#i blame my mother for that one she always made me ashamed of being sick or whatever acting like it was my fault

[the-acid-pear]

Mental illness is insane I'm just having dinner w my father eating this a little too spicy pasta enjoying the Yeowch on my throat and the silence and suddenly I'm like yeah I'd kill myself.

[takumitsukishima]

End of year, end of longing, end of my love

Things I need to get off my chest so I can close this heartbroken chapter of life for all eternity

If you are the person of this post, which I know you like to snoop around ex-friend’s social media, um fuck you? This post isn’t for you, you blocked me so why don’t you fuck off from my blog.

Without any further ado, let’s get this over with

I would like to preface that all of this is from my perspective, so its heavily biased without any question. Since the other party can’t reply to this, I ask anyone reading this to not judge the other person. I don’t know what was going through their life, and frankly they never told me. It was never my business I suppose. The reason I’m doing this is to confront my own feelings. I too never told my side of things, maybe because I was never heard by others or I’m too afraid to tell it. But either way, it’s mostly from my AVPD that I never address anything in my life. So with the help of my health provider, the best way to process these emotions is to face them, head on.

I think this friendship was over when the first time they decided to lie to me. I kept it going because I was desperate, I was alone. I was always alone, and to me if this person also left, meant that I probably repel people more than I make friends. I just ended a friendship in few months prior. I was still feeling raw. So I latched onto my current friends with a vice grip. I was afraid, I was desperate. So when I come back home from holidays I try to spend as much time I can with the said friends. I won’t see them for a year. And I was afraid, very afraid. So, this let my friend to feel smothered. I wish they would have said something, anything in fact. But they decided to lie, use their mother’s health as lie to make me feel selfish. “Why do you want to spend so much time with me, you know I have a hard life. You are being very selfish.” And I crumbled and relented to her wishes. I did as she told kept my distance. And for the remainder of holidays I didn’t ask any of my friends for spending time with me. I know they were the only one that complained. But I took it to an extreme.

Months pass by, and I learn from another mutual friend that this person is dating someone. Actually dating someone even before I came back for holidays. Suddenly it clicked, maybe she lied about her mother being sick and went to meet their partner instead. I wasn’t angry that they were dating someone. I was just lost; why didn’t they just tell me. They didn’t have to introduce me to their partner. Just tell me what was happening.  I confronted them, and they at first got mad that how did I find out. I should be ashamed I’m snooping around their life. Then finally they did admit, “Yes I did lie. I lied because of you. It’s because you are like this. I have to lie.” This person always dated people but never told me their names or when they did date. So I felt hurt again for the level of distrust. I communicated that, and they replied the same. “It’s because you are like this, I have to hide this stuff from you.”

When this happened, I blamed myself too. I thought wow, I am such a shit person. No wonder no one loves me. Now in retrospect I see this person never took any accountability for their wrongs. I was to blame if they lied, never matter it was them who decided to lie. And when they said, because you are like this, I crumbled. I wondered what does that even mean? Why are they saying this? Why can’t they just talk. They never talk in person, every confrontation, every lie they admitted to was on text conversation. Which made assessing their sincerity tough for me. I just this year discovered that I am neurodivergent. I can’t assess people via text, that why I always add emojis to my texts. But this person didn’t I could never tell what they were feeling. It was truly recipe for disaster, and my idiot ass decided to hold one because of stupid BPD.

I had just recently started therapy, so I kind of did grow a spine. I fought back. I tried to reason with this person, make them understand how their actions hurt me. And then the worst thing happened. Their father passed away. Right in November, the 4th death in my life in this time of the year. They didn’t tell me. I found out through someone else. I spiraled. What now in hindsight I know as a psychotic break, I, to put it mildly, lost my shit. “This was all my fault. I did this. I did this to him.” I don’t remember much from this point on. All I remember is crying and begging in emails to this person to keep our friendship. To please just talk to me. I cried, I apologized, I was desolated. I indulged in different form of self-hurt (I will not mention any as I know they lead to vulnerable readers to do the same.), anything to cope. After a lot of back and forth and no apology in return, we did go back to being friends.

Life was seemingly normal, until it wasn’t. I went through something very traumatic. My whole life halted, shifted, crashed and burned down to a standstill. I again numbed out, not wanting to feel any emotion. At this point of time apart from paramedics, only 2 people asked me how was I doing. But I couldn’t speak, I chose to bury, I chose to be quite. And that was the worst decision of my life. I cried every single night after that for over a year. Whatever happened in this period of 18 months, heighted to limitless perception. I felt everything and beyond. Every fight, every slight, every fright, hit me with such might. And stopping medications improperly in midst of this chemical fire was like adding all fossil fuels to it. Of course now back home, the fights were more personal. They never happened in person, because still this person only ever spoke their true feelings in text. So one day it became too personal. As in they decided to come to my home, to talk or lecture me about being like this. I was furious, why a person who never wants to speak to me in person about what they really feel, is now suddenly going to start in person sessions of friendships 101. I didn’t sign up for this class. And when they came home, I cut back equally harsh. “Since you never talk to me in person you really think I’ll allow you to talk now. Hell no, I’m not talking to you irl. If you want fight or lecture me, do it over text. Sit on my bed and text me, but I will not talk to you about this even if I died.” Defeated that I was not letting this person have their way, they decide to silently protest. Which meant them taking my comforter, and covering themselves on my bed, silently just sitting there. I know they cried in there for a brief moment. I did care, I brought water. But at the same time I didn’t care, I was consumed by anger and grief. And I did whatever was keeping me in 1 piece. If they did speak that day, I know I would have lost it. I would have not listened, but there was a difference, I didn’t want to even give them the opportunity to speak. This person, whom I kept giving second chances, who continued to lie, continued to hide their partner, continued to berate me, was allowed to lecture me about how one should behave in a friendship. That was never happening. They always protested that no, I’m not that person, I’ve grown I’ve learned from my mistakes. But then why repeat it? I still even in this anger kept the friendship. Because if this relationship failed, means no one loved me in my life. I was always alone, and I can’t let that be true.

Things mellowed out after I was back on medication. I wasn’t getting as angry; I wasn’t getting as frustrated. I just had to adjust. If they don’t want to talk, then I’ll initiate the conversations. I know I told them I feel frustrated that they never initiate conversations, but I guess they don’t have the capacity to. As an only child, the priorities of people in their life surrounded around them alone. Their current partner also calls them 2-3 times a day. They never initiate any calls to them. This person likes being indulged, but will indulge themselves. I understand, I’ll adapt. After all I was the problem wasn’t I? Mind you I wasn’t the angel here. There were times I did outright ignored them, or dismissed their concerns. I distinctly remember them opening about being demisexual. I on the other hand felt snubbed. I just came out as asexual to my family 6 months ago, this person has been sexually active since forever. How in the hell are they demisexual? In reality I was just gatekeeping the asexuality, because I was feeling like someone else was taking away the queer role in our friend group. I should not have dismissed their queer recognition, people in ace spectrum already face a lot of patronization. Why was I continuing the cycle by being an asshole to them, instead of making them feel safe? I even said something along the lines of “you are just having good sex now, that’s why you feel even more attracted to your partner, that doesn’t make you demisexual.” With the combination of our repeated fights and my own internal struggles, I felt justified in dismissing their queer identity. This is the only thing I wished I did different.

But overall our friendship improved. We even went on trips together. We were now getting along; I even decide to join social media. I joined tumblr because of them, I now even downloaded Instagram after years of pestering from them. Then something changed. We both were primarily working from home at this point. They had reserved their weekends for their partner. So it meant they would meet us only on weekdays. This was not feasible for a third friend as they are working a normal corporate job. They would reach home at 10 or even at midnight. Of course they won’t have time to hang out with us or just kill time. So they started to have resentment towards this third friend, but never said it out loud. I too had some other issues with this third friend, and one day confronted them on group chat. We all aired out our grievances. It was done and dusted. But since they still couldn’t make time for us in the weekdays, they still felt snubbed. I advised them to tell the third again, but they refused to and just kept getting upset. And then the change happened. I too started working a corporate job. And I couldn’t make time on weekdays too. I still listened to them and hang out at the local mart as usual. But I wouldn’t walk home with them, as I was too tired. They again, never said anything in person. I still tried to keep the friendship still as engaging. “You know they never talk first, so you will have to initiate.” I kept the group chat alive. Until one day they exploded. They exploded how I love to live lie, when I can’t see the friendship is already dead. How I don’t give them enough time, how I’m always busy with work. How I’m always like this. I was blindsided. I was upset, yet again this person never talked about any of this and is suddenly over text yet again, airing out their grievances. I felt betrayed, I decided I need time. I told them I won’t talk to anyone for a week. Despite asking for time, they still messaged me in 4 days. The message was very condescending to me. So I thought I must be still angry, I read it to other people and they too felt uncomfortable. When message start with “I know you have a problem, so let’s go to your health provider together and sort that problem.”, all warning signs ring red. Are they still going to blame their lying by omission on me? Will I always be the problem? Is this person never going to take any accountability? When we met in person to discuss, they revealed that they actually met with my health provider in those 4 day’s time, without telling me. They said “your health provider also agrees that you are emotionally unstable and you can’t handle mature talking well.” I felt violated, my trust and my vulnerability violated as if it was nothing. I threatened to end the friendship, I didn’t want to talk to them for 6 months. They said okay sounds good to me let’s not meet at all then. I panicked, why are they so causal about possibly not wanting to see me? Are they not scared? Am I the only one petrified out of my wits? I pressed on “well that doesn’t change the fact you haven’t changed. You still fight over texts.” Their reply was “Yes I did start over text again. It wasn’t my intention to. I was going to tell you in person. But you know because you are like this, I had to spell it out to you then and there.” And I think this is where I finally gave up. This whole time, this person judged me. The whole you are like this, was not because I was in wrong. Regardless of my guilt this person saw me as a low life. The fact that I shared all of mental health struggles, they referred to all of it as this, and were using it a defense and reason to judge me. I could hold no longer. I smiled, I told them I’ll see them again later. But I went home and cried, cried as if I lost everything. It was the truth; I was always alone. I was unloved, and I always went for people that will never love me back.

I knew this person won’t end it. They have to be the good one in this relationship. So even if they hate me, they will still keep this friendship. What were their reason; honestly I don’t know. I thought a thousand times, why a person who doesn’t like me will want to be with me? They clearly don’t care if they won’t see me for 6 months, why bother with someone like me; someone like this. But I still held out hope. Maybe I will be proven wrong, oh please God let me be wrong. I typed a final message with 5 requests. That’s it, if they can answer those 5 with reassurance, I think we will make it. But instead all I got was hostility, and patronization. Every accusation I threw was thrown back at me with condescending remarks. I still kept my hopes up. We reached the 3rd request.

Are you okay with hurting me? Depends on your definition of hurt. Is it hurt that you are perceiving or is it just emotion you are labelling as hurt. We nee- It’s a yes or no question Yeah but the answer is not in binary. I am thinking on plane beyond that. You can ask me if you don’t get it; I understand you won’t. So if I did the same would it be okay? See I would evaluate why you did it; then think how I feel about it. And then process it as I go. So you would be hurt, was it okay for me to do that to you? Well as I said, I would evaluate your actions and then maybe think what happens next You are evading my questions ***, are you okay with the fact that you have hurt me and you think it is okay to do so? Well, you are labelling that emotion as hurt. We can objectively say you are hurt. I understand you feel hurt, but are you really hurt. I am living in this world as a being, for myself. In that process what you feel, I can’t do anything. So I – It’s a yes or no question, don’t evade me with philosophical bullshit To you this is philosophical bullshit, but it is my outlook right now. My therapist says this is a healthy outlook too mind you. I think that ….

And they kept on going. It was not even a no. I would have been less hurt if they outright said they didn’t care. But the fact that they denied even a semblance of responsibility took the wind out of my lungs. Again I do not want to judge this person, it’s a pure speculation on my part. But maybe it’s their defense mechanism, when they do something wrong or will be perceived as wrong by others they panic. They evade, they won’t take responsibility, won’t apologize, or won’t even acknowledge the deed. The lack of empathy for a person you shared more than half of your life felt staggering. I didn’t want to continue. And we were just on the 3rd request. I decided to end it, since they would never or else they would be the villain. And in 2 messages they said goodbye too. We ended it. This person, a person who I bared my soul to; I shared everything with; I had spent countless nights with; didn’t even have the courtesy to call. 2 messages were enough for them. I wish the story ended here. I truly wish. But they decided to drag my soul in ways other than messages.

A few weeks after while I’m still collecting pieces, I try to blend in with my other friends as if everything is normal. I told no one except 1 person what had happened. Then a friend casually browsing through my said, “hey why can’t I see their profile from your phone?” I thought, oh no they are ghosting everyone because of me. But then someone else replied, “hey her account is still here what are you talking about?” And then I grabbed my phone and checked. I realized, this person blocked me from everywhere. They blocked me. Again I was the problem. I had to be punished. I was the sinner. So they blocked me, as if I was running around berating them. I felt ashamed of myself felt right in that moment. But then I sat on it. Wait, why was I being punished? I didn’t do anything wrong, I didn’t lie I didn’t berate. Yet why am I being treated as I did the wrong things. I felt judged, I felt scrutinized as if I was a criminal. To make matters worse, I couldn’t go to any place where I made memories with this person. I went to parks went to stores and cafes. All reminded me of them. I started to avoid going outside even. But I still had to pretend everything was okay. Friends at gatherings would say things like “hey where is ***?”, “tell *** hi, we miss her why didn’t she come?”. What do I say to these people? Where can I go; where I won’t be condemned for being their friend.

And so this is my final introspection. I know I’ll be reminded of this person one way or another, but I cannot keep carrying a guilt that I am not even guilty of. This person lied to me, hid things from me. Berated me and violated my trust and medical information. Decided to turn on me as if I did all I stated before. Why should I be the one to suffer? Clearly they are leading a happy life without me. Don’t I deserve some happiness too? In this moment of introspection, I realize the so many slights done by them I forgave in the name of friendship. When my parent teased them I always scolded them, but when her father insulted me, they remained silent. I was never to disturb them during exams, but I was expected to adjust and still hang out with them during my exams. Places to hangout were always their preferences not mine. I adjusted by always eating vegetarian food with them, because they judged my non vegetarian food. I always knew what to gift this person, yet they struggled with gifting me on my birthdays. Every time we fought, I always tried to reconcile and get us back together, they always broke if off and didn't want to come back. It was becoming more clear, they were a hostage of my terror of being left alone. I would become a toned down version of me so as to not be judged by this person, yet they judged me regardless.

So I end this chapter in life with breaking the bond. I threw out everything attached to them, every gift I received from them, every memory we created together. Every message I sent, every email I sent and every letter I have left. Broke every single mug I have in common with them. Everything straight out of my life where it belongs. Even if this person where to say something to me now, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care if its and apology or a lecture. I have no love, no empathy, no kindness left for this person. Nothing will be enough, nothing can fill the void, it's heart lost, thrown in the sea of void. I don’t care, I am possibly at the end stages of my life, battling both mental and physically draining illness. Everyday needs to count. And I cannot waste it on a person who doesn’t spare me more than 2 messages. My languishing ends now. If I have to be alone for the rest of my life, I will. But I will be happy, at peace and not keeping up any façades. None of my friendships are taxing anymore, and I am liberated now.

[donutloverxo]

A Royal Scandal 2

Modern royalty au

(Image from Pinterest)

Cowritten with @lizzygal

I'm so sorry! I made a mistake while posting this yesterday so I'm reposting it now. Hope y'all enjoy💖

Note - Since y'all liked it so much we've decided to post this fic on both ao3 and my tumblr! There will be no taglists for this however💖 You can subscribe to the ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, Mentions of previous domestic abuse.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 8k

To be fair, Steven could understand why his mother was so upset after watching the entire footage from the royal steam rooms. He had a far better understanding after having seen the footage in question. The one that had led to his mother’s reaction that very morning.

Seated beside Carol on the ride back, he slipped in his wireless earbuds and pulled up the first video he found online on his phone.

A separate car had been sent for you for whenever your meeting completed. However, he had a whole series of his own back at the palace before his day could be considered over in the administrative offices. Days were never really over for him. Should anything happen somewhere in his nation, he would be informed. As was expected for a ruler.

Until then, he had fifteen or so minutes to kill till he arrived back at the royal palace, depending on city traffic.

Which was how he found himself watching what was obviously some sort of hidden camera. As the royal banya did not have CCTV cameras. Steve found himself making a mental note to himself to ask Carol about it.

After he watched the video.

He had the feeling that this would not be going away anytime soon. Therefore, he needed to know what was on there if he was going to have to defend his actions, or even speak about it.

It was somewhat surreal watching himself walk into view wearing nothing. Not even a towel. Talking with someone who was obviously you.

Based on where the camera was located, Steve could tell it was somewhere in the hallway that led from the steam rooms into either the showers or locker room. Thank all the saints above your back was to the camera. Half of it anyway. You were standing at a turn in the hallway, leaning against the wall. Half of you hidden. A towel wrapped around your body.

Thanking those saints above still that there was no sound, Steve watched on as a voice narrated the video, some celebrity blogger dissecting the footage as if it were a pivotal moment in some sporting event.

Steve watched himself turn to face you, facing the camera too and exposing his entire self to the world.

Not that he was ashamed. He had nothing to be ashamed about. Steve was built tall and powerful like his father and mother’s father. He kept himself in shape and as for the manhood that hung heavy between his thighs, he refused to be embarrassed by that either. The blogger however did have several opinions about what she referred to as, the royal sword.

She also seemed to be very opinionated when Steve watched himself kneel down in front of you. He’d never watched himself go down on you before and found himself transfixed, easily able to ignore the blogger’s excited rambling.

For once, Steve watched your hands sink into his hair as he sank between your legs. He watched your pleasure grow and grow, he watched you sag back into the wall and reach up, grabbing at it like a cat stretching out in the hot sun.

Seeing it happen like this? Steve felt like a voyeur. He felt like he was doing something wrong. And then, he watched you climax on his face. He watched your hands tighten up against the corner of the walls meeting. He watched himself stand and no longer noticed the commentary as he sheathed himself between your legs and proceeded to pound you into the wall without mercy.

His attention caught on one little inconsequential thing. Watching one of your legs that wound over his thigh bounce wildly each time.

Quickly he exited out of the video and blog. Unwilling to watch more. Pulling a bud from his ear, he glanced over at Carol who was watching the city fly by her window.

“Have you inquired as to if the palace guard has looked into how the video was taken in the royal banya?”

Blonde hair dusted her shoulders as she looked at her king. Carol answered without a second of hesitation. “Already done Your Majesty. The camera was found this morning. A webcam of some type. It’s been sent away for fingerprints and I have the best IT professional I know looking into it, to determine if we can track down who it belongs to. The royal guard has also launched an investigation into all palace employees.”

“Thank you,” he answered her with complete sincerity.

Captain Danvers had been at his side since he assumed the throne and had proven herself hundreds of times over. She was his confidant. She was his bodyguard. She was his closest thing to a friend, if Steve could say he had such a thing. He could tell Carol anything. He had told Carol about you. Carol had told him about her sick mother and in return, Steve have given her a cottage on palace grounds while providing a nurse. So that Carol would be able to spend as much time as possible with her mother in her final days. Carol still lived on the palace grounds in that cottage down by the gardens.

“I’ll let you know when I know something,” she assured him.

***

Your return to the palace felt like it took forever. Mostly because your panties were very obviously damp from leakage and you were greatly concerned about a wet stain. The modern equivalent of a scarlet letter. Letting everyone know what you’d done.

Twice you’d checked in a bathroom along with every mirrored surface you came across.

Alas, it seemed you were in luck.

No one would know that you’d had inappropriate contact on a workday, or think you’d had an accident. Granted if someone would have noticed you planned on blaming your monthlies.

By the grace of the many women who came before you, you managed to get back to the palace without being caught and were about to go change your panties when a familiar face popped into your office.

“Hey! You’re coming! I’m not taking no for an answer!”

Wanda.

Bright red hair and a brighter red dress that was far from office appropriate appeared in your office, leaping in like an acrobat leaping onto a stage. Making you look up from where you stood behind your desk, digging through your handbag.

A bunch of different thoughts buzzed through your head.

What was Wanda talking about? Where did she want you to go? Did Wanda wear that mini-dress to work? Cause it was about five inches too short and did downright sinful things to the girls. Wanda could always pull off anything. She looked amazing in clubwear, sweats and those tea-party dresses that Jackie O was always wearing.

“Coming?” Fell from your lips in a valiant attempt to stall till you could make sense of what was happening. “What are you not taking no for an answer for this time?”

In your roommate swept like a hurricane.

“It’s practically six!” She declared, as if that was supposed to mean something to you. It had you staring at her and waiting for more information. Hands paused in their hunt for clean panties and a pantyliner in your bag’o’stuff. “No more talk of this fake boyfriend. You and me are going to go have dinner. We’re going to hit the bars to pre-game and then to the clubs! Everyone is going so you are too!”

Such news had you freezing in your patent leather pumps.

Pre-gaming? Dinner? Clubs? Everyone?

How?

It was only Thursday and then you remembered.

It was a long weekend. The winning of some great victory over the Germans from the big war that you only kinda remembered hearing about. Mostly because you’d been busy with the border issue and the education overhaul. You’d known that it was coming up and the entire four-day weekend would be spent celebrating.

Wanda saw your face. She saw what you were thinking. She was practically a mind reader. Which led her to pointing at you scoldingly. “No! No no no! No checking emails or messages. No more work. No! We’re going out tonight and we are going to have fun! You remember what fun is? Right?”

But…you really did have emails and messages to check. You actually did have a ton of work to do. Granted you always had emails and messages to check, plus work piling up. It was the nature of your job. Helping in the running of a country was a 24/7 gig.

“Wanda…”

“Nope!” She declared, marching on into your office and behind your desk to chase you out. Shooing you. Literally making you hop away and grab your handbag because you just knew Wanda wasn’t letting you back near your desk. That much was for sure.

Like a sheepdog, she herded you around your messy desk as you attempted to protest, to get her to listen, to inform her that you really really did have a good bit of work to do.

“Wait…hold on…wait, Wanda…just one second…gah!”

“No more protests! I’m not going to hear it anymore! I refuse to let you hide behind work or the fake boyfriend.”

More protests came from you. You tried. You really really did. But Wanda was shoving and pushing and hip bumping you out into a hallway that did not look like an office building, instead, it was very obviously a palace.

Your heels clicked on polished white marble that shone. Walls were cream and had priceless art hung around, gold gilded borders ran up along where the ceiling met the walls. Light fixtures were old, bronze and cut glass. Furniture that belonged in Sotheby’s was sparsely decorated around the halls.

Door were old and creaky up and down the halls, wooden with locks that required big iron keys.

It was unlike any other place you’d ever worked.

You could feel and see and even smell the smokey history oozing from the walls.

A few people were hurrying out of their offices and locking the doors behind them, which Wanda didn’t even let you do as she went on indignantly. “No! Nope! Clint from Tinder will not wait forever! He digs foreigners and he has a job and he loves to dance!”

At mention of Tinder, your gut lurched.

Dear god not this again.

Why had you ever agreed to let Wanda make you a Tinder profile? At the time it seemed so reasonable. Let her make the profile and she’d get off your ass about your alleged imaginary boyfriend. Problem solved! How on earth were you to know she’d be on the damn app making matches for you?

“Why don’t you go out with Clint from Tinder,” you wanted to know, earning yourself a roll of Wanda’s eyes as you were dragged down along the hallway to the massive marble stairs. Looking as if they’d been carved from one piece, smoothly curling down a floor to the ground floor. Large chandeliers hung with cut glass that threw light everywhere. A massive painting hung up on the large wall of a long dead large royal family in the palace of past.

“He’s not my type. But he is absolutely your type.”

Somehow you doubted that.

Sighing deeply and focusing on not snapping your ankle on the stairs and in your heels, you followed Wanda down, mixing in with the few stragglers who were leaving work and making mental notes to text Steve and let him know you’d be late coming back to the palace that night. You were then planning when you could check your work emails and work-phone messages. That had to be done in a quiet place where no one could overhear. Maybe you could go out to the club and feign a tummy ache? Then sneak away from Clint? It’d probably be much easily to sneak away from Clint than Wanda.

Click. Click. Click.

With every step you maneuvered down your heels were noisy. You’d managed to fling your sizable bag over your shoulder and just knew Steve was going to be annoyed with you. But he was an adult. Being adults meant the two of you would have to do things that you didn’t want.

“So help me, if it kills the both of us, you and I will be going out tonight and having a fun time! This is a celebratory weekend! There are festivities going on all over the city!” Wanda went on, yanking you along behind her upon reaching the bottom step and heading in the general direction of the ground floor exits.

Hurrying along behind her, you followed but you weren’t happy about it.

God did you have so much work to do and you really really wanted to spend the night with Steve. And maybe if you gave in to Wanda, she’d get off your ass about your fake boyfriend? Wait, no, your secret boyfriend, because Steve was very real, you just didn’t want to be eviscerated all over the internet and tabloids for dating a king.

You’d seen what happened when a pretty actress had dated then married a prince who didn’t rule his country. The only thing you had going for you was Steve’s country was still looked at with some serious side-eye from the world, due to past events and rulers. Plus, he wasn’t a young prince that had grown up before the eyes of the world. He was a son of a tyrant, a citizen of a sizable nation the world still viewed suspiciously with a questionable human rights record.

“You’re going to love the club! It’s totally new and they open at ten. Meaning we can have plenty of time with the girls!”

Girls?

As in plural?

Because of course this would be a group event. Wanda never half-assed anything.

“Wanda…” you began.

Before Wanda could turn her attention on you, loud shrill lady screams came and you were greeted to the sight of Maria, Okoye and Pepper. All three threw up their arms and grabbed Wanda in a big hug, yanking her away from you and freeing you from her grip.

Loud girl screeches followed.

There was group hopping and hugs and laughter.

It should have made you realize that it’d been so long since you had a fun girls night. It should have reminded you that you were young and your life shouldn’t be all about work and sneaking off with your boyfriend whenever the two of you were able to.

Your heart should have been warmed by the sight of your palace coworkers who were clearly part of the aforementioned Girls.

How long had it been since you had fun?

How long had it been since you’d had a night out on the town?

What were you doing?

Were you jumping and screeching and hugging too?

No.

You were digging into your handbag so you could text Steve real quick. To let him know about your change in plans before he began to think you’d bailed because you were a coward and got cold feet.

Just as your fingers touched the smooth surface of your iPhone…

A noise caught your attention.

Movement.

Peering up to the side at the wall, or what you’d assumed was a hallway wall since you were in another hallway nearly identical to the one upstairs. All while the hugfest continued. You noticed that the wall was at a weird angle. As if it were opening up on a hinge and by the time you realized that the wall was actually an opening to a hidden passageway, a hand grabbed your elbow and yanked you in.

No more than a soft squeak came from you.

In you tumbled.

Into a dimly lit hallway that was actually a passageway you found yourself. With a metal sounding click the wall slid back into place and a big hand fell over your mouth. Making you immediately panic, immediately reach up to grab the hand that was silencing you. Making an arm band around your chest and pull you flush back against a broad muscular body.

“Did you honestly think for one moment that I would allow you to go get drunk with Wanda? Or go to a club with a man that she met for you on Tinder?”

Steve.

It was Steve.

His faint aftershave still burnt your nose but paired with the masculine scent that was him, you relaxed only a little bit, just a smidge.

How the hell did he know all of that? Had he bugged your office? Was he following you?

Deep in your chest your heart pounded wildly. Your skin was on fire. Even though it was dimly lit, you swore you could see each nail and groove in the wooden walls of the hidden passage.

Steve’s shoes were soft on the carpeted floor. Yours however never reached. Your legs dangled. Desperately you stretched out to try and reach your toes down, but alas, Steve was holding you up and was simply that much taller than you. Easily holding you up as he carried you.

His voice an angry snarl, a seething whisp against your ear. “That is so disappointing my love. A failure on both our parts,” came his angry voice. Walking with sure footing and a quick pace through the only barely lit halls.

Turning here and there, quickly and suddenly, until you were very much lost.

A protest came from behind his palm that was crushed against your mouth. Your blood heating with every passing second till it felt as if it were boiling. All that sudden fear was turning into anger at this treatment.

“I’ve clearly failed you if you’re unable to announce with nothing but the utmost certainty that you’re both in a relationship and have no desire to go out clubbing with whomever Clint from Tinder is.” The word clubbing was spat out, as if Steve found it vile on his tongue. “As for you? Yesterday we were discussing where to go for your birthday and today, you refused to answer one of my calls! You have work to do tonight to make up to me your behavior today!”

Further down the hidden passageway you were unceremoniously carried pulled to his front. Your brain racing at warp speed.

You had work to do? You had to make up for your behavior?

Had he lost his damn mind?

Had he not seen the video of his naked nether-regions all over the internet? Or the sex that made the footage a sex tape? The two of you were now amateur porn stars and he was mad that you? Because you were trying to be lowkey until the entire situation blew over? Steve was mad because you were being reasonable?

A most valiant attempt was made to free yourself.

You struggled. You kicked. You flailed and shrilled behind the hand over your mouth. No longer taken by surprise or frightened. Now you were growing angry.

On top of being terrified of being found out in that footage and ridiculed by the world, or worse, chased out of this country by a horde of angry people who didn’t agree with you being the kings choice as not only a foreigner, but one from pretty humble roots. You were upset that the world saw such an intimate moment between the two of you and even if Steve didn’t care that his junk was all over the internet, you cared. You cared a great deal. The royal junk was your junk. It was bad enough you had to know he’d dated women before you who’d seen him nude and were intimate with him, but now the world? It was simply too much for you to comprehend.

Steve slowed and turned, using his elbow he made something pop and a slight crack of light where there was obviously another hidden door in the wall appeared.

Using his broad shoulder, Steve pushed the door open and stepped out into a hallway that led down to the royal chambers and split off.

With his knee, he shoved the hidden panel shut and tightening his grip on you, Steve hurried down that hallway.

A completely different one from where the administrative offices were located.

Rich wooden paneling covered the walls. Making everything appear warmer, lusher. An amber haze hung in the air.

Thick carpet was underfoot. Furniture spoke to its age but had been made with a quality that endured. Like this palace. Built when his land was called something else but had stood through time in proof of his claim to the throne.

Generations before him had ruled, claimed spouses and lovers in these halls, grown old and made history and now it was his turn.

Merely that knowledge had him growing excited in his slacks for a second time that day. All of your thrashing and struggling didn’t help. If anything, it sparked a part of his brain that insisted he ravish and conquer you in his royal bed.

Mouth pressed to your ear, till he felt amber and diamonds press against his lips. “I swear, I will spend the rest of tonight inside of you until things are as they were yesterday. Until you remember that when I speak to you in any manner, you answer. Considering how thoroughly you’ve consumed every last part of me, it is only fair.”

And then, in his slowed pace down the hall ever closer to the door that would lead into Steve’s Royal Apartment, he saw a portrait up on the wall that made him pause.

It was him.

Or his portrait from when he’d turned thirty.

There he stood looking down at you both. Dressed ceremonially in his crown, holding the traditional ruling scepter and wearing the robes from kings of past. Fur, jeweled toned fabric that he’d easily filled out with gold adornments, amber buttons and pipping on his shoulders.

What was most striking about this portrait compared to all the others of Steven throughout the palace, was he was alone in it and unlike all the others, at the time, he’d not been single.

Further making that internal fire burn hotter.

Making him stop and force you to look up at it with him. Framed in a gilded bronze heirloom. Up where he had to look at it to be reminded of what could have been.

“Look! Look!”

You stopped struggling and looked, were well aware of his mouth against your hair.

“See? See it? You could have been there with me. At my side. Wearing my crown. Wearing the robes and jewels of my grandmothers. My queen.”

And indeed you saw.

When you’d seen the finished portrait, you had been blown away at how your body reacted to the sight of your lover in his traditional uniform he only pulled out for big special events. How powerful he looked. How sexy he was wearing a crown, holding a golden scepter with an eagle on the end clutching a piece of amber the size of an egg.

The arm around your chest fell so he could point at the empty space in the picture beside him. “Look. Right there. That is where you would have been. Right there. At my side.”

His hand over your mouth still held you flush against him. Pulled tight against him.

That thought, that entire notion of you painted on a portrait, up there with Steve at his side. It was so surreal to you.

When it was just you and Steve it was fire and gold and everything was amazing. When it was King Steve and his Chief of Staff it was stimulating and exciting. You still weren’t sure about being queen. A queen! That wasn’t like being a princess or a duchess. A queen was different. Even the word felt different.

It made your heart start to pound wildly in your chest again. It made you breathe hard against the back of his hand. It made you have a physiological reaction.

***

This was not how Carol intended to spend her night.

It was not how she wished to start her off-time. Having given Val the update on all things that had transpired for the day as she handed off command of the Royal Guard to her fellow captain.

No sooner had she told Val everything, did one of the messengers from communications come hurrying in. A slip of paper in her hand. A note that changed everything for that night, that week and even that month.

It had left Carol walking through the royal apartments towards the Queen Mother’s rooms.

As she knew exactly what King Steven was doing and quite frankly, she wanted no part in disturbing that unless she absolutely had to.

Besides. The message that had been sent to the palace via royal envoy was meant for Her Majesty. It was best Her Majesty the Queen Mother figured out how best to deal with this coming…situation.

Compared to His Majesty’s Private Rooms, Sarah’s were all light and brightness. White marble and ornate touches. Colorful priceless paintings and large bouquets of fresh flowers in crystal vases. Soft plush furniture held little personal touches. A white chenille throw draped over her couch by a fireplace. Pink slippers sat on the floor. Books both new and ancient with various markers holding her place were scattered about. Fresh flowers. She loved fresh flowers. They were everywhere.

As expected, the door to the Queen Mother’s apartments were open.

Carol still paused outside of it to knock gently.

“Your Majesty?” She called out, looking at her watch to see that it was nearing seven. Around seven was when the queen took her dinner meal privately. Of course she’d leave the door open for kitchen staff to bring up food as usual. It wasn’t one of the nights that was reserved for Steve and his mother to have their dinners together.

After the death of her husband the former king, Sarah had effectively thrown open all the doors that he had imprisoned her with.

Her soft voice drifted out.

Delicate and gentle.

The Queen Mother sat in a large chair by a big window overlooking the city. Her pale hair pulled back at the nape of her neck. A string of pearls tightened and loosened around her fingers as she lowered the book she’d been reading. A pleasant smile came over her soft features.

Upon seeing the stone of Carol’s face, the queen frowned. “What is it? What is wrong?”

Only confirming that something was wrong, Carol shut the door and locked it.

Dinner had been brought up. Smells emanated from the queens private dining room off to the left. It reminded Carol that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning. It had been that kind of a day.

Clasping her hands before her, she rocked back on her heels. “A message was sent by Her Highness Janet Van Dyne. She and her daughter will be at the palace tomorrow…”

Janet and Hope Van Dyne?

Steven’s former fiancée and her mother?

Two golden eyebrows rose, making Carol press on. “Her Highness is under the impression that they’ll be staying here? In the palace?”

All of this was new to Sarah.

She had not heard from Janet since Steve’s coronation. When she and her husband had been in attendance. Earlier that particular year, Hope had broken her engagement with Steven to run away with a Maharaja.

It’d been all over the tabloids.

A young princess of the Netherlands had broken her engagement to the crown prince of an incredibly traditional nation to follow her heart. Hope had spent many years splashed across tabloids and blogs with a handsome charismatic Asian Prince. She’d lost her royal title and gave tell-all interviews about how her family had forbade her from running away and how she’d never marry a man from infamous Rogers Royal Line. And then, oddly, she was back home with her family this year.

Sarah had found it unusual. Alas, she was a busy woman with a life of her own to keep her busy.

“Was anything else in the message,” Sarah wanted to know.

Carol shook her head.

It had been a simple message that was very to the point.

Sighing in a most un-Sarah-like sort of way. She set her book down on the arm of her chair and rose. Tall. Willowy. Pursing her lips. Her dress fell around her in a gauzy cloud.

“Do you want me to tell His Majesty?”

Pausing, the older women considered the question. Dare she tell her son? He deserved to know. Nothing good would come from this visit.

If it were Janet alone? Sarah would not be so suspicious. But Janet and Hope? And that they would come so last minute? After the release of this video footage from the royal sauna?

“Is my son with her?”

Silence.

Carol was quiet.

A noise came from the Queen Mother. A clicking of her tongue. Stepping into her slippers, she pulled the hem of her dress up. “I suppose I should not be surprised that you would keep this from me.”

More quiet came.

“I won’t ask. I’ll find out my own way and leave him be for now. Janet and Hope won’t be here tonight. This can be a problem for tomorrow, today has been difficult enough for us all. Let tomorrow be tomorrow.”

Let tomorrow be tomorrow.

On her other hand was her wedding band. A treasure itself. Now on the widow’s finger. It was so symbolic of the cage she’d lived in for the duration of her marriage.

Absentmindedly, she twisted the rings. “Have you eaten yet?” Pulling them up and down her hand. “I had hoped you would come. I had the kitchen bring up extra.” Off slipped the rings that she had to wear in public. In her hand they jingled until she set them down on a smoothly polished table.

With two heavy clicks, they bounced on the wood by a vase full of peonies. Freeing her for the time being.

“I missed you while you were away.”

A blush bloomed over her porcelain complexion at Carol’s words.

As she watched Carol lock the door to her chambers, a warmth bloomed within her chest. Such words were so simple. So honest. They were words she had not heard before in her life. In this new chapter however, in this new time in her life, she had become accustomed to kind words and compassion.

“I missed you as well.” She confessed, stepping closer and still keeping space between them. As some habits died hard. “Stay with me? Tonight?”

“There is nothing I want more, Sarah.”

***

As it turned out, now you were ready to talk.

However.

Unfortunately.

Steve was now past that point and was on a whole other page.

You found yourself protesting when he carried you into his bedroom like some manner of caveman would carry a slab of meat. Shrilling out when he yanked and ripped and tore at your dress, forcing it over your head after ripping fabric and popping buttons, till it was an unsalvageable heap of material and threads.

Which was an absolute tragedy.

You loved that dress.

You even pointed out that fact to him somewhere between the threshold of his bedroom and his massive bed that really was fit for a king.

It was so big!

A headboard wider than Wanda’s itty-bitty car was long. An elaborate collection of regal flourishes and shapes. Dark sheets so soft they were slippery awaited you as you screeched and hollered, letting out an outraged sound when your bra was popped then yanked roughly from you.

“Steven!” You admonished your king, toes digging deep into the thick carpet as you’d lost your shoes back in the hallway leading to his quarters.

This whole evening was going off the rails for you. There was no other way to put it.

Dim sconces on the wall lit the way. Highly effective mood lighting if you ever saw it. Allowing you to see the set in Steve’s face, the firm line of his mouth.

His fingers wrapped around the back of your neck so he could hold you close, ground out for your benefit. “All day long I tried. Calls. Messages. Texts. Did you want to talk? No. You ignored me. Now I do not wish to talk either.”

Pushing you forward, you found yourself stumbling but knew if you didn’t walk on your own, Steve would merely toss you up on his bed. Up on the sea of pillows. Framed by gilded silver and dark curtains that came down from above to allow for privacy.

“All day long you denied me. I’ll remind you what is mine until you’re thinking clearly again. Until we’re back where we were yesterday!”

“I’m ready to talk now! I’m in a place where I can discuss this with you! I am thinking clearly!”

Words were not needed.

Oh no.

Not when the king grabbed your hand, pulled your arm back and pressed your palm against his straining erection. Hot to the touch. Shockingly hard. Painfully so even you were willing to bet.

Your knees hit the bed and you were pushed forward till you fell over, till you wound up on the expanse of bedding in a tangle of hands and knees and that silky smooth material.

A big explosion came from Steve. Feeling like and you were flailing on your stomach, trapped beneath his oppressive weight and the bed. Fighting. Wiggling. Trying to get free from beneath him but bigger stronger arms had your wrists.

Something was being wrapped around your wrists that you couldn’t see, as your vision was impeded by the broad chest in your face. Right there. Blocking your line of sight. Pinning you down to the sea of grey until finally, finally, he was up and you were once more struggling, wiggling, jerking and finding that you were tied to the headboard.

You were tied to the headboard. You were naked and bound to his bed.

Silky fabric that was Steve’s tie bound your wrists snugly together and wove into the headboard, securing you there most soundly.

It was outrageous! It was absurd!

You were tied to his headboard!

It was a first for you.

When your gaze returned to your boyfriend and even that was now a bit questionable, you were greeted to the sight of Steve shedding his suit. Yanking off each garment without pause or care. A few tears were heard and he was far rougher than need be. A button or two may have flown off.

“You cannot be serious! That’s your plan? You’re going to take what’s yours? Are you serious? This is not the dark ages!”

Ignoring you, Steve shoved his slacks down his long legs. Allowing his rigid cock to bob obscenely. Causing an eyeroll to immediately come from you. A hint of something dark on his hip caught your eye. But it was only a flash and as he was moving, yanking off his suit jacket and fiercely ripping open buttons on his shirt, you couldn’t get a good look.

Was it a bruise? A tattoo?

Somehow you doubted kings were even allowed to have tattoos. Or that Steve even had the time to get himself permanently inked. When the hell did he get that bruise?

Momentarily distracted by him climbing up on the bed, you looked up to give your bindings a good hard yank.

No luck.

Steve’s weight was pushing you down. Shoving you into the bed. Pinning you down as you protested, implored and began to plea. Which was exactly what he wanted. After everything you had put him through today? You would beg. You would plead. You would forget all about that video.

“Open your mouth.”

It was an order.

It could be nothing less.

An absolute command that had your lips slowly parting as your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden treatment, this roughness. Steve held his painful erection in hand and pushed his tip to your lips. Pushed the red end of his cock sticky with precum past your lips. Till you were forced to open your mouth wider and wider for him. To take him deeper and deeper into your mouth.

Steve held your gaze and pushed his member in further. Straddling your chest and gripping his headboard in one hand, till it dug into his fingers. While his other hand grabbed your face to hold it tight.

You’d never be able to take all of him. He knew this. You’d never been able to no matter how much you’d tried. But he wanted to see how much he could fit in your mouth tonight.

“Don’t swallow. Don’t let me down again.”

Your mouth was so warm closing around him. Wet. Sacred. It made him want to close his eyes to sink in deep but Steve would not. He would do that soon enough. He would lose himself in your cunt soon enough.

A few small movements from his hips sank his cock deeper into your mouth. Filling your cheeks as you struggled. Until you found a motion of moving up and down his length, running your tongue along his sides. Wetting up his shaft till sloppy noises started to fill his ears and a small little dribble began to moisten the corners of your mouth.

Those blue eyes remained set on your own. Never once showing you mercy.

“Tomorrow. In the future. If I call or text, you will answer.”

There was no follow-up. Nor was it a question.

Long fingers that belonged on an artist or musician sank into your hair tightly.

All you could do was nod as drool rolled down your chin and you suckled his cock like you would a popsicle, without swallowing, sucking on his sensitive flesh as he liked and without the aid of your own hands to steady his member.

It was glorious and Steve could only slightly appreciate it. As the words that fell from his mouth were more important, more vital.

Feeling how wet your mouth was getting was fantastic. Absolutely. Your nimble tongue was a gift. No one had ever sucked his cock like you.

However…he was still frustrated, still angry, still hurt even.

He’d not worked his way through those feelings as of yet.

Perhaps? In your body?

Those feelings teased and taunted him with his unworthiness. Of how you hadn’t been firmer with your roommate. How you had allowed her to drag you down the stairs for a night out with possibly another man? It infuriated him. It sent his hips rocking into your mouth. It had his cock rubbing up along the back of your throat and made your eyes water.

No.

Steve would not lose you. He loved you too much to even entertain such a notion. No. Infact, he would make sure that he ruined you. By the end of the night, he would make certain that you’d never even amused the notion of being set up. He would be completely sure that when you left his chambers come morning, you would never be doubted when you told Wanda or anyone that you had a partner.

“I want to start publicly courting you. I want to be engaged this year. I do not want to hide any longer. When people look at you, I want them to know that you belong to me.”

Noises came around his cock that Steve knew were words and he did not care.

“Look at yourself.” Steve stilled, his words harsh, bitter even. “You have my cock in your mouth and I am completely at your mercy. Tied to the bed of kings because I cannot go one night without dreaming of you, fantasizing about your tight cunt and smooth skin. I would give you the world and all you want is nothing. You are the worst type of infuriating.”

As if to prove his point, he steadily pumped his pelvis up into your mouth. Each slide in pushed saliva and pre-ejaculate out, making it ooze from the seal of your lips around his erection. Against your throat his wet balls bounced. His ass rested on your chest and he could not get enough. More. He wanted more. He needed more. Craved more.

The urge to go harder was strong.

Steve wanted so badly to fuck you. To make you feel how much you drove him mad. How you caused him physical pain from longing alone.

With drool smeared down your chin and neck, never looking more beautiful in his opinion, Steve pulled his dick out. Done with your mouth for now. Needing more. Needing to grab your tits and to be closer to your face, looking closer into your eyes.

In a familiar sort of way, your throat bobbed.

“Did you just swallow when I specifically told you not to?”

A moment of hesitation followed from you that had Steve gripping your face, easing his body down yours but holding your slippery chin tight in his grip. Your eyes were wide. Again, probably without even realizing, you swallowed in nervousness.

“I’m…I’m sorry…”

“I’m sorry what,” he demanded, leaning down closer, licking the wetness from your chin and earning from you a most satisfying shiver that wracked your body.

“S-s-sorry, Your Majesty.”

His tongue was hot and wet on your chin. His body was heavy and hot on your own. Skin on skin contact made your brain short circuit. It was a miracle you could string those syllables together. With your hands bound so snugly to the bed. All you could do was take it. Take what he gave you.

Feeling him push your thighs open and position himself between your hips made you gasp. Words failed you.

And then words didn’t even matter because he was pushing into you. Claiming you. Taking what was his because you did belong to him. You belonged to him in every possible way.

A scream exploded out of you when he dove right in. Sank in till his crown was pressed up against the wall of your cervix. Deeper than anyone had ever been before. Hands were grabbing your ankles and spreading you wide. Spearing you on his cock. Stretching your body taut.

“So wet. You were made to take me. Made to take your king.” He whispered more to himself even though you heard. You would have heard a pin drop. You could hear your heart pound and blood rush through your ears, each gasp your lungs took. You could feel every last inch of him deep inside your core. Painfully stretching you open like this. Burning. Tingling. Twisting.

Hands tightened on your ankles till you looked up at Steve. Hovering over you like a pillaging warlord about to ravish his prize.

“You have till Monday to decide how you wish us to become public. I will not wait a day longer.”

Seeing you like this before him. Splayed out. Your pussy curled around his member, plump from being filled with your breasts round puddles up on your chest. It set his hips into a frenzy. Powerful thrusts were sent into your tight walls that made Steve grunt every time from the power behind his motions, from the sight of his cock vanishing up into you. Watching your pussy take him so hungrily as you cried out beneath him each time. Breasts swaying. Skin slapping on skin with the contact. Your hips jiggled, his headboard creaked, his balls slapped soundly against you both.

“Say it. Say the words to me. Say them!” Steve commanded you. Pieces of his hair falling and sticking to his sweaty forehead as he sank in to the very depths of you then pulled out, revealing a glistening shaft before slamming his member right back in where it belonged.

“Yes…yes…yes…yes…” you chanted, over and over, again and again with every thrust in, every withdraw that was like heaven and hell, your body needing him to complete this circuit only the two of you could create. “…yes…yes…my king…yes my king…”

Those words. They were a song to his ears and had your ankles slapped together. Those words had the backs of your thighs slapped wetly against his chest, your feet touching his shoulder as Steve continued to pound into you.

Pumping into your now closed thighs, into your tighter walls at this angle.

“Look!”

Dimly your eyes fluttered, you looked into his burning blue eyes.

“Look. Here.”

You followed his gaze to where he pointed, looking down at his pelvis, where his hip met his abdomen in that hard cut of muscle that was visible above his beltline. The one you loved to lick.

He did have a tattoo.

It took you a second to realize what you were looking at and focus, as his thrusts continued without mercy, pounding away, slamming into you without mercy. Shaking and pushing you into his bed.

Your writing was inked into his skin. Your very own signature.

Your name was forever scrawled into Steve’s skin and then, it hit you. Your climax took you by complete surprise. Your entire body went stiff. A pained noise came from you and you shattered all around his cock. Fingernails dug into your palm and you stared at your name in cruel ecstasy.

Steve fell too. You could tell from his thrusts getting wild, falling out of sync. You could tell because he swore out, clenched his face and held your thighs tight to his chest.

Pumping deeply into you while your body milked him for everything he had to give.

Making him merely a man in that moment with you.

Up on his headboard, you were tightly secured and would soon have bruises from arching up against the silk tie restraining you. Unable to do anything but feel and accept what your king was giving you. On your back. In a bed that past kings had slept in.

None of which was lost on you.

Not as your body felt leaden, filled with molten hot lava. Limp. Your secret garden continued to suck him in, clench around him and spasm, making your eyes roll up in your head, your body dig into his bed and words fall from your mouth.

In a most dignified sort of manner, your king humped into your body like a jack rabbit, chasing the last vestiges of his climax with coral wet lips and dark honey hair now damp with sweat.

A sight for your satiated eyes.

“Let me call my mother in the morning.” You breathed out slowly, as if figuring out how your lungs worked once more after a marathon. Your words making Steve still above you. Though your cunt did not. It twitched around his royal girth and you met his gaze from on his pillows. “Tomorrow you can have Maria release a statement saying whatever you want. Just let me tell my parents myself. They should hear from me that I’m not coming home.”

Whatever wind that may have held up his sails had clearly been withdrawn.

Almost tenderly now, Steve leaned forward to quickly loosen the silk around your wrists and free your hands from his headboard. Stretching out his long powerful body above you. Flushed red now. Glistening. Though he left his tie there. He remained inside of you too. Filling you and stretching you full.

Gently, he pushed your legs down until they wrapped around him and he was able to rest his weight most carefully on top of you. Pressing wet kisses to your nose, your cheeks and chin. Worshipping your face with delicate touches and caresses.

“I’ll fly them out here whenever you want. When we get back from Switzerland, I’ll have them waiting for you.”

Softly you answered, reveling in his softness now that your body had been given her reward, her treat, her pleasure from his roughness. Smelling the musk of his sweat and feeling the wet glide between your bodies.

Leisurely, your hands found their way up his muscular arms to his shoulders. “You know what I mean. I won’t ever be their daughter again. I won’t ever be Wanda’s roommate. I’ll have to quit my job. Nothing will ever be the same.”

Those words, well, they settled uncomfortably in him.

All of them were true.

You would be giving up so much. He would have to make sure to take care of you even more so, keep a closer eye on you. He would need to have a talk with his mother come morning.

“That’s true,” Steve softly conceded, rubbing his nose along your own. Barely grazing his lips over yours. A hint of a tongue touched you before his breath danced over your mouth. “We would be together though. Finally together. You. Me. Not hiding anymore.”

Speaking of hiding.

That word alone had you pulling away from his mouth to lean to the side, to get a look down at his Adonis belt. At the alluring groove that led down to his pubes where your name was now in black.

Nay, your signature.

As if sensing what you were after, your boyfriend tilted up a smidge. Enough for you to see but not enough for him to leave your body. Pray tell that couldn’t happen.

“When did you do this?”

“Do you like it,” Steve asked, as if your opinion mattered. Which was laughable considering how permanent it was.

He’d literally took your signature and had it tattooed on his body.

“Of course I love it. Now you have a part of me on you all the time.” An incredibly modern take on Steve’s royal jewel gift thing, but in reverse you thought. Then grinned as it sank in. “I can’t believe you did it though.”

Why wouldn’t he have done it?

Steve hadn’t thought twice when Maria had gone on about getting her late mother’s writing tattooed on her side, in a lasting forever tribute. Having your writing on him at all times had been an idea that hadn’t left him. Not until he’d had a tattoo artist praised for their work brought to the palace late the other night.

He wasn’t even going to lie, king or not, there was something downright satisfying about having something like this hidden on his body from all. Known only by you and him. A secret only for you two.

Bringing him right back to the thought that the biggest secret the two of you shared would soon be out.

Soon it would be public knowledge and that had Steve brushing his fingertips over your cheeks, kissing the swell of your cheekbone and moving ever just so to make a small moan come from you. “You’ll never regret this. I’ll love you for the rest of my life. I’ll devote myself to making you happy. You’ll never regret becoming my queen.”

[zodiakuroo]

Un(holy) Trinity

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader x Shigaraki

Content: 18+ dubcon/noncon, threesome, manhandling, rough sex, corruption, degradation, humiliation, breathplay, stepcest, breeding, blasphemy and sacrilege, elements of mindbreak and god complex (?) 

Word count: 4.1k

Notes: my first threesome and idk how to feel about it but here it is! If it’s bad I can blame it on the fact that I just had my wisdom teeth extracted and am currently in a world of pain :) also i’m on bedrest and incredibly bored so if anyone has requests or thirsts or just wants to chat... yeah

also if this banner is shit i’m sorry i rushed and made it on my phone cause i just rly wanted to to post

This is part 2 to my other fic Love Thy Brother which you can read here 

Now the serpent was more cunning than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made. And he said to the woman, “Has God indeed said, ‘You shall not eat of every tree of the garden’?” - Genesis 3:1

Twelve days.

Twelve days since you lost your virginity.

Twelve days since you lost your virginity to your step-brother, no less. 

The night that it happened, you lay awake in your bed dreading the aftermath of the horrific incident. How could you face him again? How could you face your family? How could you face God? 

You were too cowardly to face the rest of your household. The Todoroki family welcomed you into their home only for you betray them by sleeping with Touya. Ever since you were little, your mother would say she had a sort of sixth sense that meant God would always tell her when you’d been up to mischief. It sounds silly but there was no explanation for how she would always catch out in lie or know things that you never told her. You feared she would take one look at you and know the sin you committed. And so you chose to make yourself scarce, taking extra shifts at work and choosing to study at the campus library rather than at home. Your siblings seemed to notice how busy you suddenly were, often remarking how they missed you around the house. That just made you feel more ashamed. 

As for God, you felt like you needed to do whatever necessary to prove your faith. You wanted Him to know the extent of your shame and remorse. You were weak in spirit, making you an easy target for someone as devious as Touya. You prayed and begged for forgiveness until your knees hurt but no matter what you did, the guilt was inescapable. You realized it was because, irrespective of the regret and remorse you felt, you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed what happened. You liked the way Dabi made you feel and you hated yourself for it. But no matter how much you liked it, something like that could never happen again. As penance, you banned yourself from bringing your hands anywhere near your groin. After all that temptation is what brought you to this point in the first place. But the thread of your self-control is thin and withered so at night when you’re certain everyone is asleep, you’re humping your pillow like an animal and biting down on your lip trying to keep from moaning his name. At least you weren’t touching right? 

Dabi, by some God-given miracle, made himself scarce as well. It wasn’t uncommon for the noirette to disappear for days at a time doing heaven knows what only to arrive back at home like nothing happened; so no one really questioned his absence. Perhaps he  felt the same way you did and was avoiding facing you and the other Todorokis.

Yeah right. 

Shame? Todoroki Touya doesn’t know the meaning of the word. 

In any case, you had become used to a Dabi-less house and so lulled into a false sense of safety, slowly but surely reverting back to normal. That’s why as you make your way downstairs, prepared to go to your church, the sound of gunfire and explosions from the living room doesn’t alarm you. Probably Natsuo or Shouto playing one of their video games, you thought. But when you get to the bottom of the stairs you’re met with unmistakable dark locks. Not just him. The back of another person’s head, one with pale blue, shoulder length hair. Before you can stop yourself, you let out a gasp. Neither of them react, seemingly too focused on their game. You don’t waste any time feeling relieved, choosing instead to make a silent escape. 

You could only dream of being so lucky. 

“Oi!” Your step-brother calls without turning around. He hasn’t seen you, you think. If you move quickly you can still get out of this. “I know you heard me, brat. Get over here before I drag you over here.” He still doesn’t bother to turn around but the sharpness in his tone lets you know that you’d be smart to listen. You take a second to steel your nerves and make your way over to the couch, trying your best to look as intimidating as possible. You scowl at both men but they are so engrossed in their video game, they don’t even acknowledge that you’re standing right there. “Aren’t you gonna say hi? We have company.” 

We?

The company in question is Shigaraki Tomura. He’s been to the house before although he’s never even so much as glanced in your direction, too busy with his phone or playing games with Dabi. Despite your hard expression you can only manage a meek “Hello Shigaraki.” 

He responds by finally looking at you, with a sleazy grin, a pair of crimson eyes, surrounded by creases meet your own. “Sup.” 

Beer cans litter the coffee table, one of them being turned into a makeshift ashtray while both have smouldering cigarettes perched between their lips. “You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.” 

“You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.” Dabi mocks you with a nasal voice. 

You simply roll your eyes, not interested in continuing this interaction any further.  “Whatever. I’m leaving now.” You state with as much firmness as you can muster. You spin on your heels but are kept in place by long, slender digits wrapped around your wrist. 

“Where are you off to anyways?” The game paused, both boys now looking at you. 

Out of habit, you answer truthfully. “Bible study.” 

Shigaraki and Dabi burst into raucous laughter. 

You should have lied. 

“Nah you’re gonna hang out with me and Shigaraki for a bit.” 

“Dabi, I have to leave.”

“You don’t have to do anything except what I tell you and I’m telling you to sit.” 

Before you can protest you’re being hauled on to the couch, squeezed between the two of them. 

“Nice necklace.” Tomura snorts, hand reaching out to grab at your crucifix but you swat it away. His gaze is unnerving. It makes you wonder if- no. He promised he wouldn’t. 

Just like that, their game is resumed, as if you were never there. A few rounds pass, no words exchanged between either of them, only curses muttered under their breath. “Dabi, can I please go. I’m bored.” 

Wrong choice of words. 

“You hear that Tomura? The princess is bored.” His fingers are still moving rapidly over his controller. 

“Really now? Come on then Todoroki, let’s show her a good time. I’ve seen how she likes to have fun.” 

His comment on your necklace suddenly makes sense, but you still can’t believe it. “You didn’t…” you whip your head back to look at Dabi. 

”Sorry doll, you made your Nii-san so proud, I just had to show you off.” Dabi smiles shamelessly, lighting himself another cigarette. 

“You’re fucking sick Touya.” Tomura says, however his tone is not one of disgust but rather of admiration. 

“You promised...” Your voice breaks. You’re humiliated beyond belief. 

Both of them laugh at you again, discarding their controllers. “Told you, it’s adorable how stupid she is.” Dabi remarks to his friend, as if you’re not sitting right next to them. 

You try to force your way off the couch but get pulled into Dabi’s lap, one of his arms hooking around both of yours, securing them behind your back. You squirm in his arms but he stills you with a hard slap on your inner thigh. “Be good okay? Don’t embarrass me.” He nuzzles into your neck. 

Shigaraki flips up your dress exposing your white lace panties. He runs his thumb up and down your clothed slit, he fabric slowly becoming even more transparent. One severe jerk to the top of your dress and the straps are torn clean off, revealing the matching bra. “Yo, Touya. I thought she was a good girl.”

Dabi peers over your shoulder to get look. “Who’s all this for babe? You screwing the preacher or something? Or were you hoping I’d do something like this?” He tugs down your bra until your breasts are spilling over the top of it.

“Dabi…” Your choke on your plea when he sinks his teeth into your neck. He bites down so hard you’re positive he’s left a mark.

“Who?” 

“T-Touya-nii.” You whimper. 

“Better.” 

Your destroyed dress is discarded somewhere across the room and you find yourself on your hands and knees with Shigaraki kneeling on the couch in front of you and Dabi behind you. 

“Go easy on her alright Tomura. It’s her first time sucking cock.” He chuckles. 

Your eyes go wide. “Wait...” you mewl but neither pay you any mind.

“And you.” Dabi yanks a fistful of your hair. “No teeth. No puke. Or I’ll let my boy ream your little ass as punishment.”

“Yeah. What he said.” Shigaraki mutters, pulling his semi out of his sweatpants, rubbing his tip against your lips. His is not as scary as your step-brother’s but him staring down at you like this, makes him seem every bit as intimidating. 

Pre-cum dribbles from the swollen tip. You’re not entirely sure you want that in your mouth but you’re also not sure if you have a choice so you open up hesitantly. 

Dabi’s right. It is your first time doing something like this. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do but as it turns out you don’t have to do much, not with the way Shigaraki starts thrusting his quickly hardening member into your mouth.

“Move your tongue slut.” The man in front of you grunts. You do your best despite the heavy intrusion to obey his command, moving from side to side, swirling around the head when he pulls out of your mouth. He looks down at you with cruel vermillion eyes, panting as he strokes himself in front of you, spreading your saliva across his shaft before sliding deep into your mouth again.

Behind you, Dabi spreads apart your cheeks, squeezing the flesh in his calloused hands. “Remember what I said. Be good and I’ll give you a reward.” He pulls your panties to the side and lets out a whistle at the sight of your dripping slit. “She’s enjoying it. Make her take it deeper.”

You can’t possibly fathom how much deeper he can go when his head is already nudging at your tonsils. You try to swallow the saliva building up in your mouth, making your cheeks hollow out around Shigaraki’s shaft. Seems like that was the right thing to do as his hand flies to the back of your head. “Shit. Shit. So good.”

Dabi’s breath wafts over your pussy. He spreads your lips apart and you feel his hot tongue lick up the juices leaking from your hole. You squeal around Tomura’s dick. You want to pull off but his spindly fingers hold your head in place.

“Told you angel. Good little sisters get rewards.” With that he takes your clit between his lips and suckles on it gently while one of his fingers circles your entrance. Knuckle by knuckle he slides into you, making you keen. You arch your back trying to shift your hips backwards against his hand, silently urging him to find that special spot he showed you last time. He establishes a loose rhythm. Hot wet muscle and cold metal of his piercing circles the sensitive bundle of nerves, before applying suction while his fingers work you open.

The sensation is overwhelming, a form of heavenly torture and your thighs quiver barely able to hold you up while you use your last bit of mental strength to focus on suppressing your gags. That mental strength all but evaporates when the digits inside you graze that rough patch embedded in your walls. It’s so pleasurable your reflex is to run from his fingers. Luckily for Shigaraki, that means you move forward, taking him further into your mouth.

“This where you want me? This your spot, angel?” Dabi taunts you. Shigaraki holds you in place while two of your step-brother’s fingers drill your cunt, hitting that spot over and over again. Garbled moans and cries leave your mouth and reverberate around Tomura’s cock, proving to be too much for him ultimately. 

“Shit Stop!” Don’t wanna come yet.” He pulls out your mouth so that a string of your drool drips down to your breasts.

“God! Touya-nii!” You sputter out.

“Still with the God shit?” He uses your hair to force you to look at him, neck twisted at an awkward, uncomfortable angle. “God ever make you feel this good?” His fingers thrust into you harder. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire.

“Ngghh-N-no –oh! Oh!” is your incoherent answer.

Dabi forces you back down, shoving you face first into the cushions. “See? Fuck him. Give up on god. Give up on everyone except your big brother cause no one else can make you feel this good.”

You’re so pathetic. The way you’re rocking yourself in unison with the motions of his hands. The way your tongue hangs out of your mouth, impeding any sort of intelligible verbal response. The way you’re mindlessly nodding along to whatever filth is coming out of Dabi’s mouth.

“C’mon Touya. Turn her around. Wanna try out that sweet pussy you’ve been bragging about.” You’re reminded that you aren’t alone. No, your brother’s best friend is right there to witness exactly how pathetic you are.

“Yeah in a minute. I’m still having my fun.” Dabi answers, face pressed against your mons before working you with his mouth once again.  

“Man! Come on!” Tomura whines.

 “I said in a minute.  Not my fault you can’t last.”

It’s amazing how they can bicker like this right now, as if you aren’t on your hands and knees for them, gummy walls still pulsing around his fingers. However, it’s not long before Dabi’s focus is back on you taking you to the brink of orgasm. He slows his fingers, keeping you balanced on that razor thin edge. “Should I make you cum angel?” His voice is dripping with fake concern. “Dunno… what’s in it for me?”

“Anything! Touya-nii please!”

“Anything? You gonna obey me? Do whatever I say like a good little angel? You gonna worship me?” You can’t tell if he’s being serious or if he’s mocking you.

Probably the latter. And you deserve it too.

Your faith was the thing you deemed more important than anything and anyone else but Dabi, all too easily, convinced you to disregard that. Made you lose all sense and give into lust by showing you mindblowing pleasure, only magnified by your awareness of how deeply sinful this all was. That’s the extent of the power he has over you. The story of Adam and Eve is one you know forwards and backwards and yet you were so easily tempted forbidden fruit and left completely corrupted.  Yeah, he’s definitely mocking you.

“Any- fuck- anything” You’re wiggling your ass, goading Dabi into finishing you off

“Cum in my mouth. Angel, give it to me” That’s the final straw. You explode around his fingers. Despite your walls, clamping around him, he manages to piston into you, hitting that squishy spot with astounding accuracy. His unyielding stimulation makes it feel as though the high won’t end. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Eventually, it does end though, his fingers drag out against the pull of your swollen pussy. He licks you clean making sure he gets every last drop of your cum, both inside and out, on his tongue. The ball of his piercing catches onto your rim making you yelp. He soothes the sting with gentle laps of his tongue.

“Tastes so sweet angel. So sweet knowing I’m the only one to ever fuck this pretty pussy.” He snickers before adding “So far.”

“Yeah, can I fuck her now?” Tomura was turned on before but seeing the way you fell apart at the hands of your brother? His minimal patience has run out. All he can think of now is being inside you.

 “You heard him babe. Turn around.” He spanks your ass. You try to turn around but thanks to your shaky legs you nearly fall off the couch. Dabi catches you before that happens and he dutifully sets you up on all fours, held up by quivering limbs. You hear heavy breathing from behind you as Shigaraki taps his head against your puffy clit while you twitch in place.

“She wants this so bad. Had no idea your Christian little sister was such a whore.” Shigaraki mutters. He holds you still as he buries himself in you, breathing becoming more erratic with every inch until his hip bones are digging into your soft flesh. He’s so deep. You feel so full. You squeeze shut your eyelids, savouring the stretch. 

Calloused fingers press into your jaw, making your eyes shoot open. “Pretty angel, did you forget about me?” Dabi looms over you, making a show of spitting in his palm and using it to stroke himself. He slips his thumb into your mouth, pad pressing down on the plush pillow of your tongue. “Gonna stuff you nice ‘n full angel.” All you can do is blink up at him with teary eyes, pupils blown wide with desire. 

Shigaraki begins thrusting into you, hips moving at a brutal pace. Dabi isn’t far behind him, replacing his thumb with his cock and you don’t waste time waiting for him to tell you what to do. You close your lips around his shaft, engulfing him in the wet heat of your mouth.

Unlike his friend, Dabi starts off slow. His piercings drag across your tongue and you taste metal and the salt of his pre-cum. It takes some time for you to get used to taking him in your mouth, the jewellery an added obstacle. 

You feel so full. 

Shigaraki is bottoming out with every thrust, it’s so lewd the way it makes you squelch around him. Dabi’s shaft is rubbing your throat raw and still, you make an effort to take him deeper. He keeps one hand on the back of your head while he fucks you mouth.

He looks so ethereal, so euphoric, letting out little moans and whispered expletives. The sounds he makes are divine, so heavily contrasted by everything you know about him. It leaves you star struck. He recognizes the adoration in your eyes and responds in kind with a cocky smirk. He remembers how you looked at him when you first met. Disdain and judgment. Now you look at him like he’s your only salvation. 

It’s sad actually. How you’re so desperate for someone to tell you how to live. And what a sweet, adoring little follower you are. Wasted on religion if you ask him. So soft and pliant, perfect for your big brother to mould and corrupt into his personal fuckangel. 

“Angel, Nii-san’s gonna fill you up. And you’re gonna take it yeah?”

Your whole life you aspired to this holy standard of perfection in the hopes of escaping eternal damnation. But you’re beyond absolution now.

“All of it down your throat.”

It’s okay though.

If heaven doesn’t feel like this, you’re not sure it’s worth all the effort to get there. 

He holds your necklace behind you like a leash, twisting it around his fingers. Between the way he’s basically strangling you and the way your swallowing muscles contract around his cock means that you’re not getting much air into your lungs. Your head is spinning, from being both oxygen deprived and cock drunk.

“Your God doesn’t want you anymore.” The clasp snaps and he dangles the charm in front of your face. The mould of Christ nailed to the cross taunts you.  What was once a symbol of divine love and God’s boundless forgiveness and sacrifice is just a reminder of how far you’ve fallen into depravity, creaming around Shigaraki’s cock as he ruins your cunt while your Nii-san claims your throat “You’re filthy.” Touya sneers at you as he holds himself in your throat, watching you cry and choke around him. “Dirty fuckin angel.” He grunts as he floods your mouth with the taste of his cum. It’s not exactly pleasant but you try to swallow it all down. There’s just so much. That means he’s pleased with you right? You want him to be pleased. Good girls get rewards he said 

“It’s okay.” He muses as he pulls out of your mouth. “You have me. I’m better than God and I Iove you when you’re nasty like this.” He empathizes his point by dragging his wet, softening cock across your face. “Nii-sans perfect little angel.”

It’s so pitiful how the small praise makes your heart bloom and makes your hole flutter.

You’re coughing up Touya’s cum while your body shakes with Shigaraki’s thrusts.

“What about me hm? I’m fucking you. What? You don’t like it?” Tomura’s going harder now, determined to get his fair share of your attention.

“Shig-Shigaraki – shit. Slow down!”

You’re ignored by both of them once again. If anything, Shigaraki starts fucking you harder

.”Yo’ dustpot. You better pull out. That hole still belongs to me.”

The warning falls on deaf ears, Tomura is too far gone. “So warm, she’s squeezin’ me. Fuck. Fuck.’’ No thoughts, just your tight cunt.

“Gonna do whatever I tell you?” Dabi’s talking to you now, cerulean eyes boring into yours.

You nod still staring at him with absolute devotion.

“Touya-nii’s will be done? Huh? Has a nice ring to it.”

When you don’t respond he grabs you by your cheeks forming an open mouthed pout. “Say it.”

“Touya-nii’shhh will be done.” The words come out distorted but he’s satisfied

“Oh yeah? Then be good angel slut and come on his cock for me.”  

You’re pushed over the edge, coming for the second time. Your walls clamp down around him as you sob out both their names in the form of incoherent babbling. It hits you as hard as the first one. You’re so caught up in your high you barely register the vice grip on your hips, the frantic humping against your ass. “Tight. Fuckin tight! Gotta breed! Breed this fucking hole.”

His hot, sticky cum floods your walls with, your throbbing cunt milking him for everything he’s got. He ruts against you a couple more times before removing himself completely.

You hear the familiar click of a camera. He’s sorry (not really) but the sight of your fucked out hole leaking globs of your cream and his cum was too hot for Shigaraki to not add to his spankbank. 

��Thanks for that little sis.” Dabi is resting on the couch, head thrown back smoking a cigarette.

“Yeah thanks sweetness.”  Both men, tuck themselves back into their pants

Everything feels so surreal. You cautiously move you hand between your thighs. Feeling your sore abused cunt in an attempt to grasp the reality of what happened.

Wait a minute. 

It’s too much, that too sticky to be just your arousal down there. The more you squeeze, contracting your pelvic floor, the more it seems to seep out of you. 

“You… You came inside.” You murmur as your eyes well up with tears. Whatever daze you were in seems to be broken by this revelation. Instead it’s replaced by fear of what the consequences of this might be. 

Dabi smacks his friend upside the head. “You fuckin’ dumbass. I told you not to.”

Judging by his grin, Shigaraki doesn’t register the insult. He’s too busy basking in the afterglow. “Aw, don’t cry babe. You were gripping me so tight, I thought you wanted it. ‘S’okay, your Nii-san will get you a plan B”

“Fuck no. That’s your jizz inside her.” He scowls, eyes focused on the cum that’s leaking out of your spent pussy.

“C’mon Dabi don’t be like that. I’m broke right now.” Shigaraki pleads.

Touya huffs and rolls his eyes.  “You can get yourself a morning after pill right? Tomura will pay you back.”

“Yeah babe. I promise.” He gives you a dopey smile.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s lying. Yeah, you know better now. You just nod as you pull up your panties, cringing at the sticky, wet sensation against your cunt.

 “Me and Tomura are heading out. Make sure you clean all this up before anyone gets home.”

“B-but Touya-nii-“ you snivel.

“No buts. Clean up or you won’t be sitting comfy for a week. Are we clear?”

“Yes Touya-nii.” You reply defeated.

“And do it properly. Fuyumi has 3 brothers, she knows what a cumstain looks like and I don’t wanna have to do any explaining to her.”

You only nod, trying (and failing) to blink away tears.

Dabi rewards you with a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Best little sister in the world.” And he leaves you with that.

[ktmarison]

in  trousers  sentence  starters.

'  he  needs  love.  '  

'  i  need  sleep.  '  

'  i'm  awake.  '  

'  i'm  still  here  alive.  '  

'  i'm  sick  of  counting  goddamn  sheep.  '  

'  goodnight  !  '  

'  i'm  reading  !  '  

'  i'm  still  awake  and  thinking  maybe  i'll  become  a  nun.  '  

'  go  to  sleep.  '  

'  maybe  one  day,  i'll  win  at  love.  '  

'  we  love  you.  '  

'  i  can't  talk.  '  

'  they  never  really  disappear.  i'd  like  so  much  to  whiz  without  them  there.  '

'  look  out,  he  breaks  the  golden  rule.  '  

'  who  can  rebuild  the  people  i've  killed  in  bed  ?  '  

'  i  need  bombs  exploding.  '  

'  it's  important  to  win,  but  i'm  scared  to  begin.  '  

'  i  could  sleep  through  the  day.  '  

'  i  accept  my  faults  and  welcome  sudden  death.  '  

'  it's  a  helluva  day.  '

'  it's  our  moment  to  shine,  just  forget  last  night.  '  

'  this  itty-bitty  glass  of  wine  helps  us  start  our  day  out  right.  '  

'  time  to  wake  up  and  face  the  day.  '  

'  our  eight  year  old  is  crying,  please  show  your  face.  '  

'  i  think  he  plays  with  girls  and  dolls.  who  can  know  what  love  he's  lacked  ?  '  

'  what  time  is  it  ?  '  

'  we  can't  stand  here  waiting  forever,  so  move  your  ass,  (name)  !  '  

'  something's  missing  in  my  life.  i  don't  know  what  it  is,  though  i  have  suspicions.  '  

'  i  have  a  family,  and  a  family  pet.  '  

'  i  have  a  family,  with  a  wife  who's  perfect  in  many  ways.  '  

'  in  my  mind,  i'm  a  kissing  a  man.  '  

'  i  have  a  family  while  i've  never  defiled.  '  

'  i'm  honest  when  i  say  i'm  a  child  for  a  fella's  caress.  '  

'  i  love  being  me  !  '  

'  i  turned  fourteen  today  and  will  eat  the  very  best  breakfast  in  town  !  '  

‘  do  i  really  have  to  show  you  people  how  ?  ’  

‘  no  one  looks  busy  in  this  kitchen,  and  my  breakfast  isn’t  ready,  and  my  stomach  aches.  ’

‘  try  to  make  me  hungry.  ’

‘  cat  got  your  tongue  ?  ’

‘  he  always  knows  the  sorts  of  answers  he’ll  allow.  ’

‘  wait  until  i’m  older,  then  i’ll  kill  you.  ’

‘  i  need  my  breakfast  now  !  ’

‘  oh,  jesus  christ,  it  wasn’t  loaded.  ’

‘  she's  an  actor  from  the  old  school  and  a  lousy  chef.  ’

‘  i  don't  want  miracles  from  heaven,  just  some  eggies  over  spinach  over  toast.  ’

‘  no,  i  will  not  apologize  !  ’

‘  she  should  win  a  prize.  ’

‘  that  girl  can’t  cook  !  ’

‘  he  wouldn’t  read  that  kind  of  novel  anyhow.  ’

‘  stop  your  staring.  ’

‘  get  to  work.  ’

‘  life  is  lonely,  life  is  rotten,  and  thankfully  short.  ’

‘  he  throws  a  fit,  then  a  knife.  ’

‘  you  call  this  breakfast  on  my  birthday  ?  this  is  shit,  this  isn’t  breakfast  !  ’

‘  i  mean,  for  god’s  sake,  am  i  talking  to  the  wall  ?  ’  

‘  (name)  underestimates  the  fear  that  he'll  endow.  ’

‘  i’ll  wait  here  until  you  get  it  right.  ’  

'  he's  laughing  all  the  time.  '  

'  he's  a  veritable  fool.  '  

'  (name)  is  my  very  best  friend  in  school.  '  

'  lately  i've  been  thinking  maybe  he  needs  attention  of  a  private  sort.  '  

'  should  his  mother  be  blamed  ?  '  

'  he  has  something  which  most  everybody  needs,  he  cannot  ever  be  embarrassed.  '  

'  he's  my  very  best  friend  in  school  and  i'm  embarrassed  and  ashamed.  '  

'  my  high  school  sweetheart  is  a  person.  '  

'  he  says  i'm  just  ridiculous.  '  

‘  i  tell  him  he’s  a  person,  he  says  i’m  just  a  ridiculous.  ’

'  he's  a  person.  '  

'  i  want  to  hold  him,  but  he's  not  alive.  '  

'  a  person  has  their  wants  and  needs,  i'm  not  a  greedy  person.  '  

'  here  i  am,  (name),  hold  me.  i  want  you  to  want  me  badly.  '  

'  put  me  onto  your  bed,  not  a  pedestal,  will  you  ?  '  

'  but  i'm  his  sweetheart.  '  

'  she  cast  me  in  her  play.  she  gave  me  words  to  say,  made  me  what  i  am  today.  '  

'  stop  begging,  stop  making  me  crazy.  '  

'  i  love  the  way  he  acts,  i  do.  '  

'  do  not  make  faces  and  do  not  undo  the  facts.  '  

'  relax.  '  

'  it  was  one  of  the  best  nights  of  my  life.  '  

'  nothing  is  for  nothing  and  a  new  land  is  a  new  land  to  explore.  '  

'  hey,  i  love  you.  '  

'  a  good  man  never  fails.  '    

'  i  am  living  proof  that  cowards  still  can  rise.  '  

'  you  might  tell  me  you're  a  victim,  you  might  get  what  you  deserve,  but  i  won't  excuse  a  boy  who's  lost  his  nerve.  '  

'  stay  clear  of  love  and  jail.  '  

'  lovers  don't  go  hungry.  '  

'  kids  live  and  learn  to  attack.  '  

'  take  a  break.  '  

'  we'll  drink  it  and  talk.  '  

'  does  he  like  the  rain  ?  '  

'  does  he  kiss  ?  touch  ?  drink  ?  screw  ?  '  

'  does  he  like  to  screw  ?  '  

'  we're  alone  at  last.  '  

'  i  thought  for  a  not  unseemly  price,  you'd  introduce  me  to  the  wonders  of  the  bed,  and  also  treat  me  nice.  '  

'  (name)  is  cute,  though  rarely  good.  '  

'  but,  dearest,  please  accept  my  hand.  '  

'  tell  me,  how  did  you  get  in  here,  please  ?  '  

'  i  drugged  the  man  who  was  guarding  the  floor.  '  

'  i'm  the  only  one  here  in  the  school  except  you  and  the  guard  who  you  beat  in  a  fight.  '  

'  he  was  drugged,  not  with  pills,  but  with  some  apples  from  a  basket.  would  you  like  a  few  ?  '  

'  what  i  do  for  you  is  your  pleasure.  '  

'  i  like  your  eyes.  '  

'  i  was  never  out  of  place.  '  

'  that's  true,  she  minded  her  business  and  taught.  '

'  i  always  like  the  way  you  got  angry  in  your  glasses.  '  

'  you  little  shit,  i'll  throw  a  fit,  i'll  beat  your  head  in  with  a  hammer  !  '  

'  just  keep  your  dirty  fingers  away  from  my  face,  kid  !  '

'  listen,  i'm  a  bastard,  bummer  with  a  penis,  and  i  need  us  two  to  be  together.  '  

'  i  need  us  two  to  screw  together.  '  

'  make  me  a  happy  boy.  '  

'  please,  please,  please,  rub  your  hands  between  my  knees.  '  

'  he  always  gets  the  things  he  wants.  '  

'  accept  the  things  he  wants.  '  

'  do  you  want  my  telephone  number  ?  '  

'  lest  we  forget,  she  will  always  remind  us  how  they  two  met.  '  

'  love  me  for  what  i  am,  not  what  i  try  to  be.  '  

'  he  gave  me  a  phony  home  address.  '  

'  i  am  a  person  who  likes  to  lie  too  much,  i  try  too  much  to  impress  other  people.  often  my  inferiors.  '  

'  could  you  like  a  girl  like  that  ?  '  

'  would  you  hold  her  in  your  arms  ?  '  

'  darling,  we  might  survive.  '  

'  this  whole  damn  thing's  a  joke.  '  

'  perhaps  he'll  trip  or  she  might  choke.  '  

'  forget  this  guy,  he's  no  damn  good.  no  action  and  all  words.  '  

'  call  me  a  disgrace  and  then  be  done  with  blame.  '  

'  how  was  i  to  know  that  he's  a  gigolo,  emotionally  underbred  ?  '  

'  when  the  passion  stings,  i  think  of  pretty  things  instead.  '  

'  after  winter,  i'll  marry.  i'm  entitled  to  that.  '  

'  here  i  sit,  drunk  and  self-indulgent,  dressed  up  in  a  hat  which  even  i  detest.  '  

'  marry  money,  money  wins.  ’  

‘  your  past  will  disappear,  and  with  it  all  your  sins.  '  

'  joy  once  seemed  so  near.  '  

'  he'd  approve  if  i  let  him.  '  

'  though,  it's  hard  to  forget  him.  '  

'  where's  her  goddamn  husband  ?  '  

'  always  acting  infantile,  that's  one  thing  that  makes  him  smile.  '  

'  i  do  not  think  that  this  will  work.  '  

'  i  think  we  should've  spoke  before.  but  today's  too  late.  '  

'  i  hate  weddings.  '  

'  is  her  veil  on  straight,  and  is  she  drunk  ?  '  

'  will  he  be  the  man  i've  dreamt  about  ?  '  

'  isn't  this  a  perfect  day  ?  '  

'  what  do  i  think  about  five  seconds  before  i  die  ?  '  

'  i'm  about  to  die  and  i  didn't  feel  like  shopping.  '  

'  please  stop  your  bye-ing.  '  

'  have  pity  on  the  one  who's  dying.  '  

'  when  her  passion  soon  cools,  and  it  will...  if  she's  smart.  '  

'  will  i  break  the  girl's  heart  ?  '  

'  did  i  ever  have---  no,  will  i  ever  have  fun  ?  '  

'  things  on  which  we  most  depend  seem  to  fail  us  in  the  end.  '  

'  we've  been  married  for  ten  years.  eight  were  fine,  and  six  were  not.  it  seemed  longer  than  ten  years.  '  

'  the  first  two  were  the  best  years.  '  

'  i  felt  him  slipping  away.  '  

'  i  felt  him  die  in  my  arms.  '  

'  how  could  i  ever  compete  ?  '  

'  the  cause  of  all  his  lust,  she  must  be  sweet.  '  

'  he's  used  to  love  me.  '  

'  don't  be  pathetic.  '  

'  he  could  just  as  well  leave  me.  '  

'  when  he's  with  us,  he's  somewhere  alone.  '  

'  i'll  be  fine  if  he  leaves  me,  but  i'm  sure  he  won't.  '  

'  the  bitch  might  be  dumb.  '  

'  he  will  not  admit  the  truth.  '  

'  why  are  men  so  damn  uncouth  ?  all  they  ever  tell  are  lies.  '  

'  he  hates  my  wife.  '  

'  i  hate  his  food.  '  

'  he  thinks  i'm  rude,  but  nice.  '  

'  i  think  he's  nice,  but  indiscreet.  '

'  he  thinks  i'm  sweet,  but  he  treats  me  kind  of  funny.  '  

'  isn't  it  delightful  playing  easy  ?  '  

'  he's  on  his  knees,  i'm  lying  flat.  just  like  a  bad  idea.  '  

'  i  think  i'll  die.  '  

'  listen  to  him  laugh.  i'm  reminded  of  the  old  times,  'cause  at  last  he's  got  passion.  '  

'  he's  sick.  '  

'  i'm  delighted.  no  i'm  not,  but  it's  better  than  it  was.  '  

'  let's  recapitulate  the  things  he  does  to  earn  my  blessing.  '  

'  first  he  hurts  his  wife,  it's  a  good  move  if  you  ask  me,  but  you  didn't,  so  i'm  quiet.  then  he  hurts  his  child,  that's  a  less  good  move,  but  necessary.  '

  '  call  it  passion  and  don't  regret  it.  '  

'  him  and  the  boy  live  happily  ever  after...  that's  a  sickening  thought.  '  

'  all  of  us  alive  need  something  we  can  live  for.  '  

'  i'm  counting  on  this  boy  to  make  me  dream.  '  

'  he  needs  love  ?  i  got  love  !  '  

'  i'd  like  to  be  a  princess  on  a  throne.  '  

'  men  will  be  men.  '  

'  i  saw  them  in  the  den.  '  

'  he's  a  queen,  i'm  a  queen.  where's  my  crown  ?  '  

'  my  life  is  shitty,  and  my  kid  seems  like  an  idiot  to  me  !  '  

'  i  mean,  he's  great.  it's  me  who  is  the  matter.  '  

'  if  i  repeat  one  more  word,  i  swear  i'll  lose  my  brain.  '  

'  i  can  cry  on  cue,  but  so  can  you.  '  

'  you  ask  me  if  it's  fun  to  cry  over  nothing.  it  is.  '  

‘  a  healthy  fruit  is  healthy  until  it  rots.  ’  

‘  speaking  of  friends,  (name)  is  sweet  and  trim.  ’  

‘  i  think  in  fact  i’ll  marry  him.  he  wants  me.  ’  

'  i  think  it's  strange  because  the  sex  was  good.  '  

'  i'd  take  his  mouth  and  feet,  and  make  them  do...  well,  i  forget.  '  

'  i  think  it's  rotten  how  i  lately  feel.  '  

'  it's  like  a  nightmare  how  this  all  proceeds.  '  

'  i  hope  that  he  don't  fulfill  his  needs.  '  

'  i  wanna  sleep.  sure,  things  will  probably  worsen,  but  it's  not  like  i'm  a  healthy  person.  '  

'  i  only  wanna  love  a  man  who  can  love  me.  or  like  me.  or  hold.  or  touch  me.  or  stand  me.  '  

'  he  was  never  mine.  '  

'  i  used  to  cry,  we'd  make  a  scene.  '  

'  and  me,  i'm  just  a  freak,  who  needs  it  maybe  every  other  week.  '  

'  does  he  feel  awful  ?  and  has  he  grieved  ?  '  

'  i  do  not  feel  awful.  a  little  unlawful,  but  a  lot  relieved.  '  

'  (name)  will  act  very  parental,  completely  gentle,  absolutely  swell.  '

'  those  were  things  i  used  to  do,  which  i'll  leave  behind.  '  

'  tell  her  your  sin's  called  hanging  on.  '  

'  honest  to  god,  no  one's  the  villain.  '  

'  i'm  not  a  saint,  let's  not  mince  words  here.  '  

'  am  i  your  nightmare  or  your  dream  ?  '  

'  if  you  see  me  at  your  door,  swear  you'll  let  me  in.  '  

'  pack  it  up  and  call  it  quits.  like  good  quitters  do.  '  

'  god,  what  have  i  done  ?  '  

'  i  dreamt  last  night  we  flew  to  china.  '  

'  your  parents  own  a  car,  don't  they  ?  can't  we  drive  away  ?  '  

'  may  we  talk  as  friends  ?  '  

'  i  dreamt  last  night  you  almost  held  me.  '  

'  jesus  christ,  you'll  come  through.  '  

'  hold  me.  hold  him  too.  but  stay.  '  

'  please  drink  your  tea  before  it's  cold.  '  

'  you  can't  go  on  as  if  you're  dying.  '  

'  this  is  much  better  for  the  both  of  us.  '  

'  people  used  to  lick  the  streets  after  she  walked  by  in  order  to  show  respect  for  this  great  lady.  '  

'  he  did  little  all  day  but  jot  down  ridiculous  poems  and  wait  for  (name)  to  call  his  name.  '  

'  he  wasn't  cheating  exactly.  '  

'  they  met  at  odd  hours,  off  and  on  for  three  weeks.  '  

'  he  was  half  out  of  his  mind  with  grief.  '  

'  she  paid  for  his  fine  clothes,  provided  him  with  a  fine  apartment,  rent-free,  and  he  loved  her.  '  

'  you  think  she  was  moved  ?  you  think  so  ?  '  

'  you  don't  know  the  whole  story.  i  was  not  having  an  affair  with  a  lady  in  waiting.  '  

'  he  asked  if  he  could  sit  down.  he  asked  if  there  was  anything  to  drink.  he  asked  if  he  could  take  off  his  clothes.  '  

'  well,  we  slept  a  little.  '  

'  god  bless  america.  '  

'  the  thing  about  explorers  is:  they  discover  things  that  are  already  there.  '  

'  it's  taken  all  of  my  will  to  still  stand  high.  '  

'  he  wrote  me  goodbye.  '  

'  he  filled  it  with  details,  explicit  things  that  i  can't  try.  '  

'  another  sleepless  night  at  home  in  bed.  '  

'  you  try  to  think  of  things  you  might  have  said,  you  try  to  carry  on.  '  

'  i  was  my  face  then  drink  beer  then  i  weep,  say  a  prayer,  and  induce  insincere  self  abuse  until  i'm  fast  asleep.  '  

'  i've  done  too  much  talking.  '  

'  he  never  stops.  i  need  my  sleep.  '

'  five  times  a  night,  he'll  request  it.  i  wanna  rest  it.  '  

'  what  he  wants  is  a  body  that  won't  fuss.  '  

'  he's  feeling  hot.  i'll  close  my  eyes,  and  then  surprise:  i'll  be  awake  and  preforming.  '  

'  i'll  wanna  sleep  but  maybe  trying  to  put  up  with  a  guy  like  myself  must  be  a  bore.  '  

'  he  sleeps  in  this  bed  with  me,  a  survivor.  '  

'  i'm  feeling  alive-er  than  i've  ever  felt  in  my  life  before.  '  

'  another  book  you  thought  was  best  unread  has  proved  indeed  it  was.  '  

'  i  am  so  alone  in  the  middle  of  the  night.  '  

'  they  said  they'd  never  lose  their  love.  and  then  they  lost  their  love.  '  

'  women  sit  like  angels,  men  like  vultures.  '  

'  and  who's  to  blame  them  ?  '  

'  i  write  to  keep  the  pain  alive.  '

[angellesword]

EUPHORIA | JJK

It’s Sunday. Jeongguk was supposed to be at the gym, serving looks. You were supposed to be at the church, serving the Lord. But you two were at the mall, looking for baby toys. You guessed this was your punishment for letting him stick his dick inside of you instead of just using an adult toy.

Alternatively:

“We share the same painful views. Won’t you please stay in my dreams.”

word count: 2.6k (one-shot) PART OF INTRO SERIES

pairing: husband!Jungkook x wife!reader

genre and content warnings: established relationship, angst, fluff, married au, (forced marriage) mention of premarital sex, pregnancy, abortion, Catholic guilt, death, and mental illness.

Sunday was church day.

This was what your whole family made you believe ever since you were young. They were firm believers of God. In fact, your first word wasn't like what most babies said.

Jesus. This was your first word and your mom wasn't even complaining. She loved to brag about it to other lectors and commentators. Your father, a lay minister, also took pride sharing the same story over and over again.

Frankly speaking, you were getting tired of it.

Don't get it twisted. You loved Jesus and you believed that he was your savior. You even sang worship songs at the church every Sunday. You were the head of the choir; every church goer knew you—well, not only church goers.

Literally everyone around you knew you.

You were also popular at school. People referred to you as the good girl who had it all.

You were pretty, smart, and your boyfriend was none other than Jeon Jeongguk.

The man you were dating was a jock. He made it clear that he didn't like studying, but he still wanted to go to a university and apply for scholarship. You had no doubt that he would get what he wanted.

Jeongguk was a star football player after all.

"Babe, what do you think of this?" You showed Jeongguk a stuffed animal. It was a rabbit.

"Cute," he grinned at you. Jeongguk wasn't sure what he found cute. Was it you or was it the stuffed toy?

You and Jeongguk were currently at the mall, buying toys for Haneul, your son who was turning one this month.

"We'll buy this next time.”

The smile Jeongguk was sporting turned into a scowl when you put the toy back to the shelf.

"Next time?" He furrowed his brow, reaching for the rabbit. "Why can't we buy it now?"

"Guk," you let out a sigh. He was feigning innocence but you knew better.

You knew you couldn't afford this kind of toy. Why did you even ask him to go here? It was obvious that you didn't belong here.

Years ago, you and Jeongguk had plans. He wanted to be a famous football player while you decided to major in Marketing; however, your dreams had been shattered when you found out that you were pregnant with his baby.

You didn't know what to do that time. You just graduated high school. Actually, you were supposed to take the college entrance exam at Seoul University.

The test didn't happen because you felt sick that day. You had been vomiting non-stop and everything smelt awful.

You still took a test, though. It wasn't the kind of test you were expecting. You woke up that day to chase you dream, but instead you ended up chasing your breath as you cried and cried and cried.

You took a pregnancy test and the numbing slap of your mother was enough for you to know that you were a disgrace.

A disgrace, a disappointment, an animal, a disrespectful child, and a....

sinner.

You accepted it all. You didn't mind that your whole family was insulting you inside and out.

You didn't blame them—couldn't blame them.

How could you do that when you saw yourself the same way they saw you?

Your mind was poisoning you. You were blaming yourself. You were blaming Jeongguk. He did this to you.

He did this to you because you let him.

So basically, this was your fault.

You ruined your future and the only way to restore everything back to normal was to have an abortion.

Of course you considered abortion. You were young and so, so scared. How could you take care of a child when you couldn't even take care of yourself?

And what about Jeongguk? He didn't deserve this shit. He was young too. He deserved the world, not a punishment.

You considered your child as a punishment. Why didn't you just stick to dildo? Or a fucking vibrator?

There were so many options. Why did you have to trust that stupid condom? You knew it didn't work all the time.

Nothing worked according to your plan.

"You are going to marry Jeon Jeongguk." Your father's words screamed authority.

Everyone in your family was aware that once your father demanded something, it should be followed without any questions. He rarely spoke, but when he did, it was absolute.

"But—" despite knowing the end of this discussion, you still tried to reason out.

You were only able to utter one word before you felt another deafening slap from your mother.

Or was it your father?

You had no idea.

All you knew was that everyone was either physically hurting you or emotionally manipulating you.

"No buts! My decision is final! You are going to marry that Jeon boy!"

Ah, that Jeon boy.

Poor Jeon Jeongguk. He had no idea what was about to happen to him. God. He didn't even know that you were carrying his child.

"We won't allow you to live like a slut anymore," your auntie crossed her arms.

This was the thing about your family. Everyone had a say, even your relative could discipline you. According to them, elders should always be respected. You had to follow what they said because apparently, they knew better than you.

Maybe they did. But still, you didn't want to force Jeongguk to marry you.

Sure, you two had been dating for three years now, but that wasn't enough. What if the love he felt for you wasn't the kind of love that you and your kid needed?

Perhaps you should have thought of that before giving into lust. The tiny voice inside your head sneered at you.

You could only sob.

It seemed like crying was all you could do.

You cried when you found out that you were pregnant, you cried when your parents found out that you were pregnant, and you cried when Jeongguk found out that you were pregnant.

All of this was happening because you were pregnant.

Except one thing:

Jeongguk wanted to marry you not because you were pregnant but because he loved you.

"You don't have to force me.” Jeongguk gritted his teeth when your whole family barged in his house.

Of course the Jeons were surprised. They weren't close to your family even though you lived two houses away from one another.

Your family didn’t want to associate themselves with the Jeons. The latter didn't really believe in the Lord, or even if they did, they were still far from religious.

They raised Jeongguk to be a sinner.

Your family firmly believed that you only got pregnant because Jeongguk forced you.

It wasn't true. You both wanted it to happen. You were consenting adults. Besides, your boyfriend asked you thousands of times if you truly wanted to do it.

He didn't force you. He respected you.

"I will marry her." Jeongguk said with confidence. He was looking at your father as if he was ready to knock him down.

"Jeongguk," his mother called softly. She was crying. She was broken. She was ashamed. She was sorry.

"It's alright, mom." The look Jeongguk gave his mother was the opposite of the glare he threw at your father.

Jeongguk was a sweet boy. He loved his parents so much.

"Shall we talk about the wedding, then?" Your father raised a brow.

Everything happened fast after that. Your family and Jeongguk's parents arranged the matrimony that was about to happen.

The Jeons offered to pay for the wedding expenses. Your family agreed. They didn't really care about the details. They only demanded a church wedding. They also wanted to marry you off as soon as possible.

They said it would be a shame if your baby bump appeared before the white event.

Since the preparation was short, you didn't have a choice but to wear a simple dress. Your mother insisted that you add veil as an accessory.

It was a hypocritical move, really. Veils symbolized innocence and purity.

You were neither.

You were a sinner and guilt was consuming your whole being.

Guilt for disappointing your family.

Guilt for breaking your promise to the Lord.

And guilt for taking something away from Jeongguk.

You took his freedom away.

The small apartment where you two now lived was not enough to showcase what he got. This abode was small, suffocating and confining his talents.

It was also too small to cater your unending tears.

You felt like you were drowning.

"Babe..." Your husband whispered, yet his voice still startled you.

You didn't answer—didn't have the energy to do so. You were drowning, remember? It didn't help that you feel suffocated too. The stupid dress you were wearing was too tight.

"You okay?" Jeongguk enquired, sighing.

He was worried about you. The two of you got married today. It was supposed to be one of the happiest days for brides, but why weren't you happy?

Why did you look...dejected?

"Yeah," you tried to offer him a smile. "I just feel hot."

You weren't lying. You didn't like the ambiance of your house. It felt like a vacation place, like you were a stranger, like you didn't belong.

It was because your mother and sisters were the ones who decorated this place.

"You think you can join me outside?" Your husband rubbed circled on your palm. "Let's have some fresh air?"

You nodded in a heartbeat.

You were tired, but you didn't want to be stuck in this room. You wanted...out.

"Okay.” Jeongguk helped you get on your feet. He was acting as though you were an expensive figurine ever since he learned that you were pregnant.

Your husband led you to the small garden of your home. You didn't know that your family decided to buy a place like this.

You were grateful though. The inside of your home was suffocating, but the garden appeared...magical.

"Jeongguk," your eyes widened in shock. "W-What's all this?"

Your hand was shaking as your eyes scanned the garden. There were fairy lights wrapped around the trees. The place was also decorated with different ornaments and pretty flowers.

Your favorite flowers.

"Do you like it?" Your husband was grinning at you. His eyes were shining brighter than the lights.

"Of course," you cupped his cheeks. "This is sweet, Kookie. Thank you.”

"Anything for you," he brought your hands closer to his mouth, kissing it.

"You deserve everything, baby." And with that, Jeongguk dropped on one knee.

"W-What are you doing!?" You panicked, eyes dilating once again.

"I know everything happened so fast." He started, licking his bottom lip. "We didn't have time to process everything. Our family decided what they think is good for us and trust me, I appreciate it."

You knew he was implying that he wanted this to happen.

"But I want to do something that I want.”  He fished a small box out of the pocket of his slacks.

You gasped.

"They told me to marry you." He opened the velvet box.

There was a ring.

"But they didn't give me the chance to do this," he raised the ring in the air.

"Baby," Jeongguk called, looking at your face with so much fondness. "You deserve a better proposal."

You were sobbing.

"You deserve a man dropping down on one knee. A man who will show you that he is serious about this marriage.”

He took your left hand.

"And I want to be that man. I want to be the man you deserved and not the boy your father coerced,"

You laughed, heart hammering through your chest. Jeongguk was so beautiful.

"I love you..." He confessed as he called your name. "Will you marry me?"

The yes that came out of your mouth was instant. You didn't hesitate. You didn't feel guilty. You just felt....happy.

Jeongguk put the ring on your finger. He kissed your stomach before standing up to crash his lips against yours.

Jeongguk no longer tasted like regret.

He tasted like forever.

Forever...

You swore you would stay with him forever. You felt silly for doubting him.

Jeongguk was a good man.

Your house no longer felt suffocating. It was loaded with love and laughter and it made your heart swell with joy.

Your family didn't bother your life anymore. You were on your own. They stopped supporting you. They said you made a choice—a choice to be a mother.

A mother was a provider, a natural giver.

You provided for your new family. You worked harder. You had two jobs: a waitress and elementary tutor.

Jeongguk continued studying. He was a student in the morning and a delivery boy at night.

You two worked in the same restaurant. Jeongguk tried to cover your shift as much as possible. He was basically doing your job.

He was scared. What if you overworked yourself? He didn't want you to work but you said you had to.

Raising a baby was expensive.

But you did it.

Haneul was turning one year old this month. He was a bright kid and he looked exactly like his father. They had the same brown eyes, so innocent and wide.

You knew you would do anything for your baby—well—except for one.

You wouldn't buy this stuffed toy for him. It's not like you didn't want to. It was more like you couldn't.

You couldn't afford it.

You couldn't, but Jeongguk could.

"Let's buy it...” He repeated. "I have money. I worked overtime last night.”

Your husband was still a delivery boy. You, on the other hand, quit your job so that you could look after your baby.

"Are you sure? This is expensive, Kook." You bit your lower lip.

Jeongguk smiled at you.

"But Haneul will like it.”

His reason was enough for you to just give in.

Of course.

Anything for your little Jeon. You would die for your son.

"Haneul, we're home!" You cooed loudly.

You were excited to see your baby. Jeongguk told you to give Haneul the stuffed toy while he go and express his gratitude to your neighbor for looking after baby Haneul.

Little did you know, Jeongguk was lying.

There was no neighbor to talk to.

It was only an excuse so that he could stare at you through the window as you rocked the empty crib in your room.

You were singing.

"You are the sunlight that rose again in my life..." Your voice was sweet that Jeongguk couldn't help but cry a little.

For you, Haneul was light. He shed light when you felt like giving up.

"You are the cause of my euphoria," your child was also the cause of your happiness.

Without him, you would be lost.

Jeongguk knew it.

Haneul.

This was the name you chose for your kid. It meant heaven.

For you, Haneul was God sent.

But Jeongguk was wondering.

If Haneul was God sent, then why did the Lord take him immediately?

Why did your Lord take him away from you and Jeongguk?

"Close the door now..." You continued to sing.

Jeongguk's heart clenched.

He watched you every day, so he already knew the next line of the song.

He sang with you.

"When I'm with you I'm in utopia..."

Utopia was a special place. A fantasy world. A world where everything was possible.

In Utopia, Haneul was still alive.

Jeongguk wasn't crazy.

He knew you needed help.

You were in denial. Too caught up in fantasy that you refused to believe that your son was already dead the moment he was born.

Haneul died in your womb.

He tried telling you, but you didn't want to acknowledge it.

You became hysterical when the words dead and Haneul were mentioned in the same sentence.

Jeongguk avoided using those words. It had been months now, almost a year actually.

He wondered if he could still continue pretending.

Looking at you hurt.

He guessed it was time to let go.

Not now, but soon.

For today, he just wanted to believe that utopia was real.

It should be fine, right?

more JJK FICS: Your Eyes Tell or check Masterlist

[jojotichakorn]

Hi, I've been following since ep4 and I really enjoy reading your takes. Bbs is definitely my fav series of 2021.

But I have a question / theory.

Do you think that the way Pran's mom raised him affected how he handled the Wai situation

In ep10 2/4, when pran and pat were looking through the office, pat found pran's report and it was written that he was a smart kid but he didn't have a lot of friends. Pran's mom isolated him in the hope that he doesn't end up being betrayed as she has been by a really close friend. I feel sick when I imagine what she has been telling that poor kid.

Pat also said in ep5 that she never allowed anyone in their house, reason why he was surprised she allowed Wai there, let alone, likes him.

I do believe that her liking Wai has to do with the fact that he is as overprotective and possessive as she is, reason is why she allowed that friendship. Which is ironic because, he is the one who ends up betraying him.

In the reaction of ep9, P'aof said that Wai is the first friend, after pat, that he made in his new school, they have been through a lot together. If we take into account that, and the fact that, in that period of time, he was absolutely heart broken and vulnerable, him and Wai must have created a strong bond. Just look at his reaction in ep1 when his friend told him that Wai was getting beat up.

Even in the flashbacks, pran always seemed to be detached from the rest of the class, not excluded of course, in comparison to pran who is always talking with people.

If we take all of that into account, I get how his relationship with his mom made him extremely loyal, to the point where he accept to be treated like trash, and be the one to apologise.

And why, I don't see him breaking up with pat either.

This is so long, omg.

Also, something random, do you know if he was transferred to a school in another neighborhood, like a boarding school or that he was commuting every day.

hello!! thank you so much!

i definitely think pran's reaction to what wai did and honestly his entire relationship with him is directly pran's mother's fault. i suppose loyalty has something to do with it, but i would rather point out other things. first, pran's mother made pran feel very isolated with her controlling behavior, which lead to him never having that many friends, and which eventually lead to him holding onto the first person who gave him a second of his time. add to that the fact that pran was very vulnerable at the time, and the fact that pran's mother and wai are manipulative in strikingly similar ways, and you have all the reasons why they became best friends.

then when the whole curtain situation happened, pran blamed himself, because that's what he's been taught his whole life - i recently quoted a comedian i watched, who talked about his abusive family and said "it wasn't me stomping loudly, it was your floor creaking". pran wasn't at the point of realizing that yet. his whole life he was blamed for stomping loudly, told it was all his fault, while in reality, it was his mother's floor creaking, and the noise coming from him walking couldn't be helped. so when wai's shitty and manipulative ass framed everything as if he was the victim, of course, pran put all the blame on himself as usual, not even daring to suppose it wasn't his fault. the thing is, knowing pran's mother, she has also most certainly made him feel ashamed of and responsible for what she did, so even knowing that wai did something wrong, pran's pattern is unfortunately very likely to start with "what have i done wrong to make him do this" and end there as well.

a lot of people who are or have been in abusive relationships but don't realize it end up in very similar situations with other people. that is a very unfortunate but real cycle.

as for your last question - i am pretty sure it was a school elsewhere and he didn't live at home at the time. otherwise, it wouldn't make sense. they wouldn't have been able to keep them away from each other for long if the only thing that separated them every single day was just their balcony.

[floralseokjin]

⤑ made-up love song drabbles

Seokjin’s chapter ix 

kim seokjin x reader warnings; angst, this feels pretty heavy at certain points but gets lighter as you go on, there’s a therapy session included, and just a lot of introspection  words; 7,459

author’s note; this kind of ran away with me, wasn’t expecting it to be so long haha but I hope you enjoy! 

Read the original chapter ix here 

↪︎ read the series here / and drabbles here

After you left Seokjin immediately poured the rest of his whisky down the sink and rinsed his glass. His mind was whirring, head heavy and starting to throb. He swallowed two painkillers down with some water and took a deep breath. He felt like crying. It felt like everything was crumbling around him. All his recent happiness, all his progress, and now possibly it seemed, his relationship with you… 

He’d wanted nothing more than to beg you to stay, and he had to an extent, but he knew it wasn’t right. He closed his eyes, not quite believing you’d witnessed all that. You probably thought he was a monster. He hadn’t lost his temper quite like that in a while, not since before the divorce… Embarrassment washed over him, yet he couldn’t stop himself from still being mad at Nana. He knew what you said made sense. He knew he’d been out of line but Nana continuously goaded him. She’d done so throughout their marriage. But he was no saint, he knew how to provoke her too. It’s what they did best. 

He moved away from the sink and tried to quash his anger, instead thinking of you and how much he had hurt and upset you. He hadn’t meant for it to get that bad, and he knew deep down that the reason he was so angry was because he’d brought it all on himself. He caused the incident by keeping his relationship with you secret. It hadn’t been on purpose, he wasn’t being vindictive, if anyone would believe him. He just… He had been selfish. He didn’t want to ruin anything because he was finally really happy after god knows how long. It was stupid in hindsight, but what was done was done now. 

He reached for Arin’s mug of hot chocolate and fresh waves of guilt and emotion hit him. She didn’t deserve any of this. He needed to be there for her, to push his own troubles away and put on a brave face because none of this was her fault. She needed to know that. Thankfully, the drink hadn’t grown cold yet, and he finished it off with some cream and mini marshmallows. He took one last deep breath and made his way down the hallway. Moping was no good for him. That’s what Chaewon always said. 

Arin looked happy to see him, instantly reaching out to him as he took a seat next to her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close, kissing the top of her head. He immediately felt lighter with relief. His daughter had always been his magical cure, and even though a cuddle wouldn’t make everything in his life right again, it certainly helped, and was very much needed. She asked where you were at one point, and unsure what to say, and feeling like shit for lying, he quickly said you needed to be somewhere. Arin probably didn’t buy it, looking dubious as a result of today, bus she didn’t say anything, asking instead if they could watch a movie. 

She wasn’t very talkative, and he didn’t blame her. Neither was he. He spent most of Shrek the Third lost in his own thoughts. As his anger slowly drifted away, shame replaced it. He’d been absolutely awful today and even if some of the things he’d said to Nana came from a valid place of concern, most were shouted for no reason other than frustration and hatred on his part. He was ashamed of himself. 

After the movie finished, Arin complained she was feeling hungry, so he left her to pick a new movie while he found something to cook up for dinner. He caught sight of the bowl of salad and his heart sunk, remembering the picnic outside. There was no salvaging it now, everything had probably spoiled in the sun, and as he waited for Arin’s dinner to cook, he went outside with a garbage bag, throwing away all the food you’d painstakingly prepared. It felt like he was throwing your relationship in the trash. He didn’t eat with that thought in mind, managing one piece of toast before it turned on him. 

At around 6pm his phone started to ring, vibrating in his front pocket and giving him a shock. For a split second he prayed it was you, but he knew he was being foolish. You needed time and if he was being honest with himself, so did he. He needed to concentrate on Arin tonight, as much as he…loved…you, his daughter’s wellbeing was the most important thing. If he could just make sure Arin was okay, then tomorrow he could concentrate on you and him. 

Pulling out the device he saw it was Nana. He suddenly felt very, very sick but picked up with a cautious hello. He was almost 100% sure she wanted to speak with Arin, the only way she could seeing as Arin was too young to have a phone of her own, but he was still wary, not wanting a repeat of earlier. 

“I want to speak to my daughter.” There was anger to her tone, and he knew her well enough to understand she had her guard up right now. She’d left his place upset and emotional, and that was two of the things she hated people seeing. Especially him. She hated being vulnerable. 

Seokjin sighed weakly. “Nana, come on, don’t be like that.” He hesitated, wanting to say sorry for today but the word wouldn’t come. Despite the guilt setting in, he was still pretty angry and frustrated himself. 

“I want to speak with Arin,” she repeated. “Will you let me?”

“Of course I will,” he replied. What did she take him for? 

He turned to Arin, ready to tell her it was her mom on the phone, but she was already waiting, her ears probably catching Nana’s name a few seconds previous. He smiled gently at her and passed his cell phone over. He tried to concentrate on the television as they spoke, not wanting to eavesdrop. Arin was uncharacteristically quiet as she hummed along to whatever Nana was saying, the occasional okay and I know slipping from her lips as she curled a lock of hair around her finger over and over again, but he understood why. Today had been overwhelming for everyone involved but especially her. She hadn’t seen or heard them argue in a long time, both he and Nana careful to hide them from her as of late. Today had been an awful mistake and the now a stronger wave of guilt was eating him up. 

After a few minutes he heard Arin tell her mother she loved her and then she hung up, returning the phone to Seokjin. He stretched over and placed the device on the coffee table, turning back to his daughter apologetically.   “I’m sorry about today, Arin.” 

She immediately flung herself into his arms, wrapping hers around his sides to hug him tight. He squeezed her right back, running his fingers through her hair gently. “Daddy was really angry, I shouldn’t have shouted.” 

“Mommy shouted too,” she reminded him. “She was angry that I called Y/N my stepmom.” Hesitantly she looked up at him, her eyes wide with worry. “I didn’t know it was wrong.” 

Seokjin sighed gently, trying to see things from Nana’s point of view. “It’s not a wrong word. It’s just a word that hurt your mother’s feelings.”  Arin looked a little confused by that explanation, and suddenly Seokjin felt the urge to be as honest as he could with her. She was still young, yes, but she wasn’t stupid. Far from it actually. She deserved not to be kept in the dark. 

“She… she didn’t know that Y/N is my girlfriend.” 

“Why?”

“I was wrong and didn’t tell her.”

Arin stayed silent as she mulled his words over. After a few moments she simply said, “I didn’t know that.” 

Seokjin ran a hand down her back, choosing his next words carefully. “Will you tell me what happened today? How mommy found out?”

Arin wriggled away from him to get comfier, sitting back against the sofa again. Seokjin copied, lifting his arm up so she could cuddle up to him. “She asked if I had a new bracelet and I told her Y/N had bought it for me last weekend when I stayed with her.” 

Looking down at her wrist now, Seokjin saw no bracelet and he guessed Arin had taken it off in a bid not to hurt her mom even more. She was such a sweet child, always thinking of other people’s feelings. 

“Mommy asked who she was and I said she was my stepmom – only because Suzie told me that’s what she is. Suzie has one too and it was fun because then we both had stepmoms.” 

Seokjin nodded along in understanding. “It’s okay, it was only a misunderstanding. But to use that word it needs to be discussed first, okay?” 

It was Arin’s turn to nod and Seokjin continued carefully. He was well aware everything was up in the air now so it hurt hearing the words that came out of his own month. “Right now Y/N is just Y/N. Before we use that word we have to make sure she likes it, alright? And mommy too.” 

“I didn’t know.” 

“I know you didn’t,” he comforted, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. He wasn’t even too sure she knew what exactly the word meant. 

They both stayed silent for a little while before Arin spoke again. “You and mommy haven’t argued for a long time until today…because I said that word…”

“Hey,” Seokjin exclaimed softly wanting her to look his way. “We didn’t argue because of you. None of this is your fault, okay? It’s my fault and I’m really sorry.” 

She gave him a small smile and patted his head. “It’s okay, daddy. I still love you.” 

He couldn’t help but chuckle slightly. He could always count on his daughter to cheer him up. “Thank you, Arin.” He kissed her cheek. “I love you too. Very much.” 

The new week started off badly. He had been foolish to think Mondays were something of a fresh start, foolish to think calling you first thing in the morning was a good idea, and as you told him you needed some space and that you’d call him once the week was over he couldn’t help but think the worst. You’d insisted that you weren’t mad at him, and you had no reason to lie to him, but there was no doubt you were upset… overwhelmed. That morning he’d woken up even more ashamed of the way he’d acted the day before, wincing as he remembered the way he’d lost his temper. He’d sworn that he would never let that side of himself appear ever again, but it was easier said than done. Nana had struck a nerve with the way she had spoken to you and it had been impossible to keep his cool. 

He felt deeply ashamed when he thought about how confused you must have felt watching he and his ex-wife hurl abuse at each other. Deeply ashamed when he thought about the way you’d found out things he had never told you… You were hurt he’d never let you know what triggered his divorce, and he understood why completely. It wasn’t like it hadn’t crossed his mind to share such a personal detail with you, it had, of course it had, he just couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Your experience with infidelity was the complete opposite of his. You had your heart torn to pieces by your ex-fiancé and he had his ego bruised… His marriage with Nana had already been completely over, he just didn’t have the guts to get out. She was correct, he was a coward through and through. 

But most of all he was deeply ashamed of his behaviour entirely. He had never meant to compare the both of you. He had never meant to use you to hurt Nana. It was extremely petty, such a low blow, and he didn’t know where it had come from. Rage had washed over him and he’d spat words that he couldn’t take back. It was the worst thing he’d ever done in his entire life, and despite the grievances he had with Nana, he regretted those words deeply. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her like that. It was shameful, and he felt horrendous for hurting both women with his foolish behaviour. 

Was there a happy ending after this? If Nana didn’t already hate him, she did now, and you were probably not too far behind. You’d seen him at his most poisonous, heard him use you to prove a point, found out things he’d kept from you, and learned he’d kept you a secret from his ex-wife. How embarrassed you must have felt… How confused… He’d made so many mistakes along the way, it was a wonder they hadn’t caught up with him sooner… 

He wouldn’t be able to bear it if you wound up hating him. Not when he loved you so much. He hadn’t even had a chance to confess yet, coming so close to it Saturday night but backing out because he was scared it was too soon. He’d made the decision there and then to tell you once he took you to Paris, getting swept away with the idea and the romance of it all, but now the regret for not professing his love that night was like a lead weight inside his chest. Would it have changed anything? Would yesterday have had a different outcome? 

And while he was regretting things, he regretted not letting Nana know about the relationship. Yesterday could have been avoided completely – maybe. 

The more he thought, the worse it got and by Tuesday he could feel himself spiralling. He knew the feeling all too well. Soobin had already worked out something was the matter. (His lack of morning shave a dead giveaway.) And that meant he was doing a terrible job at hiding his mood. He couldn’t have Arin sensing the same. She obviously hadn’t forgotten about the weekend and wouldn’t anytime soon, but he couldn’t make it worse for her. He needed to be there for her, as her father, not too busy distracted with his own misery. It was selfish. 

But he couldn’t suppress it all. He knew that was unhealthy. So, Tuesday night, once Arin was tucked up in bed sound asleep, he called the one person his former happiness had been neglecting for months now… 

“Seokjin,” Chaewon greeted, her warm voice laced with surprise. “Long time no speak.” 

He felt guilt immediately wash over him. “Yeah… I’m sorry about that.” It was stupid really, she wasn’t taking it personally, he could guarantee that, but nevertheless it was an emotion he was all too familiar with these days. 

Chaewon chuckled. “Don’t apologise for being happy and not needing me.” 

His heart twisted. 

She sensed his trouble. “Jin?”

He hesitated, looking down at the bottle of whisky sat at his desk. He was in his home office. “Something happened.” 

There was silence as his therapist processed his vague words before she pressed him gently, “Oh?” 

He took a breath. “Are you free to talk?” 

“Yes, of course.” 

“I’m sorry for calling you out of hours.” He apologised. “Don’t feel bad about billing me for this. I’ll even pay double.” 

“Seokjin, don’t be silly,” she told him softly.  “Let’s name this a friendship call. Now, what’s wrong?” She sensed the last bit of reluctance he was holding onto. “Come on, you can tell me anything.” 

He sighed. “I don’t know where to start.” 

“How about from the beginning?”

They spoke for an hour in the end, Chaewon listening attentively as he explained the weekend’s events. He left nothing out, or least what he could remember. He made no attempt to hide his wrongdoings or soften the story. He didn’t want to. He knew he had done wrong. She was sympathetic, but she didn’t mince her words when it came to her disappoint in him. 

After the argument he and Nana had gotten into just before Arin had moved in with him, he had worked hard with Chaewon to find a way to curb the anger he often felt when he and his ex-wife communicated. He thought he had been successful, but now he realised all he’d done was find ways to avoid it. He barely spoke to Nana unless he had to, a hello barely exchanged when she called in the evenings to speak to their daughter. A text shared to confirm when Arin would get picked up for the weekend, or one shared to cancel visits… He saw her even less. Jia, Nana’s PA and closest friend was the one who collected their daughter, and he knew it was because his ex-wife wanted to avoid him just as much. 

In the long term they had just been making things worse. That’s why last Sunday had been so bad. A build-up of every single frustration felt since the last time they’d seen one another, because no doubt Nana had her own list. It was a recipe for disaster. 

It felt good to confide in someone though, someone who knew him very well on a professional and personal level. Chaewon was amazing at putting him in his place so kindly. It was a gift really, and he appreciated it immensely. The older woman saw his negative traits but never judged him. She understood them and tried her best to help him with them. He guessed that was her job, but she did it so well it was hard not to see her as some sort of friend. 

That’s why when she asked to see him in person tomorrow he didn’t hesitate to free up his schedule. Truth was, he wanted it too. His mind was still clouded and he needed her insight. Her advice. He wanted a good night sleep too but he didn’t think that would be possible any time soon, no matter how much Chaewon tried to help him. Not when his sheets continued to smell like you…   

.

.

“It’s about time you both let go of the past.” 

Seokjin let Chaewon’s words sink in as he sat opposite her, nervously chewing on a nail. It wasn’t a habit of his, but it was somewhat of a distraction right now. A comfort. They should have let go of the past a long time ago. Maybe then they would have divorced sooner. Maybe then there would be less resentment…. 

“Arin is the one thing you have in common and you need to work together in order to be the best possible parents you can.” 

That cut his heart deep, a twinge similar to what he’d felt all week. Ever since you left. “I know,” he replied quietly. “It’s just…”

He couldn’t continue. Despite how he’d insinuated Nana was a bad mother, he didn’t think that deep down. They both loved their daughter equally, but that love was separate. It had been separate practically since she was born. Arin was missing their combined love, although she knew no different… 

“You need to let go of all that bitterness and resentment.” Chaewon continued. Words she had said fairly regularly for the last two years or so. “For your sake, for Arin’s…” But now there was a new addition. “…and Y/N’s.” 

Seokjin snorted. “Who said I haven’t scared her away already?”

Chaewon stare turned a little stern. “It was a shock to the system, anyone would need some time to process what happened.” When he stayed silent, she continued. “You have to make her see you’re trying your best to change things. You need to take responsibility for your actions.” 

“I will.” 

He wanted nothing more than to apologise profusely and answer any questions you had, but you’d requested time first and he was listening. He was just scared that time would work against him. He continued on, ignoring his deepest, darkest worry. 

“It’s not fair on her. She should never have witnessed all that, and it just drums in how unfair this has been to Arin her whole life.” Arin had been the witness to many an argument when he and Nana were still married. “I hurt the people closet to me because of my careless actions,” he concluded with a sad smile. Time after time. 

“And it’s not too late to change that,” Chaewon reminded. “Put a stop to all this nonsense.” 

Seokjin’s smile grew for a millisecond, feeling like a child getting told off. 

“Your marriage with Nana didn’t work out, that’s life. But you have a beautiful little girl together. That’s the most important thing, and it goes hand in hand with your own happiness.” She paused and then continued. “It’s very obvious that Y/N brings a great deal of that to the table.”

Yes, you did make him deliriously happy. He felt young again when he was with you. He felt invincible. Loved. He felt loved. 

“Concentrate on both of them – Arin and Y/N – and make some changes. Talk to Nana – civilly. Make this work and you can all be happy. I promise you that.” 

He had never heard Chaewon like this before, she was practically pleading with him. He let out a little laugh. “You make it sound so simple.” 

She simply smiled at him. “If you’re determined enough, it is.” 

.

.

“Mom wants to talk to you.” 

Seokjin looked at his phone outstretched in Arin’s hand with slight confusion. For the past four nights, ever since Sunday, Nana had spoken with Arin just before she had to get ready for bed. It was routine now, another avoidance, he exchanged a hello with her and then passed the phone on. Her tone less defensive as the days went on. Tonight had been the same despite his session with Chaewon this lunchtime. But to his surprise, maybe Nana was making the first move. 

He took the phone from Arin with a smile, not wanting to make her nervous. Usually he left her alone to speak to her mother, not wanting to pry or insert himself but tonight he was sat next to her on the sofa, replying to emails on his laptop. He hadn’t been listening at all, too engrossed with finalising details for an upcoming project, so of course it had come as a shock to find Arin passing the phone to him. 

“Hello?”

“I was just wondering if I could have Arin this weekend.” Nana totally bypassed a greeting of any kind, but she wasn’t demanding in her tone, nor defensive, it was just the way she was. She’d always been straight to the point, no time for pleasantries, and many years ago, when they’d first met, he’d found it highly amusing. 

“Um, of course,” he replied, taken back a little. He would be more than happy for her to have Arin. It wasn’t her weekend, but that had never bothered him before. He wanted Arin to see her as much as possible. It was only fair seeing as their daughter now lived with him. 

There was a brief silence before Nana spoke again. Had she been expecting him to say no? Surely not. But then again, after last weekend maybe her worries were valid. She found her bearings. “What time does she finish school? I’m taking Friday out, I’ll drive down and collect her.” 

Seokjin couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow in surprise. Nana had not once collected Arin herself. “She finishes at 3.”

Nana hesitated, “Do you think they’d let her finish early?” 

“I don’t know… It’s usually only emergencies –”

“Never mind,” she stopped him. “There was just a bunch of things I’d planned, thought we could get a head start, it’s fine.” 

He glanced over at Arin who was watching him hopefully. It was obvious what their phone call had entailed. They’d been making plans for the weekend and Arin was visibly excited. He smiled at her. 

“I could always phone the school tomorrow,” he suggested to Nana. “See if it’s possible. Maybe she could skip the whole day?” 

Nana sounded ecstatic. Something he hadn’t heard in years. “Really? Do you think there’s a chance they’d say yes?”

He shrugged to himself. “It’s just one day, I don’t see why not.” 

Nana was busy thinking. “Maybe I could take tomorrow afternoon away from the office too… Pick her up at 3.” 

It was his turn to hesitate now, opening his mouth ready to suggest something. He knew he owed his ex-wife an apology, but over the phone just wouldn’t do. He needed to see her. He went for it. “Or I could do it for you? I can drive her to you.” 

“You would do that?” She sounded shocked. 

“If she’s allowed to miss a day then yes.” 

“Oh.” It wasn’t often Nana was left speechless. “Okay,” she agreed after a moment. “That would be great actually.” 

His attention went back to Arin then, who was practically vibrating with excitement next to him. His replies hadn’t given away much, but it was enough to tell her she’d be seeing her mother this weekend – and possibly skipping a day of school. He grinned at her and she clung to his arm. 

“Can I say bye to mom?” 

“In a minute, Arin,” he chuckled, amused by her eagerness. “We’re not done yet.” His next sentence was directed at Nana. “I’ll text you tomorrow morning and let you know what the principal said.” 

For the first time in god knows how long there was no malice or sarcasm attached to her gratitude. “Thank you, Seokjin.” 

He took it as a positive sign. Things were changing. They would change. 

The next day he dropped Arin off at school himself. The plan had been to head to reception and ask if he could talk with Principal Jung in person, but after saying his goodbyes and watching Arin meet up with some friends in the playground he began to get second thoughts. What if he accidentally bumped into you? He was on pins even in the parking lot. He wanted to give you all the space necessary and the last thing you probably wanted to see was him walking towards you in the corridor. At work. 

No, instead he drove to his office, phoning the principal as soon as he’d finished up his morning meeting. Hoseok – as he’d been told to call him – was completely understanding. Seokjin didn’t even have to whip out the sob story about Arin missing her mom dearly. Dirty tactics were always the last resort, and he could talk a good game, but thankfully his skill wasn’t needed today. Arin was all set to go this evening. 

The drive wasn’t a long one thankfully, just under an hour as Nana lived in the neighbouring city. This wasn’t the first time he’d been to Nana’s penthouse, the place she’d bought after they’d sold their family home, but the last time had been pretty explosive. Not nearly as bad as last weekend, but close. Arin had thankfully been waiting in the car for him that time, as he and her mother argued over where she should live permanently.  

Seokjin stood beside Arin in the elevator, feeling nervous for the conversation he wanted to have. He was never above apologising when he was in the wrong, but with his ex-wife saying sorry had never come easily. It was childish and he knew he needed to change, so today was the perfect test. If he wanted a clean slate he had to be as honest as possible. 

“Mommyyy,” Arin squealed as she opened the door to greet them, barrelling into her practically. 

Seokjin stood back as they hugged, a soft smile on his face. 

“Arin, I missed you,” Nana informed her, breaking away to take her bag. As she did so, she glanced at Seokjin, then back at their daughter. “Listen, darling, go to your room for a little while so I can speak to daddy.” 

Seokjin felt a little relieved. At least they were on the same page – potentially. 

Arin though, was unsure, looking between her parents as she spoke. “I don’t want to. What if you argue again?”

He felt his heart break at her words. “We won’t, sweetie,” he reassured, bending down to look her in the eyes. “I promise.” 

She still looked dubious, but then Nana took over, her voice light and breezy.  “We won’t be long, okay? Think about what pizza you want to order for dinner.” 

Arin’s eyes lit up at that request and Seokjin couldn’t help but chuckle. That pizza obsession of hers was getting dangerous. “Okay,” she agreed easily, waving to him before she skipped off to the furthest part of the apartment. 

Seokjin watched her leave before rising up again, tugging down the ends of his jacket. Nana was looking at him, an unreadable expression on her face, but he knew it wasn’t anger she was feeling, so that was a plus. He thought back to Sunday, how mad they had both been, how upset Nana had looked as she’d rushed off. The guilt came back. 

He exhaled. He might as well just bite the bullet. “I’m sorry for calling you a terrible mother. I didn’t mean it.” 

Nana stayed silent but her arms wrapped around herself. It was such a vulnerable action, it took him by surprise. 

He continued. “I was just frustrated. I let things build up and exploded.” 

She stared him straight in the eyes, shoulders sagging a little but her voice was strong. “You know I love our daughter half to death.”

“I do,” he agreed. “I don’t doubt that.” 

She look relieved. It made him feel oddly sad. He had never wanted to make her doubt herself as a mother. He was a piece of shit. 

Still, she needed to understand some things. His point of view and where he was coming from. His frustrations weren’t all for nothing. They were valid. “But you have to understand I’m the one who has to pick up the pieces when you end up cancelling on her. It takes its toll.” 

Nana’s gaze flickered to the floor as she whispered. “I’m trying to be better.” Then she looked up again, her voice stronger. “I’m trying to free my weekends up. I’m trying not to do as much. I thought maybe I could even have her for an evening every weekday? I could pick her up from school, take her out for dinner. I know it’s a distance but maybe I could get every Wednesday afternoon away from work... Hopefully.” 

Seokjin was impressed. Nana lived and breathed work so to hear she was thinking about possibly taking an afternoon away every week was… It made him very happy. “She’d love that,” he grinned genuinely. “She misses you a lot.” 

Nana couldn’t help but smile too. “I miss her always.” With a slight chuckle she continued, “This apartment is so quiet without her.”

Seokjin looked down at his feet and grimaced slightly. He knew that feeling all too well. Living without Arin had been close to torture after the divorce. Everything felt so silent, the house gigantic and lonely. He hated the thought of Nana feeling the same way. “You can see her any time, Nana,” he murmured. “I’ll never try to stop you.” 

Despite everything, their grievances toward one another, they had and would always co-parent well. Arin was their number one priority and she needed both parents in her life. 

“I know that,” Nana nodded, “and I’d never try to take her from you.” 

It didn’t bear to think about, but he had to admit, sometimes it was easy for irrational thoughts to creep in when someone was left feeling insecure. 

“She loves living with you. She’s really settled at her new school, she never stops talking about her friends.” Nana continued, making small talk of sorts. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d done this. “She’s the happiest I’ve ever seen her.” 

Seokjin nodded in agreement. She loved her new school, her new friends – her new life, you could say. That was easy to see. 

Nana cleared her throat, dropping her arms to her sides. “I apologise too. I was out of line turning up at your door like that. I was just so mad... so hurt.” She took a few seconds. “I wish you’d just told me.” 

“I should have.” She was absolutely right. “I see that now and I regret it. It was wrong of me to keep my new relationship from you. I wasn’t doing it to be vindictive. I just...” he stopped himself. Even though they weren’t excuses, they felt like they were. His reasons didn’t matter.

“You should have been the first to know because of Arin. If I was in your shoes, if it was the other way around, I would have been angry too.” He stopped and sighed at his stupidity. “I never meant to hurt you, neither did Y/N. She actually had no clue you didn’t know until that day.” 

Nana’s eyes widened with shock, before she looked regretful. “Yeah, that one makes me feel even guiltier. I shouldn’t have spoken to her the way I did. It was a shock to hear Arin speaking about a stranger like that. A stranger I had no clue existed.” 

Seokjin appreciated her apology, but he needed to make sure she understood something. “Yeah, about that, Arin really has never called Y/N her stepmom. We’ve only been together for a few months. I spoke to her about it and Arin understands that’s not the case. It was just kids being kids.” 

Nana nodded. “I shouldn’t have flown off the handle, and I should have listened to your explanation the first time around.” 

He held her gaze. “I’m not trying to replace you, Nana.” 

If that’s what she was worried about, it wasn’t the case. He had never meant to compare the two women and he regretted it deeply. 

Nana’s lips quirked up at the side, her voice relaxed and at ease. “But eventually Arin will call her that.” 

His eyebrows shot up, understanding what she was getting at. “I don’t know,” he shook his head. His relationship with you was up in the air right now. He’d made one too many mistakes. 

Nana brushed him off with sway of her hand. “I guess I’ll learn to deal with it when the time comes.” 

He admitted defeat. “And I’ll have to do the same.” 

It was inevitable really. One day Arin would probably have two blended families and while he really wanted his to be with you, he didn’t want to get his hopes up right now. 

Nana snorted. “Fat chance of that happening. I don’t have time to fall in love again.” 

He stayed silent, unsure what to say. He’d thought the same once upon a time. Until you walked straight into his life. (Or, more fittingly, until he’d reversed straight into yours.) Everyone deserved love in their life and he hoped that one day his ex-wife would find it again. 

She was looking over at him sadly now, eyes softening, and it was almost jarring to see her show this much emotion in front of him. “I did love you, you know,” she murmured before laughing quietly at herself. “I felt like I never told you enough, but in the beginning it was good, right?” 

“It was.” Seokjin hated getting nostalgic, in fact, he actively avoided it, but in this moment he let himself go. Ten years ago, he and Nana had fallen hard for one another. It was fast and exhilarating but – “We just…” 

“Rushed into things that weren’t meant to be?” She finished for him. 

He’d been so eager to marry before he was thirty, to follow in his parents’ footsteps. He wanted, no, needed, to become CEO.  He needed to build something he could be proud of, and having a family fit into that logic. He’d had tunnel vision, but it wasn’t all bad. 

“I can’t regret it though,” he told Nana softly, “because we made Arin.” 

“At least we agree on one thing,” she chuckled. 

“Yeah,” he smiled. 

It was strange speaking like this with one another. He couldn’t even think of the last time something similar had happened. They were always too busy at one another’s throats, not listening to what the other had to say. Now all that fight had gone. They were both exhausted from years of bitterness. Years of fighting. 

He didn’t want to fight anymore. 

Nana seemed to think the same. 

“I’m ashamed she had to hear us fight like that,” she said. “I apologised on the phone but…” 

“She’s okay.” He reassured. “I think she still thinks it’s her fault a little though. I’ve tried telling her it wasn’t repeatedly.” 

“I’ll talk to her over dinner.” 

“Good idea.” 

There was a pregnant pause before Nana chuckled. “This is the first time we’ve spoken so civilly in a long time.” She hesitated, wanting to say something else. He waited patiently, curious. “Maybe we should think about talking it out with a professional?” 

He raised his eyebrows. It wasn’t a bad idea actually, but then… thing seemed to be working out well on their own right now. “Maybe we should see how things go first? Now that we know how one another feels.” They weren’t out of the dark yet, but it was looking hopeful. “But if you think it will help then I won’t refuse,” he added, wanting to show how seriously he was taking this. 

She smiled slightly. “Okay, we’ll see how things go.” 

It seemed like the conversation had run its course then, and Seokjin shuffled, about to suggest he head out now, but Nana spoke again. “Are you okay?” She asked. “No offence, but you look like shit.” 

He laughed, actually laughed, at her words. He could always count on her to be honest with him. “I haven’t been sleeping very well,” he admitted, “but talking with you definitely helped.” 

She eyed him doubtfully. “I hope I haven’t ruined things with you and Y/N. I can talk with her if you want?” 

“No, it’s fine,” he shook his hand. 

She looked down, feeling foolish. “I guess I did enough damage.” 

He chuckled. “No, pretty sure I did that all on my own.” 

Looking up, her mouth opened, as if she was about to ask him what he meant but stopped herself at the last second. She wasn’t there yet, and neither was he. 

He took a step back. “I should go.”

Nana went to follow him to the door. “I’ll have her back by Sunday. Do you want to say goodbye?” She saw his nod and called for their daughter, her voice echoing off the walls. “Arin? Arin, darling, come here and say bye to your dad.” 

A few seconds later he heard Arin’s footsteps getting closer, she hovered by the entryway, looking worried for a second, as if she was expecting the worst but then she saw her parents smiling faces and relaxed instantly. 

“I’ll see you Sunday, okay?” Seokjin told her as she made her way towards him. He reached to pick her up, something she scolded him over sometimes because it was “embarrassing” now. She was getting older, he kept forgetting, because to him she would always be his little girl. This time however, she let him do so, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed his cheek. 

“Okay, bye daddy. Love you.” 

“Love you, too,” he grinned, kissing her back before he put her down.

Nana watched on with a grin of her own. 

Being home alone was odd. Seokjin couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on his own. In the week Misook was here to help out with Arin and the housework, then every other weekend she often dropped in when he needed her. When the house wasn’t occupied by his daughter or Misook, you were here with him, so it had been quite a while since it was just him. It reminded him of the past, when he’d lived here all alone. He never wanted to go back to that. 

He was happy to see Friday roll around. It felt like he’d been waiting all his life. Just one more day and he’d get to speak to you. The lack of communication was killing him. Ever since you’d began dating you’d spoken every day. It felt strange to be without that, like he was missing a part of himself. He’d been able to distract himself with work throughout the week, but no amount of distractions could really stop him from thinking about you. Stop him from missing you. Because he did. Terribly. 

The photo on his desk didn’t help matters either – the two of you smiling together on the fishing trip he’d organised over the summer – but like hell was he hiding it away in a drawer. 

It was probably best that Arin was with Nana this weekend. It gave you both some time to talk and sort things out – hopefully. He was praying so hard that everything would be okay, but he was getting ready to fight for you. Just in case. Of course he would listen to what you had to say, and respect it too, but if it happened to be bad news he would try his best to make you see how sorry he was and how hard he was trying to change. He couldn’t lose you. Not when he loved you so much.

You made him want to be a better man. 

.

.

He got home pretty late from the office, staying just to avoid an empty house and after having a quick shower and ordering takeout, he decided on an early night. This week had been mentally and emotionally draining so it was probably for the best. Plus the sooner he slept the sooner tomorrow would come. 

He’d just stepped out of the bathroom when he heard his phone ring in his sweatpants pocket. He pulled the device out automatically, expecting it to be Namjoon, because who else would be calling at this time? But to his surprise and utter amazement, he saw your name flashing across his screen. 

His heart began to pound embarrassingly loud and he rushed to answer, sounding a little breathless as he murmured your name.

“Hey, you,” your replied, and he swore he could hear the smile in your voice. His shoulders instantly released the tension he hadn’t realised they’d been holding. 

“I wasn’t expecting you to call tonight.” He heard himself say, cursing himself because it sounded so dumb. He was over the moon you’d decided to call. Of course he was. 

“Sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” 

“Of course not,” he rushed. “Well,” he laughed, “I was just about to head to bed.” 

You laughed along softly, the sound making his heart sing. “I was going to wait until tomorrow but Soojung is with Taehyung tonight and being alone means I can’t stop thinking about you.” 

He couldn’t stop the sigh of relief that slipped past his lips. It was so good to hear you say that. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all week. Are you ready to talk? I’m willing to answer any questions you have.” He meant every word. 

“I’m ready,” you replied. “Should I come over? I don’t want to do this over the phone.” 

“I can come to you?” He suggested instead, not wanting you to go out of your way for him. “Arin’s with Nana until Sunday.” 

“Oh. Okay. Now?” 

“It’s not too late?” 

“No, it’s fine.” You sounded a little eager and that just made even more relieved. He’d been expecting the worst all along. “I really want to see you.” 

He smiled, happiness overwhelming him. “I’ll be there soon, okay? Really soon.” As he spoke he made his way into the closet, opening up his drawers to find a clean t-shirt. 

“Don’t speed,” you told him jokingly.  

“Of course I won’t,” he laughed. “I’m going to hang up now but I won’t be long.” 

“Okay, see you soon, Seokjin.” 

He couldn’t stop the grin on his face as he said his final goodbye, his heart racing with excitement as he tore off his old shirt to put the new one on. It was a little creased, but it would do. He didn’t have time to find anything else. 

He needed to see you. 

He needed to be with you. 

[helenazbmrskai]

Shush

Wow. I think this is the filthiest and the most messed up shit I’ve ever written in my whole life send me holly water pls (after you enjoyed reading this duh) I don’t know how this idea popped up in my mind one night but yeah don’t come at me.

💊Title ‹ Shush ›

💊Pairing ‹ Jimin x OC (f) ›

💊Genre ‹ adopted brother au, forbidden/unhealthy romance, smut, angst › 

💊Summary ‹ Forbidden fruit always taste the sweetest and when the fruit comes in the form of an innocent boy it’s even sweeter. ›

💊Warnings ‹ emotional manipulation, discussions about an incurable disease, unhealthy relationship dynamics, some fluff, multiple smut scenes filthy so be aware!, mention (and brief description) of sexual fantasies, sub! Jimin, soft domme! OC, teasing, mention of porn watching, brief imagined masturbation, corruption kink, first time, virgin! Jimin, blowjob, handjob, good boy Jiminie, jealous OC, oral (f), fingering, unprotected sex (don't do this be safe!), exhibitionism, marking/biting, almost getting caught, dirty talk, riding, pls keep in mind that this is only fiction! don’t do this folks ›

💊Word count ‹ 6k ›

💊Masterlist

Brushing the snowflakes off my coat’s shoulder, I take a look around the spacious living room soaking in the warmth and waiting for my fingers to defrost, hearing nothing besides the wind that blows outside. Checking the clock on the wall I recall that mom should be still at work at this time around, nothing’s new.

I silently make my way upstairs then halting once I’m in front of Jimin’s bedroom door that has a big J on it. Mom would be upset if she knew I didn’t check on him first thing when I got home so I knocked once then twice before I heard muffled noises from the other side and the shuffle of sheets followed by a loud bang of something hard suddenly hitting the ground. The sound itself quite concerningly rings in your ears.

”Are you alright?” I place my palm on the wooden surface concentrating on the noises that I faintly hear filtering through the door, biting down on my lip as I still didn’t get an answer from him.

”Ok. I’m coming in!” I tell him after a couple of seconds of silence, I gave him enough time to yell out that he’s fine. I’m ready to burst through the door when his voice squeaks out a tiny unconvincing ’I’m good.’ but my hand is already on the doorknob. His body lays slightly off the bed when I enter his room, the bed under him is unmade and his hair is dishevelled sticking to different angles from all the tossing and turning looking soft, wearing only a thin white shirt and pyjama pants to bed. Probably haven’t gotten up from it all day.

”You fell off the bed again?” I chuckle, sending him an amused look spiced with an arched eyebrow – it’s not the first time I see him in this position – shaking my head from side to side, though my eyes reveal that I’m not angry just amused. I grab both his knees and help him to lay flat against the pillows just like he was most likely laying before. His eyes glow like a lightstick with a beaming smile on his face.

”Y/N, you’re home early.” Arching up a brow himself he situates his body to rest his back against the headboard interrogating the cause of my early arrival with a slightly hoarse voice. Jimin looks into a specific direction frequently enough for me to spot his staring. I reply to his statement with a roll of my eyes brushing his hair gently to the side after I checked he indeed has no fever. Giving him the benefit of the doubt that I have no idea he’s trying to hide something I smile back.

I scan through his room hoping to find out by the order of things are placed what he was doing before I got home, it’s easy to spot the differences since I’m the one who usually cleans in here but besides his laptop that sits on the far end of the bed instead of the desk, nothing else seems out of place.

”Why? Were you doing something you shouldn’t be?” I grin, at first the question was intended to be innocent but watching how Jimin’s face contorts into a scandalized look I know he’s up to no good. His expression soon gets replaced with shyness unintentionally a boyish blush spreads across his rosy cheeks. It gets me even more curious.

He gained some weight over the past weeks so his features are almost healthily filled out, the new medication seems to work better than the doctors had anticipated and right now he has minimal symptoms.

Mom must be pleased by the outcome, he regained so much colour to his pale skin too. I witnessed all his ups and lows, I still remember the day I met him. He was in a bad shape, bedridden, so pale and skinny like a skeleton. He couldn’t even sit up on his bed to greet me and when he opened his eyes hearing my mom’s voice calling out to him I came face to face with his teary eyes, hands grabbing his chest to ease the pain that he felt crawling his way up from under his ribcage as a silent tear rolled down his cheeks. He got better when mom decided to take him out of the care system and switched doctors to look after his further treatment.

I regarded him as a responsibility at the beginning of our relationship made sure he took his medication between meals just like my mother instructed. Cleaned his room and made him food when my mother was busy with work. She’s a nurse at the local hospital, she left me alone with him a lot, her job consumes a lot of her time so I had to take care of him almost every day after school even had to take a few days off so I can stay at home when his condition started to get worse and he needed more supervision than usual.

Be that as it may, he had his better days that I started to like so much, spending time with him stopped being an obligation and instead, the time spent together started to be the highlights of my days.

Listening to his angelic laugh, having him listen to me talking about my day. No boy or man ever paid this much genuine attention to me, only him. He has his eyes only on me.

His fierce response makes me come to my senses, dragging me out of my own consuming thoughts.

”Of course not!” He defensively spats my hands away when I try to pinch his cheeks. He looks very pretty when the sun shines on his face. He looks like an angel.

”Oh really? I guess it’s fine then to show me your laptop’s search history. How about right now?” I move faster than he can snatch the device so I’m able to get it and open his tab before he even lets a leg down to plant his feet on the ground.

However, I was not expecting to find something this interesting in his log history. Looking between the screen and his red face I tilt my head to the side seemingly deep in my thoughts. It’s not that I never acknowledged the fact that he’s a man in his mid-twenties and because of his unfortunate susceptibility to having a systemic autoimmune disease he never had the chance to socialise like it’s a norm for most people. The only other’s he meet day by day are my mother and I since he can’t go out because of his photosensitivity.

Maybe I could blame the stars that never flickered out of his naive eyes for the past ten years I’ve known him for not thinking that Jimin could have dirty thoughts. Well, this porn page clearly states otherwise.

I know it’s inappropriate to think about Jimin, my adopted brother, in this way but I can’t find it in me to stop the spiralling thoughts.

Wondering if he masturbates while watching these videos when I’m in school. How he grabs his cock with shaky hands, cute fingers coated in his precum. Wondering if he uses the same hand to hold mine innocently after he did dirty things to himself. I subconsciously rub my thighs together to ease some of the tension that gathered between my thighs, even fantasising about him makes me feel hot.

I feel bad thinking about him inappropriately when he’s sick but I can’t seem to feel the shame when I look directly into his bright eyes now. The rational part of my brain screams that it’s inappropriate even though we are not blood-related.

Heck, not at all as mom adopted him when his last remaining family member, his father died ten years ago.

Jimin’s facial expression is like an open book I read him so well. Poor boy can’t even lie everything he thinks about is apparent on his pretty face.

Afraid that I’ll call him names he lowers his gaze, waiting for me to tell him that I’m disappointed and disgusted by him now that I discovered his dirty little secret that he rubs one out to porn but oh boy he has no idea. That I think about him in a way a sister shouldn’t. That there is nothing wrong with being curious. He has all the right to be. It’s easy to forget he’s older than me when I’m the more experienced one in everything.

”Hey it’s ok,” I get to my previous position, sitting down on the edge of his bed right next to his waistline. I curl a finger under his chin to level his face with mine, showing him a small smile indicating that everything’s gonna be alright.

”I watch porn sometimes too, there’s nothing to be ashamed of here Jiminie. It’s only natural to be curious about it. It’s human nature.” He avoids making eye contact but a tiny nod in my direction shows me that he’s listening.

”If you want I promise I’ll forget that this ever happened. Do you want that honey?” Nudging his pinky with mine I offer him the chance to change the topic to something light.

”You won’t tell mom about it, right?” Nodding my head in agreement I assure him that this piece of information can be our secret and no one has to know that this conversation ever happened. It appears to calm him down gradually as he finally reciprocates my gaze and sighs in relief. What you didn’t expect to hear after that, however, was an explanation of why he started watching porn.

”I want to know how it feels.” Jimin admits shyly, looking around to avoid my eyes as he tells me his hidden thoughts and I find him truly endearing. The previous tense atmosphere seems to completely fade away as Jimin relaxes his muscles against the bedsheet and opens up his heart.

”What? Sex?” I asked, watching his reactions closely as I experimentally place my palm above his right knee. An innocent touch.

Jimin shivers into the contact but other than that nothing remarkably changes in his behaviour or posture. He pays careful attention to not let his feelings show up on his otherwise expressive face. Cute. Sooner or later I’ll know how he really feels about my advances as he can’t keep pretending for long. He was never good at it.

”Yes. They seem to like it so much when I’m watching those videos.” Humming approvingly I rest a manicured nail at the edge of his waistband, this earns a sharp inhale of breath but he doesn’t try to remove my touch that indicates he’s not uncomfortable with me touching him. He doesn’t seem bothered, just a little sheepish.

”You know, a video is nothing compared to the real thing.” I let a single finger slide under his shirt drawing circles into his hipbone eyes watching the way his chest moves up and down a little faster at that.

”What a shame that you don’t know pretty girls to have sex with.” Deciding it’s time to remove my hand I’m letting the limb fall to my side lazily. Jimin’s lips immediately form a pout after I stop making advances on his body, showing me that he was expecting something more. All this time I thought he doesn’t see me like I see him but maybe I was wrong assuming that. Gaining confidence I decide it’s time to push his buttons a little more.

”I’m sure girls would form long lines to get into your pants baby. I wouldn’t be surprised since you are so pretty.” The praise makes his ears bright red, mother did a good job with giving him a boyish undercut a good fashion choice to leave the tips longer so I can easily comb my fingers through it, curling a few strays behind his ears.

”Y-Y/N.” A breathy moan leaves his lips as I kiss the underside of his jaw on impulse, finding stability by grabbing onto his thighs to lean closer and breathe in his clean scent. I push him against the headboard but he doesn’t mind it at all, too lost in the moment, feeling my lips on his throat to register any pain.

I pull away slightly to reconnect our eyes. Jimin licks his dry lips, not having anyone to talk to until I arrived home, he kept his mouth shut only feeling now how dry his throat is all of the sudden.

A ghost of a smile appears in the corner of my mouth as I realise Jimin is watching my lips not even trying to conceal his desire to have another taste of the forbidden fruit. This is so wrong but his lips are so light against mine, afraid that if I apply pressure somehow this moment will end and I don’t want this to ever end but as the saying goes, nothing lasts forever in life.

The magical moment ends when I hear my mother’s voice from downstairs. ”Y/N, Jimin I’m home!”

The cheerful voice of my mother abruptly interrupts our first shared kiss, not letting him chase the taste of my cherry lip balm I place a small peck on his nose instead yelling back that we’re upstairs and we’ll be down in a minute.

”No need to rush,” I peck his forehead this time, giving his face small kisses to lift his mood. It’s comical how disappointed he looks with his nose scrunched up adorably. He really has no shame as he sighs licking his lips to taste the remaining flavour of our kiss.

”We can continue this tomorrow, we have so much time, I promise...”

And continue we do. True to my word I comply with his request pulling the oversized t-shirt over my head to reveal him my black lacy bra and the curve of my waist. His eyes devour the new uncovered flesh hands lingering in the air itching to touch my bare skin but too shy to do it without my permission. He remains frozen in the act. Dreamy eyes watching my reaction to his shy movements silently asking for a sign that it is alright to touch. He’s so curious he wants to hear those noises the couples always make in his videos.

I nod putting him out of his misery cradling his hand in mine to place the warm palm onto my covered breast I guide his movements fondling the flesh, his touch feels good despite the barrier between his skin and mine.

Slipping his hand under the cup his finger comes into contact with my nipple I show him how to circle the bud until it gets erect a small sigh escaping my lips. I had the sudden urge to steal a kiss so I leaned in to grab the back of his neck and crush our lips together no tongue just lips touching sweetly.

I removed his touch to intertwine our fingers placing both of our hands to rest against the bed leaning into his mouth more.

”Is that all that you want me to do?” I murmur the words into his mouth, encouraging him to say more, to do more. Jimin swallows the saliva in his mouth gaze significantly cloudy as he stares into my eyes, shaking his head. He got so far the current thoughts in his head are clearly not about stopping anytime soon.

”What else do you want then?” I press him to answer my question, following the line of his upper lip with my thumb smearing the lip balm that got transferred from my lips to his while kissing, Jimin took a shaky breath before opening his mouth.

”Y-your tongue.” His tongue seemingly came out subconsciously to wet his lips I closed my eyes moaning at the sinful image. He really did his research, I’m about to give him everything he wants if he keeps up with these innocent yet so dirty looks.

”Where do you want it?” I grin moving closer so our thighs are firmly pressed together letting go of his hand to cup his face with both hands. Bending my head to peck the outline of his vein on his neck his pulse quickens under my touch. Pleased to have had such a great effect on him.

”In my mouth.” He squeaks out his response when I bite into his shoulder careful not to really pierce his skin but let him feel a moderate amount of pain mixed with his pleasure. I smooth my tongue where I bit making sure that I don’t leave any marks on his perfect skin. I don’t want our mother to ask questions later.

”Hm,” I hum into his neck satisfied by the answer before lining our faces again to fulfil his wish. ”Open.” As soon as I command his lips part obediently waiting for me to slip my tongue into his awaiting mouth.

”Jimin. Can I touch you?” I sigh into his mouth, he tastes so sweet I can’t seem to get my fill as I discover every corner of his hot cavern licking the roof teasing him before letting our wet muscles touch in a heated battle for dominance. Jimin gets greedy soon as he pushes my tongue back to do the exploration of his own, the kiss turns sloppy and too much saliva. Hands clutching onto the duvet under him grounding his body swimming in euphoria from falling too deep into the feeling.

”Yes, please.” Our eyes open slightly to watch each other my mouth founds the corner of his lips then the side of his cheek and jaw before diving back in parting his lips with my tongue to continue tasting him.

With a feather-light touch, I snake my hands upwards his thin frame and tiny waist feels so fragile under my fingers. I want to pepper his torso with my kisses pushing his body down using his shoulders to see his weight bounce on the bed. But I can’t get so ahead of myself, Jimin deserves to be worshipped like the angel he is.

”Lay down on your back Jiminie.” I smile seeing how obedient he is following my orders without any complaints or questions. He trusts me so much.

The thought alone that he is under me letting me have my ways with him makes my underwear sit uncomfortably against my heat when I move my legs to straddle his hips I feel how drenched I am for him. So pretty and so eager under me as his head rests on the pillows he truly looks like an innocent angel.

I motion for Jimin to raise his arms so I can get rid of his shirt and finally do what I intended to do and kiss his body starting from his collarbones all the way to the line where his pyjama pants hide the delicious lines of his hip bones.

I press kisses of praises into his shoulder blades moving down following the line of his sternum to give attentive licks and pecks all over his stomach feeling his muscles tensing under my lips whines and other sweet sounds slipping out of his parted lips as he breathes heavily through his nose with his eyes closed.

When I let a couple of fingers slide under his pants I realise the lack of material under my touch. He’s not wearing his boxers. The outline of his dick is evident when I look down he’s not that long but where he lacks his grith makes up for it as I can already imagine how good he would feel buried in me stretching my walls so good.

”Do you want me to touch your pretty cock darling?” I don’t forget to ask for permission even though by now I can clearly see how much he wants all this. The sight itself, how his member strains against the concealing fabric is an awfully clear giveaway of his growing desires. Jimin maintains our eye contact with hooded eyes nodding his head fervently before he can confirm his needs with words. His body burns but not with fever.

”I..yes, please. I w-want you to.” Jimin squirms waiting for me to do something that would relieve some of the tension in his joints. His cock feels heavy in my hand ready to sink into my cunt anytime, I can’t wait to put my mouth around it first but I have to be patient. I circle a digit around the tip testing how much precum he has for me.

Holding the digit up to my lips I taste the slightly salty substance humming approvingly. Tugging his pants down I get to work giving a kiss to the tip before coating his member with my saliva so I can lubricate his shaft enough so it won’t hurt him. His whole body shakes when my mouth makes contact with his cock his virgin body overwhelmed with the new sensation the little pleasure already too much for him to handle.

I make a mental note about grabbing some lube on my way home tomorrow so I can be prepared for situations like this. My lips suddenly widen into a Cheshire grin as I deliver the last lick all the way up to the hilt replacing my mouth with my hand.

”Jiminie look here for a little.” I coax him to open his eyes again with a sweet voice. ”Like that darling.” I praise him when his eyes met mine, choosing the moment his gaze connects with mine to use the same hand that pleasured him to glide under my jeans and underwear mixing my arousal with his precum I moan for the show as I rub my clit before collecting my essence so I can use it on his dick giving him the needed extra lubricant.

Jimin’s eyes don’t stay open for long when I finally touch him properly with the intent of making him cum. He can’t seem to keep his moans and throaty whines to himself as I give him a confident grip increasing the speed of my wrist when his whines became more high pitched his body gives away all the signs when he shakes under my touch that he’s close embarrassingly fast but I don’t mind, it’s his first time after all. We can always work on his stamina later.

”Relax baby and just enjoy this.” I encourage him to let go, massaging his thighs with my free hand to relax his strained muscles, slowing down my strokes but give special treatment to the tip collecting the forming precum. ”There’s no need for you to hold back.” I peck his hip picking up my pace again for a few moments longer before taking him into my mouth waiting for him to cum swirling my tongue over the tip repeatedly.

”Y-Y/N.” My name comes out in moans like a broken record when he finally lets all the tension seep away from his body letting the building pleasure force him into submission as he cums into my mouth his body goes limp when the pleasure fades away after I let him ride out his high with gentle licks.

I place the duvet over his sleepy form after I help him back into his clothes, tucking him in as I kiss his cheek to say ’sleep tight’ with the gesture.

I toss the food around on my plate in front of me tentatively listening to the conversation held between my parent and her guest but not engaging, sinking my fork into the broccoli angrily as I hear Natalie’s sugar-coated voice destined for only Jimin’s ears to catch.

She leeched herself onto him as soon as she stepped into this house annoying me with saying stuff like ’you have such a nice brother’ just to emphasise my relation to him. Even my mom takes her side saying that they look cute together.

I know she wants Jimin to socialise, that’s why this dinner is purposefully held in the first place but I can’t seem to show a different emotion than disgust when I look at Natalie trying to woo my Jimin. She will never know how he sounds when he’s about to blow his load or how he would taste against her tongue because only I can see that side of him no one else, and especially not her.

  His ears are red from her constant compliments and I swear I even saw her hand grip his shoulder when she laughed about something my mom said, he shies away from her because he never kept a conversation going on with another girl that wasn’t me or my mom before but that doesn’t mean jealousy doesn’t bubble up in my chest when he doesn’t deny her advances explicitly.

The dinner continues for an awfully long time before I could excuse myself from the table to hide away in my room and peacefully start yelling into my pillow to relieve my pent up frustration throughout this unpleasant meal.

Either Jimin genuinely didn’t have a clue what she was implying or he was aware but fine with it I don’t want to waste any more time and watch her all over him. I continued sulking in my room when I heard a knock on my door grunting a ’yes’ before I resembled smashing my keyboard I suddenly felt the urge to complete that assignment I procrastinated on so I can keep my mind focused on something else.

I avert my gaze from the screen to see who’s my intruder but I refocus on my computer when I see it’s Jimin. I’m not in the mood to talk to him right now since the picture of Natalie all over him is the first image to enter my mind.

”What? Dinner’s over so soon?” I’m careful to use an unaffected tone when I speak up, holding myself back from making eye contact even though I would love to see his face, we haven’t got time all day to talk or cuddle at all since I had to help my mother all evening to prepare for this dinner that was a waste of time anyway.

Jimin stays silent not bothering to answer my question but I still refuse to look at him as I pretend to be absorbed in my work. Even if it’s far from reality when the only thing consuming my thoughts right now is that I want him to tell me no one else is going to touch him only I can make him feel that good. That he wants. No, needs only me.

”A-are you angry? Please don’t be.” I still don’t turn around and looks like it makes him desperate for my attention he thugs at my blouse but I don’t react.

I want him to panic take over his body so he won’t do this to me again. I have to busy my fingers with typing so I don’t move to card my fingers through his locks like I long to do when he lays his head on my lap kneeling on the ground to do so. I don’t push his head away but doesn’t react either.

Half an hour passes in this manner, only my typing is heard in the otherwise silent room Jimin’s head still resting on my thighs hands circling my waist. I’m halfway done with my assignment when I feel Jimin’s nose nudge my centre. I showered after I excused myself from the dinner to blow off some steam and calm down grabbing only a pair of underwear and a shirt to cover my body with.

Jimin placed a kiss on my clothed clit making my body jerk in surprise forcing me with his bold actions to finally look at him our gaze locks as soon as I look down. Jimin folds the sides of my blouse so he can get access to the rest of my underwear following my panty line with his nose.

”Can I make it up to you?” Jimin looks up with innocent eyes that have my stomach twist in excitement but I try not to show him how much he can affect me as well. I’ll still make him pay for his actions.

”So you know you did something wrong.” I scoff but it ends up in a gasp when he licks the front of my underwear without a warning.

I grip his hair to keep him in place holding him close enough so his head still rests on my thighs but not that close to letting him lick my centre again. He’s playing dangerous games right now but I don’t know if I have it in me to be gentle with him.

���You should stop before I can’t guarantee that I won’t lose my control.” I warn him through my gritted teeth, closing my eyes for a moment to focus on my breathing, his eyes grew bigger for a moment before the previous shocked expression morphs into something else.

He can’t reach my cunt from where he’s restrained by my hands so he licks the inner side of my thigh his teeth nibbling on my sensitive skin.

  I loosen my grip on his hair smoothing the silky locks out of his eyes but he cleverly uses the gesture to scoot forward and have another taste placing a more confident lick stretching the rubberband side of my panty with his teeth sliding his hands over my stomach that was previously so obediently circling my waist.

”You don’t have to do it.” I remind him, feeling out of breath from his kitten licks over my clothed mound.

”I know.” Jimin replies with a sweet smile adorning his face before he pulls my underwear down my legs slowly, watching with interest as I part my legs so he can have a good look at my glistening core.

”The girls from the videos always like it when the boy does this.” Jimin murmurs under his breath absentmindedly before rubbing my clit with his fingertips his digits dipping lower to catch where most of my arousal gathers a single digit nudging my entrance. I part my legs more so he can get more comfortable between them I let him get familiar with my most intimate part before I pull his hand away with shaky fingers.

”Taste it.” I order for him to pop his fingers into his mouth licking my arousal clean from them and he doesn’t disappoint as he does.

Now that his fingers are coated with his saliva I guide it back to my core. ”Want your finger in me.” I throw my head back when he enters, my walls sucking his finger in his movements are inexperienced and uncoordinated but I let him experiment until he gets the hang of it, and oh when he does. His one finger turns into two soon as he finds the best way to pound into my wet cunt curling the digits just the right way to make me see stars. ”Doing so good Jiminie.” I tell him between heavy pants as the rhythmical hard thrusts of his fingers starts to become too much to handle I feel my insides tighten just like my walls tighten around his fingers getting closer and closer.

I open my eyes to watch him lean down his hair tickling my inner thighs as he nestles between my legs licking at my clit while the movement of his hand never falters, the new stimulus that his visual between my legs and his tongue on my nub adds to the feeling, making me come undone around his fingers.

”Stand up baby.” I motion for him to stand as well, his finger slips out of my hole, with a confused expression plastered on his face but doesn’t question my intentions as he obligates standing on his wobbly feet I let him sit down to where I was before straddling his hips.

”Are you going to let me ride your cock? Make you mine?” I ask him using my sweetest tones before slowly kissing his lips making sure to map out his mouth once more before turning my attention to kiss the expanse of his neck.

”Yes. Fuck yes.” The way how the curse word slipped through his mind without him noticing is endearing, he can always surprise me with something doesn’t matter how much time I dedicate to learning his body and soul, he’ll always have layers to discover. These good days sometimes even weeks when his illness hides its ugly face into the background are so precious that I wish we could always be like this.

I situate my body so I can pull his sweats down I pleasantly discover that he doesn’t wear his underwear when his dick slaps against his stomach. I reach for one of the drawers where I know I placed the lube.

I squeeze some into my hand before wrapping my fingers around his fully hardened shaft smearing the lube over him Jimin whines when he feels the cold liquid hit his hot member moaning once I roll my wrist the way he seems to like so much. Have enough of the foreplay I position him in front of my entrance making eye contact with him before taking him in letting him have the chance of backing out.

Jimin’s thighs shake as I take him in fully he tries muffling his moans by biting down on my shoulder so our guests don’t find out what we are doing in my room. With a smirk on my face, I roll my hips getting the best responses as Jimin tries to hold back his cries tightening his hold on my waist to slow my thrusts down but I don’t listen to him as I start to grind down on him letting his member pull out almost all the way before sinking down enjoying how good he fills me up.

I slow down as a knock is heard at my door Jimin’s eyes widen in fear but I don’t let him move an inch as I silently take my seat with his cock buried between my folds he holds back a moan when I clench around him.

”Mom?” I call out to her, my voice a bit shaky but I was able to mask it away enough that it doesn’t sound suspicious.

”Are you alright? Can I come in?” I hear her worried voice, she probably heard Jimin’s louder cries and she thinks something’s wrong. At this moment I’m really glad that my mom is very dense.

”I’m feeling unwell so I’m going to sleep immediately but you go and have fun with the guests don’t worry.” I offer her my reply as I circle my waist can’t keep still as Jimin’s dick feels heavenly it shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does seeing how pathetically he tries to prevent my mother from hearing his moans but his innocent facade can’t fool me as I feel him twitch inside me as I talk to my mother while he’s balls deep in my cunt. I wonder if he wants us to get caught or that he would like me to fuck him in front of Natalie on our dining table so she can see she never had a chance with him.

”Fine but come and get me if you need anything.” She leaves with these last words without further protests and I thank her while bouncing on Jimin’s lap silencing his cries by kissing him hard. 

”What mom would think if she saw you in this situation Jiminie? Fucking me while you pretend to be an angel in front of her. Kissing her cheek with the same lips that were buried between my legs moments prior.” I whisper next to the shell of his ear he lets out embarrassed whines but I can feel him enjoy how I fuck myself using him.

My thighs ache as I increase the pace feeling so close again I guide Jimin’s hand between our bodies to make him rub at my clit he does it messily but it’s enough stimulation as I cum again watching as Jimin’s eyes squeezed shut close to reach his own high.

[flower-slut004]

Sociopath

(( Might make this into a series not sure yet))

Summary: Who would’ve thought that the BAU’s very own YN was an unsub as well as Luke’s partner?

Note: Purple is lyrics/ Not gender-specific/ Italics is a flashback / Blue is YN as well as lyric change.

The feelings I caught.

Luke couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to believe it. YN LN, the person he grew to love was sitting in front of him covered in the blood of their victim.

He thought back to the day where he met them when he was confused about his feelings every damn time they were around, and the day where he realized he fell for them. Hard.

“Damn it....” Luke groaned as he slammed the phone down at his desk. “Normally I’d look away since it’s usually not my business but you slamming the phone caused me to spill my water....so...spill” they joked as they cleaned up.

“Sorry... it’s really not a big deal. I don’t know why I acted out like that....” Luke remembers as he apologized that day by helping them clean up the mess.

“Clearly it is for you to slam the phone... so I”m going to ask you again Alvez.... what’s wrong,” YN asked with an intimidating look.

Luke should’ve taken that look as a hint something was wrong about them. It was like a light switch went off inside YN's head.

Luke remembers how he felt uneasy after receiving that look. He mentally slapped himself for not doing anything but he didn’t he was already infatuated with them.

“There isn’t a kennel available for Roxy this week and everyone I know is out of town...I can’t take her and I hate leaving her alone” Luke sighs as he admits what’s been eating him.

Luke’s eyebrows furrowed when he heard YN muffle a laugh. It soon turned into an eerie laugh as they kept apologizing.

“I’m sorry I should feel offended right now” YN wiped a fake tear from their face. Luke’s face scrunched up “I’m sorry what?”

“You said everyone you know is out of town right? I’m not out of town. I’m right here” YN answered back in a bored tone. “I’ll take care of her, plain and simple” they shrugged.

“Wait....you’d really do that?” Luke raised his eyebrows. “Of course, I adore animals. It wouldn’t be a problem” YN confessed.

Luke knew it was dumb but in a moment of stress with Roxy. He fell in love with YN and their oh-so-kindness.

The time that I lost

“Five years....we’ve known each other for five years and been together for those two years...” Luke’s voice shook with anger as he stared down at YN.

YN stayed quiet with a Cheshire cat grin as they laid their head in the palm of their hand.

Luke’s nostrils flared as he began to grow angry at their silence. “Well?” he slammed his hands on the table.

“Five years we’ve known each other and been together for those two years. It took you this long to finally realize...I thought I was dating BAU agent” YN mocked as they looked over to the two-way mirror to admire their work.

“Hey” Luke snapped his fingers “I wasted five years on you” he snarled

“No...you wasted five years not saving those people.”

Yeah I feel ashamed

Luke was taken aback by their comment. He didn’t know what to do. He just felt like screaming until his face felt hot.

He always thought YN was a little odd but took it as their quirk. He squeezes his eyes shut at the thoughts of all the victims he could’ve saved if he just snapped out of his puppy dog love for them.

“You really didn’t find it weird that I would come home late? Or how my nails were always trimmed to the brim? Or when-“ YN was cut off by Luke storming away.

“Hey hey....” Penelope tried comforting him as he entered the other side.

“I...We could’ve saved them....” He rasps out to the team.

Embarrassed with rage,

“Luke I know it’s not easy but don’t blame yourself....” Emily sighs.

“No....no no It’s my fault. It’s my fault those people died because I was too in love with them to see it. I was too oblivious to YN. God damn, I’m a freaking BAU agent. I should’ve known” Luke kicked a chair at the last part.

“They tricked me.....they humiliated me. I never thought YN would do something like this” Luke lets out a shaky breath.

“They tricked us all, We never thought they would do this either. You’re not the only one who feels this way” Rossi speaks up not taking his eyes away from YN.

Rossi grimaced as he saw YN making faces at the mirror “I know you’re out there” they sang.

“You know, talking behind someone’s back is a coward move” YN teased knowing how to push Luke’s buttons.

The other night your mom passed away.

The team just got a call about the whereabouts of the serial killer they were hunting down. It didn't take Luke another minute to realize it was YN"s mother's house.

He informed the team as he rushed out of the building and went straight to the cars as the rest followed.

As soon as they arrived at the house, everyone jumped out, Luke being the fastest he ran to the door and didn't take a moment to knock.

Kicking the door down, the BAU team was met with horror. Yn's mother was laying on the kitchen floor with stab wounds. The knife was still jammed in.

The team felt sick to their stomachs, not knowing how to tell YN when they get back from "training" in Boston.

And it was weird that you just went about your day and didn't even shed a tear.

When YN arrived to the building the next morning, they felt eyes on them. All eyes were on them giving them sympathetic looks.

YN hated that, they hated the looks they were receiving. They wanted to shout from the roof tops what they have done. They wanted fear out of them, not sympathy.

YN always wondered what it felt like...to feel bad about something. To feel sad for someone or to cry for someone. They never understood that part of emotions.

Lost in their thoughts they didn’t hear Luke’s voice calling out to them. “YN” Luke spoke louder as he placed a hand on their shoulder.

“Hm? Sorry I’m not in the right mind space right now” They sighed. Luke felt guilty knowing he was about to make their day worse.

“Let’s talk in private..” He motions over to the empty conference room. YN followed along with a deep sigh.

“YN....last night we got a clue about the unsub....” Luke spoke up. YN tried covering their small grin, thinking they figured it out it was them all along.

“YN....the unsub was at your mothers house....YN.....I’m sorry but your mom died...” Luke rasps out in a shaky tone. He loved their mother, she always welcomed him with open arms.

“Oh....okay” YN nodded feeling uncomfortable at the sight of Luke’s tears.

Luke’s eyebrows furrowed “Okay? YN are you okay? Your mother is dead” he wipes his face.

“I heard you the first time, life happens. We gotta move on. Cmon let’s go see what Penelope has for us”

Luke remembers that day clearly, he still hates himself for this day for not noticing that big red flag.

I feel bad, you don't feel bad. Sad, you don't feel sad.

With that memory refreshed in his brain, Luke went marching right back in and towards YN.

“Oh goodie you’re back. I missed you” YN smiled as they eyed them up and down.

“You didn’t bring a tranquilizer didn’t you?” they teased as they saw Luke turn red.

“I’m done with this whole situation, I’m done with you YN....yes...I feel sorry for the victims families. I feel sorry for myself for ever falling in love you. Most of all. I feel sorry you don’t feel bad.” He huffed.

“I feel sorry that you look at how you left your victims to the point of being unrecognizable and you don’t feel bad about it.” he slams the photos down.

Luke leans over the table closer to you “Damn....I feel sad you’re not going crazy after killing your mother” He shook his head as he leaned back.

YN couldn’t help it, looking at their artwork and seeing Luke’s face. They bursted out into tears.

Luke grew more furious “What.” he yelled

“All this time...I just wanted to feel something....seeing you in anger....made me realize. I finally feel something” they giggled.

“Bet you didn’t know I was a sociopath”

[angstymdzsthoughts]

I promised that I would share the convo me and @time-flies-by​ had earlier today regarding the Maleficent AU post, so here it is!

-

time-flies-by Dude that Maleficent AU-

angstymdzsthoughts I knoooow

angstymdzsthoughts It got a bit dark on me

time-flies-by It did, but goddamn was it good!

angstymdzsthoughts Right? I'm super happy with it

time-flies-by As you should! It actually gave me chills

angstymdzsthoughts WWX goes to sleep in his husbands arms, happy and in love. Wakes up to that husband mutilating him Thank you!!!

time-flies-by The best part, is that LWJ doesn’t even see anything wrong with it. He’s just like, “it has to happen”

angstymdzsthoughts Yep! Just another part of getting married to him

time-flies-by WWX definitely leaves understanding Madam Lan a lot better.

angstymdzsthoughts Oof LWJ grows up around spouses who seem perfectly happy with life after losing their wings And his mother, who still had her wings, was miserable So he thinks hes actually helping to make WWX happier

time-flies-by Double oof WWX really doesn’t understand what he was getting himself into.

angstymdzsthoughts Oh my god other spouses try to warn him (in a quiet subtle way so their husbands don’t get upset)

angstymdzsthoughts All the Lans are taught that this is a special, intimate experience between spouses

angstymdzsthoughts I feel like Su She is jealous that LWJ got to experience that and is vindictively happy when WWX ran away

time-flies-by Oh my god, the Lans all brainwashed into thinking that the tight smiles, and the tears are signs of love, when in reality their spouse is trying so hard to not hate them. Soakxldowkenenw fuxking Su She

angstymdzsthoughts The spouses are all trapped. Oh wait

angstymdzsthoughts The "soulmate" thing only happens once or twice in a generation and Madam Lan had been the most recent before WWX so the spouse around who tries to warn him away is an old woman who has been married and trapped in the CR for life 55 years That makes it so much worse

time-flies-by Oh my god, imagine wwx accidentally runs into the the wing room, and is absolutely horrified to find all the wings there, so he goes to lwj and is all like “Lan Zhan? What’s this?” And LWJ just goes “don’t worry Wei ying, I’ll make sure that never happens to you.” And what he means is “I’ll make sure your grounding isn’t as painful as theirs.” And wwx trusts LWJ 100%, but then their own grounding happens.

angstymdzsthoughts OOF Oh my god just rip my heart out

angstymdzsthoughts All I can picture is WWX crying and calling LWJ a liar before he's silenced Most disturbing part is how gentle and loving LWJ is being while hes Removing His Husbands Limbs Soft little praises and telling WWX that they will be happy together now

angstymdzsthoughts Ohhh WWX is totally gonna blame himself if he saw the wings and didn't immediately run Gets to Yunmeng like 'how could I be so stupid to believe him'

time-flies-by Ooh especially if the spouses before him tried warning him too.

angstymdzsthoughts Yes Exactly

time-flies-by WWX: The signs were all there. . . There was a red flag everywhere!

angstymdzsthoughts The way WWX sees it is like that 'face eating leopard party' meme Everyone else is just plain horrified

time-flies-by Oof 😂

angstymdzsthoughts LWJ is crying in the CR asking what he did wrong Yunmeng Jiang is ready to start a war in order to get WWX his wings back

time-flies-by Omg yesssss The Lans are all clueless and offended because they see NOTHING wrong with their traditions.

angstymdzsthoughts Someone tries to put it in perspective for them. "How would you react if your spouse cut off your hands?" But the Lans dont get it and just dig their hole deeper. "Thats ridiculous! You Need hands! Wings are in no way a necessity."

time-flies-by Aish 😓

time-flies-by Yeah no, the Jiangs are definitely cutting all ties with the Lan after that.

angstymdzsthoughts The Lans argue that wings do nothing but make someone fickle and reckless and arrogant. They Need to be earth bound so they can learn stability and humbleness ... Oh my god... Horrible thought

time-flies-by Do tell

angstymdzsthoughts Some children of grounded spouses end up with wings too But they get them cut off when they are younger Should it be LXC or LWJ who use to have wings?

angstymdzsthoughts Spend their entire adolescence being ashamed of the wings and eagerly waiting for the day they can be removed

time-flies-by Oooh maybe LXC?

angstymdzsthoughts The most recent wings added are a pair of small white ones maybe half the size of WWXs and the sight of them make him run out because he may be sick

time-flies-by Oh god, what if there’s like, a whole room just full of children’s wings.

Angstymdzsthoughts Of course the Lans would keep them Ohhh WWX hears people talking about the grounding ceremony that will follow the honeymoon and has no idea what their all talking about He asks and the Lans explain that it's a sacred ceremony between spouses that truly binds the new spouse to the Lan family WWX is like- oh wow that sounds really great! Like a big 'welcome to the family'!

time-flies-by Oh no that make it worse! WWX is super excited for the ceremony. He’s like hyping himself up nonstop.

angstymdzsthoughts Oh with the Lan members with wings- they normally have a form of the grounding ceremony when they get their courtesy name and become a Real Lan. Lose your wings and get a name Oh my gooood WWX and LWJ go to bed that night talking about how the bonding ceremony will be tomorrow morning and LWJ assures him that he knows WWX will be perfect

time-flies-by Oh god no, I’m just imagining a bunch of children scared but super willing to lose their wings, because they’d been taught that having them made them everything the clan was against

angstymdzsthoughts WWX, cuddling close: What if I mess up and make a fool of myself? No ones really told me what to do yet. LWJ, petting WWXs wings lovingly: Don't worry, I'll take care of everything Exactly

time-flies-by Oooh I just got chills again

angstymdzsthoughts Something about LWJ touching and admiring WWXs wings in this context... 😨

time-flies-by LWJ: once I get rid of these, he’ll be all mine.

angstymdzsthoughts Touching wings isn't a normal thing outside of family (given that touching in general isn't normal in Chinese culture) but WWX was always super ok with friends petting his wings. He totally offered to let LWJ touch his wings when they were teenagers after catching him admiring them

angstymdzsthoughts LWJ hadn't felt a wing since his mother died shortly after her Binding and WWXs are a really beautiful glossy black color that turns a dark, rich purple if the light hits them just right. Of course he wants to touch

time-flies-by 😥😥

angstymdzsthoughts LWJ, cautiously running one finger along the feathers: They are so big... WWX: Of course they are! My wings have to be big and strong to carry me while I fly! LWJ immediately snatching his hand back, suddenly cold at the remainder that WWX can and will fly away far, far away from him

time-flies-by LWJ is really undermining the love WWX has for him by being that concerned that he’ll leave him.

angstymdzsthoughts He got brainwashed by his clan and he saw his mothers constant attempts to escape. Everyone around him said that the only reason she was trying to leave was because of her wings. If his own mother would leave him because of wings, what would stop WWX?

angstymdzsthoughts Madam Lan got way too close to actually escaping and QHJ was pressured into finally doing the ceremony. Madam Lan didn't last long after that

time-flies-by sent a post Source (****)

angstymdzsthoughts Hahaha

angstymdzsthoughts You know what would be worse? Baby A-Yuan with wings

time-flies-by Oh noooooo

angstymdzsthoughts Like au where LWJ didn't do the binding and unbrainwashed himself Then A-Yuan is born with wings and he grows up being told he won’t be a Real Lan if he keeps them So his parents have no plans of removing them but as his naming ceremony gets closer Yuan says he Wants to get rid of them WWX is immediately packing a bag and getting him and his son the hell out of there. LWJ is right behind him with another bag

time-flies-by Oof yes I like that

time-flies-by But like what if, the day before they leave or something, A-yuan runs to the elders and tells them about what his parents plan to do, and he’s so desperate to get rid of his wings that he asks them to just do the ceremony there and then

angstymdzsthoughts AAAAAAAAAA

time-flies-by When LWJ and WWX wake, they’re so stressed cause they can’t find A-yuan, but a few minutes later he comes in all proud and wingless

angstymdzsthoughts I mean since its Maleficent au wings are apparently magic and can be put right back on but Still Horrible WWX cries LWJ is gonna fight to get his sons wings back and then get his family the hell out of there Oh my god..... LWJ walking through a room full of tiny, near identical wings looking for the little pair that he would recognize anywhere

angstymdzsthoughts Let's a few tears out when he finds them. Remembers helping WWX clean and groom them and watching while WWX taught their son to balance and fly using those wings Hates himself for not seeing what his clan was doing to LSZ and not getting them away from all of it sooner

time-flies-by Codnekaoenen perfect

time-flies-by Heartbreaking, but perfect

angstymdzsthoughts Also, if things had gone according to plan and they left before LSZ did the Binding Yuan, struggling and crying: But I won’t be a Real Lan! WWX, throwing Yuan over his shoulder to carry him mid tantrum: Then you're gonna be a Wei. Lan Zhan, would you please carry this bag? LWJ, taking the bag: Mn. Wei Yuan sounds nice.

angstymdzsthoughts Then they go to Yunmeng so LSZ can grow up in a healthier environment

time-flies-by Oh I like your version better.

angstymdzsthoughts You brought the pain, I brought a bandaid

time-flies-by Haha yes yes, thank you

angstymdzsthoughts Oof tho. LWJ finds the wings and brings them home where WWX is guarding Yuan while he sleeps. They Return the wings while Yuan sleeps and return to making plans to go to Yunmeng once Yuan wakes When he wakes up and has his wings back he bursts into tears.

angstymdzsthoughts Could be because he really missed his wings and is glad to have them back or because this means he's gonna have to go through the grounding AGAIN and it really hurt the first time and he doesn't want to go through it again. Maybe both

time-flies-by If both, then WWX and LWJ will do their best to reassure him that he won’t have to go through the grounding ever again.

angstymdzsthoughts Aww little Yuan crying so hard he can hardly breath and bringing his wings around himself so he can pet and groom them because he needs to make sure this is real and their back

angstymdzsthoughts Oof. Imagine LXC seeing this and wishing he could have kept his wings. Goes to visit his wings and knows that they are too small to fit his body now that hes an adult so he's lost his chance

time-flies-by *sigh* we really should give LXC a break.

angstymdzsthoughts Never Ok how about he gets his wings back and even tho there too small because they never got the chance to grow with him and he'll never be able to fly hes so unbelievably happy WWX and Yuan teach him how to groom his wings correctly because the only person who ever did that was his mother and he cant quite remember how to do it

time-flies-by *sniff* family bonding time

angstymdzsthoughts He starts an arrangement with Yunmeng Jiang so he can send any winged Lans to them for half the year so they can learn that having wings Isnt the worse thing in the world

time-flies-by Oooh yes yes That’s good.

[catxsnow]

CIRCUS FREAK D.G.

Request: okay so i was listening to rewrite the stars and got the idea where the reader is a socialite from a very wealthy family, and she fell for dick grayson but her family doesn't approve because he's not a real wayne/rich. so can i request that? thank you once again!!🥺❤️

Warning: swears, having really shitty parents

A/N: That gif just melts my heart every time I see it. 

Word Count: 2k

Dick Grayson was an unexpected surprise in your life.

Your parents were the kind of people that expected you to marry a literal prince. They wanted you to continue the family legacy of money, power, and popularity. Generations of marrying important figures to keep the family name from being tainted. Your family took pride in their place in the world.

When they moved to Gotham, there was only one family that was going to be good enough for your parents: The Wayne's. Bruce Wayne was the richest person in the city - maybe even the entirety of the country. When you parents wiggled their way into his life and to his famous gala's, you were to be dragged along as well.

Your parents pointed out dozens of rich men, those who owned big businesses or were part of world affairs. They wanted you to talk to them, date them, and eventually marry one of them. It wasn't those snobby men that you were intrigued by. It was the man across the room with a genuine smile.

At the time you weren't aware that this was Bruce's oldest adopted son. He didn't seem like the rest. Dick wasn't trying to prove his worth by being there, in fact it almost seemed like he didn't want to be there at all. Behind his smile, you could see that he had places he'd rather be - but his kindness to others never faltered.

Out of all the people in that room, he was the only one that you wanted to talk to.

Dick felt your eyes on him. He looked up from the person he was having a conversation with and gazed at you from across the room. A smile lit up his face at the sight of how stunning you looked. He no longer cared about the man he was chatting with - he wanted to go talk to you instead.

That was how you met the love of your life. The second that he asked you to dance, you knew that you never wanted to let him go. You danced your heart away that night, twirling and spinning until your legs were ready to give out on you. Being with Dick... it was like floating in the stars.

You met with him again and again after that night. Every meet up seemed to last shorter than the previous, you never seemed to get enough time with him. There weren't enough hours in the day for you to be with Dick as much as you wanted to. He had cut down on his over time at work, even patrol to be with you.

He was in love.

You weren't like the rest of the snobby rich, young adults that attended these gala's. Unlike so many of these families that just wanted to make money, you wanted to make the world a better place. Dick respected that about you. While you were both trying to change the world in different ways, it seemed to bring you closer together.

Bruce knew who you were. He was aware of your parents and their appearance in Gotham. Thinking like a business man, he assumed that you were only interested in Dick for the money in his name. Upon meeting you, he could clearly see that wasn't the case at all. You were completely head over heels for him.

The issue arose when Dick was meant to meet your parents for the first time. Every man that you had brought home to them wasn't good enough. They drove him away until you were left heartbroken. As the son of Bruce Wayne, you assumed that they would approve of him. Even so, Dick was brave enough to stick around through your parents wrath.

Dick was dressed in his best suit. You were looped around his arm in your best clothes as well. The two of you stood outside the doors of the fanciest restaurant in the city. Your parents were already inside and waiting upon the two of you. Dick leaned down to give you a quick peck on the lips.

"Stop worrying so much."

"Aren't I supposed to be telling you that?" You chuckled. Dick rolled his eyes and led you through the doors. Truth be told, he wasn't nervous. Throughout all his years, he had impressed every set of parents that he met. Yours couldn't be that different. "Just... don't think of me differently after today, okay?"

"I would never, my love," Dick assured. You switched from having your arm around his to intertwining your hands. The server led you towards the table your parents were sitting in. They looked to be in a good mood. Hopefully they would keep it up when you arrived with Dick.

Dick Grayson should have been nervous. After knowing you this past half a year, he didn't think that anyone related to you could be cruel. You were the kindest person that he had ever met, always worried about everyone around you before yourself. He assumed that it was your parents that raised you like that.

He was wrong, very wrong. Your parents seemed to be angered the second that you two sat down at the table. Dick was on his best behavior. He made sure to give the biggest smile, shook their hands, and referred to them with the utmost respect. It didn't seem to matter, the second they laid eyes on him they weren't impressed.

When you told your mother that you were bringing a Wayne to dinner, they assumed you meant a real Wayne - not an adopted one. Bruce was far too old for you, Damian far too young. Tim was the one that they were expecting, even if he was considerably younger than you as well. Even if he wasn't a real Wayne, he was the one to run WE.

Dick Grayson was nothing but a circus freak.

A boy who was born from poor parents and grew up in the circus. He was the exact opposite of what your parents wanted of you. Even with being adopted by Bruce, it wasn't enough for them. You were tired of pleasing your parents. Dick was the love of your life, you knew it in less than a year of being with him.

"You're lucky Bruce Wayne adopted you. I suppose living in a circus you had no where to go but up," Your mother spoke. She sipped her wine, acting as if what she had said was a compliment. Dick's eyes widened in shock but he remained quiet.

"You're not a real Wayne, though, right? Like Bruce's inheritance isn't going to go to you, it'll go to his youngest, the blood son?" Your father pitched in. "(Y/N) are you sure you want this one? What about the other, the one running Bruce's company - at least he has something going for him."

"That's enough!" You raised your voice. Your parents were not-so-subtle about their dislike towards Dick. They shamed his upbringing, saying that he was lucky to be taken in by Bruce rather than continue his life in the circus. Though you knew their words hurt him, he stayed calm throughout the matter.

You on the other hand, couldn't hear anymore of it. "Who the fuck do you think you are to say those things? Huh? You're nothing but snobbish pricks who only want me to marry for money! I'm sick of it! I'm sick of seeing you on your high fucking horse thinking you're better than everyone!

"I'm ashamed to call you my parents. You don't care about Gotham or your own daughter! You only care about yourselves and money. Have fun being fucking miserable, I'm not putting up with your shit any longer. Never again."

The restaurant had gone silent. All eye were on your table, listening in to the scene that you were causing. Your parents sat there in shock. you had never showed any signs of aggression like that before. Not once in your life had you went against them so fiercely and so publicly. Unfortunately, they blamed this attitude on Dick.

Before they could say anything about your outburst, you grabbed Dick's hand and nearly dragged him out of the restaurant. You were beyond angry. So full of rage, humiliation, even guilt. You so desperately wanted this dinner to go well and it had gone anything but. Dick finally stopped you from racing back towards his car.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as he looked down to you. Without hesitating, he pulled you into a much needed hug. You sobbed into his chest, your heart aching for the words that your parents said to him. He didn't deserve that, any of it. Dick was too polite to stand up against strangers like that - especially when they were your parents.

"I'm sorry," You whispered. Dick kissed the top of your head before wiping away your tears. When you asked him not to judge you for your parents, he never thought you would mean to this extreme. Still, he kept with his promise. You weren't your parents, you were nothing like them.

"Don't be," Dick assured. He had gone through far worse things than some angry parents. He got broken, battered, and bruised every week - a few hurtful words shouldn't have fazed him. But seeing you so upset because you cared this deeply about him? That broke his heart far more than what your parents said about him.

"My parents are horrible people. They've always only cared about keeping the family name as an important figure. I've pretty much would be stuck in an arranged marriage if they got what they wanted," You squeezed your eyes shut, remembering the hurt looks on Dick's face as they spoke poorly about him.

Dick didn't know what to say. To be honest, he was still in shock over the events that had just happened between you and your parents. Firstly with how horrible they were, and secondly, how quick you were to stand up for him. You had only known him for six months and you were willing to throw away your relationship with you parents for him.

Realizing just how committed you were to this relationship sparked something in him. He knew that he loved you, and even if it was a relatively short time together with you, he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. Dick was completely and utterly in love with you.

"You're not a freak, Dick," you continued as he didn't speak. Without him saying what was on his mind you were left to believe that he was thinking the worst. He no longer wanted to be with, he didn't love you anymore. It broke you to think like that, you would do anything to change it. "You're not a Wayne, you're a Grayson. A Flying Grayson, that's the man that I love."

"I love you," Dick finally spoke his mind. Relief flooded you; that was what you wanted to hear. "You aren't your parents, I see that more than ever now. Just like how I'm not Bruce. We're meant to be our own people, to live and grow and discover who we really are. Right now, I know that I'm meant to grow with you."

"You make me a better person every day, Dick Grayson," You smiled up at him. Dick pulled you closer by your hips and lowered his lips to yours. He didn't care about the random people walking by you or the sound of car horns in the background, you were all that mattered.

It didn't matter if you parents didn't approve of him. He had your heart, and you hoped that he never let it go.

[bellygunnr]

Blown Lightbulb

A commission piece for @poisonheadcrabsalesman featuring Thomas Lasky/Sarah Palmer. 

---

The house is cold. It hasn’t changed at all since you’ve last been here, some twenty odd years ago. You hadn’t been a kid then-- just a pilot, home on leave despite not really wanting to be. It had been tense then. It was the same now, even if your mother wasn’t even here, and you were laying bare the contents of your past to the two people you loved the most and considered the most important in your life. You hesitate to look at them, not quite fearful of what they’re thinking but definitely reluctant, like any of this is your fault and something to be ashamed of.

You know no one can really blame you for wanting some modicum of closure, but you’ve always been conscious of starting losing battles. Your mother isn’t even here, for one. A toneless holo-message is all she’s left you, detailing that an emergency at work brought her in and she’ll be back sometime in the evening. Maybe you and your colleagues could meet her at this location, even, and upon further investigation, that location is a startling high-profile restaurant of considerable Martian renown.

So much for flying close to the surface. You’d be in the air for all to see, just for a chance to reconcile with what little remains of your family. But that wasn’t for several hours yet, so you content yourself with poking around the giant empty house and listening to Sarah and Roland banter between each other.

“No offense, but this feels kind of like a museum exhibit,” Sarah says. “It’s not even dusty. I’d prefer it if it was.”

“You’d prefer it? There are stock photos of kids up here-- unless the Lasky family is way bigger than records suggest,” Roland answers.

You look at the picture frames Roland is pointing out. Amid the pictures of your brother Cadmon, there are photos of a foreign family, conspicuously only featuring a father figure. You run your fingers through your hair, nostrils flaring with a barely-restrained sigh.

“We didn’t take many family pictures,” you say, as if that explains anything. “I’m going to check out the upstairs.”

You tug on the back of your head, pulling at the recently shaved strands in a fit of anxiety. You don’t want to go upstairs. You’re afraid of what you’ll find there. Cadmon’s room was practically a shrine twenty years ago. The stairs don’t even creak as you step up them and you’re not sure why you expect them to. They look and feel and sound like wood, but you know them to be special composites that just didn’t degrade.

Your grip lingers on the railing as you take the final step. The door you know that leads to your mother’s room is closed. The keypad lock to it is bright red. You wonder if the keycode has changed at all, but testing it probably isn’t worth the risk. Across from her room is Cadmon’s, but that door is also, as you expected, closed.

And the one you recognize as your own is ajar. You let your hand find Sarah’s, squeezing it so tightly that she squeezes back, thumb rolling over your knuckles in a decidingly tender way.

“You know you don’t have to do this, Tom,” she says gently.

“But I want to,” you say. “I know I don’t need to.”

“Well, that’s something.”

It is. You offer her a braver smile than you feel and let her follow you to your room. There are more picture frames up here, covering the walls in even intervals. You can only ignore them because you know Roland is looking at them. You nudge open the door with your foot and, again, hesitate at the threshold.

Was everything in this house going to be difficult?

You shut your eyes and take in a shuddering breath. You can feel Sarah at your back, her presence radiating warmth. If you wobble, you feel her sturdy body against yours, so you let yourself lean into the partial embrace of her arms. She squeezes your shoulders, just as ice trickles down your spine.

Roland’s presence bleeds into your mind like condensation forming on the outside of a glass. It’s not enough for his thoughts or feelings to be tangible, but it’s so distinctly him that you smile and relax, easing the tension in your balled-up fists and opening your eyes. The room ahead is dark, but all you need to do is step inside for the lights to wake up and--

It’s not exactly the same as you left it, but it’s close. Your eyes roam the room, picking out all the various effects of teenaged you. There are posters on the wall, though some of the pixels have gone dark in their paper-thin construction, and models on the shelves, thick with dust. Your bed is perfectly made, the pillows hidden beneath a dark red blanket. Inevitably, your eyes roam over to a box bolted seamlessly into the wall, just above your nightstand. 

“Ah,” you breathe, staring at the box. “I see.”

“Is that…?” Sarah starts, but trails off, uncertain.

You can feel Roland’s curiosity curling up in the back of your mind. If you strain, you can even see his glittery-gold essence creeping out toward the box, but that gives you a migraine the harder you try.

You open your mouth to try and explain what it is, despite what it is being obvious. It’s a physical control panel for a domestic-grade Dumb AI. His name is still plainly depicted in the form of colorful stickers-- Admiral Hart. He hadn’t been active last time, but he hadn’t been gone either, so at least the sick hope flickering in your belly isn’t fully misplaced.

Still, is it worth trying to activate him?

“Roland,” you say, feeling quite outside yourself. “You can investigate it, if you want. Um, if he’s in there, could you…?”

“Of course, Captain,” Roland says.

Roland’s projection hovers in mid-air, thrown there by the custom commpad he was currently residing in. He smiles brilliantly at you and Sarah before bringing up what must be the digital counterpart of the control panel, his gestures as grandiose as ever, his expression just visible behind the transparent boxes. You hate it, but you distract yourself by leaning into Sarah’s space and kissing the bottom of her chin, staying there until Roland pipes up again.

“He’s in there, Captain. Says here he hasn’t been activated since… 2549. Very long service life, this one.”

Oh, that wasn’t too bad. Still, nearly ten years, completely shut down.

“...I don’t know if I’m ready to see him yet,” you say in one long rush of breath, the realization making you feel ill. “I do miss him, though.”

“There are also several other AI matrices in here,” Roland adds. “Why so many, if I may ask?”

“They were my teachers, when I was doing homeschooling. I’m surprised they’re still here.”

Dumb AI were very limited in their fixed personalities, but you swear they’re more sentient than they let on. One didn’t befriend several all at once and not experience some inexplicable variances, but dwelling on it was starting to make you feel hot behind the eyes. You shake your head, exasperated.

“Sorry, this is-- a lot more than I thought it’d be.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Sarah says lightly. “Want to go back downstairs?”

“Mind if I hang out in your house’s network for a little while?” Roland asks. “I won’t touch anything.”

“Go for it,” you say with a smile.

Roland winks and smiles before gathering up the tendrils of himself, more visible now that he was letting his essence ooze out between commpad, neural interfaces, and nearby network ports. Smart AI were remarkably fluid, or even gaseous, automatically filling in the void spaces around them, not because they wanted to be big as possible-- they were just that big. Still, you rub the back of your neck the same time as Sarah does, acutely conscious of the absence.

“Downstairs, then,” Sarah says. “Think there’s anything in the fridge?”

“I have no idea. Are you hungry?”

“I haven’t eaten since yesterday. To keep the motion sickness down, you know.”

You hum in acknowledgement. Her moving ahead of you prevents you from lingering too long upstairs, anxious as you are to keep up with her long strides. You have no idea where either of you are going to get clothes nice enough to go to a restaurant. Neither of you are dressed for it, let alone packed. Roland had suggested dressing as casually as possible to take the edge off, and well, maybe that was going to backfire. 

“I can feel you thinking too hard,” Sarah says.

She’s in your space the second you leave the stairs. But it’s gentle and unintrusive despite her taking up your whole line of sight. She’s teasing you, even as her brow is bent in concern.

“What am I thinking too hard about?” you ask.

“Hmmm. Something about your mom, like that stupid message she left us. Seriously, talk about a neutral location.” 

You laugh before you can stop yourself. 

“Got it in one,” you say. “I don’t know what she’s thinking.”

“Guess poor mother Lasky is going to have to come home after all,” Sarah says. “Isn’t that sad?”

She bumps your hip with the back of her fist, a playful nudge that, surprisingly, doesn’t send you stumbling. You punch her shoulder in return, silently following her into the next room, where the kitchen is. You watch Sarah go for the fridge and open it, head disappearing inside to scope out the contents. She retreats a moment later to throw something green and limp into your arms.

You catch it more out of surprise than anything, but you feel nauseous just holding it.

“What the hell is this?”

“Nutritional smoothie paste!” Sarah says, like she’s struck gold. “Used to eat this shit when I was a baby Spartan. They put it in Mjolnir on long-haul ops.”

“And that’s…. Is it good?” You ask, instantly skeptical.

“Hell, no. But I’m too polite to eat the meal plan stuff she has in there. So, drink up.”

Well, you couldn’t fault her there. You set the plastic tube of paste down on the faux-granite countertop, deciding that you’d rather let Sarah just drink both of them. You can’t stifle a smile as she immediately scoops it up, tearing open both of them at once and drinking them down in a truly disgusting fashion. But she doesn’t spill a drop, so... 

“I see you’ve gotten better at that,” you say.

“Roland made me promise not to make a mess if I’m going to be carrying the commpad,” she admits, looking exasperated for all of a split-second. “So.”

She tosses the spent bags onto the countertop, despite the trash can being directly underhand. You shrug that off in favor of grabbing her by the collar of her tank top and pulling her down, kissing her flat on the mouth. Her answering hum is felt in your bones and you both relax into each other, your anxious tension sapped by her solid core. She curls an arm around your waist and holds you in place, like she’s been waiting to do that.

“Relax a little,” she murmurs. “We can worry about her when she gets here.”

Not you, we. You feel a little weak in the knees at the distinction and let yourself hang onto her arms, certain that you’re looking at her with a dopey smile.

“But we probably shouldn’t do this in the kitchen,” she adds.

Before you can pull away, Sarah effortlessly hauls you into her arms, supporting you by grabbing a fistful of your ass and waiting until you wrap your arms around her neck. She squeezes your rear a couple times before moving, gait so smooth that you don’t even feel it when she turns on her heel to dump you on the couch with a flourish. 

You sink into the couch cushions, but wrap your arms around hers so that you don’t disappear completely. Her face is so close to yours that you count each individual scar and freckles, including the faint lines of surgical augmentations that only show up in the right light. You snake your hand up to the back of her neck, mindful not to grab ahold of the enlarged neural implant.

“Anyone ever told you you’re handsome, Tom?” Sarah murmurs.

“Mmm, I can think of a few…”

Her laughter is felt on your skin as warm puffs. She kisses you, her lips rough with bitten and half-healed skin that you nip at, chasing them when she tries to pull away. The plasticine fabric squeaks as she carefully, carefully lowers her weight over yours and straddles you, her thighs big enough to keep you in place. 

“Let me know if I’m hurting you.”

“I will,” you promise.

You want to say that you know she won’t, but she always looks so earnest when she asks that this time, you don’t. Because she has before-- there’s a biological differential between the two of you that you never stop thinking about. You work your hand further up to pull her hair out of its ponytail, working your fingers into the coarse locks and kissing her more intently, eyes fluttering shut. I love you, you want to say. I trust you, which is just as hard.

Her hands roam across your shirt and pluck open several buttons so that she can follow the edge of your collarbone and the slope of your shoulders. Her warm, slightly sweaty palms are a sharp contrast to the cool air, and the shock of physical contact has goosebumps lifting on your arms. You lick at her lips and fist some of her hair, mumbling indistinctly as you pull her down closer.

There’s no smart quip or knowing look to make light of your neediness. She finally lets her weight drop onto your lap completely and the kiss moves on, her teeth and lips tracking across the edge of your jaw to just underneath your ear. Instead of letting your hands hover, you start to follow the hard curves of her body, groping at the bunching muscles and admiring the power coiled there. 

Then she snaps into rigid attention, face turned toward the front door, her lips drawn back in a snarl. You vaguely notice that she has a chipped tooth before you hear the door opening and Sarah is still poised over you and she’s kissing you again, hard, and you kind of moan into it--

“Well, then,” an all-too-familiar voice says. “Thomas, care to… introduce me?”

Finally, Sarah climbs off of you, but not before buttoning your shirt and kissing your forehead. Your brain already hurts from the mental whiplash of the situation.

“Um, mother,” you start. “This is Sarah Palmer. My partner.”

Your mother is shorter than you remember. Her hair, once a brownish-black, is in faded tones and grey at the roots. A scar that wasn’t there twenty years ago lurks just by her eye and she looks exhausted. Stress and worry lines make canyons of her face, ones that twist your heart to look at.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Sarah says stiffly.

She does not look amused. She doesn’t look much of anything except terribly stern and suspicious of the scene before her. You almost can’t blame her. Almost.

“You know, I was hoping you’d be here when we got here,” you say. “But it seems you’re still working.”

“Of course. Duty still calls, you know.”

You watch her as she shrugs off her jacket and hangs it up on the coat rack in the anteroom. Both nothing and everything has changed about her and it makes something in your throat tighten.

“Oh, I know that more than anybody,” you breathe. “Yeah.”

“I do appreciate you coming home, Tom,” Audrey says, not looking at you. “It means a lot. I thought I’d have to see you when the Infinity opened her doors to the public. That is still happening-- right?”

“Sure, it’s happening,” Sarah says. “Look, Tom, do you want me to…?”

You shake your head.

“Yes, but I won’t be back on Mars until then. Working nonstop has its benefits-- like a lot of vacation time.”

“That sounds like a dream, to be able to use it,” Audrey replies calmly. “I need to know if we’re having dinner tonight.”

You and Sarah share a look.

“I was thinking we could share a bottle of wine and shoot the shit instead,” Sarah says. “Or some scotch, if you have it.”

At that, Audrey looks amused.

“I never took you for a scotch man, Tom,” Audrey chuckles.

You don’t say anything as she leaves the room, no doubt seeking out the desired glasses and alcohol. The sun is going down outside, plunging the room in a deep red. This was going better than expected. You want to break open the window and run. You want to do anything but sit back down and draw out the table and sit in a semi-circle and “shoot the shit.” But you’re already sitting down and the bottle is open and you haven’t ate anything-- neither has Sarah, even, but with her augmentations drinking on an empty stomach is probably beneficial and--

“Good news, everybody! I took the liberty of ordering us some, what do you humans call it? Party food? You know, for all the drinking we’re about to do. You’re welcome!”

You choke on your own spit and your mother nearly drops the glass she’s pouring. Sarah, for her part, is taking the bottle and stealing a sip directly, if only to conceal a smug smile.

Roland is hovering inches above the faux-wooden table, drawn up to his full height with chest puffed out and expression gleeful. He flicks one hand out in a casual salute toward Audrey before trotting aside and sitting down, legs crossed.

“Cheers,” he says.

“Hi, Roland,” Sarah greets.

You had completely forgotten about Roland. Oops.

“Thomas, I do hate to ask,” Audrey says, peering down at Roland with a pinched expression, “but why is there an AI?”

“Oh, you know,” you say vaguely, waving a hand. “It’s classified.”

“I’m Captain Lasky’s boss,” Roland says, grinning. “So I’m allowed to be here, you see.”

“Are you my boss, Roland?” Sarah asks.

“No, ma’am.”

Audrey’s eyebrows shoot up. She takes a sip from her glass, shifting in her seat uncomfortably.

“Well, I’m Audrey Lasky,” she says finally. “Pleasure to meet you.”

The rest of the night goes painfully.

[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 25

AO3

Taglist: @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised@alastair-appreciation-month

Previous Chapter: Chapter 24

Next Chapter: Chapter 26

Uncle Jem had brought several of the Carstairs family’s old notebooks, and the past week they’d spend studying them to see if there was anything interesting. They’d rescued Grace, but no one had been able to find Tatiana since, nor did they know what they were up against exactly and if they could defeat it. Cordelia believed cortana could kill it, but walking in with no plan would just get them all killed.

Thomas felt like they were running out of time. He hadn’t told anyone yet, but he felt tired lately, much more than usual. For Alastair that was normal, he guessed, Alastair was always tired and therefore Thomas had no reason to complain. Still, it was odd and sudden. Then he’d gotten a bit of a headache, and right now he struggled to finish his lunch, which was already much smaller than what he usually ate. He’d eaten much less than he usually did the past days, truth to be told. He just didn’t have the same appetite. He was feeling a little chilly too, but guessed he should just put on a cardigan.

‘Are you alright, Tommy?’ his mother asked. ‘You’ve been eating so little lately.’

‘Just nervous, that’s all,’ Thomas said.

The thing was, Thomas didn’t usually eat less when he was nervous. If anything he ate more, he’d always been a stress eater. Instead he figured he was coming down with something. Someone else might just have said, ‘I think I’m getting sick, I’m going to rest a bit’, but after a childhood of frequent illness and worrying parents Thomas couldn’t get the words over his lips. He’d make sure to rest a bit more, he told himself. But he didn’t want to worry anymore, and he especially didn’t want his parents to start taking care of him like they used to when he was young.

Instead, he returned his attention to Alastair, who had long finished eating and gone outside to read. A ray of sunlight fell on his cheek, illuminating his warm golden brown skin. His eyes were fixated in a journal so old it looked like it might fall apart any moment. Not in Alastair’s careful hands though. He was holding the journal with meticulous care, so no damage would come to it. With his free hand, he pushed a lock of hair behind his ear, but it was not yet long enough to stay there so it fell back in front of his face. Back in school, Alastair would slick his hair back with hair gel, always perfectly in order, not a hair out of place. Thomas, who usually took a comb through his hair and left it at that, had wondered where he found the time. Now it was falling in soft wavy locks over his face. At school Thomas would never have guessed Alastair’s hair was wavy, but it was loose now and Thomas had grown to love gently running his fingers through it. He’d always loved Alastair’s dark hair, he thought. Alastair had shown him a picture from when he’d dyed it blonde, and although that looked alright, Thomas thought his dark hair was much more beautiful.

‘Anything interesting?’ Thomas asked, sitting down on the bench next to Alastair.

A gnome came up to his feet. Thomas and his mother had been feeding them to gain their trust, and not long since the gnomes had learnt that Thomas meant a chance for food. He guessed there were still plenty of cookies he didn’t feel like eating at the moment anyway, but he also wasn’t motivated to go into the kitchen and get anything. Thomas guessed resisting that adorable smile was good practice for when he got pets.

‘Nothing yet,’ Alastair said. ‘But I think I’m getting to the part that described that witch. It might give us some clues about what else Lucie can do.’

‘Have you discussed with Cordelia where you’ll live after the summer?’ Thomas asked.

Alastair had confided in him that even if his mother managed to get back the house and could go and live there, he was considering moving in with uncle Jem for the time being. His father’s house held too many bad memories, and Thomas could understand it would not be good for his recovery to live there again. Alastair had not yet made a decision, but Thomas thought it might be good for him.

‘She has not yet decided what she’ll do,’ Alastair said. ‘She is a bit young to live without her mother after all. Besides, with our mother pregnant it would be better to have someone with her. If she doesn’t get the house back, I presume she would stay with Risa and with me gone there might be enough space for Cordelia as well. But I’m almost nineteen, I figured it might be time to move out. Even if I’m moving in with another relative instead of getting my own place.’

‘That’s just practical, living on your own would be expensive. Besides, Jem won’t be another parent, will he? So you’ll still get to practice your adulting skills in a relatively safe environment. Does Jem live far away from your mother?’

‘Completely different part of London, but still in the city,’ Alastair said. ‘Easy to travel to university from there. It’s a big house, so I’ll really have my own space and get to take care of myself, with Jem still there in case I can’t. I’ve lived there until I was about six. When I was still happy, there are no bad memories tied up to that place. I thought maybe I could be happy again there.’

‘Where does Jem live exactly?’ Thomas asked.

Alastair gently put the notebook away, closing it carefully and putting it down in his lap. He took his phone out of the pocket of his jeans, showing him a screen of google maps with a marker where Jem lived.

‘Oh, that’s not far from where my parents live,’ Thomas said. ‘Only a few stops with the metro. We live close to the station.’

‘I didn’t realize. Well, that’s convenient. Makes it easy to have sleep overs or go out together if we don’t live too far away.’

‘Precisely,’ Thomas said. ‘Would you like to go for a walk when you’re finished here? A short one, I am a little tired. But I’d like some fresh air.’

Alastair carefully bound up his notebook and put it on the table inside with the others, before coming with him.

‘It’s safer to bring Lucie,’ Alastair said. ‘In case we get trapped in between again.’

Alastair had a point, although Thomas would like some time alone with him. He was so busy at work all the time, ever since Jem had arrived he was preoccupied with the journals. Thomas missed their walks.

‘Alright, we’ll walk to uncle Will and aunt Tessa and ask her and Cordelia to come. I’m curious if uncle Gabriel and aunt Cecily are coming this way too. Jem said they were struggling to find a babysitter.’

‘Right, for little Alexander,’ Alastair said.

‘And Christopher,’ Thomas added. ‘My other cousin. He’s almost seven now.’

‘What’s he like?’ Alastair asked.

‘Different from Alexander, that’s for sure,’ Thomas said. ‘Alexander is a menace. Sweet, but fierce and hyperactive and if you don’t watch him for two seconds he’s swinging from the curtains somewhere. Christopher… he’s not as wild. He’s curious and is obsessed with science. He likes to do simple experiments, and we sometimes have to keep him from setting things on fire. I’m not sure he realizes “Don’t try this at home” applies to him as well. Fortunately, putting on a science show on tv usually keeps him from blowing anything up. Usually, my sisters and I babysit them when necessary, but he also adores uncle Henry, who is an inventor.’

It occurred to Thomas that Henry was Charles’ father. Sometimes children did not resemble their parents, he guessed. It had been a bit of a shock for everyone to learn that Charles had been Alastair’s former lover. Even if not everyone knew how awful he’d been to Alastair, they all had pieced together how much older Charles was. His father most of all had been horrified, since he’d known Charles since he was a baby. Thomas suspected he’d go confront Charles himself if Alastair hadn’t asked him not to. He knew Alastair was still ashamed of his past relationship and was still trying to make sense of it all. Thomas was glad he’d found trust in him and his parents, even if Thomas suspected Alastair still kept the worst of it to himself. Who could blame him? He wasn’t sure if Alastair finally believed his parents cared about him now, but at least he seemed to trust them which was a big step for Alastair. His mother had told him about her past and how she’d gotten her scar in an attempt to let him know he could talk about it and she understood.

‘As a child I had a phase where I liked science too,’ Alastair said. ‘I think I often had phases like that with different interests. When Cordelia and I were very young, we both loved architecture and played with all sorts of building toys and legos together. I also really liked math for a while. Then the animals from the forests in Devon. I lived there for a while in a small village. I think that’s when I grew a bit obsessed with hedgehogs.’

‘Christopher has been obsessed with science for some time now,’ Thomas said. ‘But we’ll see how it goes and what he’ll like in the future. He’s being assessed for autism and ADHD. He’s a sweet kid, but he struggles socially. Not a lot of friends unfortunately. I honestly think he prefers my company over his peers.’

‘I know what that’s like,’ Alastair said. ‘To be the child with the weird interests and never fit in with other children.’

‘You lived in Devon for a while. What was it like there?’

‘The scenery was amazing. The forests there are beautiful. The people… not so much, I prefer London.’

‘I lived in the countryside for a couple of years too when I was little, for my health. I think where I lived the people were nicer, more involved than in the city.’

Alastair made a face. ‘Not when you’re foreign and your mother wears a roosari. The people in Devon are mostly white. I don’t think Father really considered that when he moved us there, it was mostly about him. They might be kind if you’re part of their group, but they’re hostile to outsiders. Fortunately, we moved back after a couple of years.’

‘Ah, of course,’ Thomas said. ‘I’m sorry.’ He felt stupid for not considering that earlier.

‘Well, people are racist everywhere. But at least in London there are more people of color and people are at least used to the idea that not everyone’s white.’ My mother still gets dirty stares and comments for her roosari, but she’s not the only one who covers her hair. So while in Devon, I much preferred to spend my time in the woods looking for hedgehogs than with other people. I guess I still do.’

Thomas felt a bit numb in his head, shivering even if it wasn’t cold at all. Perhaps going for a walk wasn’t the best idea, but he wanted to spend some time outside just the same. He should have brought something warm to wear, was all. He wasn’t really sick, it was just not as warm as he’d expected. But Alastair wasn’t shivering at all, he seemed to enjoy the sun on his skin. Thomas did too but it didn’t bring him any warmth.

‘You need to go back for a cardigan?’ Alastair asked. ‘There are goosebumps all over your arms.’

‘Oh. No, I’ll be fine.’

Thomas felt faint in the head and by the time they made it to the Herondale’s house, his vision became a little blurry and he collapsed against the door. He was awfully nauseous yet didn’t feel like he was going to throw up. Alastair noticed his sudden movement and his reflexes were quick. He tried to catch him.

‘Why are you so goddamn heavy, Tom,’ he groaned, trying and failing to stop both of them from crashing into the door.

Leaning against Alastair and the door, Thomas pushed himself upright again, blinking a couple of times until he felt he could stand on his own feet again. Alastair’s soft fingers went from his cheek to his forehead, and Thomas immediately recognized what he was doing. It was the same thing his parents and sisters had done his entire childhood. If they didn’t have a thermometer at hand, they’d feel his forehead, his neck, and determine if he was allowed to go anywhere. Alastair was going to determine he was sick and then all that was left was for everyone to tuck him into bed and start taking care of him. Thomas had hoped to avoid that.

‘You’re burning up,’ Alastair said. ‘You should not be going outside, much less for a walk. Come, we’re here anyway, I’m sure you could use the couch.’

Alastair led him inside, one arm around his waist and the other in his hand, and packed him in blankets on the couch, fetching a thermometer and some paracetamol.

‘Alastair,’ Thomas said, trying to piece together words through the headache and light headedness.

‘Just let me get this,’ Alastair said, pushing the thermometer into Thomas’ ear.

‘Alastair,’ Thomas repeated.

’38,6,’ Alastair said. ‘Tom, you have a serious fever. Why didn’t you say anything? I’ll make you some tea, just relax.’

‘Alastair!’ Thomas yelled, startling the boy.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Please don’t. I can make my own tea, I can take my own temperature,’ Thomas said, trying to calm his breath. ‘I hate it when people take care of me. I told you about my sickness as a child. I don’t want things to be like that again, I don’t want to be taken care of. So please, don’t. Just let me do it.’

Alastair sat down next to him. ‘You were about to walk into the woods with a fever. I’ve seen how stubborn you are.’

‘Yes. I am stubborn. I didn’t realize it would be so bad. But please, let me make these mistakes by myself. I don’t want to be treated like a sick child again.’ Thomas paused, blinking away the tears in his eyes. He didn’t realize this would make him so emotional. ‘I always loved that about you, how you believed I could take anything. How you didn’t treat me as if I was fragile because I was small and used to get sick.’

Alastair sighed. ‘I was an ass to you, Tom. It had nothing to do with respect, or thinking you’re strong.’

‘I know, and it did hurt sometimes. But I loved that you believed I could take it. I knew you didn’t mean any of the things you said, and with me, it was always a bit more light hearted, teasing perhaps.

But you never forced me to go to bed and rest when I did not want it. Matthew grew up around me being sick all the time, and I think he learnt from a young age that I was fragile and to be taken care of. James too. But I never wanted that. I’ll rest, I promise. But I’ll make my own tea, alright?’

‘I’m sorry, Tom. You can make your own tea. Make some for me as well?’

Alastair settled onto the couch while Thomas went into the kitchen to put on the kettle, still wrapped in a blanket. He was too cold to go without it. While waiting for the kettle to boil, Thomas realized Alastair did have a point, he could barely stand upright. Still, he was determined to at least do this. If he wanted anything later, he could always ask Alastair. He picked out a selection of tea bags for Alastair and put in a herbal teabag for his own. Thomas didn’t believe herbal tea cured sickness, but it was worth a shot.

He settled back on the couch, wrapped the blankets back around himself and took two paracetamol, hoping that would at least lower the fever.

‘I really can’t believe you think of my being rude to you as something positive,’ Alastair said. ‘I made fun of your height all the time.’

Thomas shrugged from underneath the blanket. ‘I never minded when you called me pipsqueak or wee little Thomas, or, I don’t know, you had plenty to say.’

Alastair raised an eyebrow. ‘You certainly took your revenge.’

Thomas tried to find a comfortable position on the couch, blankets around him. Alastair did have a point with the paracetamol, and Thomas took two. Hopefully they’d lower his fever.

‘Perhaps I’ll start calling you pipsqueak,’ Thomas said. ‘The name suits you much better now.’

Alastair made an undignified sound. ‘I’m not that short.’

‘You’re plenty shorter than me,’ Thomas said. ‘I always kind of liked it, pipsqueak. It sounded sweet even if you meant it to be hurtful. Sometimes I feel like you never really did a good job at being mean anyway.’

‘I never wanted to hurt anyone,’ Alastair said, ‘and I did have a bit of a weak spot for you then. I can be even worse than what you’ve seen, but I save that for bigots.’

Thomas put his hand on Alastair’s cheek. ‘I always thought you were holding back on being mean, even if you could still be quite vicious. But pipsqueak is mine now.’

Alastair looked mortified. ‘I guess I can’t stop you, can I?’

Thomas lay down on the couch, head on a pillow. Why were all these blankets so small? His feet were still cold and he’d have to find a solution for that. Really, blankets should be made for tall people. Nobody short would complain about having a bit of leftover blanket.

‘It’s concerning, that you’re getting sick after all these years,’ Alastair said softly.

‘It’s nothing,’ Thomas said. ‘Everyone gets a fever every once in a while.’

‘I haven’t had a fever in years. Colds, at times, but rarely a fever,’ Alastair said.

‘You don’t get the flu?’ Thomas asked.

‘Not that I remember,’ Alastair said. ‘But I figured that’s just the age, as a child I would get the occasional fever like all children do, and I imagine I’ll get them again when I’m older.’

Thomas had gotten the flu a couple of time over the past years. Never anything serious or with abnormal frequency, but it had sent the entire family into a panic whenever it happened.

‘Please don’t tell my parents,’ Thomas said. ‘That I’m sick, I mean.’

‘How did you plan to keep it from them?’ Alastair asked.

‘Well, I was hoping I’d be better by the next morning,’ Thomas said. ‘I could sleep over here and then when I’m better pretend nothing happened.’

Alastair was skeptical. ‘I really don’t think you’ll feel better that soon, even if it is a normal flu.’

Lucie and Cordelia entered the room through the garden door, Cordelia turning her sword back into the familiar necklace. ‘Those are a lot of blankets,’ Lucie pointed out. She was right, and Thomas moved them around a bit so at least the biggest blanket would cover his feet, reaching up to his waist.

‘We wanted to revisit the ruins,’ Cordelia said. ‘See if there’s anything else that can give us information on Tatiana or the thief of souls. I was wondering if you would be coming.’

‘Thomas is sick,’ Alastair said.

‘Don’t stay behind on my behalf,’ Thomas said.

Alastair frowned. ‘You sure? I would gladly stay here with you.’

‘I think I’m going to get some sleep anyway,’ Thomas said. ‘Please don’t trouble yourself on my behalf. Go, I’ll still be here when you get back.’

‘Get well soon,’ Lucie said, putting her arms around him briefly. ‘You know how the tv works in case you want to watch a movie.’

‘I’ll be alright, Lu. Good luck with your mission.’

Thomas wanted to believe he had just caught the flu. Bad luck, nothing more. But perhaps that wasn’t the case. Perhaps he wouldn’t get better. Perhaps this meant they were running out of time.

[literaryfic]

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: 빈센조 | Vincenzo (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong/Hong Cha Young Characters: Hong Cha Young, Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, vincenzo leaves, set five years after he left sk, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, vincenzo and cha-young are exes, they were in a relationship before, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Jealousy, Exes, Getting Back Together, Not Canon Compliant, i wrote this before ep 20

Summary: Sipping on his third — or fourth, he’d stopped counting a while back  — whiskey of the night, Vincenzo fantasised about snapping the neck Cha-young’s fingers were delicately wrapped around. 

To Vincenzo, regret was like an old friend. He’d become accustomed to its familiar weight over the years, learnt its intricate shapes and colours. More than that, he’d learned to welcome the intimate ways in which regret accompanied his every step. 

The blood on his hands, his mother, her… Yes, it seemed regret was the recurring theme of his life. Alas, in spite of all the years he’d spent acquainted with it, he could not silence the wails of anguish of his heart. 

“Mmh.” A simple sound had sufficed to sink his soul to slumber.*

He’d always known this was a possibility. He’d thought about it endlessly, convincing himself that he wouldn’t care, that being in her life was enough. But Vincenzo was a greedy man, and he’d never desired anything more than he desired her.

Her. Cha-young. His Tesoro. 

Rarely did Vincenzo say or even think of her name when his mind wandered back to her. He treated it like a jewel, a precious gem meant to be tucked away in the corner of his soul, only to be let out under extraordinary circumstances. 

Her name on his lips would not be said in vain, for he was a pious man and her, a Goddess. He’d converted to her cult the moment she’d kissed him, her lips initiating him to her worship. 

And so, he prayed to her. When he’d reached the edge of the cliff, the troubled waters calling out to him, whispering in his ear that drowning would put out the fire that consumed his being, he prayed. 

He’d go to a small Catholic church in Milan, high ceilings and stained-glass windows glimmering in the evening sun, and he’d sit in the last row, his hands clapped together. He’d recite his prayers, confess his sins and plead. I love you. Forgive me. Wait for me.

The Goddess, however, was a capricious being, and it seemed she had not heard his pleas. Or maybe she had, but had deemed him unworthy. 

Vincenzo had wondered if she had found someone else, if she had been happy without him. Wasn’t human nature so contradictory? He had been sure that leaving her was the most selfless act of love he’d be capable of, yet that ‘Mmh’ had set his soul on fire. 

He had promised himself that if it were to happen — if Cha-young had forgotten about him, if leaving really had been the gift he’d first thought it was — , he would be content with just seeing her again. Even if all he’d get was a furtive look, that alone would be enough to satisfy the thirst he’d been dying of for the past five years. What a naïve thought. He knew the moment he’d seen her again, that night on the beach. He needed her. 

Now, watching her slow dance in someone else’s arms, Vincenzo thought about torture. He’d inflicted it on many of his enemies before and knew the myriad of ways in which the human body contorted itself when in agony. 

Vincenzo reaches for the gold lighter in his pocket, the reassuring clicking sound helping him organise his thoughts. 

He would start by pulling out his teeth one by one. Then, he’d move on to his fingers. It’d make a mess, but he wouldn’t die right away. Vincenzo would be able to enjoy the fun for quite a while, actually. Would the man scream until his vocal cords bled? Would he convulse, his body distorted by tremors, eyes rolling back?

Sadly, the only one getting tortured is him; the only cries of pain, his heart’s. 

Sipping on his third — or fourth, he’d stopped counting a while back  — whiskey of the night, Vincenzo fantasised about snapping the neck Cha-young’s fingers were delicately wrapped around. 

 Like moths to a flame, Vincenzo’s eyes were inevitably drawn to the pearly white of her thigh, revealed by the split of her long, form-fitting dress. She looked otherworldly tonight, her hips swaying to the slow beat of the love song playing in the background. Here she was, with her straight, shiny hair reflecting the dim lights of the ballroom, her red lips complimenting her flushed cheeks  — a fallen angel gracing them with her presence. 

The man holding her in his arms was in his late thirties, and while he was the same height as Cha-young with her heels on, he had broad shoulders and large hands. He looked down at his feet whenever he laughed, which made his glasses slide off his nose ever so slightly. After a while, he’d readjust them and run his hand through his short hair, the start of an endless loop.

He wondered what she saw in him, if it was something in his eyes or in his voice. Did she kiss his knuckles whenever he was working on some paperwork, lost in thoughts yet reluctant to let go of her hand? Did she kiss his neck and whispered ‘I'm here, it’s okay’ whenever he had a nightmare? Did her fingers trace ‘I love you’s’ on his shoulder blades while they were laying in bed? 

And if she did, was it because he looked at her like she was the most precious thing on this earth? Was it because he had secretly learned her favourite recipe, the one her mom used to make when she was sick? Was it because he held her tight when she cried, stroking her hair and murmuring comforting words against her skin? 

He looks harmless, Vincenzo thinks. The alcohol is getting to him.

‘Is he a good person?’

‘Mmh. He is.’

He shakes his head, banishing memories of yesterday’s conversation from his mind. That’s a relief. Cha-young deserves to be with an ordinary man who lives a righteous life, away from all the murders and the evils of this world. Yet, his heart aches every time she smiles at him. 

Him, who is everything he’s not. Him, who’s making her laugh, and smile, and blush. 

The man leans in to whisper in her ear, and Vincenzo can’t take it anymore. He pays for his drinks and leaves, the sound of his lighter not enough to ground him anymore. He needs to get away, far from the sway of her hips and that man’s hand on her lower back. Before he knows it, he’s out of the hotel, on the beach. 

Stuck in his own personal hell, Vincenzo considers atoning for his sins. Surely, the fire blazing inside his body, boiling his blood and heating up his skin is worse than the Inferno he’d ineluctably be condemned to. 

Without thinking, he takes off his shoes, his trousers and his shirt, and dives into the ocean. He needed to put out the fire before he got burned alive. It’s a warm evening but the dark waters feel ice-cold on his heated skin. He swims until the cacophony of the waves crashing against the shore lulls him. He swims until he’s about to drown, limbs too heavy to float. How he manages to get back on the beach, he doesn’t know. He collapses in the sand, exhausted. The distant moon looks down on him, her inquisitive eyes strangely offensive. Tonight, the heavenly body is mocking him. Look at this fool, she laughed. Did you really think she’d wait for you?

Vincenzo wants to scream at her, or maybe at himself, but instead he cries. He doesn’t have the energy to fight it, or to feel ashamed. He is guilty of leaving her and he has no one else to blame. Regret might be an old friend, but guilt is his greatest foe. 

He forces himself to get up, knowing he’d get buried under the weight of his conscience if he stayed any longer. Putting back on his trousers only, Vincenzo carries his shoes and his top until he sees the hotel lights. Were they still dancing together? 

He stops before going inside, lighting a cigarette. He’d taken it up again after going back to Italy, another one of the nasty habits he indulged in. He stood near a huge palm tree, just at the entrance of the main building, probably why he didn’t see him. Cha-young’s… someone was standing there, smoking on the other side of the palm tree. Vincenzo holds his breath, not sure how to react. The man is on the phone, and although it isn’t his business, he can’t help but overhear his conversation. 

“No, no… I told you, nothing’s going on with her...Yes, I promise. I told you, she paid for all her employees, it’s a group thing. Mmh. Don’t worry. I’ll see you soon. Me too.”

Forget torture, Vincenzo is killing this man with his bare hands tonight. 

*‘Sink Not Yet My Soul To Slumber’ is a Christian Hymn SINK not yet, my soul, to slumber, Wake, my heart, go forth and tell, All the mercies without number That this by-gone day befell: Tell how God hath kept afar, All things that against me war, Hath upheld me and defended, And His grace my soul befriended.

[malfoygrass]

I never talk about an ot3 for Draco and Astoria, so...I interrupt my regular programing to talk about my first ot3 Headcannon for Draco and Astoria and Harry. Because I figured if Draco and Astoria ever decided to go in that direction, Harry would be 100% there with them. 

Hear me out:

At first they don’t have anything in common, there’s Harry who feels so out of place in a world that practically worships him that it’s funny. Draco who’s coming to terms with the fact that he needs to change his old ways and Astoria, the morally ambiguous girl who was suffocated by her family's hypocrisy and refused to let Draco wallow in self pity.

Astoria was trying to run away from home when she accidentally found Draco hiding in her train compartment, they're not even friends, just two perfectly sad people who feel better together than apart after the battle of Hogwarts. But they run away together, because he's an ex death eater and she's a broken pureblood, both trying figure out how to build up their lives from scratch, now that Voldemort is dead.

Just two halfway rebellious teens trying to make sense of a present in which they are called adults. (Astoria refuses to call herself or Draco blood traitors, since there was nothing to betray in the first place)

And that’s how they find Harry Potter, in between house hunting in Muggle London, shopping in muggle malls, Draco's panic attacks out over his dark mark and the hallucinations of her survival guilt. they find Harry Potter, who goes to the same cafe each afternoon and also has a lost look in his eyes that Astoria is familiar with. Harry who for reasons of his own also wanted to run away from a world that doesn't really see him. Harry who feels alone after losing so much and yet finds peace in his own company.

So being the person she is, Astoria invites him over to Draco’s new muggle house for posh tea and crap takeout and when the night is over and the mutual apologies are exhausted. Draco tells Harry he's welcome to stay in his guest room whenever he wants.

Astoria's presence is a joy to find comfort in, a blank slate of opinions for Harry to talk to, she makes it easy for Harry to adapt to Draco, to understand his former arch enemy and find himself in places he never thought to look. their lifestyle isn't demanding or ambitious. To Harry, it seems like all they want is a quiet place to heal and figure out who they are, before the future Lord Malfoy and the youngest Greengrass heiress, can assert their true voices in Magical Britain again, and so he stays... because he needs to figure that out too.

Harry teaches Draco how to use a coffee maker and discovers a new appreciation for every old museum in the UK. Once Astoria learns to sew clothes with magic, Harry and Draco find themselves in too many fancy suits for their liking and being made to judge between all her dresses. They visit all the dance clubs Harry ever wanted to try. Draco proves to be an excellent dancer in every type of muggle music much to Harry's amazement, while Astoria makes them both laugh whenever she tries.

Harry exhausts himself teaching Draco and Astoria about the joy in the simple things of life. While Draco and Astoria try to convince Harry that using money to make life easier is the Muggle version of magic. And the thing is that, the three of them don’t notice when love comes into the mix.

Sure Astoria likes Draco, he’s dramatic and stoic and he’s the closest thing she knows to a mirror, he can read her entire volumes of pretentious books and never gives in to her whining when she’s sick, and she likes Harry, because he’s funny and down to earth and a fierce protector over the people he loves, which includes her, she knows Draco enjoys it, she enjoys it too, how Harry makes them feel safe. She likes them both and they are attractive and she knows they like each other so it’s okay to love them like a friend, until it’s not. (And she doesn't know what to do)

And sure Draco likes Astoria and Harry, Astoria because she’s soft and forgiving and she’s got hope enough for the two of them and he’s pretty sure she’d support him even if he turned into a monster and Harry because he’s Harry and past history aside, Harry is just as forgiving as Astoria, he doesn’t put up with Draco’s moods and he gives as good as he gets, Draco likes Harry’s raw honesty, his sarcasm, his sense of humor, if Astoria feels like home, then Harry feels like adventure without leaving home, they both make him happy, Harry and Astoria know enough about muggle culture to lose themselves in London with him, pulling him out of his shell and tag teaming his defenses until he gives in, he is happy to have them both, until he wants more (but he doesn't know how to tell them he wants them both)

And Harry, well he feels like Draco and Astoria are a perfect combination of kindness and spite. He likes Astoria, probably more than he should, given that she’s the archetypal white princess to Draco’s black prince, she’s understanding and patient, warm, mischievous and strong in her fragility, and Harry has never met someone who can speak about caring for one’s enemies like Astoria does, she’s simply the kind of girl who brings comfort wherever she goes and Draco, Harry has learned to like Draco, underneath the pretentious idiocy, there’s actually a good person. Draco is mean, and stubborn, but he’s also smart, ingenious, terribly generous and stupidly indulgent with people he cares about, which are not many, so Harry likes him. They are both more innocent than they should, too prone to overspending, he always feels like they don't know enough of the Muggle world to avoid being swindled, he finds it endearing, and it’s okay to be their friend, until it’s not (he knows he's inlove, but nobody's ever told him it's okay to love two people at once)

It starts when Astoria's nightmares return. Dreams of dead people blaming her for surviving the carnage that make her scream herself awake, Usually Draco is used to awkwardly climbing in her bed and soothing her until she falls back asleep. But this time Harry gets there first and he's much better at it than him (Astoria responds better to Harry's reassurances than she does to Draco's). So Draco lets her calm down in Harry's arms untill she's well enough turn around and seek Draco's more stable and familiar presence.

It's a dynamic that neither Harry or Draco mind, much to Astoria's embarrassment. Truth be told the three of them have nightmares, but only Astoria is held and cuddled by the two of them anytime she so much as whimpers in her sleep. So when Harry wakes up in cold sweat and pretends to be checking up on Astoria only to find that Draco had the same idea, they don't make a big deal out it.

Because Harry has PSTD episodes almost as often as Draco and turning the house into a safe place to heal is what they've been trying to do since the beginning.

Harry needs Draco to remind him how to act normal and sarcastic and he needs Astoria to soothe him into a state of calm. Draco knows they need each other a little bit more at night, and Harry thinks it's nothing to be ashamed of. So Draco isn't. Astoria is weak, Harry is a protector and Draco is a provider. Aside from falling inlove with a classmate's little sister, It's natural to be so close with the boy who used to be your school rival...right?

Astoria's room becomes neutral ground. It eventually gets filled with Harry's things and Draco's things of course. After all her room was meant to be the biggest anyway (Since Draco in all his sexist assholery thought Astoria owned a wardrobe as big as his mother's so she should have the biggest closet) besides it's saves them all time to have Draco's hair products on hand instead of going trough all the trouble of stealing them from his room

Eventually Draco's room turns into an office for Harry and the guest room becomes the potions lab Draco always wanted....

Aaand after a few months of living together, healing together and learning to fit in the muggle world. They decide it's time to go back to face the magical world and their responsibilities.

It turns into a panicked discussion about everything their families and friends are going to expect from them once they rejoin the real world, and in a true Griffindoor fashion Harry makes the first move and tells them he wants to stay together.... But romantically, because at least he is trying to be brave cue the two emotionally constipated Slytherins admitting their feelings.

So there's a lot of talking and more than some kissing involved in that whole emotional confession time. They decide that if they are going to be together then it's going to be them against the world and thats going to be an uphill battle but they're willing to, if it's with the other two.

And yeah that's how I imagine an Ot3 between Draco Harry and Astoria would go

Ps: could someone tell me what this ship is called? Drastroriary? Drarryoria? Haroriaco?