at his coffee. “Well you look refreshed, still you’d look better if you didn’t have those drab clothes you still have on.”

“Fashion advice from you? That’s rich.” you muttered under your breath. It was more to yourself and a reflex but the smug chuckle made you roll your eyes. In the odd sense of wins and loses you had with this man, it was a point to Doflamingo. “Your doctor informed me that my Marine uniform was destroyed after they tended to my injuries and this is what I was given when I woke up.”

“Well what are you waiting for?” You frowned at Doflamingo’s words and used your finger to lower one corner of the newspaper to see the servant bow lower than she had with just you and flee the room.

“What was that about?”

“They’re getting you new clothes. Obviously.” You opened your mouth to argue then rolled your eyes, knowing it was pointless. You couldn’t live in one outfit for your time here and you had no money to buy new clothes yourself. Sitting back in your seat, you lifted the paper again to continue reading. News of the warehouse explosion was there, tucked into the corner of a page and summarised in a small handful of paragraphs. Loss of life of Marines and some pirates had been revealed but no names. Slowly you turned the page. You stilled when Doflamingo spoke up.“Your file is interesting…” 

“You must be reading someone else’s.” You noted dryly, remaining casual. “Nothing spectacular in those pages.”

“And that’s exactly how you planned it to be.” You could hear the grin in Doflamingo’s voice. Yet again you lowered the paper to stare at him. You offered no verbal response to his accusation but your expression was trained into one of patient, confusion; waiting for him to elaborate in his theory. “No one rises in the ranks as smoothly and fast as your timeline just to taper off in the middle like this and remain there. Very sneaky, lying to your superiors. Did it annoy you to serve someone who by all rights should have been your subordinate?”

“Only in the cases were they were incompetent but I knew that would be a possibility. As long as the missions were successful I didn’t care.”

“Yet they took the glory. Must have stung.”

“If my vanity needed fed for something as trivial as glory or praise I would have continued to rise the ranks in the Marines, or become a pirate.” You explained with a smirk, seeing his momentarily glower at you. “Any other questions?”

———

“The weapons and ammunition are being unloaded at the docks and all the materials were delivered to Punk Hazard without issue, Doffy.” You heard a new voice coming from one of the rooms up ahead. After you’d showered and changed into one of the many outfits brought to your your on Doflamingo’s order you'd decided to explore more of the castle. If not to have something to do but to also get a better lay of the land. You stepped closer, making no effort to silence your steps. As Doflamingo had said, you weren’t deemed a threat to anything he was doing and the mention of Punk Hazard had caught your attention. You stepped up to the doorway and leant against the doorframe, eyeing the two men standing in front of Doflamingo. 

Doflamingo grinned at your appearance, finding your choice in clothing so much more flattering to your figure instead of your ugly Marine uniform or the rags you’d been wearing that morning. Diamante and Señor Pink had promptly shut their mouths when you arrived. They had been brought up to speed about who you were and why you were still alive. You looked at the two innocently even giving them a taunting little wave. Diamante glanced at Doflamingo questioning silently if he should continue even with the interruption. When his young master nodded, he spoke. “The latest batch of SAD is at the factory now to continue production smoothly.”

You pushed away from the doorframe as they continued talking and ventured further into the room, making note of the large bookcases lining the wall and all of them filled with old and expensive texts in a whole range of subjects. Finally your eyes roamed appreciatively over the stocked drinks cabinet and you pulled open the door to lift out one of the bottles of whiskey. You moved out of the way when one of the glasses flew out from the shelf and you followed its movement until it landed in Doflamingo’s waiting hand. His free hand gestured silently for you to bring the bottle over. Humming to yourself you poured plentiful glass of your own and walked over to Doflamingo’s desk. 

Your lips twitched in amusement to see Doflamingo still lazily hold his glass, waiting for you to pour the drink for him. You sipped your own drink, relishing the taste that only got better when you set the bottle down beside his arm. He could pour it himself, you weren’t his servant. As you glanced at a map set to the side of the desk you heard Diamante’s annoyance drip through his words. “The sooner you work out a way to undo this the sooner you can repay them for their disrespect towards you Doffy.”

“Such a fragile pride your Doffy has if not pouring a drink for him is too much to handle.” You noted sarcastically, pulling the map fully out from underneath the sheets of paper holding it down.“But I hope he finds a way to fix it soon too. Maybe your crazed scientist will work a way.”

“Who says there's a crazed scientist?” Doflamingo asked, grinning as he poured himself a drink for himself. He watched as you looked up from studying the map that had caught your attention to throw him an incredulous look. 

“A guy like you definitely has a mad scientist employed somewhere.” You smirked, looking back to the map. “If you didn’t I think I’d actually respect you less if that were even possible.”

“Doffy you don't need to let them speak to you this way.” Diamante insisted, looking to his leader. He’d literally burned a town to the ground for Doflamingo because he tripped on the street in his youth. He’d killed countless people for looking at the Warlord in a way he wasn't satisfied with. To witness you be so blatantly contemptuous without punishment felt so wrong to him. “I won’t kill them but please let me teach them to hold their tongue.”

“No one harms them, Diamante.” Doflamingo stated firmly and it was enough for Diamante to shut his mouth and nod. “No-one is taking the privilege from me. No matter how much goading they do, don’t hurt them. Make sure everyone knows. You two can go now.”

“Spoilsport.” You grumbled watching the men leave without protest. Here you thought you’d be able to get to the inner circle to be killed but Doflamingo seemed to know your game already. Clicking your tongue in annoyance you swirled your drink before a thought came to you. “What about poison?”

“What about it?”

“If I poured poison into a bottle and you served it between two glasses and we both drank, who would die?” You asked curiously, trying to wrap your head around the logistics of this whole soulmate nonsense. “If we both had a hand in it would we both be spared or both killed?” 

Doflamingo stared at you with a broadening smile, deep laughter building in his chest. He’d really underestimated your mind it seemed. So far you’d seemed so calm and collected, accepting your place here until he found a way to kill you. Apart from the disrespect you threw his way and constant defiance to recognise his authority and superiority, he’d yet to see you snap. To see you break in true anger, fear, or sadness was something he wanted to witness and at this point he didn’t care which of the emotions it was. 

“Sadly I think it would cancel out. I had a similar thought and poisoned your tea this morning and you didn’t react even though the maid poured it.” He explained and as disappointed as he felt that it didn’t work, seeing your own grumpy disappointment shape your face brought him some enjoyment. As he took another slow sip of his drink he spotted how your attention was taken once again by the map in your hand. “What’s got you so invested in that island?”

“I was stationed there for a couple months on a mission at the beginning of the year.” You explained with a shrug setting it aside. Even thinking about your missions felt like a different life. It hurt to know you’d never be a Marine again and help people. “You eyeing it up for an expansion of your mighty empire?”

“Not exactly.” He chuckled. There wasn’t anything you could say or do to stop him or his work so he could say what he liked. “I’m supplying weapons and foot soldiers to a local pirate group for them to take over. In return I get a profit of their enterprise and a share of the island’s natural resources.” At his explanation Doflamingo watched you process his words as you continued to drink, he noted something indecipherable briefly flicker in your eyes but beyond that you kept perfect control of your expression. Now he was even more determined to see what made you tick.

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

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[louebel]

— [ 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐒. ]

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: trafalgar law × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 1,655 wc. mentions of the law novel and spoilers for his backstory, descriptions of his trauma, panic attacks, angst, hurt with comfort, law slowly tries to embrace his past, rushed + not proofread. divider by @ benkeibear. 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: law has a nightmare. he appreciates your comfort.

“Hnn..!”

It was one of those nights again.

Sweat tumbled down his temple. No source of light. The polar tang was deep in the abyss. Your soft snores. The blanket hooding you both.

His hands were shaky. His chest was pounding. His lips agape.

“U—uh…”

Just a dream. Just a dream. No.

Not a dream. Reality. The past. Their corpses. The ruins of his city. Bestowed upon him, the laments and dirges of Flevance. They chanted and howled, damned souls who shrieked and condemned the morose government, a newborn Canto VI; Dante’s most passionate inspiration. Mystical, a fantasy, but no dream it was. No, it was not.

If only it could be.

The repugnant fetor of sulfur and acrid smog, ingrained in his nostrils, the buzzing of the flies as he walked among the stench of methane. It was a remote remembrance, clear as a fragile vase of glass, one that would shatter over and over and make his sluggish heart weep, no matter how many times he fixed and carried it. A life torn piece by piece by what was, and is, the ruthless world.

Gone were the days he could live free from his mind, the faces of those he yearned to meet once more, nothing but an ignis fatuus, one that served heartache and warmth in unison. Acerbic, pungent, more than any fruit, acidic upon his tender skin, spilled upon his skull and dissolved it without an ounce of control.

His favorite comics brought dolor. What was formerly one of his dearest pages developed into the fuel of his insecurities, thoughts.

“Look, brother! Sora didn’t die! I told you he wouldn’t!”

His sister’s giggles, nebulous; muffled, lost in time.

“Is it clear, Law? If you’re uncertain, tell me, alright? I’ll explain it to you as many times as you need.”

His father’s lessons but a distant reminiscence.

“Like this, sweetie. You’re a fast learner! Look at you, my smart baby. Mommy’s always here.”

His mother’s delicate hands guiding him, now a phantom.

His childhood companions’ cheering whenever he scored the max on a test, quieter than the gale. The nun’s concerned gaze when he carried Lami and asked to bring her home when she got wounded, forever gone. Corazon’s clumsy scenes he wanted to see again. His smile.

“I love you, Law!”

All their unconditional love.

Love. Love.

He shut his eyes.

How much he craved it. Tore apart in a single night, shredded in another after so thoroughly rebuilding it. And now here he was, trying again. But oh, was it difficult. His breathing often faltered, one false move able to destabilize him. Reconstructing it with paper was an enterprise. A fragment given by each of the people he met — little ones by the citizens in Swallow Island, bigger ones by Wolf, Bepo, Penguin, Shachi, his crew, and what survived of his fractured history was utilized as a base. Yours was almost a blanket. It was a prodigious sheet.

They all supported themselves simultaneously. But it wobbled. A lot. Often he couldn’t manage it. Terrified, alone, as he watched all his efforts about to topple. But it never did.

“… Law?”

Oh no. He woke you up.

“Go to sleep.” It came almost like a snap — to not show he was suffering.

Just go to sleep. Don’t bother with him. Don’t.

“Well… now I won’t do that.” you groggily said, his fingers clenching as you propped yourself up with an elbow. “Nightmare?”

You couldn’t see him in the darkness, but he was still an open book. He couldn’t lie to you, nor did he want to. He tried his best to change his mannerisms and patterns.

You’re his partner. Not a stranger.

“Yeah.” he exhaled tremulously, thorns in his throat.

He heard the rustles, the heat of your frame radiating against his. He couldn’t see you, but he imagined you — feeling your massages and head upon his shoulder. It tickled his neck a little.

“Mh. Baby … it’s okay. It’s okay.”

Obscurity and death clutched him with crisp, meager bones and itching shadows. However, a minor light banished them all; tender, so generous. That sound, yours… Fleeting fingers and honeyed pampering.

His droopy and heavy eyelids fluttered open, those golden eyes that carried unspoken anguish all but courageous; what was a mask he got used to wearing now sunk in the void, crystal tears brimming and gushing down his visage, scrunched up and full of lineaments. Quakes wracked his body, hisses leaving his quivering lips.

“I—I…” Nothing came out. Yet your arms remained still around him.

“Sh … Slowly honey. Take your time. I’m here.”

Here. With him.

“I… I’m so sorry. So sorry. Please forgive me. Please.”

Oh, that poor, poor man … What did he do to deserve this? To experience a catastrophe?

“M—Mom… Dad…”

“Law, hey—”

“La—Lami, Cora… Cora-san..!” He couldn't stop. As one sob wrenched from his lungs, another came, and another, and another, and another. His spine twisted, facing down; curling against you, your lips on his brow.

"Law." You called him gingerly, smoothly, hugging him close. Don't let me go, was all he thought.

"It's not your fault. Never. It's okay. Shh… Honey, hey… It's okay baby, it's okay. You're okay. Shh… Look at me."

And he did. Your palms seemed so much more real. An opportunity, some place to run. A light.

"There we go. Good job sweetie. It's okay. You're okay. It's not your fault."

"… N—not …"

"Not your fault. Never your fault, sweetheart. Everything is okay."

"… Mh. Mmhm."

He responded, unable to form coherent sentences, and cradled you close like a lifeline — the only anchor in this storm. You held him just as tightly, grazing his tense, knotted back. He was shuddering so much.

"Good job. That's my Law. Shh…"

It hurt. It truly did. To catch him like this, to see him so bare. No child, person, should ever go through such horrible things — you remembered how you both cried when he opened up. That confidence he wore for all of his crew finally crumbling at the ounce of vulnerability the universe granted him.

Shachi and Penguin never mentioned it. They divulged tales about Swallow Island — but they kept quiet about Law's other past, respecting his privacy. Bepo was a bit more clumsy with his sayings, information slipping from his fangs before he could stop it. (He'd quickly cover his mouth, a little squeak escaping it.)

When Law revealed everything, it was chaotic. You both had an argument some hours before. You were shocked he didn't crumple in your arms.

Seldom you’ve seen him cry.

"They—they would've liked you," he mumbled between hiccups, the tinge of nostalgia palpable.

"Law…"

"I wish you could've met them. I- I really wish they were here." They’d be proud, wouldn’t they? He could’ve worked with his father. His mother. Lami would’ve been a wonderful nurse or a doctor. Corazon would have joined him.

In another life, perhaps. Now the Rose held them.

"I wish I could've met them, too. I know you miss them… But they're—" his skin molded under your pointing finger as you pressed right on his sweet, scarred heart, "—right here. Forever. They're proud of you. I know they are."

"… I … hope so." he believed so, too — but saying it felt too egoistic of him. If you knew, you’d knock his head. He could tell.

"No no, baby. They are. I'm proud of you, too. So proud. Okay?"

He breathed deeply, nodding slowly.

"Okay. Okay."

“Good. You’re getting better,” you assured him, and those words never felt more gratifying. He had to be kind to himself. Gentle. The mind is fragile. He hopes — no, he knows you’d forgive him for being harsh on himself before. He knows. He knows.

“I try. I do. It's so hard, though,” he sniffed, resting his forehead on yours, to feel your warmth, your breath, your vitality, his "Beatrice", “they went too soon, sometimes I wish I could’ve followed them.” he admits, and your eyes grow more compassionate.

“But … my friends. My crew. The people I’ve met. What my family would want, Corazon’s wish. You. I’m glad to be here,” he says, taking deep breaths between. He’s safe in your arms. He can go at his own pace.

“Are you glad to be alive?” Some might see your question as idiotic, but Law knows the difference.

“That … I cannot tell. Sometimes I still feel like I don’t deserve it.”

“Mh.”

It was rather quiet after that. Only your breathing and his. The stirring of your pajamas. The hushed buzzing of the submarine.

It was welcome, though.

“Change is complex,” he then spoke, looking at you with a glimpse of hope. “but … I’m willing to try. I have to. For the crew, for you, for—for me.”

Tranquility took him when you smiled, something unlocking in his spirit. It wasn’t onerous anymore.

“Good. Especially for you, honey. We appreciate you being so tough, truly, but…” you brushed your lips on his jaw and peppered soft, tiny kisses. “There's nothing wrong with being weak. We all are. If you fight it, it hurts. It’s just us. Our feeble little selves. Give yourself a break from time to time. You are doing well.”

Law deeply appreciated your snogs, his frantic heartbeat calming. You led him down onto the mattress again, covering both your forms with the blanket.

“Let go, honey. Cry. And don’t hold back. You’re safe now.”

Tender murmurs filled the night. Law's head rested in the crook of your neck. His frightened mourns eased, his restless limbs no longer a problem — caresses and soothing, calm words eased the poor child, who wanted nothing but to live in peace.

And so he reached Eden, your pious hand accompanying him to Paradiso.

[loriannbowman]

Honkai: Star Rail X Arknights | Yandere!Sunday X Sankta!Reader

You had no idea how you got to this city of bright lights and sounds. Music seems to pour in from every corner and building. The last thing you remember, is Doctor Loriann sent you to the rec-room and you decided to take a little nap. And now you're 'awake' in this bizarre and unknown city. What seems like thousands of people swarm the streets. Just where the hell are you?

"Excuse me? Are you lost?~" a sweet voice asks you.

You whip your head around to see a man with a halo... and wings sprouting from his head? Sankta have wings, yes, but never from their head... At least not the ones you've met, and you've met quite a few.

"U-Um... Y-Yeah..." you stutter out, unsure if talking to a stranger in a strange place is the best idea.

He looks at you, focusing his gaze on you. You can almost feel the deep set eyes burning into your soul.

"U-Uh... S-Sir...? Why are you-"

His stare grows harder before he looks away, letting out a sigh.

"Are you not a Halovian?"

"Ha-what? Is that some different title for a Sankta?"

"Sankta...?" he whispers under his breath. "You have a halo."

"Y-Yeah... I do..."

"So are you not a Halovian?"

"No."

His eyes seem to sharpen and a small scowl crosses his body.

He steps closer to you. You have no idea what he plans to do until-

He reaches out and touches your halo. You can't help but yelp at the cool touch from his gloved hands.

"So you can feel my touch."

You swat his hand.

"Of course I can!"

"Interesting..."

You push his away, trying to make space.

"A-Anyway, sir, do you know where I am?"

The man tilts his head confused.

"You're in Penacony."

"Pena-wha-? What's with all these names?! Never mind... D-Do you know how I got here?"

"... Did you not enter a dream pool?"

"Dream pool?! Are you-" you shake your head, now is not the time to be rude to someone, "No, no I didn't. The last thing I remember was being on the Rhodes Island Land Ship and going to take a nap."

"Rhodes Island...? I've never heard of that."

"What? Even very secluded people know of Rhodes Island..."

The man hums slightly.

"Interesting... it seems as though... we have a stowaway..."

"Stowaway?! I didn't even mean to come here!"

"Yes, I can clearly see that, however I still need to take you into custody for the protection of the Family and the citizens of Penacony. Though, as a head of the Family myself, I will be taking you with me. It's best if no one else knows of this, it might cause anxiety amongst the people."

"So I'm getting arrested... cool. Doctor, when I get back, you're getting kicked."

❥ Sunday doesn't understand how or why you got here. He monitors the coming and going of every person that enters the dreamscape, and the reverie.

❥ Sunday is confused. He tried to communicate with you through telepathy to keep the conversation privet, yet... you couldn't connect to him.

❥ Sunday keeps you under custody. That custody, however, his by his side at all times. He wants to understand what is with you.

❥ Sunday, who's every thought is slowing shifting to figuring you out. How did you come here? Where are you from? Why do you also have a halo? Why do you know nothing of Aeons and Paths?

❥ Sunday who can't help but itch wanting to pick you apart.

❥ Sunday who doesn't want to let you go, because if you do, he fears he may never see you again, he may never figure out this mystery.

[justadeadreaper]

COD Angel AU

Residing among the clouds, far into the sky above looming over all the mortals below is the pearly gates of Heaven. Standing tall the cold golden gates separate all the souls from what they may experience if they are lucky enough to be accepted through as people say an unfit ring is tight but the rules to be accepted into Heaven are tighter.

But what most people may not know that just beyond the gates is not just an ethereal land beyond the wildest dreams of even the most exclaimed poets with their muses. From the churning clogs of the outer cities that moved the ever growing pillars that would formed into new structures where their residents could pry away from the holiest of eyes as flora spilled out of cracks in the ancient stone as it cascaded down to the streets to the middle cities that consisted entirely of floating islands and mountain ranges kept hidden from the outer city residents by the persistent fogs of clouds that enveloped it in a permanent mist that would never reveal the temples carved from the mountains that must have inspired the temples and colosseums on Earth as waterfalls flow down into the clouds below to the inner cities that have less buildings except for a few special ones that were designated to be there by the Almighty as the many stars, hatched or unhatched, come together to make constellations that the Angels blessed enough to live there call home, it is mostly empty space as the Angels who live there do not need the luxuries but need the space compared to the rest of their brethren.

A total of nine cities all together, each one forming a ring around the pillar of light. The innermost three are the smallest as the least amount of Angels live there compared to the outermost three are the largest as an abundance of Angels live there. Each ring became larger as it was further away from the pillar but the light that graced them instead became duller but it was never not there as even if it was dull there had to be light.

The backdrop formed from a never ending nebula that no living mortal would be blessed enough to see. A starry night of colours unimaginable and seeable to mortals that painted a picture only the ethereal residents could behold as new angels emerged from the stars, bursting open from the shell that kept them separated from their brethren. But none of that mattered as the only thing the angels seemed to bother over resided in the middle of Heaven. A pillar of light, no, a pillar of pure energy and colour that would gyre around itself before entering into another plane of existence entirely to build the throne of the Almighty as a chorus of wings twisted and moulded together twisted alongside the pillar as it sang out in praise an echoing melody that filled every millimetre in Heaven, a constant reminder of its leader. Instead of the confines of the military the characters from COD find themselves instead caged behind the gates of Heaven to live in a paradise made to fulfil every wish and dream. Replacing the ranks of the military are the ethereal residents of Heaven consisting of mostly Angels and a few other holy creatures. The First Hierarchy consisting of the Seraphim, Cherubim, and Thrones or also known as the Wheels then the Second Hierarchy consisting of the Dominions, Virtues, and Powers then the Third Hierarchy consisting of the Principalities, Archangels, and Angels which can be separated into the Common Angels and Guardian Angels, although the last ranking of Heaven are the Putto and the Ethereals that are not exactly Angels but holy nonetheless. Each rank but the Ethereals are split into three. The Highers, the most righteous of that rank, only consisting of five percent of the rank, they are the Angels deemed to be the most perfect forms of that rank. The ones with no title but that of the rank are known to be the average, not too powerful and not too weak, the model example of that rank which makes up eighty percent of the rank. The Lowers, the weakest of that rank, known to be the Angels that just scrape the bare minimum of requirements needed to be an Angel of that rank. The First Hierarchy are the Godly Servants, the Second Hierarchy are the Heavenly Rulers, and the Third Hierarchy are the Earthly Messengers. Instead of being separated into ranks by their power they are separated by how close they are to the Almighty. The Godly Servants only purpose is to exist within Heaven and carry out acts immediately next to God while the Heavenly Rulers exclusively exist within the confines of Heaven however their actions affect the mortals upon on Earth, however the Earthly Messengers like what the same suggests are the angels that directly interact with Earth’s mortal and can either reside on Earth with their mortals or in Heaven.

Seraphim: The Angels closest to the Almighty that either have an eye as a head or a human head as their body is supposedly of a human form made up of light with six feathered wings attached to their back. The head has rarely been glimpsed by any Angels of other ranks as they only allow the other Seraphim or the Almighty and other beings just as Holy to see it. They do it by using two of the wings to cover their face with two of their wings being used to cover their feet as the two other wings are constantly waving back and forth as to keep themselves a float next to the Almighty to continue their duties. The Seraphim are considered the highest in the hierarchy by all the other Angels due to how their duty is to be constantly next to the Almighty as they are the caretakers of the throne who move it about when the Almighty wants to move as they are constantly singing the praises of the Almighty.

Cherubim: The Angels that surround the Almighty but are slightly further away than the Seraphim as they are made up of four faces: the head of a man, the head of an oxen, the head of a lion, and the head of an eagle with the the body of either a lion or a man or even both with the upper torso of a man attached to the body of a lion instead of having human legs much like that of a centaur, they have the feet of an oxen and have an unnamed amount of their wings that are covered with eyes. As they constantly moved around Heaven a bright fire that glowed with every colour known to man and not, and out of this fire came strikes of lightning and thunder as a ring of stones lit ablaze surrounded them. Their duty was that as the Almighty sits on the throne that they say be beneath it as one Cherub is chosen to guide and help the Seraphim in moving it while the other Cherubims act as the guards around the throne of the Almighty. 

Thrones or Wheels: The Angels that surround the Almighty with no specific duty they have the most range in their appearance as they are four wheels within wheels are constantly spinning, never stopping as they have four wings, two to fly and two to cover part of itself, with eyes covering every inch of the wheels looking in every direction and from within them in their centre was a fire that was like it held a kaleidoscope of colours within itself instead of the normal colours of a blaze as it continued to burn from inside of the spinning wheel as there are eyes or beings or creatures that are surrounded and stay within the flames. They are the biggest Angels compared to the rest as they are ginormous being larger than mountains as segments of their rings reside beneath the sky as they can be larger than the sky or the mountains or the ocean or even larger if the moment called for it, they are so large that whenever they moved their wings it sounded as if it was waves of the sea in a storm were crashing against a cliff side to destroy it and that whenever they whispered a word it was as if it was breaking eardrums like a banging thunder storm. They have no specific duty but to sing the praises of the Almighty as the other Angels such as the Cherubim reach into their flames to take out coal that burns in colours unimaginable to any mortal when they are blessing a house.

Dominions: The Angels that are the judges and regulators of Heaven, they like all the Angels in the Heavenly Rulers and Earthly Messengers look similar to the Common Angels but what make the Dominions unique are the golden staff held in their right hand and in their left hand is the seal of the Almighty as they are dressed like the royalty of Earth as they are decked in gold as a physical reminder to the lower Angels that they are the ones that keep them in line and makes sure that they do their duties. While their duties that affect Earth and mortal as a judge for the Almighty when it is deemed that judgement is necessary and they then carry out the action like whenever mortals have a large scale conflict where they battle against each other as to pass judgement on the warriors but also bring mercy upon the warriors who need it as they are the judges that the Almighty needs to both bring the punishment and mercy need. But, they also have dominion over certain areas of Earth through concepts such as wisdom or leadership which they will gift to their favoured rulers through dominions. As mentioned before they have reign over the lower rank Angels but they also reign over things such as the cosmos, the planets, the stars, and everything that makes up the sky and galaxy.

Virtues: The Angels of nature made up of a shining, bright fire like it is a light itself which has given them the name of the shining ones as if they are directly linked to the Seraphim in appearance as the Seraphim are known as the fiery ones but they are instead depicted to look like the Common Angels as the things that make them unique is the white lilies that represent the perfection of the Almighty are held in in one hand and red roses that the represent the love and blood of Christ are held in another. Their duty is to be the governors over nature and the elements themselves, but not just nature as in the wilderness but also the nature of mortals as they are the ones that are Angels giving mortals things such as faith, courage, strength and valour when mortals pray to the Almighty for their faith to be strengthened or when the Almighty needs someone needs them to impart help on a mortal who gravely needs it. It is this power of nature that allows for them to be sent by the Almighty to perform miracles in the Almighty’s name upon Earth when it is needed. They are in general the Angels that are tasked with giving all of the good types of attitudes or spirits that people have and are the direct reason for the spirits that make individuals themselves and not carbon copies of each other.

Powers: The Angels that make up Heaven’s army, covered in armour made of a mixture of the shells of stars, Holy light, and gold alongside some form of weaponry at their side which can be anything from a sword to a spear to a bow with arrows of light. Their duty as the army of Heaven make them a force of anti-demonic warriors to be the guardians against demonic presence as they constantly fight both a physical and spiritual war with the demons that have infected Earth as the Powers are fighting temptation to stop the Devil and his legion of Fallen Angels from convincing people to commit sins or try to put their influence over people to cause wars and more sins to be committed and the Demons that try to tear their way back through the gates to drag more Angels down to Hell alongside them meaning that most have to guard the gate that separates both Heaven and Earth and have to escort the souls that have died over into Heaven and through the gates as to make sure that no Demon can steal the soul or follow it into Heaven. While Cherubims are the Almighty’s guards the Powers play a more significant task by being the guards of the entirety of Heaven itself as they bless mortals, specifically the leaders, power to fight off the wickedness and evil of the Devil.

Principalities: The Angels that rule over Earth, decorated with royal attire alongside their own crown and sceptre made entirely of gold and the most valuable of jewels. Their duty is to rule over different regions of Earth which can be anything from the biggest of nations to the smallest villages to the monarchs of great empires to the small groups of people to even the churches, they practically rule over everything that makes up Earth as to make sure that the ministries of Earth continues on for millenia to come. Due to being the Angels that are focused on ruling over people and the different areas of Earth they are given the duty to bless mortals with a blessing of divine knowledge which is to help mortals make breakthroughs in science as to benefit humanity, or by helping mortals discover a talent, or by helping mortals create art to make the groundbreaking and breathtaking pieces of art that relate to the Almighty. Although they can also give out strength like the Powers and Virtues if they deem that it is needed by certain mortals that the Powers may have missed as it was not related to Demons or the Virtues may have missed as it was not related to the Almighty.

Archangels: The Angels that are the most tricky to explain as they has only ever specifically identified as an Archangel and that is the Archangel Michael the warrior which makes it look as if there can only be one Archangel as the Archangel is overarching that will be the one to finally get rid of the Devil at the end of time which makes it most believable that there is only one. But, then there is the messenger Gabriel and how in Revelations when it talks through the end of times it mentions how there are two Angels there overall which implies that they are most likely on the same level as each other, then again in Revelations it mentions that alongside with Michael surrounding the throne of the Almighty when there is the final fight against the Devil that there is six other Angels alongside him. These six are believed to be Raphael the Angel of Healing and leader of the Virtues, Gabriel the Angel who is the Almighty’s messenger, Jophiel the Angel of Beauty, Ariel the Angel of Nature, Azrael the Angel of Death, and Chamuel the Angel of Relations. They are most likely the most powerful Angels of all as they are warriors and Angels of these different ideas or different categories but since Raphael is believed to be a Virtue and Michael is believed be a Seraph it means that Archangels are not their own classification of Angel but instead a title given to these very seven important Angels.

Common Angels: The Angels that are most common due to their abundance, they look near identical to humans but have wings like a dove and are much taller than humans but the proportions of their limbs is off which at first makes them unnerving. Their duty can be anything from creating small miracles to serving and protecting Christians to going back and forth to receive and deliver messages as they use their great amounts of power to perform the duties of Heaven.

Guardian Angels: The Angels that are technically Common Angels but have been given the duty to watch over a specific soul that they should protect and help. The only difference between the Guardian Angels is that they wear a specialised rosary that links them to the soul that they protect.

Puttos: The Angels what most people think of when they hear Cherubs due to art but these small children with wings are actually the Angels in Heaven that spread mischievous and pranks around Heaven to keep the Angels of higher ranks happy by entertaining them with their games.

Ethereals: Beings that are not Angels but are instead welcomed to stay into Heaven due to being Holy in nature. This can be the Unicorns that link to a virgin that they must protect, or the souls that have the ability to project their soul and turn it into a wolf to help the Angels when they sleep, or the spiders that use their threads to weave together parts of Heaven that need rebuilding after the Angels have had accidents with their powers, or other creatures that mortals did not even know existed. Each Angel is born from a star and is directly linked to that star. They make a tear through the middle of the star and emerge out as if they were a butterfly escaping the chrysalis that had kept them safe through their transformation. It is believed that whenever there is a shooting star that it is an Angel that has fallen from Heaven. Angels can change their form to suit their own specific taste but can not transform to be of a form of an Angel higher ranking than them although they can transform themselves to have appearances or pieces to make themselves look unique as long as they have the necessities in appearance for other Angels to identify what rank they are.

Sorry if anything is wrong, this is me using information I learnt from my Christian upbringing and have been told by people I know who are a lot more knowledgeable than me with this subject and I have tried to condense it as much as I can. This is an AU that anyone can use but this is just the foundation and base and the basic rules to it so people can build from it and have a starting point to expand from. Soon I will be posting my version of COD characters as Angels which people can use for stories or headcanons. All I ask is to use the tag I made for the AU, for you to credit me for the AU, and credit me for using my version of the character, apart from that go wild and have fun with this AU.

Characters: ~König

[fairykazu]

letters to her ft. kazuha

cws: established relationship, f! reader (referred as lady, princess, etc), third person, making up lore to fit the story, princess bride ref

masterlist

kazuha stood tall amidst the warmer breeze that inazuma had to shoulder for the spring, every cherry blossom tree was in bloom, the pink petals falling to the ground. he pocketed one petal for her as his long, white hair dancing like ribbons of silk in the gentle winds. red eyes scanning the horizon as he was searching for a glimpse of the one who held his heart captive.

just before leaving to inazuma last night, he had written her another letter, his heart pouring out onto the parchment paper as if it was the lighting storm that showers over the islands, blessed by the electro archon herself. he wrote carefully as the ink stained his fingers; words blurred together as his vision began to blur with tears. unspoken words he'd never said out loud.

as he was traveling by boat to the city, the memory of their first meeting came flooding back, he remembered it as if it was yesterday. he was left, stranded, in the harsh wilderness of the islands, abandoned to care for himself.

thankfully, a woman had taken him in out of pity. although kazuha wasn't the type to believe in the archons like he used to, he thanked them above for blessing his eyes with her. her beautiful, sparkling eyes and her dimples when she smiled. she was truly someone who was as beautiful as the ocean waves when they crash on the shore. he had fallen to her charms quicker than the first snowflake that danced in the winter.

he remembered how kind she was as she poured him some jasmine tea. her delicate hands made him feel safe. even then, in his heart, he had known that she was the one. the one who would make all his pain and suffering worth it.

once he arrived on the dock of the city, it had been a long time since he saw her. years had passed since, but their love for each other had only grown stronger. they exchanged countless letters, sharing their deepest desires and fears. promises were made, vowing to be together soon. kazuha took out a letter from his pocket, unfolding it. clutching it close to his chest, the scent of her perfume lingered on the paper, taunting him with the memory of her.

closing his eyes, he allowed himself to be consumed by the moments of their time together, reliving each memory as if it were happening all at once.

he chuckled silently to himself as he remembered the way she would laugh, how her eyes would sparkle when she smiled, nights they spent together, whispering secrets and sharing dreams beneath the starlit sky.

like how the archon mythology had said when people were originally had four arms, four legs and two heads, but when the archons had a war, it eventually split the people into beings with two arms, two legs and one head, doomed or blessed them with their other half wandering the world.

maybe, she was his other half, and he was fated to be hers forevermore.

his heart started to race once he arrived at her estate, hoping that he would be embraced by her arms once again. pink blossoms waltzed in the wind around him, the scent of love in the air. the grand mansion loomed before him, its towers reaching towards the celestials.

the door was guarded with two knights, clad in their bright armor, holding onto their polearms as if their life depended on it. he took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. one of them asked the ivory haired samurari,

"state your business."

"i am here to see the lady." kazuha replied, staying calm despite the broody knights staring daggers into his soul. he smiled politely as one of them raised a brow,

"the lady? don't be silly, young man. everyone in the world wants to see the lady. please show me how you know her."

kazuha didn't expect the security to increase when he was gone. he handed the letter he recieved from you recently to the broody knight number one.

broody knight number one laughed in kazuha's face, the saliva sticking to his face. he grabbed a tissue, wiping his face. "young man, don't make me laugh!” loud, booming fits of laughter came from both knights. “this is no way the lady's handwriting." he squinted, passing it to the second broody knight.

"i agree. this must be a bootleg version. nice try, kid." kazuha tried to take back the letter but the knight only had ripped it up in front of him, his eyes grew to saucers, watching the parchment become one with the pink flowers. as kazuha was about to unsheathe his sword, a little man, dressed in all black, presumably the butler, creaked open the doors. he waddled to one of the knights, whispering something.

as the laughter took a full stop, a moment of silence increased the tension. the knights' facade of being proud dropped completely, laughing nervously. "my apologies, sir kaedehara, we weren't aware of your business with the lady."

he retorted back, "you would've if you read the contents of the letter." the knight opened the door wide open, making the brass knockers clink against the wooden door.

as the doors were still open, kazuha sauntered his way into the mansion; it revealed a grand hall adorned with tapestries and different styled paintings of your family. kazuha could feel the weight of the knights' daggered gaze upon his head again, he chuckled nervously, forgetting that he made a remark towards their intergity.

most definitely, deserved though.

he made his way towards the staircase that led to the upper levels of her estate.

as he ascended up on the marble stairs, the tension in the air grew more cruel, colder. it was as if the whole world was holding their breath, waiting for him to arrive; it made him realize that he was holding his breath too.

he made himself relax as he paused for a moment on the top of the stairs, taking in the surroundings around him. from the lavish furnishings to countless, new portraits framed in gold, each single one served as a painful reminder of his time apart from you.

he was familiar with the hallways, turning a left, reaching her chamber. his heart was pounding in his chest, taking a deep breath just before he steadied himself. he knocked on the door, "my lady, are you there?"

a moment of silence came before a click of the latch replied to kazuha's question. the door swung open, revealing his lady in front of him. she was more beautiful than he ever remembered, even if he attempted to remember her appearance, engraved in his mind. it couldn't compare to reality

. her eyes lit up like sparkles in the night sky, "hello, my knight, how are you? how was your journey?" she said with grace, upholding the reputation she has across many towns. her voice was soft and sweet just like how he remembered.

taking her delicate hands into his calloused ones, he kissed her knuckles, "it was beautiful despite the harshness of the weather." your face shifted uncomfortably. "don't worry, princess, i wasn't hurt badly. in fact," from his bag, he grabbed a single rainbow rose he saved just for her. "i have this flower for you. it reminded me of you."

she smiled, her teeth shining brightly, "thank you, my knight. care to come in?"

kazuha nodded. the door behind him shut closed. she took a deep breath, taking a step forward, her facade as a perfect lady crumbled before him. her hand trembled, reaching out to his cheek, "kazuha," she whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion. "you've come back to me." tears began to form, creating little pearls at her eyes.

"i promised that i would." kazuha replied, gently comforting her as she pulled him into a tight embrace, clinging to him as if she might never let go. he wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck, breathing in her familiar scent.

it was the scent of home, of love, of everything that had maintained him during the years they had been apart. kazuha departed from her embrace. he lit the fireplace as it crackled and cackled. he returned to the nook of the bedroom. he carried her to the loveseat, sitting next to her. she gazed into her lover's eyes,

she sniffled, "kazuha, i adore you. although sometimes i wonder if i'd be enough for you?" her snot running down her nose, he quickly retrieved a tissue, wiping the snot from her face.

"you know, i'll always come back to you, princess," he said softly, brushing a lock of hair from her face. "no matter where I go or what I do, you'll always be the star that guides me home."

she smiled through her tears; her face began to light up. "and you, kazuha, my love, you're the only one who can make this place feel like home." she leaned into him, her body warm and familiar against his. "stay with me, won't you?"

he returned her smile, sweetly, wiping a single tear off her face, "of course, my lady, i wouldn't want to be anywhere else but with you." he pressed a kiss to her head, humming a tune.

she nodded, sniffling, wiping her nose with the tissue kazuha gave her. "thank you, my knight." she rested her head against his shoulder, her breath warm against his neck. "i've missed your stories about your adventures; do tell me, what have you been up to since you left?"

"as you wish, my lady."

[dmitriene]

𝗚𝗨𝗔𝗥𝗗𝗜𝗔𝗡.

❝𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧❞ 𝘥𝘪 𝘣𝘧 𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯 𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥𝘺 𝘹 𝘨𝘧 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

❝𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬❞ 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘹 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘳, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱

❝𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗦❞ 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵, 𝘶𝘯𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯, 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳, 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦

❝𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥'𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘❞ 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢, 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘪 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯, 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵!

 ✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

The deep evening fell over the country bar like a velvet curtain, bathing the cozy interior in a soft, dim light, the streets outside were shrouded in a slight chill, but the warmth of the alcohol quickly spread through your body, creating a comfortable cocoon enveloping you.

The bar became your sanctuary today, a haven of familiarity and intimacy, the floor was carpeted, leather sofas lined the walls, and countless conversations and shared secrets were kept on the wooden tables.

Here you sat at the bar and enjoyed your favorite cocktail while Leon, your boyfriend, sipped on a long island iced tea.

The taste of vodka was soothing on Leon's throat and you looked at him with a soft smile, his brown hair falling over his forehead and his piercing blue eyes filled with mischief, the way he looked at you like an adoring puppy always made your heart flutter.

You reached across the counter, your fingers brushing against his and he turned his hand to gently kiss your knuckles, a gesture that spoke of his deep affection for you and made you laugh softly.

— «How's your work been, Leon?» you asked, your voice filled with genuine concern as you knew the dangers he faced as a government agent and you constantly worried about him.

He leaned closer, and the faint scent of his cologne mingled with the soothing woody scent of the bar — «Well, t's been a wild ride, but i can handle it» he assured you with a confident smile — «Knowing that you're waiting for me at home keeps me going, sweetheart»

You felt a swellnes of love in your chest as you looked into his eyes, Leon wasn't just your boyfriend — he was your rock, the one who made you feel safe and wanted, his lips found yours and you shared a soft, long kiss, the taste of his long island iced tea mingled with your cocktail, infecting with its sweetness.

The bar was filled with the subtle hum of conversation and the clink of glasses, the dimly lit room was decorated with vintage posters and vintage memorabilia, giving the space character.

There was a talented musician performing on the wooden stage at the far end of the bar, and the sweet music flowed through the air, setting the mood for the evening, so you couldn't help but tap your foot to the beat, feeling the music seep into your soul.

Leon placed his hand on the back of your bar stool, pulling you closer to him — «I thought» he said in a low and thoughtful voice — «Maybe we should plan a trip somewhere away from all this chaos»

Your eyes lit up with excitement at the thought — «I'd love that» you answered with obvious ringing enthusiasm — «Somewhere peaceful, where we can forget about the world for a while»

The two of you discussed potential destinations, sharing dreams of sandy beaches, serene forests and foreign, bustling cities, and the more you talked, the more you realized how much you both wanted a break from the constant demands of your lives.

The deeper the evening went, the more you noticed the background music, suddenly a jazz melody began to sound, finding a certain response in your soul, and you leaned closer to Leon, touching his ear with your lips and whispering — «I like this song»

He nodded in agreement, his hand found yours on the counter, and his head occasionally swayed to the beat — «A good choice indeed» he muttered, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine.

In the midst of the music, your thoughts drifted back to the adventures and trials you had faced together, Leon had always been there for you, no matter what, a constant presence in your life, and you couldn't help but feel a flash of affection for him and reached out to stroke his cheek with your fingertips.

The touch of your fingers against his skin sent a delicious shiver through Leon's body, and he turned his head and took your hand in his, kissing your palm tenderly.

After a moment, his lips moved higher, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek, leaving a warm, lingering sensation on your skin, sliding intimately before he reached your earlobe and whispered that he needed to leave, promising to return soon.

You nodded, smiling tenderly at him as he disappeared into the crowd, the warmth of his presence and the scent of his cologne still lingering in the air.

Turning your attention to the bar, you decided to order another round of drinks, the music continued to play, its soothing melodies still touching your heart, and you tapped your nails on the counter, lost in the rhythm.

As you leaned towards the counter, your thoughts drifted back to the plans you and Leon had discussed earlier, the idea of a peaceful getaway seemed more tempting than ever and you couldn't wait to make that dream a reality, allowing you to wistfully draw pictures in your mind of vacation together.

Just as you were about to signal the bartender to order, a sudden touch on your shoulder made you raise an eyebrow, you turned around, wondering if Leon had returned earlier than expected, but when you saw the stranger sitting down next to you, your heart sank to your feet.

He was clearly drunk, with the distinctive smell of alcohol surrounding him, a few buttons on his chest were carelessly undone — the disheveled aftermath of some previous encounter, his disgusting appearance and bold behavior were red signs that made you wary.

His hand, bold and inappropriate, reached for your waist and you tensed, the invasion of your personal space sending a shiver of discomfort down your spine.

You looked around for the bartender, but he was busy at the far end of the bar serving other customers, so your heart began to pound like in a cage as you tried to stay calm.

— «Please don't touch me» you said firmly, your voice laced with irritation, but the stranger seemed to find your protest amusing.

He let out a deep, unsettling laugh, his alcohol laden breath washing over you — «Don't play hard to get» he slurred, his words full of arrogance — «You're a real beauty»

His hand moved further down, landing firmly on your thigh and you quickly had enough, with a sudden and decisive movement you turned away from his touch, causing your bar stool to sway dangerously.

The loud scraping sound caught the attention of the surrounding patrons and you were no longer willing to endure this man's advances.

You stood up abruptly, the bar stool toppling over and the stranger's grin turning into an indignant grimace, you stood your ground, your voice firm and decisive as you spoke to him, asserting your safety, radiating disgust — «I told you to keep your hands to yourself, this is your final warning»

Your abrupt reaction caused the stranger to frown, his drunken arrogance faltering as you firmly asserted your boundaries, to which he rudely retorted, accusing you of overreacting to a simple compliment.

There was a hint of condescension in his words, and one could not help but be outraged by the insolence of this vile man.

You stood your ground, the discomfort of the situation fell heavily on your shoulders — «I didn't ask for your attention» you replied, disappointment evident in your voice as you spoke, you took a few steps back to distance yourself from the man invading your personal space.

In your rush, you bumped into other people, prompting irritated grumbling and comments telling you to be more careful.

The man continued to taunt, his arrogance undiminished, his alcohol laden breath burning your nostrils as he leaned closer and you felt a wave of anxiety course through your veins.

The situation was out of your control, you clenched your hands at your sides in trembling fists, starting to panic and nervously look towards the dark crowd in the direction where Leon had left earlier.

And as soon as you began to despair and your thoughts turned to your boyfriend, a strong hand pulled the stranger by the shoulder, making him recoil, and the collar of his disheveled shirt clenched tighter, while Leon’s whitened fist hovered menacingly before the man’s eyes.

The stranger, in a drunken stupor, grinned defiantly — «Who do you think you are, handsome?» he slurred, his words were rude and mocking — «It's none of your business»

Leon's voice was cold and authoritative as he growled — «That became my business when you couldn't respect her boundaries»

The stranger's bravado faltered as he drunkenly muttered that your taste in men was terrible, realizing who Leon was to you, to which Leon rolled his eyes, his patience running out, and in the next seconds, without hesitation, he delivered a powerful blow, landing it right in bastard's face.

The man staggered back, his cheek instantly red and swollen, and all his courage was washed away as if by water, because he stood stunned by the sudden blow.

Leon hurriedly paid his tab at the bar, his jaw clenched into a thin line as he gently took your hand and led you outside, walking quickly in tense silence through the cool of the street, evaporating all the alcohol and built up stress.

As soon as you reached the car, Leon stopped, his grip on your hand gently loosening and he turned to you, his stormy expression giving way to concern and regret, his calloused hands cupping your cheeks as an apology fell from his lips — «I'm sorry i wasn't there in the first place, i should have been»

You couldn't help but let out a sudden giggle, either from the alcohol or his sudden sensuality, but you were still overcome with a warm feeling of affection — «Leon, it's okay, you arrived just in time, and this blow will surely be remembered by this guy»

Leon's surprise showed in his eyes, your easy acceptance of the situation pleasantly surprising him as his lips curved into a reluctant smile and he leaned down, gently kissing your lips before wrapping his arms around you in a protective embrace.

The tension of the night began to melt away in the warmth of his presence.

Pulling back, you looked at Leon, your eyes is a lake full of love and gratitude for his presence and protection, his solid shoulder — «Thank you for always taking care of me, Leon»

He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his fingers were gentle and affectionate despite the usual texture and hardness of the skin — «My job is to protect you, love, and i'll always be there when you need me»

With a shared smile, the two of you got into the car, letting the warm interior envelop you in its calmness to everything outside as Leon started the engine and you headed home, leaving behind the dimly lit bar and the unpleasant meeting, replacing it with much more pleasant memories while Leon's free hand reverently clutched your thigh, drawing patterns on it while driving along the long streets.

taglist: @roseglazedlens, @scar-crossedlvrs, @daydreamrot, @valsthearecs, @kennedyswhore-old dm me if you want to be tagged in my works or open my taglist

[stoutguts]

First time posting something like this so I hope people will like it! 👉👈

Gaming (💀🧼)

chock full my own personal HCs and ideas, mostly unhinged rambling about Ghoap if they were into video games/gaming habits because brainworms and rot

Ghost is a complete fucking nerd, he's autistically obsessed with DND, Skyrim, Bloodborne, Dark Souls, etc. Their eyes will light up whenever someone asks him about these games/interests in particular, and whenever they get the chance to geek out and talk about them/it he will of course talk your ear off about it. Soap always listening to it's nerdy rants with equal enthusiasm, as he just loves to hear Simon talk no matter what it’s about, but also because he’s always so eager to learn. Ghost also occasionally likes to play fifa or rocket league or something along those lines, but it gets major game rage when it plays those games because he sucks ass at it. Also, they've probably got like 2,500+ hours in Skyrim alone. Even if sports related games aren’t their strong suit, he’s really good at other games, with being so fucking sweaty when it comes to Bloodborne, Skyrim, Dark Souls, etc, it's no surprise that it's like god-tier at it. He's very good at rhythm games, but particularly they enjoy Guitar Hero and Project Diva and has perfected all songs across multiple games on maximum or higher difficulties. It also positively dominates on games like Overwatch (they are a Diva/Moira main), Super Smash Bros. (he's a Donkey Kong/Bowser main), and practically any first person shooter with online play. When it comes to first person shooters, they strictly play with other players and doesn't care about the campaign/story mode. Every now and then it'll get Johnny to join them for a round of DND or play Skyrim with him, and even though Soap isn’t nearly as experienced in the game as Ghost is, they still both have a lot of fun. Soap listening to Simon’s autistic rants pays off in some instances, like when faced with different enemies or characters he can name them or knows what they do, or he can even recall certain lore that's interesting to him. (Soap being hella ADHD, and even though he tries his best to listen he struggles with processing information, (APD gang), and often has people repeat themselves, or he just totally forgets stuff unless he's makes it a point to commit it to memory).

Soap is the complete opposite from Ghost he’s really not that much of a gamer at all, he's certainly not any good at most competitive-based games anyhow. He's into the more casual or feel good kind of games, like Animal Crossing, Stardew Valley, Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons, or any cozy life simulator type game—he even plays the Sims every once in a while. Where he’s virtually created his ideal life with Simon, a nice two story house, a couple of kids running around (two daughters).—Has meticulously outfitted and created him and Simon to be as accurate to real life as possible, as well as their two kids (Scarlett and Bonnie), (or at least what he would imagine them to look like). Even though, he absolutely loves what the two have, a man can dream. He has Ghost give their own input on the little life that he’s built for them in the Sims, and Simon will gladly give suggestions and tell him what to do with certain things, whether it’s their house, pets, clothes/accessories, etc. Johnny also always asks for name suggestions when it comes to new pets or sims. Soap has like at least 5000+ hours in Animal Crossing, on New Leaf, New Horizons, and City Folk each. With his island/towns completely decked out and decorated—with everything you can possibly think of unlocked. He’ll whip up Animal Crossing in order to destress at the end of the day, and always makes sure to login and do his daily tasks and chores on all three games (or at least when he can). He'll even take his 3DS with him on long missions (if he's able to), and if he has the time and is not too exhausted he'll play New Leaf for a bit before going to sleep. He's 100%'d Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons and Stardew Valley, his farms being as fancy as can be, though he doesn't play them nearly as much.—He'll only play for a little while before getting off. In a similar vein, Ghost will play Animal Crossing or Stardew Valley with Soap (as Johnny’s created multiple profiles across all games for them so that they can play together) every now and then. Ghost always half-jokes that he’s gonna kill Soap’s spouse in Stardew, (Harvey, because in Johnny’s eyes he’s the bachelor that looks the most like Simon), getting all jealous and possessive, and Soap thinks it’s adorable. Ghost feels like a kid again when he’s playing Animal Crossing. It's favorite villagers/characters being Stitches and Celeste, Stitches because it reminds them of an old beloved teddy bear he had as a child, and Celeste because she's adorable and because making constellations is their favorite thing to do in City Folk, plus, the zodiac themed furniture is their favorite furniture set in New Horizons. Johnny being particularly fond of Shep, and CJ/Flick, because Shep reminds him of one of his childhood dogs growing up (an Old English Sheepdog named Mack), and CJ and Flick because they remind him of him and Simon.

Another game the two will play together is Wii Sports or Wii Sports Resort. Johnny and Simon are both incredibly competitive, and will talk shit to one another during the entirety of a game—start to finish. They’ve gotten into petty spats over wounded pride or some “bullshit play”/“cheating”.

It always seems to slip Simon’s mind to put on the fucking wrist strap for the Wii remote before they start playing, so they've chucked it full force into the TV on multiple occasions. Shattering it or severely damaging it, because he’s too fucking strong for it's own good. 💀 Johnny will sometimes yell at them, and is naturally always upset, because most of the time when it happens he has to go out and buy a brand new TV, which is expensive.

"Si, baby, I love you, but please remember to put on your bloody wrist strap", he sighs.

But Soap despite his frustration can't stay mad at it for long, and forgives him shortly afterwards.

"I know ye didn't mean to", he feels horrible, because he knows that Ghost has a lot discomfort and even trauma when it comes to people yelling or screaming at them. Johnny always tries his best not to raise his voice at it, though sometimes it just comes out.

Simon starts crying, which makes Soap feel even worse and like a total dick. Though Ghost understands that sometimes Johnny can't help but raise his voice, it still triggers them. Soap goes to them almost immediately and takes him to the couch, wrapping his arms around it in a tight, but warm embrace. He holds Simon and tries his best to comfort them, whispering sweet words into his ear and telling them everything they need to hear in the moment—

“I’m not mad or anything, you know I could never stay mad at you mo chirdhe.”

“The last thing I’d ever want to do would be to hurt you, I’m so so sorry.”

“I love you more than anything, I’d give you the world and then some if I could.”

Ghost eventually calms down, its face still flushed and wet with tears. He kisses Johnny. Oh so, passionately.

“Then why don’t you prove just how much you love me?”, they say with a mischievous glint in their eyes.

“There’s nothing I’d want to do more, my sweet”, Soap chuckles. [END]

...

Oh yeah, also Johnny and Simon's favorite games to play together in Wii Sports and Wii Sports Resort respectively are golf (because they're both white as hell), and swordplay (because it's more violent and action-packed compared to the other games). Soap's favorite sports to play on his own on Wii Sports/Wii Sports Resort are baseball and archery, while Ghost likes boxing and basketball.

[lainalit]

"We were born sick." You heard them say it

A acotar canon complied fanfic about a common hewn city family.

I posted a one shot that I originally did for my headcanon of a darkbringer going home to his family when he was being denied purchasing toys and sweats from velaris shopowners, just like Rhysand ordered them to do.

After that, the OC's that I created for it wouldn't leave my mind, so I plan to write one shots (probably non-linear) for them.

You find both first parts on ao3 and the second chapter under the cut their his daughter gets her treats.

The small faelights adorned the walls and tables, enveloping the Maher family's living room in a warm, dim glow. The rich aroma of butter and sugar wafted through the air, enhancing the cozy atmosphere.

Seated in a rocking chair by the hearth, Enid threaded a needle through the soft, dyed pink fabric of an almost-finished teddy bear for her daughter, her hands moving with quick steady precision. As she worked, she hummed a gentle tune from an old lullaby her mother used to sing to her—a lullaby she now sings to her daughter whenever nightmares stirred her little one from sleep.

Her husband, Cadell, and their daughter Trina were visiting Nain Ada—the female who took Cadell in after his mother passed away—allowing Enid to complete Trina's gift without needing to worry of looking after her and the fear of Trina discovering the presents too soon.

Just one of the many things Enid loves about her husband; he never takes her homemaking tasks for granted and devotes every moment of his day to their daughter after returning from his Darkbringer duties.

She sighed softly, redirecting her attention to the small pink teddy bear as she completed the final stitch on its back. She examined the meticulous work she had devoted nearly a week to while Trina was at school.

Sometimes, she could still hear her great-grandmother’s voice admonishing her that the stitching wasn’t perfect and that she would need to start all over again since only a flawless stitch could make a flawless wife. What nonsense.

She placed the teddy gently on the rocking chair and walked over to the kitchen island, where the rounded butterscotch candies cooled off.

Taking one, she blew on it and carefully bit off a small piece. As she savored the sweet flavor, she closed her eyes, recalling how her Cousin Kenna, from whom she had obtained the recipe, would make these treats for her birthday when she was young—one of the few cherished memories.

Enid carefully packed the butterscotch’s and the teddy into the bag that Cadell had brought back from his visit to Velaris, a bag that had returned empty after he was denied the very same things she had worked so hard to create now.

As she closed the bag, she struggled to quell her frustration over the situation and the injustice of it all.

She’s fed up with Keir and his elitist friends dictating what the impoverished Fae can and cannot do within the city walls. She seethes at the way the High Lord treats every citizen of her home like a criminal, all while his own hands remain far from innocent.

 But what infuriates her the most is Morrigan, whom the common folk of Hewn City derisively called the 'Red Traitor.' Enid resents how Morrigan abandoned the females, the younglings, and all the vulnerable souls once she secured her own freedom and dreams, never pausing to consider those still trapped within the dark mountain walls yearning for the same.

But she pushed those thoughts aside as she entered her daughter’s room and placed the bag of gifts on the bed. She chose to focus on her blessings rather than what she lacked.

________________

Enid stood in the warm glow of the kitchen, the faint scent of vanilla and butter still lingering in the air as she wiped the dark countertop clean.

The rhythmic sound of her cloth against the surface was soothing, a welcome reprieve in the otherwise peaceful afternoon. Just as she finished, she heard the unmistakable thud of heavy boots on their front door, stirring a flutter of excitement in her chest.

The door creaked open, and there was Cadell, his broad silhouette framed against the fading light, with Trina nestled in his arms, her small form draped against him like a sleeping flower sprite from one of her picture books.

“Wake up, princess! We are home,” Cadell announced with a playful lilt, gently jostling her.

 Trina stirred, a sleepy grumble escaping her lips as she buried her face deeper into her father’s neck, unwilling to wake fully just yet.

With quick strides, Enid closed the distance, her heart warm at the sight of her husband and daughter. Cadell leans down, his lips find his wife's forehead in the customary kiss he lovingly bestows upon her each time he comes home.

“Did you have a good time by Nain Ada?” Enid asked, her smile teasing as she tipped her head back to meet his gaze, her hazel eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Cadell chuckled, his dark brown eyes shimmering with contentment.

"If by that you mean her feeding us until we’re ready to burst and her grumpy self finding fault with everything and everyone, then yes,“ he replied, a note of affection lacing his words as he adjusted his hold on their daughter.

Enid quirked a brow, a smile tugging at her lips. “And you, my sweetling?”

Her daughter, still half-asleep, merely nodded her head against her father's shoulder, an adorable little gesture that made Enid’s heart swell.

“Well, it seems like our princess wants to sleep instead of meeting Lucy’s new friend?” she said, glancing from her husband to her daughter.

Trina lifted her head slightly, her big hazelnut eyes blinking up at her mother with a hint of curiosity.

“New friend?” she murmured, the remnants of sleep still clinging to her words.

"Yes, they arrived just before you and went directly to your room," Enid replied, gently tucking a stray of Trina’s dark hair behind her ear, revealing her small features that already resemble her husband , though he would insist she looked much more like her.

With a sudden burst of energy, Trina wiggled in her father’s arms, determination flashing in her sleepy eyes.

“Daddy, let me down!” she demanded, her voice tinged with the audacity of a youngling sure of her own authority.

Cadell chuckled lightly, his deep laughter resonating in their living room.

“Okay, okay, but what do we say first?” he asked, lowering her slightly, giving her the room to wiggle free.

Trina beamed up at him before leaning in, planting a big, warm kiss on his cheek.

“Pretty please!” she chimed.

With a laugh, he set her down entirely, watching as she dashed off towards her room, her tiny feet pattering against the stone floor in a flurry of excitement.

Just as Enid was about to head towards Trina’s room, Cadell caught her wrist with a firm yet tender grasp, turning her gently but decisively to face him.

“Wha—” she began, before she could fully voice her question, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a long, passionate kiss that seemed to stop time itself.

When he finally pulled away, his dark eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.

“Did I tell you how incredible you are?” he breathed, his voice low and filled with admiration.

She took a moment to catch her breath, her heart racing from both the unexpected kiss and the weight of his words.

“No, that’s the first time you’ve ever told me that,” she teased, a playful glint in her eyes as she swatted his shoulder lightly.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her pointy ear as he whispered, “Well, if that’s the case, it seems I need to show my wife tonight just how incredible she is.”

A shiver of excitement and anticipation danced down her spine at his words, a heady mix of emotions blooming within her. But before she could form a reply, a sharp scream pierced the air from her daughter’s room, shattering the intimate moment.

In an instant, her husband’s demeanor shifted from tender to alert; he released her and sprinted the few meters to their daughter’s room, his concern palpable. She was right behind him, her heart still pounding—not just from the kiss, but from the sudden urgency that had replaced their tender exchange.

_______________

In Trina’s room, the atmosphere was electric with joy.

Enid stepped inside to find her daughter tightly clutching the pink teddy, bouncing up and down in sheer delight. The moment stirred something deep within her, an echo of uncontained happiness.

“By the Mother, don’t scare your old father like that, Trina!” Cadell exclaimed, his hand resting dramatically on his heart as if he were about to swoon.

Enid couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his remarks. Both in their seventies, they were seen as practically youthful by high fae standards, especially when compared to Ada, who was over seven hundred years old.

Trina stopped her bouncy dance and held the pink teddy high above her head.

 “I’m sorry, Daddy! But look at Lucy’s and Mr. Starfall’s new best friend!” She stretched her tiny arms up toward him, enthusiasm radiating from her face.

Cadell knelt down to her level, his gaze softening with love as he looked at the stuffed animal she clutched in her tiny hands.

"I see, princess. They look quite lovely," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Without warning, Trina launched herself into his arms, wrapping her limbs around him with all her might.

"Thank you, Daddy!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with pure, unfiltered joy.

Cadell chuckled, a deep, warm sound that filled the room, hugging her back with equal fervor before loosening his embrace just enough to look into her bright, eager eyes.

 "You’re welcome, sweetheart, but I didn’t do anything. It was all your mama’s work."

Enid, standing nearby, suppressed a smile, knowing full well that her husband had played his part as well. He had helped with the cutting and dyeing of the fabric, though she chose not to mention it now.

She’d will remind him later by mischievously depriving him of his favorite indulgence in bed, so that he wouldn’t always be so self-effacing.

Trina glanced over at her, breaking free from her father's embrace, and before she could topple into her mother’s legs, Enid bent down to catch her, pulling her into a long, heartfelt hug.

"Thank you, Mommy! I love you so much," Trina said with a soft voice, her small arms squeezing with all the strength she could muster.

"I love you too, my sweetling," Enid murmured, feeling the beginning of unshed tears prickling at her eyes.

As they slowly parted, Enid asked gently, "So, what’s the name of your new friend?"

Trina looked thoughtfully from her mother to her father, then down at the plushie in her hands.

"I think…I’ll name him Thessie." A big smile spread across her face.

"Why that, sweetheart?" Cadell asked, his tone laced with curiosity.

Trina gazed down at Thessie, cradling it in her small hands.

“His pink reminds me of the pictures from the Dawn Court in my schoolbooks, and the High Lord is Thesan, so Thessie!”

There was a brief silence as they all absorbed the weight of her words. Each of them understood, in their own way, that they would likely never see the breathtaking views of the Dawn Court at sunset.

Breaking the silence, Enid chimed in with a soft, nurturing voice, "What a lovely name, sweetie. And since Lord Thesan wields healing powers, your Thessie will undoubtedly possess some of that magic as well."

Her daughter's warm eyes widened, a spark of wonder igniting within them. "Do you really think so?"

Enid smiled brightly as she answered, “Of course! Just like Mr. Starfall has star powers, or Lucy has fire powers.”

Trina hugged Thessie tightly and gave the bear a kiss on its head. With an ecstatic look, she made her way over to her dressing drawer, where Mr. Starfall and Lucy awaited the arrival of their new friend.

As the moment unfolded, Cadell grasped Enid’s hand, every bit of warmth radiating from his calloused grip. His gaze was drifting to his daughter's bed, where the candy bag poked out from beneath the larger bag.

“Princess, look what I’ve found!” he said, retrieving the sweets and waving them teasingly.

"Daddy, my caramel bonbons!" Trina squealed, darting across the small room in an eager attempt of trying to seize the candies out of her father’s hand.

"Wait a minute, the oldest gets to go first!" Cadell declared, holding the bag just out of reach, a playful glint in his eye.

"That's not true, Daddy! The youngest gets to go first!" Trina exclaimed, hopping up and down on her feet, eager to get her hands on the sweat treats.

With a mischievous smile, Cadell raised an eyebrow at her.

 "If that’s so, why doesn’t the youngest try to catch her old father?" And with that, he released his wife's hand and dashed out of the room, laughter bubbling from his lips.

"Daddy, you cheated!" Trina yelled, her laughter ringing out as she chased after him, her little legs moving as fast as they could.

Standing in the doorway, Enid listens to the joyful peals of laughter reverberating around their Alcove, wrapping every corner in a cocoon of blissful love. A peaceful smile graced her lips.

Despite not having the opulent wealth of gems and gold that Prythian aristocrats possess, she felt immeasurably wealthy in that moment, as she watched, her greatest treasure right in front of her, scuttling through their home in a whirlwind of laughter.

[dsimsdecades]

For @plumbob-pudding's Henford Ladies College

Aspiration: Best Selling Author

Traits: Bookworm, Romantic

Margaret Walker, an 18-year-old dreamer from Harlem, is on the brink of an exhilarating new phase. Endowed with a sharp intellect and a deeply romantic soul, she often seeks solace and inspiration in the pages of her notebooks. The only child of a charming jazz vocalist and club proprietor, Margaret was nurtured amid jazz's vibrant beats and captivating narratives, which profoundly influenced her creative writing.

Her father's club, a haven pulsating with soulful melodies and the stories of jazz legends, has always been her greatest muse. Despite the demands of managing the club, her father has unwaveringly supported her dreams, particularly after her mother's early departure. Understanding her potential to become a significant storyteller, he has vowed to fund her education at Henford Ladies College in England.

Filled with excitement and apprehension, Margaret prepares to leave the familiar comfort of her neighborhood library—her long-time refuge where she refined her literary skills—for the prestigious corridors of Henford Ladies College. Carrying the lessons of her Harlem upbringing and the rich cultural experiences from her father's club, she steps forward into her future.

How will her life's vibrant, eclectic influences in Harlem and the immersive jazz environment shape her voice as a writer abroad?

Download under the cut

Packs Used: Growing Together, Cottage Living, Discover University, Island Living, Get Famous, Seasons, City Living, Get Together, Get to Work, Dreamhome Decorator, Paranormal Stuff, Vintage Glamour and Simtimates Collection

CC used: Skin (Non-default) and Eyelashes

Download

[tafferling]

Book Release: Aphelion, The City of a Billion Stolen Souls

Aphelion is a love letter. In incomplete one at that, which is still being written as I make my way through the series. But as each of its seasons is finished, a book gets released! And here we are! My first official 'omg I published something' novel: Aphelion, The City of a Billion Stolen Souls

If you like science-fantasy with soul-harnessing magic and tech, a cyberpunk (or aetherpunk, those two are having fisticuffs) flair, and a slow burn simmering away in the middle of a (mysterious) zombie apocalypse, then Aphelion may just be right for your bookshelf. Literally, because you can buy all of book one's 531 pages in gorgeous print!

What's in it?

In a world where tech runs off the concept of one's soul and where dragons steady cosmic scales, heroes are shaped in the shadow of an ancient grudge. Horizon's Crown was an Earther triumph; a stage at the frontier of the settled systems, a city of hope and dreams and infinite potential. Now, under the watchful eye of its orbital island, it straddles the line between dead and dying; a city of nightmares and endless sorrow. Varrett Vild Vickers belongs into a pilot's chair. He's meant to dodge asteroids, to race dragons, not chase credits so he can pay rent while HC's major demographic clicks its teeth at him and tries to eat his face off. But it's fine. Really. He copes. Or that's what he tells himself, all the way until a woman falls from the sky and turns his already upside-down life very sharply sideways. Armed with nothing but her worst-kept secret and a ledger of lies, Sophya Soulwright tricks her way into Horizon's Crown, looking for not only her sister, but for redemption and a meaning to a life she’s never held dear.  What she finds instead is a city trying its hardest to live, and a man who courts death every step of the way. He's infuriating, tireless, and after a glitch binds their souls together, he is now stuck with her. 

Don't want this chunky darling on your shelf and prefer to read it digitally? Dontchu worry, Taff has you covered. I release Aphelion as a free-to-read web serial, both on Campfire (where you can tip me if you like to get world building extras) and Archive of Our Own. 'cause like I said; Aphelion is a love letter. I just want to write it and share it.

But that doesn't mean I don't want to hear from you if you choose to give it a chance.

Where to find Aphelion:

On Amazon (531 pages, paperback).

On Goodreads (oh gosh I have an author profile there now).

On Campfire Explore (where, if you choose to tip, you may feel the sudden sensation of an ethereal cat slinking around your ankles in appreciation).

And on Archive Of Our Own (where it all started).

BIG BIG BIG thanks to @hermit-writes for her amazing typesetting skills (and book photography) and of course @drawinglinestoconstellations for the cover and interior art.

[strawheart-pirate]

Sabotage

Trafalgar Law x gn!Reader

December 17th 2023 Words: 1281 CW: SFW / fluff / no/pre relationship / some swearing / an annoyed captain

You were anchored on an island where some sort of winter festival was taking place, and you were eager to skate around the ice rink. Unfortunately, your captain wasn't in the mood for any fun... was he?

You walked back to the Polar Tang, which was anchored in the harbor, your arms full of groceries. Your captain walked beside you, also packed, and you noticed that he relaxed more and more as you got closer to the Tang. He had been in a bad mood since you entered the city because it was so crowded. There was a winter festival on the island and the city was teeming with people. The crew and you were excited and you talked to Shachi, Ikkaku and Hakkugan about maybe staying a day and joining the festivities. You had seen that there was even an ice rink, and you would die just to strap on some skates and take a few laps. But your dreams and wishes came to a quick end, because yes... unfortunately, you knew your captain better. The moment you asked him to stay for the night to enjoy the party, his mood took a turn for the worse and the death stare he gave you said it all. He ordered the crew to replenish their supplies as quickly as possible so they could all leave. So, with a heavy heart and a wistful look, you bid farewell to the festivities and the ice rink with every step you took toward the Tang.

Just as you're putting everything away in the pantry, you hear a loud crash and Shachi yelled from the deck. "What the fuck, Penguin! You ran in the direction of the shouting and saw a stuck Penguin. A plank of the deck had broken when he stepped on it, and now he was half stuck in the submarine. You giggled at the sight, but stopped immediately when your captain approached the mess, a scowl on his face as usual.

"You're going to fix this..." he growled through clenched teeth at Penguin. "And you help him, no one else." He pointed at Shachi.

Shachi was tempted to disagree, but he didn't dare say anything back. Instead, he glared at Penguin, ‘grateful’ for the extra work.

"We probably won't leave the harbor tonight, but...if I catch anyone ashore, I'll make them help fix this mess." Law ordered in a deep, stern voice and then went to his quarters.

The crew dispersed with mixed feelings, and you helped Shachi get Penguin out of the hole. The damage was much worse than a broken plank. You could even see inside the ship through the hole, and metal, wood, and even pipes needed repairing. You looked at the boys with pity before you said goodbye. Better follow captain’s orders and not upset him any more...

Later that night, you lay on your bed and looked out your window. The constant hammering of Shachi and Penguin echoed through the Tang as you gazed longingly at the island. The lights of the Winter Festival still looked enchanting, and you still carried a heavy heart for missing the opportunity to skate on the ice. Suddenly, you saw fireworks in the distance and pressed your nose to the window. It was a beautiful sight, and a small smile crept across your face. Even if you couldn't enjoy the activities, you could still enjoy the fireworks. You were about to change your clothes and go to bed when the blue light of your Captain's Devil Fruit powers filled the room.

What's he up to now? You asked yourself, and a second later you were standing in a side street in the middle of the city, your captain beside you. You looked at him, confused.

"Here, put this on," Law said, handing you a jacket. His gaze was hard and neutral, giving nothing away as to what he was up to.

"Um... thanks." you said and put the jacket on before you started to shiver. It was freezing cold and dark, not a soul to be seen on the streets as the festival was over for the day. "Why are we here?"

"I want to show you something, let's go." Law said in a neutral voice, showing no emotion, and started walking.

You followed him closely, curious what he was up to. "I thought no one was allowed to go ashore?"

"No one but us."

It sounded like there was a slight playfulness in his voice, but you weren't sure, so you decided not to pay any further attention. It's better not to annoy the captain again. It was always like dancing on a razor's edge with him. Especially when you couldn't read his eyes because he walked ahead of you.

You followed him through dark, narrow corridors, wondering where he was going. With his powers, he could easily get you anywhere on the island, and yet here you were, walking for at least half an hour. You knew that his powers always took their toll on his stamina, but this walk was no better...

Just as you were about to ask again, Law stopped and you almost bumped into him.

"Close your eyes," he ordered, and you obeyed. You were nervous, your heart beating a little faster when he put his hand on your shoulder. "Room. Shambles." You felt the sudden change in atmosphere and the slight dizziness that occurred every time he teleported you. Thanks to his grip, you didn't lose your balance.

"Now open your eyes." He said softly, his cold and stern voice gone.

You frowned at the change in his voice and blinked, opening your eyes to see the ice rink. It was dimly lit and there was no one in sight. "Did we just break into the rink?"

Law just grinned and handed you a pair of skates.

Although it was rare for you to see your captain smile, your attention was immediately focused on the skates. A beaming smile spread across your face and you quickly put on your skates. Your heart did a backflip because you were so happy to be able to skate a few laps. You didn't know how your captain knew or why he was doing this, but you were overjoyed and didn't question it. You wanted to enjoy this opportunity to the fullest. After putting on your skates, you stepped onto the ice and a familiar feeling shot through your veins as you glided smoothly across the ice. You turned and watched as Law stepped onto the ice. Law took careful steps, his hands gripping the boards with a firm grip, and you had to stifle a laugh.

"Have you ever skated before?" you ask Law, who is watching you from the edge of the rink, still gripping the board tightly.

"No." He replied with a growl, and you glide over to him with gentle tugs.

"Give me your hand, Captain. I can help you." You smiled at him and held out your hand.

"I can do it myself." He growled and pushed himself away from the board. He made it a short distance until his feet drifted apart and he twisted his arms to keep his balance and not fall over.

Just before his feet slipped away, you caught him under the arms and lifted him up before he could fall. "Gotcha. Still don't need any help?"

He turned away, hiding his flushed cheeks in the high collar of his coat. Instead of an answer, he grabbed your hand, so you slowly slid forward, a smile on your face as he copied your movement. By the time the two of you had completed a full lap, Law was much more confident on his skates.

"Thank you." He said quietly, almost in a whisper.

"Sure thing, Captain." You said, smiling. Just as you were about to withdraw your hand, his grip tightened.

"Call me Law."

All content unless otherwise stated belongs to: ©strawheart-pirate. Please do not copy / modify / translate / repost my writing, banners or art on other platforms. Comments, reblogs or likes are highly appreciated! Snowflake banner by ©firefly-graphics

[fungalittleweirdo]

ROTTMNT 60s AU !!!

UHHHH JUST WANTED TO PUT THIS OUT THERE WHILE I'M STUCK IN DENIAL ABOUT MY WRITER'S BLOCK

raph

please this man has SOUL

he sings in clubs in new york, he has a record coming out in '67 with his band Raphael and The Digg

his brothers didn't feel like joining the band, so it's up to some talented musician girls he met without a trained main vocalist (digg, with prairie dog, honey badger, and groundhog)

they're super popular in harlem and they make it to charts

raph meets other motown records signees and they always find he's the gentlest of giants

he and his band DESERVES a grammy

leo

he's a surfer !!!

he loves competing in surfing tournaments in long island

the boy's a legend, other surfers think he's a fish at first

if he didn't have separation anxiety for his brothers (a post-kraang headcanon) he would have gone to the west coast where the real competitions are (they never feel like leaving new york for very long)

for now he's happy surfing the coast of long island

he loves when todd surfs with him, his favourite part is the lemonade he gets afterwards

donnie

donatello is OBSESSED with the space race

he managed to hack nasa for rocket blueprints

he got caught and they asked him if he was a communist but there was no found evidence that proved he was so he was let go and his name was cleared

he managed to improve the blueprints he got his hands on and built more efficient rockets, then he used computing tech to make his very own battleshell

he has a super-powered telescope he nicknamed shelldon

donnie predicted the states would win the space race in 1965 because it had something to do with the war, i myself don't know how he used that data point to draw a conclusion

mikey

mikey is such a hippie he has mugshots of his charming smiling face framed to prove it

very anti-war, very pro-civil rights movement, pro-dope and lowkey anti-united states government

he was at the stonewall riots !!!!!

he not only fought for human civil rights, but for mutants too, so that he and his brothers could be acknowledged as citizens

humans turned into mutants are already citizens, but the mistreatment they get is unfair and mikey chose to be a leading pioneer for mutant rights

leo (hesitantly) opened portals for mikey in the south so that he could stand with people of colour in their trying times

misc notes !!

lou jitsu was popular in golden age hollywood, he won many accolades for his films until big mama made it look like he was signed to stay in the battle nexus

jupiter jim films are actually westerns, his name is junebug jim instead

big mama is a big mafia boss woman regardless of the era she's in, though her battle nexus is televised for all ages

instead of becoming criminals, mutants follow mikey's lead protesting for mutant/yokai rights and new york is the first city to acknowledge it

the turtles' beach parties are insane, there's always some people other than the siblings lingering around at midnight

april is the best reporter out there, she reports on the turtles' exploits all the time and she makes mad BANK over it (successful 60s black woman slay)

the foot clan is a cult a lot like the manson family, the turtles hate their guts

baron draxum does the same thing he always did, brood in his lab trying to destroy the humans (that is until mikey gets through to him)

sr. hueso's run of the mill pizza is still the turtles' favourite pizza spot, though the establishment is beachside because he's on good terms with his brother, who mainly does imports

casey jr. is a star hockey player, he also avoids the draft because he's from the future, so the government doesn't have his records

but cass protests against the war with mikey whenever she can, she's also anti-war

donnie also managed to be the first mutant on the moon by his own means, it's been a childhood dream since he saw laika's launch in sputnik 2

aight that's all i have for now, i hope you enjoyed !!

[lindszeppelin]

DIRTY DEEDS [pt. 1]

Pairing: Austin Butler x Fem!Reader

Prompt: 1970s New York. Austin is tightly wound in the Italian Mafia. Living a life of crime has it's drawbacks. Austin and his wife figure out whether enjoying the perks of being the hottest couple in the big apple with high roller power is worth their lives.

Rating: Mature. 18+.

Word Count: 13.5k

Warnings: Violence, physical assault, blood, smut, oral (m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), swearing, some 70s slang/verbiage, drinking, corruption

The streets of New York City are dangerous to navigate for the uninitiated. It's not enough to be savvy with book smarts - that will only get you so far in life. Try walking down 5th Avenue at night. Even if you're the smartest person in the world who thinks they know everything, you're a damn fool. Best case scenario is you're gonna get mugged within an inch of your life, and the robbers will leave you a bloody pulp on the sidewalk like yesterday's trash. One has to be wise to the dealings of the streets. It's a dog eat dog world, and only the toughest, thick-skinned individuals can survive the Big Apple unphased.

For Austin Butler, a life of brazen crime was not one that he envisioned for himself. It seemed like he was thrust into quick sand, and before he knew which way was up it was too late. Austin was no regular Joe-Schmoe however. He was well aware of the goings on around New York City. As an actor who's climbing the social ladder and intertwining himself into the higher echelons of society, he's learned a thing or two about keeping your mouth shut and never fucking with the wrong people.

But Austin is one of the lucky ones. At least to any outsider. He came from a good, loving family who supported his dreams. While money didn't grow on trees, he was well off than most people. His parents raised him on the value of a dollar and treating others with respect. Plus, he knew what it was like to go hungry. Ever the gentle soul, he was drawn to helping the less fortunate. And New York City's growing homeless population was the perfect breeding ground for those with dastardly schemes to sink their teeth into the ripe flesh and feed.

It's no secret that the Italian community is thriving and strong, becoming the backbone of the state's culture. You can't walk down the street without seeing about three Italian restaurants, a deli serving the freshest meats, and a pizzeria selling hot pies like it's going out of style. But before New York City became rife with bigshots with bloated pockets full of hundred dollar bills wrapped in rubberbands, poor immigrant families of times yonder sailed the seas to Ellis Island. Brooklyn became a home away from home for these wandering souls. Little Italy was just a small slice of the Bronx, but everybody knew everyone's business.

One of these immigrant families ruled the city with an iron fist, and they have been for generations. The thoroughbred Sicilians named the Tenaglia's reigned supreme, offering those in need of assistance with whatever they asked for. But of course, it always came with a price. The poorest of neighbors to the high ranking officials of the city like the police were in the back pockets of the Tenaglia's. You name it - lawyers, bankers, real estate brokers, doctors and others were on bended knee to the Tenaglia's - especially to the Godfather, Don Antonio Tenaglia. And nobody batted an eyelash. It's a funny thing what money can do to a person's morale.

Austin's acting career led him to the Big Apple mostly for gigs and also for charity work on the side. It was here that he met someone that would alter the course of his life. Pellegrino Tenaglia was the youngest son of Antonio, and often considered the best looking Tenaglia - his long dark locks are always tucked nicely behind his ears, and his dark hazel eyes shine gorgeously off his olive oil tanned skin. If he wasn't knee deep in his father's business he would probably make it big as a model or movie star. Antonio made sure all his sons latched onto some kind of career where they could have a foothold in all different areas of the city. Pellegrino is a nice boy and dutifully respects his father. So he took up looking after some of the charities in the poor neighborhoods. While it's not the life that Pellegrino wanted for himself, who was he to go against the wishes of his iron fisted family? As the baby of the bunch he knew it was almost impossible for him to get a word in edgewise before he gets overshadowed by his older brothers who think they know better. He figured that while he was put into this situation, he might as well try to do some actual good for the community he was born and raised in. This was where his path with Austin would collide.

While it might seem like an unlikely match, Austin and Pellegrino bonded naturally over their love of helping the less fortunate. They were also close in age with Austin being a year older than him at 31. They struck up a friendship rather quickly, and pretty soon the laidback Tenaglia son showed Austin around to some local spots. While Pellegrino is a party animal, he likes to schmooze and have a good time. He can make quick friends with strangers in only minutes with a flash of his crooked smile and effortless charm.

Nightlife in the city was unmatched. Studio 54 was the hottest dance club to ever grace the nation - anyone who's anyone goes there to rock to the pumping music and get their picture taken for publicity. Austin was a shy man, so he doesn't get out to dance that much. But spending time with Pellegrino, who goes by Green, allowed the genteel blonde to open up more.

"You gotta get out and embrace life a little, man. I know you don't wanna be cooped up in a soup kitchen all damn day. Lemme show you the ropes." Green would say cheerily, his thick Bronx accent rolling off his tongue.

One of these particular evenings, the line at Studio 54 was reaching far around a couple of blocks. While Green could probably sweet talk the bouncers with a knowing wink and the utterance of his last name, he got the better idea to take Austin to a hole in the wall club that most people don't know about. "It's fucking awesome in here. You're gonna love it." Green would say, pushing Austin along with a firm but friendly hand on his back. Austin on the other hand is sweating bullets.

One last turn of a corner and there they were, at their destination. Green held the door of the club open for Austin and the tall man walked in with his tail tucked between his legs. If you didn't know it, one could assume Austin was on his way to get a stern lecturing from his boss based on how badly he was shaking. He was out of his element completely. But he didn't have time to convince Green to turn around and walk home. Before Austin knew it, he was already thrust to the club's bar and forced down onto an open barstool with a slap on the back from his friend. The bartender nodded to the gentleman and expectantly waited for their orders.

Green spoke up first with his voice, smooth as butter. "A beer for me, please. And what do you want, Butler?" He asked.

Austin cleared his throat and tired his best to adjust quickly to the change in surroundings. "Uh, i'll have a whiskey on the rocks." Austin spoke to the bartender politely. The sharp dressed man in a polyester suit behind the bar went to work on fixing up the men's drinks.

The loud music blaring and the chatty cathy's coming in and out of the club passing by Austin was overwhelming to his senses. He could feel his wallflower demeanor start to creep up on him. He hoped he could curb the anxiety by placing a Marlboro cigarette between his plush lips and flicking his zippo lighter he pulled from his pants pocket, inhaling the cloud of smoke deeply into his lungs before exhaling through his nose.

Green seemed to notice his friend's reservations and leaned his elbow on the counter, facing Austin with his muscular build. "Hey man, no stress. You know I wouldn't take you to a place that wasn't happenin'. Once you get some of that whiskey down your neck I'm sure your feet will lead you to the dance floor." He said, projecting his voice loud enough over the music so Austin could hear.

The shy man put the cigarette between his lips as he ran a hand through his long golden tresses. "We'll see where the night takes us I suppose." He muffled. Two long fingers grasped the cigarette as he took another drag and blew the smoke out the side of his mouth, away from his friend.

This satisfied Green who plastered a wide grin across his face, and patted Austin on the shoulder. Austin was used to getting physically manhandled by Green, it was just how he showed his affection. "Cool, man. That's what I like to hear. Keep an open mind."

Clubs were not a place that Austin frequented very much, if at all. He was the kind of man to enjoy staying home or going out to a nice restaurant. He wouldn't even consider himself a dancer. To think about going out on the dancefloor and moving his feet to the beat of the music has his palms clammy and his stomach doing nauseating flips.

The bartender slid down a freshly cracked Heineken for Green, who thanked the man behind the counter with a nod before wrapping his lips around the bottle and guzzling down the frothy liquid.

Slowly but surely the music started to dwindle down and a sleazy voice slurred over the club's speakers. "Alright ladies and gents, this one goes out to two very foxy mamas out there on the dance floor. You know who you are. Take it away." Said the DJ, a little too close to the microphone. The curly haired mustachioed man behind the booth replaced the vinyl with a fresh one on the turntable, and turned the volume all the way up to eleven.

The sweet melodic strings of Bee Gees "More Than a Woman" rolls on through the club and hit's Austin's ears. Instinctively he rolls his eyes. He's heard the song all over the radio and frankly he despises the tune for how overplayed it is. But tonight will give him a reason to turn his opinion around, he just doesn't know it yet. The party goers all rushed to the dance floor and grabbed a partner. Anyone who had any sense at all would be swaying back and forth to the music, but Austin and Green were onlookers as they observed from their barstools on the second floor of the club.

Austin kept taking drags from his cigarette, watching the way that the beautifully dressed women were spinning around their partners. While he wasn't one to think he had a chance at dancing, he did yearn for a special someone to hold close to him and put the rhythm in his body. While he looked on with a good poker face, on the inside his heart swelled for the chance to take his forever lady on the floor. Maybe one day.

Completely oblivious to the two men, the bartender placed Austin's whiskey on the counter with his own coaster. When Austin heard the glass clink down on the counter top he spun back around and gingerly sipped away at the musky amber liquid. He tapped the excess ashes of his cigarette in a nearby ashtray, taking his eyes off the dancefloor to shyly study the mound of ice in his glass, letting his melancholia posses his thoughts.

Green however was not one to wither away into his drink. He kept his focus entirely on the crowd of dancers, admiring the smooth moves from some of the couples. His foot was tapping on the floor and his head was bobbing along in time to the swing beat. This was his sanctuary away from his family, and he found comfort in the multi-colored lights and sparkling discoball that shined like a beacon touching down from Heaven.

As he scoped out the crowd his eyes narrowed in on two particular women in the center of the floor, dancing together. His deep set eyes widened at the realization. "Holy shit. Unbelievable." He gawked.

"Hmm?" Austin mumbled, quirking his brow at Green.

"My wife is down there. I was wondering where this chick was at all day. Should have known I'd find her on some dancefloor." Green laughed. He took another swig of his beer, his eye never leaving the vision of his wife working wonders on the floor. Tiffany was also a party animal like Green. The two go together like bread and butter. If she wasn't out shopping or at home making the house all perfect for her husband when he gets home, she's out strutting her stuff under a discoball.

"No kidding," Austin chuckled. "She's a dancer?" He asked, bringing his cigarette back to his lips.

Green smirked knowingly. "Only the best dancer in the whole tri-state area as far as i'm concerned." Green leaned back against the bar counter and admired his wife twirling around on the lower level.

Austin blew his smoke out his nose and spun around on his barstool to face the crowded floor once more. "Which one is she?" He asked, trying to scope out the terrain.

Green gestured to the dance floor with the nose of his beer bottle. "You see the one in the middle of the floor with the red hair? Green dress? That's my Tiffany." He smiled proudly, his heart swelling at the thought that the beautiful woman out there dancing to her heart's content was his wife.

Austin squinted his eyes, finally landing on the firey redhead, who stood out among the crowd of blondes and brunettes alike. He nodded absentmindedly to himself that but of course the handsome Tenaglia son would bag a beautiful girl. He caught a glimpse of her satin green dress twirling around her as she spun hand in hand with her dance partner. Tiffany was never alone on the dance floor, her best friend would always accompany her. And tonight was as per usual.

As the men watched Tiffany dance, they could finally see the woman she was dancing with. At first all that they could make out was a mass of fluffy, perfectly bouncy blown out curls. When the woman finally spun around, her visage no longer a mystery, Austin's jaw nearly hit the floor. The mystery woman looked like she had stepped out of a fairytale. Her curves were supple and accented gorgeously with white bellbottom pants and a cropped long sleeve top that was tied at the small of her waist, accenting her cleavage. Did Cupid just come down and strike Austin's heart with an arrow? Because in all his life he swears he's never seen a more sexy creature. He leaned forward on his barstool, trying to get a better look at the woman who set his heart asunder. At any moment he was sure he'd have a heart attack. "Who's that dancing with your wife?" Austin asked perhaps a little too nervously, but he tried to play it off.

Green rose to his feet to get a better view from up above. "Oh that's Y/N. She's like a sister to Tiff. Known her for years. She's a nice girl." Green placed his hands on his hips and turned back on his boot heels to face Austin. Almost immediately he could tell that Austin was somewhere on another planet. He had faraway eyes, and all he heard Pellegrino say was her name. It played on a loop in the blonde's mind, thinking it was the most beautiful string of syllables he's ever heard. He so lost in his own thoughts that he barely noticed his cigarette was burning so fast that it was mostly all ash crumbling in his hands and threatening to make a mess of his nice slacks.

Green smirked at his friend, and raised a quizzical brow. "You want me to introduce you?" He asked, knowing the answer would most likely be yes.

Austin's mouth went dry at the thought. She looked like an angel as she smiled wide, giggling with Tiffany as the women danced around each other. The way her body swayed to the beat of the music sent blood rushing straight to Austin's manhood. He needed to know her. He had to talk to her. But like this? Austin felt like a school boy with a crush on the prettiest girl in the class. He rubbed the sweat from his palms onto his thighs and tried his best to quell the blood rushing straight for his cock. Not that it had been a long time since Austin was with a woman. But there was something about this femme fatal that captured his unique interest. She beguiled him from across the room. For all she knew, she didn't even know of his existence. Not yet anyway.

"Do you think she'd go for me? Honestly." Austin asked Green anxiously.

The charming brunette walked up to Austin and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, shaking him a little to jostle those nagging thoughts out of his mind. "Listen here. You're a single, well-to-do good looking man. She's my wife's best friend, an exceptional dancer, and she's also single. I know she hasn't gone steady with a guy for a long time. She's not a sleaze, she's got brains and a heart. So in my opinion I think you two would hit it off. But we don't know that for sure unless you make a move." Green said confidently. He was right. How could you really know unless you just plunge headfirst into the deep end. Tonight, Austin would be putting his faith in the universe and himself to the test.

Austin placed the barely there cigarette between his lips and inhaled deeply. He nodded as he let the smoke exhale from his nostrils. Austin was accepting his fate. He knew he would either let the anxiety he was feeling ruin his night and have him leaving the club, crawling under the covers never to see the light of day again. Or, he would probably embarrass himself when sweet talking his dreamgirl. Either option is far from acceptable. But, he had to make the effort and try. Otherwise some other guy would scoop her up before he has the chance. This was it. It was now or never.

"Fuck it. You're right." Austin said, self assured in his final decision.

Green took hold of the glass of whiskey Austin was nursing and forced it into the blonde's hands. "Drink up brother, I can tell you haven't done this shit in a while." He laughed.

Austin smiled nervously, a breathy chuckle fogging up the glass. "Is it that obvious?" He asked. Austin took a generous helping. The amber liquid pooled into his mouth and coated his tongue, letting the fragrant musk linger on his palette before swallowing it down in one gulp.

"Unfortunately yes, but I think we can remedy that. Just follow my lead and you'll be good as gold. Capisce?" Green slapped Austin on the back before nudging him off the barstool and up on his feet.

As the Italian man took Austin by the collar of his shirt he felt like the room was spinning. He pushed Austin down the flight of stairs that led from the second floor down below to the open dance floor. Every which way drunk patrons were fumbling around the tall blonde. The flashing colored lights disoriented him as he kept his eagled eyes strictly on his earth angel. His heart was about to leap out of his chest.

As the romantic Bee Gees song came to a fadeout, Tiffany and her friend slowed their movements and paused to catch their breaths. Out of the corner of her brown eyes, Tiffany spotted Pellegrino. The expression on her cherub face was one of surprise and pure delight.

Green's arms fell open to his sides and he beamed out a pearly white smile. "Well well, look at what we have here! My beautiful wife is dancing without me." He spoke playfully.

The cute redhead scrunched her button nose and scurried over to her husband. Tiffany's porcelain complexion balanced out with her eye-catching locks, which she paired with a matching red lipstick. Her satin dress was a divine shade of sage, complimenting her perfectly. She cutely tip toed on the balls of her heeled feet and flung her arms around Pellegrino.

"Fancy seeing you here, handsome!" Said Tiffany excitedly. She had the voice of a princess, and her sunny personality was definitely infectious. She could light up a room. No wonder why Pellegrino married her. The lovebirds hugged each other in a warm embrace for what seemed like eternity. And while Green and Tiffany were wrapped up in each other, Austin couldn't hide the obvious fact of his staring at the gorgeous creature standing beside the redhead.

A shy, nervous smile crept up on the corners of his voluptuous lips at the woman standing by Tiffany's side. Now that she was close enough to him, Austin could make out more of her features up close. She was even more beautiful than he had realized, which strikes him dumb and unable to function. The woman smiled back at Austin as she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ears. To his surprise, she looked like she was captivated by him as well. He noticed that she gave him a quick once over, eyeing his tall and built frame accented gorgeously in Austin's suit- and she definitely liked what she saw.

Tiffany pulled away from Green and gave him a quick peck on the lips, wiping off the red lipstick residue from her husband's mouth. Green sheepishly smiled and turned his attention back to Austin. "Babydoll, there's someone I want you to meet. This is my friend Austin Butler. Austin, this is my better half."

Austin snapped out of his daydream and turned his attention to his friend. He nodded and graciously shook her hand. "Tiffany, it's a pleasure to meet you."

She giggled, her friendly eyes shimmering as she stood tall and proud. "Nice to meet you too Austin."

Green placed one of his hands around Austin's shoulder, and the other one gestured out to Y/N. "And this is Y/N. She keeps my Tiffany on her toes, literally." He laughed.

Austin closed the distance with one stride of his long legs, and he held out a trembling hand to the beautiful lady. "Hi. It's most certainly a pleasure to meet you, Y/N." He cooed.

Her cheeks flushed a rosy hue, blushing at how kind and downright handsome the blonde was. She extended one of her hands, and the minute she made contact with Austin he felt a bolt of lightening rock him to the core. To hold onto just this tiny piece of her was intensely electrifying. He couldn't help but gasp faintly as he looked into her gorgeous eyes. She was sucking him right into her sphere.

Finally, he heard his angel speak. "It's wonderful to meet you too, Austin."

And as the saying goes, the rest is history. To say that Austin was smitten about you was an understatement. He always struggled in past relationships, trying to find the girl of his fantasies that he could settle down with. Because of his celebrity status he either had girls that just wanted to fuck him and run to the press about it, or girls that only saw dollar signs.

But you were different. You saw through to who Austin was at a soul level, and you loved him as if he was just any run of the mill person. To you, he is your guiding light. And you intend to keep him happy for the rest of your life. You and Austin spent every waking moment together. Soon enough you were spending holidays with his family and getting ingrained with the Tenaglia's, who had in a way adopted Austin as their unofficial son and brother. To have their approval meant the world to you, and to him as well. Finally, he had found the missing piece to his puzzle. He felt whole and complete with his woman by his side - his dance partner for all eternity.

The tabloids had a field day when it was announced that the handsome bachelor was engaged to be married. Pictures of you and him were smattered across every newspaper on the east coast. Eventually, he permanently moved from California to settle down with you in New York. This transition worked out well in favor of the Tenaglia's who liked to keep their friend close by to them.

Pellegrino was chosen as best man, and Tiffany was the maid of honor. Anyone who was anyone was invited to the "wedding of the decade", according to the New York Times.

The dance circuit was still as popping as ever, and after a little while of settling into married life and figuring out finances, you and Austin merge as business partners to create Tease - the hottest club to rival that of Studio 54. Every Saturday there would be a dance competition called Boogie Nights where all the best dancers would compete for first place bragging rights, a trophy, and a bit of a cash prize. It was good incentive for people to keep stopping by the club and spending their hard earned money at Tease.

The place actually started to be self sustainable after only a month or two. Green naturally drew more people into the club, and he used a lot of his connections in the mob to bring his friends down there and spread the word. it wasn't long before Tease was the most popular club in New York. The likes of celebrities, musicians, actors and more were spotted at your club - and it only increased your profits. Most of the money made at Tease was split between you and Austin, and the Tenaglia's also got a small cut for helping to promote the club by word of mouth and a little persuasion.

It's not exactly what you envisioned when opening a club with your husband, to have his mafia compadres be latched onto it, but you learned real quick that to appease the Tenaglia's you had to play by their rules and keep your mouth shut. So that's what you did. Plus you trusted Austin's opinion on the family. They took him in and treated him like a son. So, what harm could it do to have them be a part of Tease?

It's not like you were crawling on your hands and knees for the Tenaglia's to help out with business. Afterall, you and Austin are the hottest couple in New York. While you were once an unknown random woman to the general public who was marrying a high profile celebrity, now you were one yourself. All the women took inspiration from how you wore you hair and makeup on the dancefloor, and they definitely copied your fashion. You were becoming somewhat of a local celebrity. And with Austin by your side, you felt like you could do anything. You were on top of the world.

~~~Present day~~~

Tonight is Boogie Nights down over at Tease. The place is bumping with loud disco music. The club is filled with thick clouds of cigarette smoke, and the clinking glasses of alcohol filled the air. There was barely a seat left unoccupied, it was a packed madhouse. Everyone in the Bronx got all dolled up in their best outfits and hair sprayed high to the heavens for this event. Before the competition starts, you let the patrons have their chance to dance on the floor before the professional competitors tear it up.

You and Austin are like the perfect tag team, keeping the joint going. You're out there on the floor, schmoozing with the guests and selling them on getting a drink at the bar. Meanwhile, Austin is letting in all the high rollers and making sure the friends of the Tenaglia's and other goodfellas are well fed and well drunk. Keeping them happy means keeping everyone happy.

You spot your husband from across the room. You decide to take a break from forging friendships with the crowd and make an appearance by his side. Afterall, you know as well as Austin that when it comes to being linked to the Tenaglia family, you have to show people how powerful you are. Seeing is believing.

Your red dress flows effortlessly around your stocking clad legs, the breeze wafting through your perfectly coiffed curls. You wear your best smile as you near the table at the side of the dancefloor where Austin is working his magic at winning over the men. He looks so sexy in his black button down shirt and grey pinstripe pants that hug the curve of his ass deliciously. A couple of buttons are left undone, on purpose, and the gold cross he's wearing hangs down his chiseled chest and lands in his tufts of blonde chest hairs. He looks scrumptious. You almost can't believe this blonde beauty is yours.

Austin stands over the table, looking authoritative yet friendly as he laughs and greets each man one by one with a firm handshake. You make yourself known by reaching out to touch your husband's back with a soft caress of your hand.

"Hi baby, I see that you've welcomed our guests." You say in your bubbliest voice. "I hope you gentlemen are enjoying your evening." You announce to the entire party. Austin smiles warmly at you, wrapping his arm around your waist and bringing you into his side, showing you off to the men.

The group of Italian men smirk at you, while some of them keep their nose down firmly in their drinks, not giving a damn about niceties and looking to get plastered. The man who you assume to be the ring leader flashes a smile at you, showing off his imperfect teeth. He's probably about 60-something, around the same generation as Don Antonio. He seems to have kind brown eyes. And he has a nice head of salt and pepper hair combed back off his ruddy complexion. A thick Brooklyn accent seeps past his thin lips. "Thank you doll. It's hard to not have a good time when you get treated with the upmost of respect 'round 'ere. Your husband keeps a tight ship I see."

Austin shyly smiles, and you pat his chest lovingly at the praise. "Yes he certainly does. I'm the luckiest woman in the entire world." You say proudly.

As you pass glances around the table, you notice some of the men perk up at you. You brush off the ones the ogle a little too long for your liking, which you thought was inappropriate for the setting and the fact that your husband was standing right next to you. Austin notices this as well. He makes a mental note of which men are looking for trouble so he can keep a close eye on them. Obviously he's aware that you're a beautiful girl, and it's only natural to get a couple of eyes on you. But you're his woman, and these bozos should know their place. Austin leans over and kisses your temple, making a show for certain men at the table. They cock their eyebrows and get the picture, going back to putting their head down and drinking their beverages. That put them off for now, and Austin feels his ego boosting.

"I should be so lucky as to be called her husband. You say I keep a tight ship, sir, but Tease wouldn't be what it is without this little lady right here. She's the reason for it all." Austin cooed, beaming a dazzling grin at you.

The older italian man bowed his head in respect with a smile still plastered on his crooked teeth. "You seem like a good kid, Austin. I speak for everyone here at this table when I say that I wish you and your wife many years of a blissful marriage. It'll be 20 years with my Maria in a couple of weeks, so I understand the bond between a husband and a wife. Not that any of these schmucks would know what it means to bring home the bacon to a doting wife. Ain't that right, boys?" The man said rhetorically, purposefully getting a rise out of the other mobsters at the table. If they wanted to keep their heads, they would nod and laugh along with the joke. Some of them do, and others roll their eyes snidely. Again, Austin took note of who clearly had respect and who didn't.

You perked up, sidestepping over the joke with grace. "Well fellas, please let either me or Austin know if you need anything tonight. More refills on your drinks, a song request. Anything, you name it." You say happily, playing the role of mafia wife to a T.

The older italian man raised his glass. "Greatly appreciated, Miss. Salut." He said. The table all raised in saying cheers before downing their drinks.

Austin bowed gracefully at the entire table, and turned on his heel with you still glued by his side. You could feel Austin's hand grip your waist just a little bit harder as you both walked away.

"You saved me back there. I definitely owe you one later." He said out the side of his mouth, attempting to pass smiles and little nods to the patrons that waved hello to the two of you.

"All in a days work, Mr. Butler." You joked.

Austin chuckled, his laugh reverberating deep within his chest and vibrating off of your body that's tightly pressed into his polyester side. "How's about I get you a drink, baby? Tell me what you want, i'll have Marcus make something special for you." Marcus is the bartender for Tease. He's young, handsome, and charismatic enough to attract everyone and keep them filled with booze. He's not a Tenaglia, but he's aware of the prestige that comes with being part of the family unit. Plus he makes a great cocktail.

Before you were about to say to Austin what you wanted to order, while you're both standing at the bar, a boisterous voice cuts through the music and random chatter of the crowd like glass. You recognize that husky sing-song anywhere. Carmine Tenaglia, also goes by C. He's the oldest son to Antonio. You can always tell when Carmine enters a room because you can hear him before you see him. His voice has taken a bit of a beating, sounding like he smokes about 4 packs a day. He wasn't blessed with conventional good looks like Pellegrino, but he's rough around the edges in a bad boy kind of way that gets the attention from women. His big brown eyes can melt butter, but behind those eyes is a fire that screams "don't fuck with me." He never lets his hair down, he always keeps is slicked back with gel and a side part. And he dresses to the nines. Clearly, he loves the life and everything that comes with it. Out of all the Tenaglia brothers, he enjoys spending money on clothes, cars, and fancy dates - even though he's married. But what his wife doesn't know won't hurt her, according to his logic.

Carmine is imposing, loud, but most of all he commands respect from everyone he meets. As the oldest son, he likes to think he takes charge over his father. And sometimes he will give out orders on behest of the family name before consulting with the other men. You know better than to try and cause problems with him. When he drinks, you never know what Carmine is capable of.

Carmine pushes through the crowd of dancers, and you can now clearly see the Italian man making his way over to you both. He has a nice smile surrounded by his typical 5 o'clock shadow he sports. And of course he's in his Saturday best with a matching black suit adorned with gaudy gold jewelry. "Hey! Look at youse! If I had a nickel for every time I'd see you two attached at the hip i'd be a millionaire." He said, laughing heartily. "Come 'ere, you son of a bitch!" He said, pulling Austin around by the shoulders. Austin laughed and embraced Carmine with a bear hug.

"Hey C, nice to see you." Austin said in the man's ear. After a few seconds of a warm familial hug, Carmine pulls away and looks over Austin, patting him on the shoulders roughly, clearly a Tenaglia family trait of brotherly rough-housing that got passed down.

"Man, you always look like a million bucks. You must go to the same tailor I do. Sanduskies on 34th Street will have you going from rags to riches in a few stitches. Hey, they should use that as their tagline." Carmine chuckled, thinking he's the funniest man since Richard Prior.

Austin blushed and patted Carmine on the back. "I learned from the best." He said, sweetly.

Carmine grabbed Austin by the face with his hands and kissed both his cheeks in typical Italian fashion.

"Oh Marone! Now ain't you a sight for sore eyes." He said, eyeing you once over. "Come give me a hug, you look terrific." Carmine gestured you over with a wave of his hand adorned with rings, his gold chain bracelet rustling along his wrist.

You smiled and hugged Carmine warmly. "Thank you Carmine. Are you here alone?" You asked when you pulled away from the hug - not seeing his latest flavor of the week on his arm.

Carmine shook his head. "Nah, you know me I ain't ever alone. The young buck with little miss fire engine is in tow." He said. The young buck is a nickname he gave to Pellegrino, and little miss fire engine is in reference to Tiffany, if it wasn't obvious enough.

And as if on command, the handsome italian man with his gorgeous redheaded wife make their way over to the three of you.

"Hey, what's going on Austin? Y/N?" Happily said Green. He flashed a warm smile, his olive eyes friendly as he greeted you both with quick hugs.

Carmine laughed. "See, it's a family affair."

"It's nice to see you too, C." Said Tiffany playfully, slapping his arm.

Austin placed one of his hands behind him on the bar countertop. "You guys should get a table before they fill up."

Green raised his brow and threw his arm around Austin's shoulder. "Come join us for a bit, man. It's good to catch up with you." Green narrowed his captivating eyes on you. "Is it okay if we steal him away from you for a little while, Bambi?" He asked. Bambi was the nickname the men gave you, and it's a double meaning. Bambi is short for bambino which means baby in Italian. And Bambi is also in reference to the film because you're as ethereal and beautiful as a doe eyed deer. The nickname coming from Pellegrino pulls at your heartstrings.

"Oh, I suppose I can find a way to live without my marito." You said in a playful longing tone. Marito is one of your many petnames for Austin, and it means husband in italian. Of course, being adopted into an Italian family you learn some choice words.

Austin winked at you and pressed his soft lips to yours in a simple but tender brush of his mouth. "I'll be right back, babygirl." He said in a sultry low tone.

You shivered at his baritone and nodded, chewing on your bottom lip as you drank in the lingering taste of whiskey from the kiss he left behind.

In a flash, the three men waltzed their way to a smokey corner of the club. Tiffany stayed behind with you.

"I'll keep you company, honey. Besides, I wanna dance. Let's boogie." She said perky as ever. And how could you not oblige your best friend? You linked arms with the fair redhead, making your way to the dance floor.

As time passes on, Austin is still lounging at a round table with Carmine and Pellegrino. They nurse their drinks and smoke cigarettes, catching up on their day.

You and Tiffany have barely left the dance floor. With your experience as Club Owner, you've noticed that it helps to bring customers back to Tease when they see you so eager to dance alongside everybody else. And you're not gonna pass up an opportunity to have a good time. The music makes you sway to the funky rhythms. The skirt of your dress twirls around you as you and Tiff join hands in sliding on the dance floor.

You were so caught up in the moment of the dance with your friend that you barely noticed a familiar man making his way to you slyly from the corner of your eye. Out of your peripheral you caught him. One of the oggling Italian men from the table you had greeted earlier was bold enough to slither his way to your side. He paid no attention to Tiffany, making his beeline straight towards you. The man was alone, so you thought perhaps this situation could turn out okay given that the right steps are taken.

You tried your best to not look over at him, hoping he would get the hint and go away. Unfortunately, he wasn't gonna care if you took notice of him or not. He was gonna make himself known regardless.

A gross, creepy smirk plays at his thin lips. You can smell the stench of his cuban cigar and bourbon overwhelm your senses, making your stomach churn.

"Care to dance, bella mia?" He asked, sounding heavily intoxicated. His slurred words fumble out of him, but even in his drunken state he attempts to exert dominance over the situation. His beady eyes scan the curves of your body and you wanna crawl out of your skin at the thought of the nasty things he's probably thinking about you right now.

Tiffany eyes him cautiously and then looks over at you to gauge your reaction. You clear your throat and briefly make eye contact with him. "No thank you. The only man I dance with is my husband." You assert strongly. Hoping that was enough to get the drunk wise guy off your case.

He doesn't take to kindly to that. He cockily raises his thick black brows. "Come on, sugar. We both know that Blondie doesn't satisfy you. You need a man like me to show you what's what." He says, stifling back a hiccup.

"You've got some nerve saying that to me when you know exactly who my husband is." You say, letting go of Tiff's grip and crossing your arms over your chest. The v-neck cut of your dress shows off your round breasts, and unfortunately you regret crossing your arms now because the weirdo makes no attempt to hide the fact he's staring right down your cleavage. You not only feel dirty, but revolted.

The Italian man doesn't back down. In a loud manner he raises his voice and flails his hands around as he talks for emphasis, and he takes a step forward to get closer to you. "I know exactly who your husband is, and frankly I don't give a fuck about them pansy-ass Tenaglia's. People know me 'round these parts. I could snap my fingers and your husband would be an obituary in Sunday's papers. What I want, I get. Now, lemme ask you again. And this time, be smart with your answer. Would you care to dance with me?" He bites back, not leaving any room for interpretation of his words.

He's making such a scene that the dancers around you all are eyeing the both of you with a concerned look on their faces, and some of them stop dancing entirely to watch the scene unfold, not knowing what to do.

"Not a chance in hell, you don't scare me." You retort. While you are visibly shaking, you don't want to give the guy the satisfaction of knowing you are intimidated. He'd be a first class fool to make even more of a scene with half of the Tenaglia crew waiting in the wings. He's so drunk that you don't even take his threats seriously.

The Italian man simply stands there, hands ball up into tight fists. He dryly chuckles, and purses his lips. "Wrong answer, sweetheart."

Sensing trouble afoot and seeing that this guy isn't leaving, Tiffany chimes in and comes to your aid. "Listen here, you take one more step and I'll yank those hair plugs right off your head. My husband is also a Tenaglia and he'll beat the shit out of you." The redhead says with as much sass and fervor as she can muster. She's not one to always get into confrontations, but for you and her family she'll cuss out whoever she needs to.

The man places one of his heeled boots in front of the other, daring to go against Tiffany's warning. "You broads think you're tough shit, huh?" He exclaims, his voice raising an octave with his anger. "Seems like ain't nobody put you bitches in your place. Well, you're about to get a firm lesson with the back of my hand." He says, raising his right hand adorned with chunky gold rings.

Suddenly it's all happening so fast you can barely process what's happening. Tiffany pushes you back and attempts to step into the line of fire, bringing her arms up to deflect the man's hand in time. But you two don't have to worry about a thing. What you didn't know was that the Tenaglia's caught the tail end of the situation. It was hard not to when the man was making such a ruckus on the dancefloor. This idiot dared to show disrespect to Tiffany and to you, which cuts through even deeper because this is your club. Pellegrino and Austin watched on for a minute with furious anger as the man was making idle threats to the family and imposing himself onto their wives. Like hell they were gonna stand there and not do something about it. The men down their drinks and make their dissent, on a one-way mission to teach this guy a lesson.

Carmine, Pellegrino, and Austin march their way over to the dance floor and push through the bewildered crowd of dancers. Austin is fuming, and he looks like he's about to go into a blind rage. He walks with determination, fists wound tightly by his sides. He's seeing red.

"Back away from my wife, you motherfucker." Austin bellowed. He grabbed hold of the man's shoulder and spun him around so he was face to face with the scumbag. Austin's right fist swung hard and fast, connecting into the italian man's face, making him see stars.

Both you and Tiffany stood back, mouths agape and looking on with shock. You can't believe the situation took a turn for the worse. Pellegrino steps to the side and ushers you and Tiff away from the violence on the floor. Meanwhile, Carmine and Austin were ontop of the man as fast as lightening. There's no chance they're letting this guy get away unpunished. They were gonna use him as an example to every other wise guy in the club that if you act like vermin you're gonna get treated as such. Austin landed another devastating punch to his face, and Carmine wrapped his arms around him in a bind to stifle the man from fighting back.

"Get this fucking guy out of here." Austin huffed. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure. "Bring him out back." He commanded. Carmine nodded and grabbed the man by the scruff of his neck, heading towards the back exit of the club. Pellegrino was hot on the heels of Carmine, grabbing one of the arms of the beaten man and holding him in a vice grip.

People weren't sure if they should continue dancing or if they should head out early. But the DJ clicked on the intercom, making an announcement to assure people everything was fine and to resume dancing as normal. So the disco music never ceased to play loudly over the speakers, as if nothing had happened. It's a surreal combination to experience the cheery, jazzy beats swelling in your ears coupled with the the intense emotions on the dancefloor.

Before Austin followed Carmine and Pellegrino outside, he shot a quick glance in your direction, checking in on you. His baby blues were stormy with anger. He softened a little bit seeing your face and scared eyes, but he knew this was all in an effort to protect you. So he soldiered on.

The backdoor sprang open, the blinding light from the outside world is a jarring juxtaposition from the dark atmosphere inside the club. Carmine threw the italian man down onto the ground without a care, pushing him outside. He stumbled and spit blood out onto the cobblestones below him.

Pellegrino followed after Carmine, grabbing onto the shirt collar of the man on the ground and forcing him to his feet. "Get the fuck up." He was just as upset this slimy guy disrespected Tiffany, and he was gonna get in a good swing when he could - he'd patiently wait his turn. Right now, Austin was intent on fucking this guy up.

Austin was the last one out, and he slammed the door behind him with a loud thud. Carmine and Green held onto either arm of the scared italian man, pinning him to the brick wall opposite the club. He was no match for the strong Tenaglia's.

Austin, with a sneer on his face, rolled up his shirt sleeves. "You think you're some fucking tough guy. Coming into my club, drinking my liquor, and making a pass on my wife. And after I welcomed you and your buddies so kindly. You must be a real chump." He said haughtily.

The italian man slurred his speech even more, the blood dribbling out of his mouth. He shot daggers into Austin. "I guess Blondie's got balls after all." He said tauntingly, getting in one last petty blow. Carmine and Green looked at each other and then down at the man, amazed that he actually has the gall to talk back in the predicament he finds himself in. Those would be his final words. He was digging himself an early grave.

Austin rolled his head around his neck, the cracks vibrating off of the brick, and he rounded his shoulders back. Not wasting any more precious time, Austin landed punch after punch on the man's face. Blood was flying every which way. His blonde waves unkempt and fell over the slope of his forehead as he brought his fists back and smashed into the scumbag's face - it was crumpling beneath his hand like an overly ripe tomato. The man wailed as he had to stand there and take the blows. Meanwhile, Austin was grunting like wild animal, his knuckles getting swollen by the second. He was determined and couldn't think straight. All his years of studying the art of boxing has finally come in handy. And by God he was gonna fling all of his might and fury into this lowlife's face.

Carmine and Pellegrino kept holding firm onto the man, wincing slightly as to not get too close to Austin's blows. After what seemed like eternity, Austin landed one last punch square in the mouth and backed away heaving ragged breaths, gulping down fresh air into his lungs. He pointed his index finger right into the man's bruised and bloodied face. "I swear to God, if you even so much as look at my wife again i'll rip your eyes out of their sockets." He spit out aggressively.

Carmine laughed and looked over the victim. "Nice work, Butler. I think the asshole learned his lesson. Never fuck with the Tenaglia's." He smiled devilishly.

Austin put his hands over his hips and nodded at the men. Carmine and Green took the blonde's non verbal queue and released their grip on the bloody pulp of a man, who immediately fell into a heap on the cold alley floor with a groan. Carmine spit down towards the man on the ground, and walked over to Austin cool as a cucumber.

Pellegrino however was not about to walk away without landing one blow for his own pride. He crouched down and landed a punch so hard he knocked a few teeth from the beaten up Italian man's mouth. "That was for my wife, you rat." He said with sour resentment.

Carmine walked over to Green and placed his hands over his shoulders. "Come on fratellino, don't get your nice suit all dirty with this fucko's blood. The stains are a bitch to get out." He says, trying to cut through the seriousness with a morbid joke. Green huffed and nodded, walking back into the club and disappearing from the scene of the crime - he fears if he stays for a second longer he'll lose his composure even more. He had done his part, nothing more was needed. Carmine brushed the dirt off his shoulders and he too stepped back into the club. And now there were two.

Austin stared down at the pathetic man below him, feeling empowered. It felt damn good to deliver swift justice on behalf of his wife. And he hoped this beating taught the man a powerful lesson. Respect means just as much to any Italian clan as loyalty. Without respect, you might as well be considered dead. He knew as soon as he gawked openly at his wife at the table that Austin was gonna have his hands full. He never thought however that it would take a turn like this, and so swiftly. But he would do it again all the same knowing that he protected you.

With one final passing glance at the man on the floor, Austin turned around and opened the exit door, walking back into the club.

Everyone seemingly enough forgot about the altercation that just took place. The music kept blaring and the drinks kept pouring. But you were still on the sidelines of the dancefloor. And one by one you saw the Tenaglia brothers walk back inside. Carmine tapped Green on the shoulder, whispering something into his ear, and Green nodded. Carmine walked off towards the front door of the club while Green headed back over to the men's table.

You were looking for Austin when finally you saw him rush back into the club, looking disheveled. You can feel his anger from a mile away. He made a beeline for the men's bathroom, with both hands he pushed the door open forcefully, disappearing inside.

While against your better judgement to follow your husband into the men's bathroom, you wanted to make sure he was okay. No one had exited the bathroom, so you assume that he's alone in there. Thinking that it was safe to make a move, you start to make your way over to the bathroom, and timidly open the door.

"Austin?" Your angelic voice calls out to him sweetly as you peek open the door, not wanting to barge right in. You can't see a lot from your vantage point except for the running water in one of the porcelain sinks as Austin stands over it.

"Come in and close the door, honey." Austin said as his voice waivers, still riled up from the events that just transpired.

You immediately shuffle in and close the door behind you, turning the lock so that no one would try to interrupt and see the mess. You're in shock when you see Austin standing over the bathroom sink, the water turning a shade of pink as he washed the copious amount of blood off of hands. You've never seen Austin like this before. He was amazing at using his words to win in a fight if need be, but he never resorted to physical violence. This was a new hat that Austin was wearing at at first you aren't sure what to make of it.

Austin sensed your nervousness as you just stood by the door fiddling with your hands, not venturing inside. He turned his head over to you, capturing your eyes in a searing look. The disgust was still prevalent as it rolled off him in droves, but he started to melt seeing his beautiful wife look so innocent, unaware that he just beat a man within an inch of his life just a minute ago. And it was all because of her.

The corners of his lips curled up slightly in a soft smile. "Don't worry baby, this isn't my blood." He said, trying to pacify the situation and put you at ease. As if knowing it was someone else's blood makes it any better.

"Are you okay?" You ask shyly.

Austin nodded. "I'm maybe a little shaken up, but i'm fine. it's you that i'm concerned about." He says, getting back to washing his hands in the sink with some soap.

Your high heels click against the white linoleum tiles as you make your way over to Austin's side. You place one of your hands lovingly on his shoulder. He feels tense under your hand at first, but once he feels the warmth of you he starts to relax.

You look into the sink and see Austin's hands up close. His knuckles are red and swollen, they must really hurt. You can only imagine what the other guy looks like right now if Austin came back with these battle scars. You shiver uncomfortably at the thought. You'd rather not know.

You move to stand behind Austin, and your arms wrap around his waist, bringing his body into your soft curves. He brings his head back up to look at you through the bathroom mirror. Even in your high heels you were still considerably shorter than he was.

He sighed deeply, turning the faucet off and letting one of his battered hands rest on the ledge of the countertop, while the other one placed tenderly over your hands around his front.

"I've never seen you like that before. It's like you had a fire behind your eyes that couldn't be extinguished. When I saw you walking out back I thought you were gonna kill him." You said, muffled into his shoulder blade.

He looked at you through the mirror with weary eyes. "I almost did, but not on purpose. The bastard had it coming. No one ever dares to lay a hand on you. If they're stupid enough they can try but I'm always gonna be there to protect you. You're my wife, my most cherished earthly possession." He paused briefly to turn around in your arms and he brought his hands up to show you the damage. The water trickled down his long fingers mixing with the residual blood on his knuckles. Your brow furrowed with worry seeing just how scarred his beautiful hands were. "And this is what happens when someone tries to tarnish my treasure." He said matter of factly.

You sighed, your hands carefully cradling his and inspecting them further. You bring the back of his right hand to your lips and press a featherlight kiss to his skin, staring up at his ocean eyes.

Austin winced a little bit, but the brief glimpse of faint pain turned into pleasure as he let out a throaty whimper. You continued to place gentle, easy kisses along his rugged hands, peppering them with love as you dote on him tenderly. Your face nuzzled into the palm of his right hand, your lips brushing up against the sore pad of his thumb as you bring the digit into your wet mouth, sucking slowly.

"Babygirl." Austin sighed longingly.

You wanted nothing more than to take care of your man. He's never had the proper moment to defend your honor before tonight, and in such a violent way no less. While it scared you at first seeing Austin punch the lights out of a wise guy who definitely deserved it, and was foaming at the mouth with rage ready to rip his head off his shoulders, your body is on fire - not with anger, but with a swell of burning passion. He came to your aid and protected you. While that might frighten off any young girl who would probably pack her bags the minute their husband beat the shit out of somebody and comes back with bloody hands, you were different. This is the life you inadvertently signed up for. Plus, you're no ordinary woman. You have to admit the truth - it turned you on like no other.

And seemingly Austin felt the same way, as you could feel his growing erection pressing into your stomach the longer you smother his inflamed hands with spellbinding kisses, bringing him back down to Earth. You never thought aggression like that would make you wetter than a waterfall, but there's always a first time for everything.

You hummed around his thumb, your long lashes fluttered as you continued to stare up at your man, who was slowly coming undone Infront of you. You release his thumb from your mouth with a pop and your hands roamed over his chest. You let your fingers trace over the gold cross necklace that dangled in the tufts of blonde chest hairs. Something about this very symbol of devotion to God being worn around his neck while he was beating that horrid man out back to smithereens in your honor made the coil in your stomach wind tight and your pussy throb with desire. You needed Austin, and now.

You lock eyes with Austin's blues, heavy lidded with lust, and bite your lip. "We don't have much time before we have to head back out there and play the role of Club Owners. But you're not leaving this room until you've shot every ounce of your cum down my throat. As your wife, that's what I want."

Austin moaned at your bold, heated statement. He licked his lips and cradled your face in his hands, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. "As your husband, who am I to deny you?" He says huskily.

He crashed his lips onto yours, moaning into your mouth. Your tongues probing each others mouths, lapping back and forth for mutual dominance. His tired hands roam the expanse of your body, greedily palming the flesh of your ass, bringing you closer to his hard body. Your hands trailed down to the waistband of his slacks and hurriedly unbuttoned and unzipped them. To your surprise Austin went commando under his pants, but this allowed you for easy and quick access to the part of him you yearned for.

You let one of your small hands palm his cock, letting your fingers dance along his velvet length. He shakes in your hand, softly moaning against your parted mouth at the contact of your warm hand over his aching desire. You don't want to waste any more time, you need him right now. Going down easy, you kneel down in front of him, perched prettily on your high heels. Your hands reach up to his open pants, pulling them down Austin's long legs and letting the fabric pool at his ankles. The cool breeze hits his lower half for the first time, and his hard cock throbs in your face at the sweet release. The poor thing is already red and leaking with pre-cum. It won't take him long at all to deliver on his promise of filling your throat with his load. But you want to savor the feel of him for as long as you can. Sweetly, you place kisses all along the underside of his shaft and make your way back towards the tip. Austin blushes at you lavishing his manhood - you take such good care of him, he's in awe of the wonder of you - his darling wife. Your tongue slips past your lips and you lick the red and puffy head.

Austin tilts his head back and moans "Jesus fuck, I need your mouth on my cock so bad, baby."

His plea makes you wet, and you're gonna make sure he fully enjoys the messiest blowjob you're prepared to bestow upon him. You let a generous amount of spit gather in your mouth and you allow the drool to pour out over his cock, coating him nice and good. You wrap both hands around his engorged cock, giving him a few pumps and earning you throaty, hoarse, whiny moans from Austin above you.

Finally, your mouth parts and you take him into your mouth. You play with just the tip for now, sucking the sensitive head in your mouth and stroking his shaft. You moan around him like a good girl, making him shiver.

"Oh yeah. My girl knows how to suck me good." He moans delightfully. All the little whimpers and throaty groans he makes is like music to your ears, and you've barely gotten started. He's just as down bad for you as you are for him. Your panties collect all of the spilled nectar from your pussy, and you wish he could sample how good you taste. But there's plenty of time for that later. Right now, Austin's pleasure is all you care about.

Slowly, you start to sink your mouth down around his cock, taking him further into your mouth. You place both of your hands on the backs of his thick thighs, stroking him lovingly as you set to getting to work. You create a strong vacuum seal with your mouth, wrapping tightly around his throbbing cock and begin to bob your head up and down along his length. It's beyond messy, and drool is falling out the corners of your mouth, making his cock slippery as he slides deliciously along your wet tongue. Droplets of your saliva fall to the floor Infront of you. He grows heavy and harder by the second, making you work your little mouth off to satisfy every single glorious inch of your husband's heavenly made cock.

He knits his brows together, his eyes heavy and glazed over in pure ecstasy at the sight of his wife on her knees sucking him off while there's a packed room full of patrons right outside the door. He hoped the music was loud enough to disguise his obvious moans.

"Fuck. Just like that, baby. Your mouth is incredible." Austin groans desperately.

You gurgle around his cock as you pick up the pace just a little, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You relax your jaw to accommodate his impressive size. Somehow he's even bigger today. Perhaps all the adrenaline from a few moments ago is rushing straight to his cock. He's a needy and whimpering mess up above you. His hands card through your soft silky hair, holding on for dear life as he brings you further along his cock. He's lost in the feeling of your warm, sloppy mouth milking his shaft - somehow, even though you've been married for some time, you make every sexual experience with Austin feel like the first time all over again. He doesn't know what the hell he did to deserve you. Never has a woman gotten down on her knees for him and sucked the soul straight through his cock, determined to make him see stars. At this point he doesn't give a fuck who he has to beat up if it's all in the name of protecting you, and getting his dick wet in you after.

You moan around him, never letting up on the rumbling vibration from your mouth penetrate straight through his cock and through to his aching balls, which are desperate to unleash their load.

His body starts to shake, you know he's close. His plush lips form an O shape as he lets out a raspy, deep moan. "I-I'm gonna cum."

In one last final move to put him over the edge, you bring one of your hands back to his base, and your mouth sloppily sucks off his engorged tip once more. You know this is his finishing move. His head is so sensitive and you know he can come in record time with this combo of jerking him off and blowing his puffy tip. You make obscene sloshing noises around his cock, the sound of his wet skin in your hand echoes off of the bathroom tiles. If anybody were to walk past the bathroom right now they'd think a porno was being filmed in here. Your hand milks his shaft while your mouth works his throbbing tip.

Austin lets his head fall back. "Oh god yes, i'm cuming." He groans in a needy high pitch for his baritone. "Take my load down your throat. Take all of me." He moans thickly and dark.

And you do, happily. His hips stutter as he heaves ragged breaths, his salty cum gushing into your mouth. You sputter around his cock as you swallow every last drop of your husband's cum. You moan once more around him before pulling back, ensuring you devoured every morsel his precious seed. His cock springs free from your mouth and nearly slaps you in the face as the wave of his orgasm courses through his body. You lick your lips of the remnants of his cum on your mouth.

Austin's hands reach down to grasp your forearms, helping you up onto your feet. You wobble a little, and you'd be lying if you said your feet weren't killing you from crouching on the balls of your heeled feet for the duration of your sloppy blowjob. But it was worth it to see the warm, sultry look over Austin's face. He was love drunk on you.

He tucked himself back into his pants and fumbled to button and zip up his trousers, but he managed to do it. He smiles and brings you in to his lips for a passionate kiss, not caring if he can taste himself on your tongue.

You're about to step to the side of him, making your move to unlock the bathroom door as your mission to seduce your husband was a success, but he stops you. He takes you in his arms and pins you up against the edge of the sink. You gasp when he bends down and his hands grip the backs of your thighs. With a grunt, he places you up onto the counter, and settles in-between your parted legs.

"Let's see how fast I can make you cum." Austin says seductively with a devilish twinkle in his eyes. This was certainly not what you were expecting, but you're not complaining.

You don't even have time to respond before Austin spits on two of his long fingers, and with the other one he shifts your soaked panties to the side. He's not surprised when his fingers make contact with your dripping folds that you were soaking wet. You whimper at his fingers dipping in deep into your sweet cunt. Your juices coat his swollen, rough fingers, your pussy lips drawing him in as far as he can go. And without a moment to lose, his fingers disappear into your heat.

"Austin!" You moan loudly as you feel his fingers enter you and brush against your g-spot. Oh, he's in deep. He's so deep in fact that you feel full of him instantly. Austin is buried knuckles deep in your sopping cunt. Your hands grip onto his broad shoulders for support.

"Mm. Always so wet and tight for me at a moments notice. My perfect wife." He moans sexily.

He doesn't take his time, he meant what he said by how quickly he can make you cum. He's set for the task at hand. And he's willing to bet it will only take you a minute with his skilled fingers, perfectly in sync with your body, knowing exactly what you need to set you over the edge.

Keeping his fingers the deepest they can possibly go inside you, he begins to finger fuck you hard and fast. Your slick sputters around his fingers and gush out around him. It sounds so fucking wet.

"Oh god, yes!" You squeal. He knows exactly how and where to press all your buttons to make you squirm in the best way possible. And right now he's blasting your cunt so good you can't even think straight.

You let your head fall back and the breathy whines escape your mouth. Austin groans at the sound of your juicy pussy sloshing your slick around his fingers. The obscene thought that these same fingers were soaked in that man's blood crossed your mind. But the violence Austin's hands endured only moments ago is replaced with primal pleasure, and his girl's heavenly nectar washing away the blood stains.

Austin clenches his jaw and grits his teeth. His hand is worse for wear and it's not helping matters that he's pounding into your soft heat with his beaten up hand, but there was no way he was letting his girl walk out of here without being treated to a good fuck.

"Fuck! You're so good." You moan. Austin is unrelenting on his brutal pace. He's not letting his fingers slip too far out of you either. He's keeping them cemented deep down inside your pussy, his fingers brushing up against your g-spot and bruising your cervix with every thrust. The open palm of his hand barely grazes your clit, and your walls clamp down hard around his fingers, causing him to bite his lip and moan. He brings his other hand around your front and brushes your clit in determined circles. "Oh my god, Aus!" You whine. You feel his biceps flex hard underneath your hands as he expertly churns the coil down at the vast depths of your dripping wet pussy. It's getting him hard all over again.

Austin's lip twitches into a coy side smirk. His dimples making an appearance. "You like this, baby? You like knowing these fingers stuffed full in your pussy were defending your honor? Hear how wet you are for me, darlin. All your heavenly juices are mine. I wanna fuckin' drown in it. Make a mess of me." Austin moaned, never daring to look away from your eyes that were welling up with tears of pure bliss.

Your body trembled as you felt yourself getting closer to your climax. You allowed yourself to moan to the high heavens, not caring how loud you were being. In fact, you wanted everyone to know that Austin Butler was bringing you to your wettest orgasm you've ever had.

"This pussy is yours baby. Take all of it! Oh F-Fuck, im gonna cum!" You squeal, your walls fluttering around his fingers.

Austin groaned. "That's it, my love. Give it to me." He said, huskily.

With a few final, brutal thrusts of his fingers, your pussy spasmed hard around him, groaning loudly and shouting Austin's name. Sweat drips down Austin's forehead, his blonde waves tousled out of place looking unkempt yet effortlessly sexy. Your body collapses in a heap on the bathroom counter, and Austin braces you with one hand. He keeps himself inside you for a little longer as you ride your orgasm to completion. When he thinks you've crash-landed, he pulls his fingers soaked through to the bone with your cum out of your swollen pussy. Austin bit his lip and admired how his bruised knuckled glistened with your arousal. He brought them into his mouth and sucked them clean, moaning in delight at the delicious flavor of you.

"Holy shit, Austin." You breathed heavily, laughing a little.

"I think that was record time." He said, giggling cutely.

You smiled and pulled him by the shirt collar into a soft kiss. Pulling away, you inspect his hand. "That probably didn't feel good to your hand. I'm sorry, honey." You said.

Austin blew off your apology. "Nothing to even be sorry about," He placed his hands around the small of your waist and hoisted you up, helping you back down onto the ground. "Besides, I think your pussy was the miracle elixir I needed to get my hand on the mend." He said, flashing you an adorably crooked wink at you.

You laughed, playfully slapping his chest. Austin jumped back a little and chuckled heartily.

"Just so we don't look like we spent the last 20 minutes in here fucking like rabbits, I think you should go out first and then I'll follow you shortly." You said smiling, still regaining your composure. You know you're gonna be walking funny for a few hours. Your pussy took a rigorous beating, but it's a sore feeling you wholeheartedly accept.

Austin stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets. He looks like a freshly watered pot of daisies. His angry temperament had faded away long ago. You were his cure. He nodded. "Okay, suit yourself baby. Don't wait too long though. This is the men's room after all." He laughed.

"I won't, I promise." You reassured him sweetly.

Austin winked again and puckered his lips, kissing the air in your direction before turning around. He unlocked the bathroom door and glanced back at you one last time with his beautiful eyes that were sparkling, and a cute smile on his face before he walked away. The disco lights and the blaring music from the outside world briefly showed itself. Reminding you of where you were.

You sighed and looked at yourself in the mirror. Your shaking hands smoothed over the front of your dress. You cleaned yourself up as best you good. And you attempted to fix your hair that had fallen out of place. Luckily you made sure to put a little travel size bottle of hairspray in the mens and womens bathrooms for your guests to touch up their hair after dancing, so you took the aquanet and sprayed a generous amount on your coiffure. After fluffing your hair once more, you decided enough time had passed and you were safe to exit the bathroom without no one the wiser.

Your feet were on fire, and you wanted nothing more than to get out of these heels. But you still had a few more hours of work before you and Austin could head home. You gingerly pushed the door open, and suddenly you were back into the dark world of Tease. You walked further into the club, and seemingly nobody noticed you. So your plan worked.

Your eyes scanned over every corner until you found Austin again, who was back at the bar talking with Green and Tiffany. Carmine still wasn't anywhere to be found, at least from where you were standing. You assumed maybe he left early. And while that was a little odd for a man that thrives on being out and not at home with his wife, you shrugged off the thought.

But your stomach dropped when you noticed the gang of Italian wise guys that you had greeted at the table earlier in the evening. They looked like to be in a hurry to scamper out of here. You didn't spot any sign of the sleezeball who had attempted to pimp slap you on the dancefloor though. Maybe he had gotten the obvious hint and left. The way the men were tightly grouped together and walking like they mean business made the little nagging voice in the back of your head spring to life. Something was wrong.

The men had opened the exit door where Green, Carmine, and Austin had once been earlier. Why were they sneaking out the back when they could just walk out the front door? Going against your better instincts, you decide to follow them from a considerable distance away. This was probably the worst idea, but you had a bad feeling about this, and you were gonna find out what it was to quell your nerves.

You hung back as the exit door swung open and you caught a glimpse of the men bending down to the cold alley floor and picking up mister hair plugs, who seemingly was still laying on the ground and never left his spot the entire time you and Austin had your quickie.

In the light you finally saw the damage Austin had done to the man. You gasped when you saw the black eyes, missing teeth, and blood still pouring from his mouth. You made sure to hide in the shadows so the men didn't see you from the inside. He barely resembled the man you had seen on the dancefloor.

"Jesus Christ, they somehow made you even uglier." Said one of the younger suits.

"Shut your big mouth, Tommy. Just pick him up." Barked the older Italian man you knew to definitely be the ring leader of the pack. You recognized him from earlier - he said all those nice things to you and Austin about Tease and your marriage. You hoped he was still one of the good ones out of the bunch. You couldn't account for the others.

The man on the ground moaned in pain like an injured dog. Tommy and the young fella who you vaguely recognized from the table, plus the older gentleman was flanking the beaten man. And slowly but surely, the scumbag rose to his feet. He could barely hold himself up, he was leaning on his men for help. He spit out a generous helping of blood onto the cobblestones, a trail of the viscous red fluid started to stain his suit and corn starch stiff button down shirt.

"Well, what the fuck do we do know?" Said young wise guy number 2, who's name you still hadn't figured out yet.

"We gotta get him back home, that's what the fuck we do." Retorted Tommy.

"Ey. Just zip your fuckin' pie holes all youse, and keep Michael on his feet." Says the older man. You learned another new piece of information. The man who made the bold move against you and Tiffany was named Michael. You jotted that down for safe keeping. You wish you could remember what Italian family they belong to. All you knew was the older man who was the head honcho, who's name alludes you. You have Michael the fuckwit, and Tommy the bigmouth. You also had the other young suit who looked to be Austin's age and was struggling to keep it together.

The man who you gathered now was Tommy peered out into the street, making sure the coast was clear before he waved the other men in the alley with his hand to signal it was good to move.

Before the group of men made their final dissent into the street, you heard Michael utter something that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention, and send a bone chilling shiver down your spine.

"Blondie and his fucking whore wife are gonna regret this day." He said with as much bitter resentment as possible. He spit out more blood before letting his head roll in front of him. It looked like he passed out as his eyes were closed, and the no-name, scared shitless gangster was slapping his face, trying to keep him conscious.

"We'll deal with them Tenaglia motherfuckers later. Move your asses. We're good to go here." Loudly whispered Tommy. And as quickly as they came, they vanished into the hazy Brooklyn streets.

You closed the door and stood there in a stupor, trying to process what you just heard. These guys seemed like they're not to be trifled with. But you can't know for sure. You've meet half a dozen Italian mafiosos who were all bark and no bite. While you knew Michael was in no condition to do anything to enact on a revenge scheme, you weren't sure about the other men. The scaredy-cat goodfella might not be a threat, but that Tommy guy definitely had a vendetta to enact. They all seem like loose canons, and you couldn't really pin any of them down. And that terrified you. What did he mean by "dealing" with the Teneglia's later? You weren't sure. And you weren't waiting long to find out.

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