#Memories of the Neighbor's House au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

my313 · 9 months ago

Text

in beomgyu's room 🧸

now playing 𝄞₊⊹ bad - wave to earth & best friend - laufey

⋆ pairing: bestfriend!beomgyu x f!reader

⋆ summary: a reel of your most precious memories in beomgyu’s room(s), and the one time it’s also yours.

⋆ genre/themes/warnings: fluff, childhood friends, best friends to lovers, non-idol au, mention of mommy kink (sorry they have weird inside jokes)

⋆ word count: 3.6k

a/n: this isnt proofread n i dont think its my best writing, i wanted to focus on dialogue a lot more :0 but i just wanted to put out a lil something for gyu's bday <3 our talented pretty boy 🥹 anyways, i hope u enjoy reading this!

2009

beomgyu’s room at eight years old is directly opposite from your window. you recently watched taylor swift’s you belong with me music video, and your unassuming neighbor who just recently moved in has become the center of the romantic production running in your little mind.

when his family invites you over for dinner, you’re giddy to put a name to the pretty boy that’s been in your sights; only ever seeing him with a guitar strapped to his back when he walks by your house as you sit on the porch with a book.

“hi,” he’s the one opening the door, greeting you enthusiastically. you assumed he would have been a shy boy, especially with the way he walked with his head down and never without an mp3 player and wired earphones. that was just one of the many surprises beomgyu had in store for you and your serendipitous friendship.

beomgyu smiles politely at your parents before pulling the door back and letting you all inside. your mother’s ushering you to the boy, hurriedly greeting his parents and leaving you in beomgyu’s care.

you turn to him, shy and unsure of what to do, but beomgyu’s there to pull you out of your daydreams. he slightly tugs the sleeve of your shirt, chin tilted to the direction of the stairs. “wanna play mario kart in my room?”

you’re scanning the room to look for your parents, silently asking permission with your eyes when you catch your dad looking back at you. when he nods, you’re quick to relay it to beomgyu, who returns the biggest smile you’ve seen. boys are usually rough around the edges, either boisterous or freakishly hyper-aware of cooties, but beomgyu is different. he’s just loud enough to have you laughing until your tummy hurts, but he’s also a good listener.

your feet dangle from the height of his bed while he sets up his wii. it only takes a few minutes of tinkering and confused grumbles before beomgyu joins you, sitting close and handing over the controller.

“i’ve never played this game before!” your voice chimes with the game’s background music, fiddling with the buttons on your controller and accidentally pressing something that makes beomgyu laugh.

“that’s okay,” he navigates through the buttons on the screen to take you back to the starting screen. “i’ll go easy on you.”

you may have gotten beomgyu all wrong, because as you inch closer to stealing his first place spot on your eighth round of playing, he throws a green shell at you, putting you off-course.

“that’s so not fair, beomgyu!” you grumble frustratedly, shoulders slumped. beomgyu has a mischievous smile on his face; a different charm to the friendly one you encountered at his doorway, or the re-assuring one when he asked to play mario kart.

“i didn’t even know you could do that.” you whine, twisting your body left and right as if it would take away from your loss.

beomgyu’s mouth opens, but instead of hearing his squeaky voice, you both hear your mom’s.

“yn, time to go home!”

you both tear your eyes away from the doorframe to look at one another.

“teach me next time?” you plead, eyes shiny and hopeful that you’ve got a new friend to play with. someone who would always be next to you.

beomgyu feels similarly. he lets it show by nodding enthusiastically, his rectangular glasses pressed onto his rising cheeks, swelling from all the smiling he’s done tonight.

2017

“choi beomgyu!” you yell from the bottom of the staircase, leaning on the creaky railing despite beomgyu’s constant warnings of ��you’re gonna fall off one day, y’know.”

you’re both sixteen years old, and tonight is prom. unlike the books you read, you were not serenaded by the most beautiful (subjective) boy in school; but like the disney movies, you’re at your best friend’s house and going as each other’s dates.

the idea was initially disgusting to both you and beomgyu, suggested by menacingly blunt choi soobin during one of your escapades to the internet cafe. when prom started to come closer and closer, you and beomgyu would briefly text about it in jokes. the final straw was probably the fact that soobin actually got a date before either of you. so, with only three days to prom and a whole lot of spite, you and beomgyu hunted down matching corsages and sealed the deal.

you glance at the clock on the wall, ticking seven. sick of waiting on your bare feet, you lift the trailing end of your dress and make your way up to beomgyu’s room.

you don’t bother to knock, having seen the worst of beomgyu and his room already. the sight that greets you is anything but what you expect.

you expected heaps of clothes on the floor from his panicked frenzy of not knowing what to put on under his blazer; maybe some mismatched socks, and shoes tossed to every corner out of indecision.

instead, you see beomgyu clad in a neat, black suit, with a navy blue dress shirt. his black hair, usually falling over his eyelashes, is tucked away to show off the face that many come to your classroom to see. just like how he was at eight, you know beomgyu is different; he’s delicate, never gruff, even when he picks you up from your doorstep with bedhead.

beomgyu has always been pretty, but tonight, he’s charming. he’s handsome. just thinking it makes you want to regurgitate your words and flush them down the toilet. it brings upon this weird pit in your stomach that was never there when you were wiping your cheeto-dust fingers on beomgyu’s shirt as some petty form of teasing. that weird feeling you only got when someone cute walked your way, or someone flustered you to the point of developing a crush. you hope it’s nothing too serious.

“woah!”

“what.” beomgyu deadpans, unamused by your exaggerated gasp. in reality, the pink on his cheeks already has you guessing that he’s shy. your beomgyu has always been one for compliments and sweet gestures, recalling how his eyes brightened every time your smaller hands patted his head when you were younger.

“no need to get sassy, jeez,” you roll your eyes playfully, the smile on your face never leaving. “you look good. handsome.”

“thanks,” he smiles sheepishly. it’s silent for a bit, until beomgyu says, “keep ‘em coming…”

“dipshit!” you smack his forearm. “you’ll hear more from everyone tonight, i bet.”

“i guess so,” he shrugs, looking at himself on the full-length mirror, trying to fold his necktie like the way his dad taught him. you move closer, your dress trailing behind you when you drop the sides in favor of helping beomgyu out with his tie. you’re so close; the kind of close you and beomgyu haven’t been ever before, except when you were ten and you fell off your bike, crashing onto him.

you’re in front of him now, looping the fabric and not really looking at him. you can’t tell that he’s staring down at your concentrated face, smiling softly at how your tongue peeks out of your mouth in concentration.

he hasn’t gotten the chance to compliment you back, but he’s noticed how beautiful you looked the minute you stepped into his room. his thoughts only get confirmed further now that you’re just a few breaths apart; your lip gloss has a sheen that’s tempting to swipe off with his own lips, and your eyelashes flutter in the way that beomgyu pictures in a few years time, where you’re waking up next to him every morning.

“not from anyone that matters though.”

your fingers stop working, peering up at your best friend. you don’t really know what to make of how his eyes glisten; how they look fondly at you, so you revert to the only thing you and beomgyu know will fix anything — fooling around, saying something stupid.

“are you saying if soobin complimented you, you wouldn’t give a fuck?”

“you make it sound like i’m in love with him.” you shrug, lips pursed as you continue the final touches of his tie. he bumps his forehead onto yours, making you curse. “what? bros can seek validation from one another!”

“so can i seek it from you, bro?”

you shake your head, amused by his unfamiliar use of the nickname. “whatever. are you done now?”

“no.” you groan. beomgyu pulls away from you first, going to his bedside drawer and fishing out a box.

he come back to your side, this time, with the corsage you both overpaid for. beomgyu wraps it around your wrist and prompts you to turn your hand over, tying it up for you. you watch him intently.

unconsciously, your hands extend to caress his head, gently patting his styled hair. the moment your fingers graze his scalp, he freezes up for a few seconds before resuming, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in his chest.

“i forgot to say earlier,” beomgyu returns to his full height, but his hand is still holding yours. he squeezes three times with his dimples peeking out as he smiles, a semblance of a confession that you fail to pick up on. “you look beautiful tonight, too.”

2021

it’s nearly midnight when you and beomgyu decide that the best activity to do when both of you are jobless on a friday night (saturday morning now) is to dye each other’s hair.

you left an hour ago for a random supermarket run, and you return with a bottle of bleach, developer and a bunch of dyes that were on sale. possibly also a whole new stock of instant ramen. tonight was one of the nights you’re relieved your best friend has a car.

you’re both twenty now, in college and far away from home for a while. still, home doesn’t feel too far away when beomgyu’s still waiting for you outside the girls’ dorm building with disheveled hair. from your freshman year to now, beomgyu’s still been the same beomgyu that you love. you can admit that to yourself now, finally catching the culprit of that odd feeling in your stomach from prom night. though you’re unsure when you can gather the courage to tell him all that.

you’re pushing the door open to beomgyu’s dorm room, seeing his roommate taehyun slipping his shoes on with a backpack.

“are you running away?” you question, half-joking. “beomgyu can’t be that bad of a roommate. he’s like a pet goldfish sometimes.”

beomgyu’s shutting the door behind you when he walks into your odd conversation with taehyun. “that’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said about me.”

“goldfish are so cute though!” you reason with him, your tone higher in pitch as your silly charade continues. taehyun’s joining along too, laughing at the banter between you and beomgyu. “did you know the guy who created goldfish crackers made them because his wife was a pisces?”

“i’m a pisces,” beomgyu proudly states, chest puffed out with the bags of your pointless mission weighing down his shoulders. “would you make me a fish-inspired snack, yn? answer carefully, our relationship depends on it.”

you try to ignore the fact that he says relationship, not friendship. details, details. but beomgyu’s all about details. he didn’t say anything for just no reason, so you can’t help but let the thought fester. for now, you keep up with the jokes.

“you don’t even like seafood, gyu.”

“okay kids,” taehyun interrupts, heading towards the door. “i’m going to the gym. don’t burn the place up, please…”

“i think i’m gonna burn something else.” you snark, looking up at beomgyu’s perfectly smooth hair. he catches your stare and consciously guards his head.

taehyun leaves in the next few minutes, and it’s just you and beomgyu again.

beomgyu’s eyebrows wiggle comically, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you to the bathroom. “w-wait, wait!”

“what? backing out?” he challenges you, shaking you by the shoulders. “yn, you can’t!” his whining is convincing, but mostly because beomgyu has this pout that he doesn’t know you succumb to every single time he pulls it out — which is nearly everyday.

“n-no..! just..”

beomgyu’s face softens. he takes your face between his right hand, squishing your cheeks repeatedly. he huffs mockingly, “fine, you can do mine first.”

in the next hour, beomgyu’s desk chair is situated between the bathroom door and the carpeted floor of the bedroom, holding it open to let the stench of the bleach disperse. you’re sitting on said chair with a towel on your lap, while beomgyu sits on the bathroom floor, legs folded to his chest. his back is leaning against the middle of the chair, but he’s essentially sitting between your legs as you clumsily paint bleach over random sections of his hair.

“sorry if this turns to shit, beoms.” you snicker, layering more product on the strand between your fingers. you’re startled by beomgyu’s movements, his head tilting upwards slightly to look at you before looking back down. “you owe me free food for the rest of our lives if i end up looking like a dalmatian.”

“that’s fine,” you giggle, tapping his shoulder to motion for him to turn around and face you, trying to get the sections with his bangs. “at least i know we’ll be best friends forever.”

beomgyu fights the urge to say something stupid; something that might end the nights of you sleeping over and snuggling close to his chest — the things that pop up in his head range from “you’re so cute, i wanna kiss you.” to “i think i’ve been in love with you for years, so yeah, anyway.”

he still says something rather silly, but he thinks it’s just slightly less off-putting than telling your best friend who you grew up with that you’re in love with her.

“technically, you’d be my sugar mommy.”

you raise a brow, “outing your mommy kink?”

“yes, and?”

fits of laughter fill the air, you have to place the brush back on the sink in case you smack beomgyu’s face from how you throw your whole body around when you laugh. he’s just the same, nearly snorting when he sees how red your face has become.

at some point, you’re still trying to recover from giggling so hard, taking the brush back into your hands and picking out sections of beomgyu’s bangs. he chooses to perch his chin on one of your thighs with his head tilted up, as if admiring you deeply from the ground. beomgyu can ignore the prickly sensation settling on his scalp and the cold tiles of his bathroom floor freezing his butt off if he can see you from this view more often. it reminds him of when you used to let him rest his head on your lap that one time your families went on a road trip, and you both were stuck in the back. or the other times in his childhood bedroom where he’d fall asleep and wake up with your fingers tangled in his hair, head over a pillow on your lap.

beomgyu thinks he fell for you then, that he’d decided that he’d kneel on the ground forever if you asked him to. he thinks he’d probably do much worse if the requests were coming from your pretty lips.

you stop painting over his hair, signaling that beomgyu’s done. you think beomgyu’s going to get up from the floor, his legs crossed and obviously sleeping from how long you’ve had him sitting down there, but he’s still in-between your legs that it stops you from moving too. you’re about to joke around and tell him to get up, but you finally catch onto the fact that he’s looking up at you like he’s stargazing, or watching the prettiest sunset in the summer.

“gyu, what’s up?”

it takes a while for him to respond. beomgyu feels his mind drifting to places he doesn’t know he’s allowed to be in; thinking about how he’s thought of waking up next to you since he was sixteen, and it might have sounded like trying to snatch the sun from the sky back then, but he feels an inkling that it’s not too impossible right now, at twenty, in his room and at your disposal.

“do you remember when we went to prom together?”

you snort, reminded of your trembling hands when your parents asked you and beomgyu to take pictures and pose together, feeling his hand on your waist. “yeah, we looked pretty good.”

“yeah,” beomgyu draws circles and random patterns on your clothed thighs. “we did look pretty good together.”

“what?”

“what did you say, gyu?” your voice comes out in a whisper, even when you try to be firm and persistent.

“you heard me,” he mumbles, finally looking away from you with the pink dusting his cheeks.

“no, i think i have to hear it again.” you tease, flicking his forehead to turn his attention back on you. “come on, say it.”

beomgyu bounces back, eyes trained on you as his lips move faster than any other time you’ve listened to him babble. he’s never even spoken this fast when he’s raging on his matches with soobin.

“jeez, yn, you wanna hear me say i’m in love with my best friend who i have also imagined living together with for the rest of my life?”

he blinks, realizing what he just said. “well… i mean, you got it.”

you press your lips together, trying to hold in the laugh that was threatening to burst out on beomgyu’s deer-in-the-headlights face. you’d feel terrible if you ruined this moment for both of you, so you try and keep it to giggles and a pleased grin.

“you sure you wanna live with me for the rest of your life, beomie?” you tease, bending down and bringing your face close to his. you enjoy the feeling of making beomgyu shy, and you know his guilty pleasure is when you’re rendered flustered and defensive.

“that’s all you got from what i said?” he pouts.

“aw, baby,” cooing at him. if his hair wasn’t slicked with bleach, you would have fluffed it and patted it the way he always liked. “d’you wanna start apartment hunting and writing down our kids’ names?”

he blinks up at you, briefly taking his phone out of his pocket and turning it over to show his notes app. “yeah, go ahead.”

“beomgyu.” you stare at him, slightly bewildered and freaked out, but also endeared.

“i’m just joking!” he puts his hands up defensively.

he taps your thigh again once his arms let up. “...you still haven’t said anything.”

“if it wasn’t obvious enough, choi beomgyu,” you start, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “i’m also in love with you. and i would love to be by your side forever.”

2024

it’s almost been three years since the night beomgyu and you confessed to each other.

everything seems to come full-circle, because you’re twenty three and sitting on beomgyu’s lap while playing mario kart. you have vivid memories of being eight years old and telling beomgyu off for not going easy on a first-timer, but you’ve had years and years of payback for that moment by now.

beomgyu doesn’t need to go easy on you anymore, occasionally yelling in your ear when you sabotage him, only to trail kisses from your earlobe to your neck as an apology.

as you finish up your last game as promised, you turn your head and press a chaste kiss on beomgyu’s cheek. sometimes, you still can’t believe your best friend has graduated from being just that, to being your boyfriend. beomgyu chases after your face as soon as you detach from him, his lips quickly pecking yours.

it took a while until you and beomgyu could live together, only finding a place you could both attest to earlier this year. but since then, you’ve made plenty of memories in every nook and cranny.

you keep old habits like mario kart, and beomgyu purposely makes mistakes with his necktie just so you can tug on it, kiss him and fix it instead. but your life with beomgyu has new bits and pieces that flourished since sharing your love for one another. your shared baths that consist of gossip that beomgyu is overly enthusiastic of; taking selfies every night when you put on sheet masks for each other; and instead of picking you up with bedhead, you have the privilege of seeing beomgyu in a dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up, picking you up from work and waiting for you to fill the passenger seat of his car.

it makes you think not only about all the lovely moments you’ve had with beomgyu, but the ugly parts that only you both know of each other.

“i really hope this is a forever thing, gyu.” you blurt out.

“playing mario kart with me?” beomgyu knows what you mean; he can tell you’re floating in your head when you ask him. still, he lightens the mood.

“yeah,” you chuckle. you suppose he isn’t wrong, you wouldn’t mind this at all.

“baby,” he tucks a hair behind your ear. “look at me, hm?”

“i love you today,” beomgyu kisses your lips, moves to either side of your cheeks. “i love you tomorrow,” now he’s pressing one on your nose. “the day after,” the last one on your forehead. “until we’re old and wrinkly, i love you.”

your smile in the midst of all his kisses is as wide as it was when you first met beomgyu. you cradle his face, rubbing your thumb over his cheekbones then bumping your noses together briefly. it makes beomgyu laugh, the sound still as pretty as when he stumbled over his words trying to confess to you. “there’s no one else i would have fallen in love with other than you, gyu,”

“my best friend in the world.”

#from.313 #313.softhours #txt beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu soft hours #beomgyu soft thoughts #txt soft thoughts #txt soft hours #txt scenarios #txt fluff #txt x reader #313.beomgyu

522 notes · View notes

astraystayyh · 1 year ago

Text

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ winter falls

I'm so excited to announce this collab series with my @forlix where we'll be posting winter themed fics for each one of the boys!!!!! brainstorming these with xi was the most fun ever i hope you'll enjoy our collab (alternatively named dead dick december)

all the fics, except for Chan's, Minho’s and Han's are with a gender neutral reader.

minors & ageless blogs dni w/han’s fic as it is nsfw!

no holiday is specified by name so you can imagine whatever!

we're also opening a special taglist for the series! you can comment down here or send an ask to either me or xian to be added! (6/8 posted)

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Pieces of you ❆ bang chan @astraystayyh (8.7k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ single dad!chan. neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. [posted: 12/02/24]

In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chan and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

Something has melted ❆ lee minho @forlix

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ spy x family!au, fake dating!au, fluff

Your obnoxious coworkers never get off your ass about how single you are, and your temporary husband is too happy to make them eat their words.

Burning in the winter wind ❆ changbin @astraystayyh (4.4k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ (fake) enemies to lovers. hurt/comfort. college!au. [posted: 26/02/24.]

Sustaining an ankle injury during a ski retreat isn't fun. Especially when Seo Changbin volunteers to stay back to tend to you- the one man you can never get a read on.

The snow falls, we fall apart ❆ hyunjin @astraystayyh (13k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ roommates to lovers. angst. hurt/comfort. slow burn. longing.

when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.

(+18) Empty my mind ❆ han jisung @forlix (6.4k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ friends with benefits to lovers, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort. [posted: 06/01/24]

For the first time in a long time, Han Jisung has something to lose.

Everything has changed (besides myself) ❆ lee felix @forlix (5.4k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ exes to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual fluff. [posted: 09/12/2023]

You spend three years loving him, six months losing him, and four hours waiting for him to get the hell out of your house. but the human heart is more stubborn than you know.

Warm winter ❆ kim seungmin @forlix

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ established relationship, hurt/comfort, fluff

“i don’t deserve you,” he breathes, “but god, i want to.”

Please fall before I fall ❆ jeongin @astraystayyh (2.8k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ childhood best friends to lovers. hint of unrequited love (they're idiots) [posted: 18/01/24]

3 times you saved jeongin's ass and the 1 time he saved yours. (and ended up confessing along the way)

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

...titles are all inspired by han's incredible songwriting in Winter Falls, han write a happy song #challengefailed.

#stray kids x reader #skz x you #stray kids x you #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz angst #stray kids angst #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #skz imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic

928 notes · View notes

mrsmandalorian · 6 months ago

Text

burning love

-- angst one shot jackson!joel miller x f! reader

summary: a secret affair goes a little too far.

main masterlist / word count: 7.8k

warnings: 18+ mdni, reader is able-bodied, outbreak!AU, CHEATING, spoilers to TLOU season 2, age-gap relationship, angst!, smut!!!, p in v, fingering, nipple play, sexual teasing, a lot of making out, use of words like pussy, cock, pet names ( baby, baby girl, angel), language, burning building, intense near-death situation.

a/n: howdy loves! this story comes from many places of inspiration from the new season 2 picture to the many fics and tiktoks of the voice memos from "calls" of pedro. i hope you guys all enjoy it! leave me a like, comment, or reblog to show your love. much love to you all - maddie!

The winter snow was finally drying up as the town of Jackson prepared for warmer months. Business in the sewing shop started to slow down a little more since people tended not to care as much for the holes in their clothes in warmer weather. You found more time to catch up on your romance novels and daydreaming. The time was also filled with making alterations to your soon-to-be wedding dress. You were finally set to have an official wedding with your husband, Tripp. You both had considered each other married a long time ago.

You and Tripp had been from a small town in Kansas. Your families were neighbors and fought together for the first fifteen years of the apocalyptic world. You both were only thirteen years old when the world went to shit. Your parents had always set you two up to marry one another. All you knew was Tripp; he was your first kiss, sex, boyfriend, and now husband. You each had to risk your lives for one another at a time or two. He was always there for you like a good man should be for his wife.

The two of you ended up in Jackson after five years of being on your own after your families had gotten infected or passed away from natural causes. Your families were doomsday preppers that had been right about the world. They had turned your neighborhood into a safe place. You and Tripp had stayed in Kansas for two years until the Raiders came. Luckily, Tripp had seen them early, and you could escape with many supplies.

Once escaping, the two of you survived another six months, savaging around for a safe place to lay your head. Sadly, some raiders had caught up with you. Tripp had saved your life from becoming their little toy, but he was severely injured. The infection from the wound had almost killed him. The memory of those days was the most terrifying time of your life. You would be left alone in this lonely, broken world. You were a strong woman. You could make it out there for a while, but you knew you would give up hope. You had almost entirely given up as a group of strangers came riding up on horses to the little house that you had dragged Tripp’s incapacitated body to. The riders went through the house with guns and masks covering half of their faces. You wept as you begged them not to kill you or your husband. He was not infected. You had screamed as they pushed a gun up to his head.

The woman in the group had pulled down her mask, making you less intimidated. She told you she believed you and would help you—only if you would help her. She had seen your supplies and knew you had to have more somewhere. You told her where your childhood neighborhood was and where they could find more supplies if there were any.

Maria had taken you and Tripp into their small town of Jackson and cared for you both. Luckily, Tripp was fully recovered, and both had been given a beautiful place to call home with all the usual life amenities and jobs to occupy your time.

Tripp had taken a job working in many roles and worked himself up to join the Jackson council. He was brilliant for his age and wanted to help others, especially those who saved their lives. He cared to see this place flourish and play a significant role in the community while you liked your small role and tasks and enjoyed the comfort of your cozy home.

After a year of living in Jackson, Tripp decided to make things official with you. He had gotten everything organized with the help of the ladies in town. They had found a beautiful wedding gown for you and wedding bands customized for the two of you.

You would have never dreamed of having an everyday life after the world went to shit—the dream of enjoying your novels with a warm fire and not worrying about your next meal. Your life was near perfect with your fantastic husband.

As you got comfortable in this new life, you realized that your love for Tripp was not what you read in your books. You both came together at night to the same bed, sometimes ending in an intimate moment. It felt like a chore. Everything started to feel like a chore with him, but he’s all you have ever known and cared for. He was so good and loyal to you that you thought wrong for not feeling the same. You were comfortable with him.

Three months after coming to Jackson, a patrol group returned from savaging and visiting your childhood neighbors. Maria’s husband, Tommy, was one of the groups Tripp had introduced you to that evening, along with a few others, including Tommy’s brother, Joel.

At your first impression of Joel, you were scared of the gossip Maria had told you once when you went to her house. His facial expression and personality did not help make you more comfortable with him. From what you could see and hear, he was a dangerous, angry man with a past.

You met his daughter, Ellie, in the sewing shop one day as she brought in some of her and his clothes that had holes. She spoke highly about her father figure and told you how hard he had it. Her words made you sympathetic to him, so you kept an eye on him.

Joel did notice your eye on him. He kept one on you as well. He had learned your routine along with your soon-to-be husbands so he could spy on you without worrying about being seen. He finally got the courage to face you after Ellie complained that her favorite jacket didn’t fit her as well anymore, and she didn't have time to go to the sewing shop.

Joel took the chore for himself because he would get to see you. The interaction was the most awkward conversation ever. You had noticed him enter the shop without saying anything. You sat at the window with your eyes glued to the words of your smutty book, but your focus was on the man holding clothes at the counter, waiting for him to make the first move.

“Hello, I brought some of Ellie’s clothes to be altered if that’s okay.” He shyly grumbled under his breath, which he couldn’t catch. He tried hard not to stare at you too long where you sat reading one of your books that you always had your nose into. He went to the library after you returned some books once and read a few chapters. He was jealous of Tripp of what he was reading, wondering if you were getting ideas for the bedroom from these stories. He thought about those ideas a lot as well but with you.

You had finally gotten your nose out of your book and helped him with his armload of clothes. You awkwardly gave him an estimate of the time you would need and tried not to stare into his big brown eyes too long. You both only exchanged a few words, and then he left. The tension in the room was something you had never felt before. You almost felt embarrassed by how Joel’s appearance made you feel as you stumbled on your words, and your hands slightly shook as you took the clothes and handed him a receipt.

Joel also felt embarrassed about not speaking to you as much as he wished. He turned into a shy, blushing guy when it came to you. You were the most natural, beautiful person he had met in a long time. He could feel the warmth that you only shared with a few. The two of you were more similar than you would think, but you were still good, and he was terrible.

Your heart stung a little when Ellie showed up a few days later to pick up her clothes. You had dressed up nicely that day, finally giving yourself the courage to speak to Joel Miller. You had even hidden the small ring Tripp had given you long ago in the pocket of your jeans as you heard the bell ring on the door.

After Ellie left, you cursed yourself and placed the ring back onto your left hand. How could you think of another man that way and hurt a man who loves you as much as Tripp did? Your guilt from the action had driven you into bed with Tripp that night as you tried to make your thoughts of Joel disappear and fall back into love with your soon-to-be husband. The plan had worked until you were on the way to your shop and saw Joel Miller waiting outside the door waiting on you.

You slowly went to the shop and breathed deeply to calm your nerves. “Good morning, Joel. Ellie picked up her clothes yesterday.” you quickly muttered to him as you unlocked the shop door. He stepped aside nervously and to get out of the way of the door. You go inside, but his foot catches the door before it closes behind you. You look to meet his eyes quickly.

“I know. I came to see if you could help me with a present,” he replied quickly as you held eye contact, which made you lightly blush as you looked away.

“Sure,” you muttered, moving out of the way to let him inside the shop. “Yeah, I can probably help. Who's the present for?” you asked as you turned away and felt his presence following to the back of the shop as you set down your bags. You felt a little touched and excited that Joel brought you something to help him with.

Joel runs his hands together nervously, too occupied watching to answer your question. He shook himself out of his daze as he met your beautiful eyes. “Oh, it’s for Tommy and Maria for the baby,” he answered and looked around the store at some of the projects you had up for trade.

“Well, I sewed some smaller blankets and toys the other week, which would be perfect for a little babe,” you quickly answered and rushed over to the dedicated section of the shop for children. “I crafted her a good number of outfits for my present, but I think this neutral blanket would be perfect.”

He follows you and glances at your incredible craftsmanship. He ran his thick fingers over the soft fabric of the blankets, accidentally touching your hand as you reached for the blanket you described to him. Your hands didn't jerk away but had a quiet moment of your eyes meeting. Your suppressed thoughts came rushing through your mind from the contact, along with Joel’s fantasy from your smutty books. You quickly pull your hand away as you grab the blanket for him and walk swiftly to the counter.

“I could gift wrap this blanket for you as well,” you offered as you set the blanket on the counter and glanced at the broad man. He seems lost in thought as he looks through the other clothing offered at the shop.

Joel thought of things to bring up as he glanced through the clothing. He stopped and saw a familiar shirt in the racks that looked like one of Sarah’s favorite shirts. He ran his large hand over his face to shield his emotions from anyone's view.

You stood at the counter and watched his expression fall before he covered his face. Your curiosity and worry made you instantly frown at the thought of a distraught Joel. He continued to browse the shop as you wrapped the gift, keeping a close eye on him. He eventually strolled back up to the counter, still looking deep in thought and full of emotion on his brows.

“I got everything wrapped for you,” you offer him a gentle smile and walk around the counter to hand him the decorated present. His hands gently take the present from your hands as they gaze at each other; the emotion on his face pains you. You inadvertently held onto his hand and met his eyes. “Joel,” you mutter quickly, “I just wanted you to know if you need anyone to talk to about anything. Before, after, or current events. I’m here for you.”

Joel’s eyes were full of desperation and raw emotion. His heart in his chest dropped into his stomach. He had to tell himself to catch his breath as he struggled to speak. “Thanks,” he nodded quickly as he met your eyes. His thoughts were racing through his mind as your hand remained on his.

You nervously bite your lip as you slowly remove your hand from his calloused one. Joel nodded his head to say farewell. Once, he reached the other side of the door and took a deep breath. He caught himself smiling on the way back home.

For you, the awkward ending to the conversation made you worried that you tried too hard and scared him away. The interaction was on your mind for the rest of the day and the rest of the week.

It took Joel four days to get the courage to show his face inside the shop again. He went inside after seeing Tripp go into the council meeting, which usually lasted an hour or two. He stepped into the shop with light footsteps, heading straight to the counter. You walked out of the back, not hearing the doorbell. You had your wedding dress in hand, stopping dead in your tracks as you saw Joel Miller waiting for you. “Oh, hello, Joel. I didn’t hear you come in,” you scramble around and lay down your dress on the other side of the counter. “What can I help you with today?”

He gives you a slight smile as he watches you scramble. “ Um, I just came in to accept your offer,” he nervously says, wiping his hands on his jeans. The rest of the interaction was the best conversation you have ever had. The conversation started with many nerves, but once he sat down with you to enjoy coffee. He had opened up to you as you did with him. The two of you ended the conversation with a plan to do this again soon.

It was sooner than you thought when he came strolling into the shop three days later with free pastries in hand. Meeting twice a week became the new norm for you two. You had never told Tripp about these secret meetings with Joel in the shop. It was all innocent…until it wasn’t.

The tone of your relationship with Joel changed one evening as he helped you move some racks in the store. You had accidentally hit your head on the pole of the rack. Both laughed well, but Joel got to your level to check out the goose egg. The interaction moved slowly, eyes meeting as you both smiled big at the accident. The proximity of your faces made you catch your breath, mainly because of the growing tension. Before you know it, his warm lips met yours. Neither of you pulled away, letting your hands meet his face's sides. The kiss was the most passionate kiss you had experienced.

After a few moments, you jerked your lips from his and stood up quickly as you hit your head again. You let out a groan of agony and rubbed your head, “I’m so sorry. We shouldn’t have done that,” you muttered as he helped you up.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he uttered as his concerned eyes met yours. “Is your head okay?”

“You didn’t upset me at all. It was very nice. I, um, I don’t know. My head’s fine.” you giggled nervously and rubbed your goose egg on your head. He quickly found a plastic bag and ice to assist you with your injury. The silence spoke volumes as you both danced around each other and the kiss.

“I thought it was nice too. I’m sorry that I did it. I won’t do it again,” he pleaded as he started to get all his stuff together to leave. You quickly moved your way to him and laid a hand over his.

“Joel,” you muttered, nervously biting your lip as you cupped his cheek. Your eyes met his, and your lips met again as well. This kiss was a little more chaotic as his large hands met your hips. The passionate scene began as he pulled you in him and leaned you against the small table as he took control of the kiss. Your breathing was in unison as you hungrily groped at one another.

After a few moments, you pulled away and touched his chest. “No one can know,” you yelled out as he eased off of you.

He nodded, keeping his large hand on your hips as he pulled you into one more peck. “You don’t know how long I have dreamed of your lips,” he mutters against your lips and gives you one more peck for good measure.

His comment makes you blush as you think the same thoughts as the two of you who have grown closer to one another. “I’m serious, Joel. Not even Ellie can know of this. And no feelings either. I’m getting married in less than a month. It has to end before that,” you sternly say as you gesture between them.

“Yes, ma’am,” he grumbles as he pulls off of you and collects his stuff after seeing that the sun is about to set, which means Tripp will return from patrol soon. “Our little secret,” he winks at you with a smirk.

You teasingly roll your eyes at the broad man as he heads towards the door. “See ya later, Joel.” You let out as he gives you a wave and a wink. You sit at the little table and shake your head as you start blushing at the memories. The guilt was starting to set in, but the excitement of the thrill coexisted.

The subsequent few interactions with Joel happened inside the shop when Tripp had gone out to patrol or into a meeting. Only a little happened besides the make-out session with slow hands. You would talk about how you were feeling or the memories in the conversation.

The first time you two had decided to take your secret relationship to the next level, you had to be planned out, not in the romantic sense, but in the privacy sense. Joel’s naughty, sweet nothings had made you want to wait until you could fully enjoy your pleasures with one another instead of a few quickies.

After breakfast in the dining hall, you sat with Tripp and his patrol group as they discussed plans for their two-day savaging trip, which they would take up to a region they hadn’t explored recently. Families had given them requests for specific supplies and to watch for anything wedding-themed.

Your quick eye contact with Joel as everyone prepped their horses for the trip sent a shiver down your spine. Your legs squeezed together in anticipation of lying with your secret lover.

Tripp had pulled you into a loving hug and quick peck as he pledged to see you soon, hopefully with a surprise. The caring remarks squeezed your gut with guilt as you returned the loving looks, even if they were semi-fake.

Joel had disappeared before the horses left the gate, heading home to avoid making your plan too apparent to others. After poking around town for an extra fifteen minutes, you made your way down the street of homes with your hands full of a fake decoy of clothes that you might be delivered to someone. Only a few people wandered the streets at this hour.

Relief radiated from you as you stepped onto Joel’s doorstep's old wood. As you slipped inside, you knew the door was unlocked. The house was a comfortable temperature to discard your coat. You heard loud footsteps upstairs as you made your way up them. “Joel, I’m here,” you quietly announced.

His broad frame slips from what you would guess was his room, and he is wearing only an undershirt and his jeans. Seeing his large muscles and chest peeking out of the short-sleeved shirt made you turn red like a tomato. He looked sexier this way (which you didn’t think could be possible). “Well, hello there, gorgeous,” he says as his large hands find their familiar rhythm on your hips, pulling you closer to his toned body.

“I’m nervous,” you quickly admit to him as you chew on your lip. His eyes watched as your teeth sucked your lips with desperation, darkening from his thoughts. “I’ve only been with one person, and we could be doing everything wrong,” you joke nervously. His thumb runs against your cheek as he cups your face.

“You’re going to be just fine, angel. I’m going to teach you a thing or two, I bet,” Joel whispers against your lips as he lands his plush lips against yours.

You quickly pull away, looking up at him. “Well, I’m ready whenever you are.” The nerves were getting the best of you as you wanted it to end.

“Slow down, angel. You are supposed to enjoy the foreplay. Do you know what foreplay is?” He asks as he pushes your body more against the wall.

“Of course I do. My books discuss foreplay, but I’ve always been too nervous to ask Tripp about it. I usually just touch Tripp a little and spit on my hand to wet myself and him, then we fuck.” You explain the way of your everyday sex life. It was all you knew how it went in the real world; your smutty books seemed like fantasy to the realism of your bedroom time. Tripp didn’t know of the dirty little books you were reading.

Joel chuckles as his large thumb runs against your partially opened lips, towering over you with a hungry look in his eye. The weeks of intimate make-outs and slow hands have worked up the anticipation. He is pulling you into a passionate kiss, holding you against the wall. One hand cupped and kept your face still; the other pressed against the wall above your head, enclosing you against the wall.

He nibbles on your lower lip, pulling on your lip until you let out a moan and distracting you from the work of his hands as they move down your body. “So many things to teach you, angel. You look mighty beautiful today,” he whispers against your lips as his fingers gaze at the edges of your dress, causing goosebumps to spread over your body. “I know we already discussed boundaries and safe words, but I want to hear it from you again.”

You were so caught up in the tension and his wandering hands that you nodded your head along with what he said while you processed it. “Oh, um, yellow means uncomfortable. Red means stop,” you mumble to him as your cheeks glow red.

“Good girl,” he groans as his fingers go up the skirt of your dress, running against your thighs full of goosebumps. He uses his pointer finger to run across your mound, “someone’s excited for this to happen.” He smirked as his dark eyes held heavy eye contact as he watched your reactions to his touch.

You let out a shaky breath as you try to untense your body. He started to kiss down your neck, which caused you to lean your head to the side. His worn face and kisses and nibbles cause you to let out a light moan against him. His fingers tease you as you push your hips into his palm.

“Let’s move to the bedroom, beautiful,” he whispers against your skin as he gropes your ass. You nod in agreement because you can’t use your words.

He guides you into his clean bedroom. The bed looks like it was quickly made after he got up this morning. Sunlight peeks through his blinds, lighting the room well. He guides you to the edge of the bed, where his fingers find the zipper of your dress. He meets your eyes for approval and a dirty, smug look.

The anticipation of seeing you naked has been itching at Joel for weeks. His fingers delicately unzip you from your dress, leaving you in your undergarments. They were nothing special, but the look on Joel’s face would make you think that you had the sexiest Victoria's Secret lingerie on. Your cheeks turned a new shade of pink, and he asked quickly for consent to continue his work. He palms at your clothed breast gently, then gradually becomes more aggressive. You let out small sounds of pleasure as he works at your breast. He leans in to kiss you sweetly, continuing down to your neck and chest. He licked and kissed down your neck to chest, fingers finding the clasps of your bra.

You started to feel the guilt of not pleasuring Joel. You ran your hand up to cup his face, which caused him to look desperate, giving you a second of control. You ran your fingers through his hair and pulled slightly as his fingers finally opened your bra. It fell down your shoulder; he pulled it wholly off your chest. The cold air contact made you whimper, making Joel’s desperate eyes change to a more dominant dark look.

He takes control quickly, setting you down on the bed. He pulls your legs through your panties and starts to kiss your breast, groping the other as he works. His clothed hips sat against yours as you lay on the edge of the bed. His hardened member pulsing against your core, your hands nervously find their way down to him. You rub him through his jeans as you think of a dirty idea.

You wrap your naked body around him, “Will you flip me on top, baby? I wanna try something,” you whimper out to him, which causes him to grin like a villain. He quickly flips and takes his shirt off.

“Do you want me to take my jeans off? They might be a little uncomfortable to sit on,” he quickly says as he doesn’t lean back yet onto the bed. His hands grip your waist to support you, looking up to you for a response.

“No, keep them on,” you mumble back with a light blush. You had never taken control of anything in the bedroom; your dirty thoughts were finally answered. You perched your slit right on top of his clothed member, which caused Joel to let out a shaky breath. He could not keep his eyes off your body and face, smirking like the luckiest man in the world.

You grind your hips against his clothed half, letting out a slight moan from the contact. His hands grip your ass as you continue. The contact from the jeans on your bare pussy was more intense than you thought. You continued to grind until you lost control for a few. Joel sat back and enjoyed watching you pleasure yourself on him.

“Maybe take your jeans off,” you blushed after enjoying yourself. You sat up for him to take them off, helping him unbuckle himself. You gawked at the size of him through his white underwear, swallowing hard as you nervously thought of how he would fit inside of you. He pulls his jeans off, leaning up to meet you in a passionate, messy kiss and holding your naked body against his.

“Look how wet you are for me, baby girl,” he mumbles against you as he pulls up the crotch of his jeans. The sign of your pleasure makes him more horny and want to show you more pleasure. He enjoys the sight of the bright blush and tries to hide your face as you giggle from him, calling out the wetness of his jeans. “I think I want to see for myself,” he bites his lip as he gently sets you on your side beside him. His fingers run up your thighs and gently spread your legs apart as you twist onto your back. You slowly allow him to spread your legs, admiring all of you. “Jesus, baby, soaking wet for me.”

He runs over your pussy lips with his large fingers, stimulating your clit with his other thumb. He smirked as you squirmed from the sensation, arching your back slightly. He continues to tease your sensitive exterior until you beg him for more. Between shaky breaths and moans, you met eyes with Joel as he smirked down at your pleasure, seeing him palming himself from your noises.

Joel finally reached up to your lips as you sucked on his fingers for a few moments, which caused him to let out a groan as you made flirty eye contact with him. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and slowly inserts them into your wet sensitive pussy. Your hand finds the sheets quickly as you moan for Joel. He starts a deep rhythm into you as his thumb works your clit. He whispers sweet nothings to you as he admires your current state. You grind yourself against his motions, which causes more intense pleasure.

“Fuck, Joel, I think I’m gonna cum,” you let out a desperate cry as you were confused by the new pressure Joel was showing you. You had touched yourself to your fantasies and done it to yourself, but this was much different (and better).

“You think? Has a man never made you cum?” he asks with a smug look as he continues to pleasure you, inserting another finger as you cry in pleasure. You shake your head no to him as your hands find your pebbly nipples and run your fingers across them. Joel watches you intensely grind against him and play with your nipples. He could almost cum in his pants from the sight. Your shaky breath and hip motions increase as he continues to finger fuck, “You got it, baby girl. Being such a good girl for me. Cum on my fingers,” he praises you until you let out a sharp yelp of pleasure and came on his fingers.

You throw yourself onto the mattress as you try to catch your breath. “Holy shit,” you mumble and look up to Joel as he slowly pulls his fingers out of your glossy pussy. He brings his wet fingers to his mouth and licks one clean with a moan of pleasure.

“Such a good girl. You taste as good as I thought,” he says as he smirks, cleaning you off his fingers.

Your eyes wander down to his package, and you bite your bottom lip at the sight of his throbbing member. You reach your hand up to him, leaning forward. You take his long shaft into your hand and palm him gently. Joel’s head throws back from the contact, groaning in pleasure.

Everything moves quickly from this moment on. You help Joel take his underwear off and pump his pre-cum leaking cock. You lean over and give his tip a dramatic kiss as you look up to meet his dark eyes. You eventually guide him inside your mouth for a few moments to give him a little loving.

He lets out a loud moan as he grips your hair, as you use your mouth to please him immensely. You pull off of him with a prominent chin on your face, which he cups and gives you a messy kiss. Before you know it, he flips you onto your knees, and he is behind you now. He gropes at your breast, and his sizeable naked cock grinds against your ass. “Are you ready, angel?” he asks as he leans you up to each other and waits for your response.

“Yes, Joel, more than ready,” you giggle to him as your legs shake in anticipation. One of his large hands wraps around the hip to your front, holding you against him. He lined up their bodies, inserting his thick head into you. Your head throws back in pleasure as he slowly inserts himself fully into you. “Joel, fuck,” you let the whimper as you let your body fall against his as he starts to thrust slowly into you.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asks into your ear as he slows his actions for your response.

“You're so big, Joel, but you feel so good,” you breathly moan at him, grinding your hips into his thurst.

“You're taking me so well, baby girl. Feels so good,” he groans in pleasure as his grip on your hips tightens, thrusting deep.

The intimate fucking lasted until nightfall, with many orgasms occurring. At the end of the moment, Joel and you are lying on your backs, trying to catch your breath as you giggle with one another.

“That was better than I could ever imagine, baby girl. ,” he says as he holds you close and kisses your neck. You giggled and wrapped your arms around him, rubbing your breasts against him.

Joel helped you wash off and prepare to go home for the night. The interaction was friendly and a promise to continue to see each other in the morning to fuck again. The following day was full of more pleasure and many, many orgasms.

Tripp came home, and you were terrified that he would notice a change or something off, but he didn’t. Everything seemed the same as it was before he left.

Joel and you still met twice a week inside the shop. Some of the visits ended with you bent over the table in the back or riding him in the chair.

One of the risky quickies you had was on a movie night in town. Everyone had gone ahead, and Joel said he would stay home, but you told everyone that you had forgotten something at home. You met at a secret secluded spot in town. Joel fucked you hard as he covered your mouth with his large hand, fully clothed.

The secret sex affair had never felt like it played the line of emotional attachment until one evening.

You had been informed of an old craft store the groups had found savaging for supplies. Tripp had invited you to come with him and a group to search for supplies for the town, such as fabrics, crafts, and other supplies you might need. The group would burn the small town down so no one would be attracted to it after the fact since nothing would be there. (They would make sure it didn’t start a wildfire but burn buildings to prevent people from coming closer to Jackson.)

The group of ten people, along with a wagon, was plenty for the mission to salvage the small town. The group included Tripp, Joel, Tommy, Maria, and two other friends of yours. After spending most of the day, it was time to head out after savaging through dusty shelves of picked-over craft supplies. You did find a lot of valuable items that will be helpful for the shop.

You loaded your last box of supplies into the wagon as the guys started to burn other buildings around. You look through your pile as you get excited over your finds. Then you noticed you forgot something inside. You look over to tell Tripp, but he is somewhere else. You should have enough time to grab the last box before they set fire to the building.

You quickly run inside and search for the box you had put together. You could hear some commotion outside the building. Looking around, you finally found the box and ran over to it. Before reaching the box, you slipped over a line of oil the guys had put for the fire. You tried to stand up quickly but couldn’t because of the pain in your ankle. You curse yourself as you try to get up.

Outside the building, the guys had started to light the gasoline line they had already laid down. Tripp was the one to light it. Everyone backed away to their horses and wagon, chatting amongst themselves.

“Um, I’m only seeing five out of six of us,” Tommy says as he runs his hand through his hair, looking around for you.

By this time, you could see the flames inside the building. The flame ran along the line of oil that you were sitting in, which was all over you. You let out a scream of help to the others outside.

Joel was the first to hear you after becoming aware you were missing from the group. Tripp finally realized what was happening, but Joel was already soaking his handkerchief in water and covering his airways to run inside after you. His whole body was in fear of how he would find you. Your screams of terror made him move further into the blazing building. He found you in one of the further rooms holding your ankle and a box of supplies.

“Joel,” you gasped as you tried not to inhale more smoke than you already had. His large arms picked you up quickly and carried you to safety. At that time, you had knocked unconscious from all the smoke inhaling.

Tripp ran to Joel as he carried you outside of the building. “What have I done?! I didn’t know she was inside. Thank you, Joel,” the man rambled as he tried to help Joel to the wagon.

Joel had helped the others get you into the wagon, but his body hit the ground as he tried to catch his breath. Maria jumped into the wagon to help assist you while Tommy helped his brother strip off his clothes and cool him down.

“Is she okay?” Joel let out a shaky breath as he drank some water Tommy had given him. Tommy looked at the level of concern on his brother's face. There was something different in the way he asked and looked at you at this moment that made him raise questions that he would never bring up. The others besides Tripp noticed the same level of concern for you from Joel but didn’t say anything because he had just saved your life.

After gaining consciousness, you slowly recover from the smoke inhalation and start to become more of yourself over the next few days. You had not seen Joel since you were bedridden the last few days. Others had come to visit you with surprises, or their presence made you feel better.

You felt good enough to return to your shop about a week later. The excitement of organizing your new supplies and Tripp's sweet support have driven you to recovery. You kissed Tripp goodbye and headed for the day as he attended a council meeting.

After an hour, you finally found a great organizational system for your new finds. The sound of the shop bell brought you out of your headspace, and you prayed it was one person. You walked around the counter and saw a small bouquet with a small note waiting for you.

‘Hope you are well. - J’ was the only message scribbled on the piece of paper. Your head feels light-headed as your feelings start to make you emotional. He never came to check on you or had a second for you to thank him for saving your life.

You had gone out of your way three days later to visit Joel’s home. You come with a small present of a new flannel shirt with a custom name embroidered into the sleeve. No one had answered the door when he should have been home. Joel sat in his upstairs window, watching you as you knocked on his door. He felt more emotional than he should have watched you leave the present on his doorstep and wiped the tears from your eyes before you turned towards the street. Both of your hearts ached more than they should have from your “non-emotional” affair.

You had received a visit from Joel in the shop or any secretive message from him again after the flowers. The only contact with the broad, mysterious man was from group settings with friends. Your relationship with Tripp had improved from the relationship to the bedroom.

It was the day of your wedding. All the work you both had put into it had finally paid off. You felt off the whole day as your friends surrounded you with much love. You put on your wedding dress as you tried not to smirk at the dirty thought of Joel fucking you in it after you had finished your alterations on it, along with his creative ideas for it.

The day you had dreamed of all your life was a haze, and it did not feel the way it was supposed to. You could barely focus on the day as you tried to find that one person throughout it.

As you make your way down the aisle, you can't help but look around at your friends and community members with a big, fake smile. You find the beautiful brown eyes on Joel as you slow your walk down to meet Tripp. You couldn't help but match the pained look on Joel’s face as you saw each other. You quickly recovered when you met Tripp at the altar.

The officiant was Tommy, as he was one of Tripp’s closest friends and mentors. He talked highly of you and read off the typical wedding speech of love and endearment of marriage.

“If anyone objects to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace,” Tommy said as he looked out into the crowd, looking for his brother's eyes, which he could not find in the audience. You found yourself doing the same as Tommy. You felt your heart fall into your stomach from the question, but you thought it broke as you saw no sign of the person you wanted to find and hear speak up.

The wedding was a great success, and much love was spread amongst the community. You had only dreamed of it happening in this messed-up world. The wedding night ended up at the Tipsy Bison, where you hung on your husband's arm and drank your secret emotions in whiskey and anything you could get your hands on. Maria and some of the ladies in your bridal party helped you into the restroom as you felt queasy.

Joel had eased his way into the bar as he watched you hang on your husband’s arm. He had left the wedding early, drinking his sorrows away all day. He hadn’t been the man he thought he could be, but he showed up to the wedding and swept you away from your husband. His cowardly, drunken self had shown up in the bar more like stumbled into it.

It took him a while to reach your newlywed husband as he saw you go to the restroom. “Congratulations, Tripp! You got yourself a lovely wife and life. One man can only be so lucky,” Joel drunkenly says to Tripp as he wraps his arm around him. Trpp looks around at the guys around them.

Tripp nervously chuckles as he looks back at Joel, “thanks, Joel. I know I am the luckiest man in the world today,” he says as he lifts his beer to him.

They cheer their glass of whiskey and make small talk amongst themselves. Joel orders every one of them a round of shots. He rewraps his arm around his shoulder, pulling him in to whisper in his ear. “When was the last time you fucked her?” Joel whispers into Tripp’s ear.

Tripp whips his head around to him and throws him off his shoulder, “Excuse me, Joel?” He sternly asks him as he looks more shocked than ever. At this time, the girls had helped you out of the bathroom and nursed you with a glass of water as you walked back into the bar. You look up from your glass to see the scene of your husband and lover.

Joel chuckles and shrugs his shoulder, “Boy, I said, when was the last time you fucked her?” he says calmly with a wicked smirk on his face. “And I don’t mean the pathetic.

Fuck that she told me that you gave her. I mean, like a proper fucking her where she can’t remember any dick beside mine.” The smirk on his face as the words come out his face, and everyone’s faces drop in shock from them. Tripp’s fist on Joel’s face is the first sound anyone hears besides gasps. Joel doesn’t fight back as Tripp punishes his beautiful face. Tommy and some of the other patrol group members are the ones who break them up. You didn’t even notice that you had fallen in shock when you met Joel’s eyes, and Tommy pulled him outside.

Before Tripp could find you, you ran for the only place you thought you could be safe: the sewing shop. The tears, dirt, and memories of your affair ruin your precious wedding dress as you run through all the dirt to your safe space. You hysterically cry yourself to sleep as you know your secret has been told to the world. They were going to shun you and kick you out into the cruel world again, you feared.

By the time you awoke in the morning, it seemed the whole town had forgotten the terrible incident at the Tipsy Bison. You walked into your shared home with Tripp quietly to find him passed out on the couch, holding an empty whiskey bottle. The guilt and pain made you want to run away from these problems.

You eventually wake your groom up and tell him everything that happened with Joel. You apologize and promise to work on your relationship. It felt like he had forgiven you too quickly. There were boundaries and much more to discuss, but you planned to work out your relationship with your sweet husband.

After spending a few days off from the shop on your “honeymoon,” you finally returned to your shop to help the community with all its clothing issues, and Tripp went back to his routine. Joel had reportedly left on a solo patrol after the wedding after a rough discussion with Ellie that night.

You casually looked out the window from the shop every time you heard the large gates of Jackson open, hoping to see those locks of brown hair. To just talk to the man that you swore never to love, but that was a lie you always told yourself.

Joel had never returned. Ellie eventually went after him and returned with the news that made you drop to your knees from the worst news ever. He was gone. Forever. Your lover, Joel Miller, had left this world without saying goodbye.

Thank you for reading!

#pedro pascal x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfic #mrsmandalorianfanfics #mrsmandalorian

319 notes · View notes

ijustmissyouraccenths · 7 months ago

Text

I Want To Kill Her (Part 2)

Au where Y/N and Harry are neighbors who find out their spouses are cheating with each other.

Based off Fortnight by Taylor Swift

Part 1

CW: Smut, cursing, unprotected sex, emotional abuse.

Word Count: 10,085

The months following the gut-wrenching discovery of Teddy's affair were a chaotic storm of emotions and turmoil. The idea of my spouse, the person I trusted most in this world, being unfaithful was unbearable. But without any concrete evidence, doubt enveloped me like a thick fog, suffocating me as I struggled to regain my footing. Though I desperately wanted to believe he wasn't cheating, the blatant signs and whispers from those around us made it impossible to deny the painful truth.

Rage and heartbreak battle within me as I struggle to forgive Teddy, to find a way to salvage our relationship. But each attempt is met with the painful memories of his infidelity, burning like acid through my veins. I'm terrified of losing my British citizenship, my sense of identity and belonging, if I leave him. And even worse, I dread the thought of calling my family and confessing the truth - that not only did Teddy betray me with another woman, but in some sick twisted way, I am also to blame. My family adored him like a son, and he gave me a life beyond my wildest dreams. How could I ever reconcile these conflicting emotions?

Harry's sudden decision to divorce Rosie sent shockwaves through the once peaceful fortress of their home. In just a week, he had packed his bags and walked away, leaving behind a cold and empty shell that was now up for sale. As new potential buyers roamed the halls, I couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal from Harry's abrupt departure. The last time I saw him was in a dingy motel room, where we spent a desperate night together before he vanished without a trace. His disappearance was calculated and cruel, fueled by his seemingly endless wealth and power. Meanwhile, I was left with nothing but uncertainty and the option to return home to Florida. But Harry's resentment only grew as I hesitated to make a final decision. He wanted me to walk away with no regrets, but real life is messy and complicated - far from the neat and tidy ending he desired.

I was trapped in a prison of a house, held captive by a man who claimed to love me but had truly only created a tangled web of chaos and pain. We forced ourselves into therapy every week, desperate to salvage something from the wreckage he had caused. But even after all the sessions, I still felt like I was drowning in the suffocating grip of his selfishness. It was never enough, and I could feel my sanity slipping away with each passing day.

Evenings rolled into nights and days blurred into months. Each moment seemed agonizingly long as I begged time to fly quicker, to wash away the stale taste of betrayal and deception from my existence. The house that once echoed with laughter and love now felt eerily silent, its walls whispering Teddy's betrayal during the quietest hours. My heart ached in ways I never knew possible, each pulse a reminder of the pain he had caused.

In a bid for relief, I threw myself into cooking elaborate meals, organising closets, watering the drooping plants Teddy had once loved. Yet every activity was tainted with the memory of him - his laughter rings in my mind as I repeat chores we used to do together. It was a desperate plight to keep myself sane amidst the storm that threatened to break me down.

Teddy's unfaithfulness took its toll on my spirit, but Harry's abandonment shattered me entirely. I played over our last night together again and again in my mind. There was something feral about that night; lust mixed with desperation and an underlying tone of finality. He left without any explanation, disappearing like a ghost only leaving behind the faint scent of his cologne and a raw wound that refused to heal.

The cracks were beginning to show. Laughter seemed forced, smiles rarely reached my eyes. The weekly therapy sessions felt more like an interrogation than relief, talks of my own explicit night replaying session after session. Hours spent scrutinizing every detail of our dysfunctional relationship only amplified my misery. Every shared secret, every stolen glance, every whispered promise – all now seemed meaningless and distorted under the harsh scrutiny of reality.

In the end, it was not Teddy who broke me; it was me who had allowed myself to be broken by him. My judgment clouded by love hindered me from seeing the man he truly was – a master manipulator cloaked in charm and charisma. The truth was painful to accept but liberating in its own cruel way. I was no longer in denial. I was no longer the woman who would bend over backwards to accommodate the whims of unfaithful men. I was stronger than my heartbreak, stronger than their deceit. And most importantly, I learned the toughest lesson of my life – not all love is meant to be cherished; sometimes, it's better left discarded.

As I sat in the therapist's office, the stark white walls closing in around me, my voice cracked as I attempted to verbalize the turmoil within me. "I just don't understand how it got to this point," I admitted, tears threatening to spill over.

Dr. Richards leaned forward, her gentle gaze meeting mine with empathy. "It sounds like you've been through a lot of pain and betrayal," she said softly. "But remember, healing begins with acknowledging the truth."

I nodded, wiping away a stray tear that escaped down my cheek. "I know, but it's so hard to let go of everything that was once so real to me."

Dr. Richards offered a kind smile. "It's okay to feel that way. It's all a part of the process." She paused before continuing, "Have you considered what you need to do to move forward from this?"

I took a deep breath, the weight of the question settling heavily on my shoulders. "I... I think I need to start by forgiving myself for allowing this to happen. For not seeing the signs sooner."

The words hung in the air between us, heavy with unspoken pain and regret. Dr. Richards reached out and placed a comforting hand on mine. "Forgiveness is a powerful tool, both for yourself and for others," she said gently.

I closed my eyes, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. "But how do I forgive someone who shattered me into a million pieces?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Dr. Richards' voice was steady and reassuring as she replied, "Forgiveness doesn't mean forgetting or excusing their actions. It means releasing the hold they have over your heart and mind."

As I sat there, grappling with the weight of forgiveness, a million thoughts raced through my mind. Dr. Richards' words lingered like a balm on my wounded soul, but the path to healing still seemed daunting.

"I understand that forgiveness is crucial, but how do I even begin to untangle the mess he left behind?" I asked, my voice wavering with uncertainty.

Dr. Richards leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. "It's a process, one step at a time," she said gently. "Start by acknowledging your pain and allowing yourself to feel it without judgment."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I nodded, the emotions swirling inside me threatening to spill over. "It's just so hard to let go of the anger and hurt," I confessed.

She nodded in understanding. "Anger is a natural response to betrayal, but holding onto it only prolongs your pain. Remember, forgiveness is not for his benefit, but for yours."

Her words struck a chord deep within me, resonating with a truth I had been avoiding. "I want to move forward, but I don't know where to begin," I admitted, feeling lost in the sea of my own emotions.

Dr. Richards reached for a tissue and handed it to me with a gentle smile. "Start by being gentle with yourself," she advised. "Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself, a release from the burden of carrying someone else's actions."

I took the tissue gratefully, wiping away my tears as her words sank in. "I never thought of it that way," I murmured, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the pain.

She gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "You are stronger than you realize. Forgiveness is not about condoning what he did; it's about setting yourself free from his grip on your heart."

As I sat there, enveloped in Dr. Richards' compassion and wisdom, a sense of peace washed over me. The road to forgiveness may be long and arduous, but with her guidance and my own resilience, perhaps one day I could truly let go and embrace the healing that awaited me.

The following weeks were a whirlwind of emotion, a rollercoaster of highs and lows. I spent many sleepless nights replaying old memories, wrestling with anger and regret. But with each passing day, the burden on my heart felt lighter. I began journaling my thoughts, pouring out my hurt into ink instead of letting it fester within me. And despite the painful contents, there was a strange sort of relief in seeing my emotions spelled out on paper.

"Writing can be therapeutic," Dr. Richards had suggested during one of our sessions. "It provides a safe space to confront your feelings, as raw and as tumultuous as they may be."

Within the quiet sanctuary of my mind and the solitude of my room, I started to delve deeper into myself; into the wounds that had been inflicted upon me and the ones I had unknowingly inflicted upon myself. The process was painful but cathartic. For each tear that fell onto the pages of my journal, there was a tiny piece of pain and bitterness being released.

Days turned into weeks, and slowly but surely, I found myself becoming less consumed by his betrayal and more focused on my healing. I started attending group therapy sessions where I met others who bore similar scars – our shared experiences bound us together in a circle of empathy and understanding.

In those group meetings, I realized that pain was universal but so was resilience. Listening to others narrate their journeys of recovery ignited a spark within me. I saw mirrored in their stories my own strength and determination to rise above the ashes.

One day, while looking at myself in the mirror after another group therapy session, something remarkable happened. Staring back at me was a woman who looked familiar but different—a stronger version of myself; a survivor. My reflection no longer showcased the woman betrayed by love but instead revealed a woman who had found strength amidst despair.

“I am not just a victim,” I whispered to my reflection, the words filling the room with a newfound determination. “I am a survivor.”

The following week in Dr. Richard's office, I found myself recalling this moment with a sense of pride. "I am starting to see changes," I admitted, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

She returned my smile, her eyes filled with warmth and encouragement. "Change is a testament to your strength and resilience," she responded. "You're embracing this journey with courage, learning to forgive not just him, but yourself as well."

Her words felt like a beacon of hope guiding me through the foggy path of recovery. While the pain still lingered like an unforgotten ghost, each day it seemed less potent than before. I was indeed learning to forgive—forgive him for his betrayal and forgive myself for my blindness to his deceit.

As our session ended, I left Dr. Richards' office feeling lighter than when I had come in. With every step away from her office and every step towards home, I was journeying farther from the woman who had allowed herself to be broken by betrayal and closer to the woman who had found strength in her own resilience.

Journaling had become my safe haven, a place where I could pour out my deepest thoughts and emotions without fear of judgment. But that sanctuary was shattered when one day, in a rush to make it to therapy on time, I left my journal open on the bed. My heart stopped when I returned to find Teddy holding it, his eyes scanning the pages filled with my most vulnerable moments. In an instant, my privacy was invaded and my trust was broken.

The tense silence in the room shattered as Teddy's furious voice pierced the air, causing my heart to skip a beat. I watched helplessly as he held my journal in a white-knuckled grip, his eyes scanning the pages with growing anger. "What the actual fuck is this?" he bellowed, his face contorted with rage.

I stood frozen, my mind racing to find the right words to diffuse the escalating situation. "Teddy, please put that down," I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper, but he ignored me, his expression dark and menacing.

With a sharp intake of breath, I lunged forward to grab the journal from his hands, but he deftly sidestepped me. The tension crackled between us like electricity, each heartbeat echoing in the turbulent silence that enveloped the room.

"You've been writing about our sessions? and Harry?" Teddy's voice was laced with accusation, his gaze burning into mine with searing intensity.

I felt a surge of defiance rising within me as I squared my shoulders. "It's none of your business," I shot back, my tone sharper than intended, but I refused to back down in the face of his intrusion.

His jaw clenched as he took a step closer, his towering presence casting a shadow over me. "None of my business? You've been documenting our private moments, our struggles! How you also fucked the neighbor?" His voice rose with each word, reverberating off the walls like thunder in a storm “As if that little fucking photo he sent while fucking you, my wife, wasn’t bad enough”.

I could feel my own anger building, fueled by his violation of my privacy. "You have no right to invade my thoughts like this and last I checked, you were the one who started cheating," I retorted, the words dripping with resentment and hurt.

The atmosphere crackled with tension as we stood locked in a battle of wills, neither willing to yield ground. The air grew thick with unspoken accusations and grievances left festering beneath the surface.

"You think you can just hide behind your journal and play the victim?" Teddy's voice was laced with contempt, his eyes boring into mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

My fists clenched at my sides as a surge of defiance coursed through me. "I am not playing anything! This is my way of coping with everything you've put me through, let’s remember who started this mess," I shot back, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside me.

His laugh was harsh and bitter, cutting through the charged atmosphere like a blade. "Coping? Is that what you call it? Writing about how I've destroyed you? This is pretty much a sex book." His words were like daggers aimed straight at my heart.

The room seemed to shrink around us as we faced off in this battle of words and wills. Every breath felt heavy with unspoken truths and buried emotions that threatened to erupt like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

"I trusted you," I whispered hoarsely, tears stinging at the corners of my eyes as the weight of his betrayal bore down on me like a crushing weight.

Teddy's expression softened for a fleeting moment before hardening once more. "Trusted me? Look where that got you," he sneered, a cruel twist to his lips betraying the depths of his callousness.

The walls seemed to close in around us as the fight escalated into a tumultuous storm of emotions and accusations. Each word exchanged felt like a blow to an already fractured foundation that threatened to crumble under the weight of our shared pain.

The rumble of thunder outside echoed the turmoil inside as our voices rose in a crescendo of anger and hurt. The room pulsed with an energy so charged it felt as though lightning might strike at any moment, igniting a fire that would consume us both.

"I'm tired of being your punching bag," I declared, my voice firm with newfound resolve.

Teddy's face contorted with fury. "You think you're innocent in all this?" he shot back, his words like venom dripping from his lips.

The air crackled with electricity as we faced off in a battle neither willing to concede. It was a clash of egos and emotions, each word exchanged fueling the fire burning between us.

"I won't be silenced by your guilt-tripping," I retorted, my voice cutting through the charged atmosphere with precision.

Teddy's eyes blazed with rage as he took a step closer, his breath hot against my skin. "Guilt-tripping? You've been playing the victim since day one," he accused, his voice dripping with contempt.

The room seemed on the verge of imploding as our tempers flared and our voices clashed in a symphony of discord. It was a battle of wills and wounded pride, each unwilling to yield ground in this war of words.

"You'll never own up to your mistakes," I accused, my voice tinged with frustration and anger.

Teddy's fists clenched at his sides as he glared at me with unbridled fury. "Mistakes? You're the one who shattered everything we had, we could’ve come back from this. You didn’t have to fuck the first guy you saw!" he roared, his words echoing off the walls like thunder on a stormy night.

The fight raged on like an unrelenting tempest, each word exchanged adding fuel to the fire burning between us. The air crackled with tension as we stood face to face in a battle that threatened to consume us both.

“You know what? I’m done,” I seethed, my voice rising to a fever pitch. "I'll find a place to stay and it sure as hell won't be here!" My fists clenched at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I glared daggers at the person in front of me. The fury coursing through my body threatened to consume me, but I welcomed it, fueled by sheer determination to escape this toxic environment.

I took a deep breath and tried to steady my shaking hands as I dialed Bella's number, she was the first close friend I had made in London. The phone rang for what felt like hours before she finally picked up.

"Hey, Bella. It's me," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside of me.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

"I need a place to stay for a while. Can I crash with you?" I blurted out, not wanting to beat around the bush.

Bella didn't hesitate. "Of course! What happened?"

"It's a long story," I replied, tears threatening to spill from my eyes again.

"Don't worry about it. Just come over whenever you're ready," she said reassuringly.

I thanked her and hung up the phone before splashing some cold water on my face in an attempt to compose myself. Taking one last look at myself in the mirror, I unlocked the bathroom door and made my way back to the living room.

Teddy was nowhere in sight, probably still seething from our argument. I quickly grabbed my backpack and stuffed some clothes and toiletries inside before heading out the door.

The fresh air outside helped clear my mind as I made my way towards Bella's house. As much as I wanted to stay strong and not let Teddy get to me, his words still stung like open wounds.

I couldn't believe how things had escalated so quickly between us. We used to be inseparable, but now it seemed like we were nothing but strangers living under the same roof.

My thoughts were interrupted as I arrived at Bella's house. She greeted me with open arms and led me inside as Bella and I settled down on her cozy couch, surrounded by the warmth of her living room, she handed me a mug of hot tea. The familiar scent of chamomile filled the air, soothing my frayed nerves.

"So, spill it. What happened between you and Teddy?" Bella asked gently, her eyes reflecting genuine concern.

I took a sip of the tea, feeling its comforting warmth seep into my bones. "It's just... we had another one of those fights about the cheating. The same patterns repeating over and over again. I don't think we can fix this anymore," I admitted, feeling a heavy weight lift off my chest with each word spoken.

Bella nodded knowingly, her empathy palpable. "Sometimes things reach a point where they can't be salvaged, no matter how much we try. It's okay to walk away if it's for your own well-being," she reassured me, her words like a balm to my wounded spirit.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I gazed at my friend, grateful for her unwavering support. "I just feel lost, you know? Like I don't even recognize myself anymore in all of this chaos," I whispered, the vulnerability raw in my voice.

Bella reached out and squeezed my hand reassuringly. "You're not alone in this. You have people who care about you, who want to see you happy and thriving. And remember, sometimes in letting go, we find the strength to rebuild ourselves," she offered with a gentle smile.

Her words resonated deep within me, a glimmer of hope flickering in the darkness that had clouded my heart. I wiped away the tears that had escaped and mustered a small smile in return.

"Thank you, Bella. For everything," I expressed sincerely, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over me for having such a supportive friend by my side.

The early morning light blazed through my window, a stark reminder of the emptiness that awaited me. With a heavy heart, I resolved to find a job, anything to fill the void left by my crumbling marriage. But even as I searched for employment opportunities, my thoughts kept drifting back to Harry. My desperation to know how he was doing gnawed at me like a festering wound, but there was no way to reach out and ask. As I sat in silence, I couldn't help but imagine the different path my life could have taken if I had chosen Harry over Teddy. The image of us together haunted me, a cruel reminder of what could've been. But now it was too late, and there was no turning back from the pain and regret that consumed me.

My fingers danced across the keys of my laptop, typing and retyping cover letters and resumes. The monotony of each hopeful submission echoed the emptiness in my heart, seemingly endless echoes spiraling into a void. To distract myself, I brewed a strong cup of coffee, the familiar smell offering an odd comfort in the chaos that was now my life.

As the day wore on, my efforts bore no fruit. Each potential employer remained a stranger to me, their responses automated and cold. As darkness began to creep into the room, a sense of defeat washed over me and I closed my laptop with a sigh.

I poured myself another cup of coffee, this time opting for the solitude of the balcony to nurse it. The city below shimmered with life just as it always did, indifferent to the turmoil of one seemingly insignificant inhabitant. Despite the layers of concrete and glass that separated us, I felt strangely connected to those anonymous lights - distant beacons in the abyss.

A haunting melody wafted up from somewhere far below, a soulful duet between an old saxophone and an even older piano. The notes danced through the fragmented night air, weaving stories of love lost and found again. Each note was a phantom whispering bittersweet tales into my ear.

Just then, an unexpected sound cut through my thoughts - the shrill ringtone of my phone nudged me back into reality. My heart clenched as I saw Teddy's name flash across the screen. He hadn't called since our fallout; what could he possibly want now? Nervously biting my lip, I answered it. On the other end of the line Teddy’s voice trembled with an emotion I couldn’t quite place; regret perhaps—or was it desperation?

My heart raced as I hung up and blocked Teddy's number. It was a small act of defiance, of reclaiming control over my life. But in that moment, it felt powerful.

I took a deep breath and leaned against the balcony railing, feeling the cold metal press against my cheek. It was a reminder that I was still here, still alive despite the pain and chaos swirling within me.

But even as I tried to convince myself that cutting off all contact with Teddy was for the best, doubts crept into my mind. What if he really did want to talk? What if he wanted to apologize and make things right?

I pushed those thoughts away, refusing to let them cloud my judgement. I couldn't afford to let him back into my life, not when I was finally starting to move on.

With new determination, I went back inside and resumed my job search. As midnight approached and exhaustion began to take hold, I allowed myself a moment of weakness and checked my email one last time.

A spark of hope ignited within me as I read the email from my job recruiter. It informed me that there was a hiring event happening downtown tomorrow and I had been invited to attend. My heart raced with excitement - this could be my chance to finally land a job.

I quickly confirmed my attendance and began mentally preparing for the event. As much as I hated the thought of going out into the world and facing potential rejection, I knew it was something I had to do.

The next morning, after meticulously picking out an outfit and rehearsing what I would say, I set out for downtown. The bustling streets were a chaotic blend of people rushing to work and tourists taking in the sights. As I walked among them, a sense of anonymity washed over me - just another face in the crowd.

Eventually, I reached the building where the hiring event was taking place. After taking a deep breath, I stepped inside and made my way towards the designated area.

The event was packed with job seekers like myself, all eager for a chance at employment. Despite my nerves, I felt emboldened by their determination and pushed forward to talk to employers.

One after another, I introduced myself and handed out resumes with practiced ease. Some showed interest while others dismissed me without a second glance. But instead of feeling defeated by rejection, I soldiered on with renewed purpose.

Hours passed in this manner until finally, just as hope began to wane, someone took notice of me. It was an HR rep from one of the top companies in town, Pleasing.

My heart pounded as I realized this could potentially lead me down the path to seeing Harry again. But I quickly pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the present moment.

The HR rep from Pleasing seemed impressed by my credentials and asked me to come in for an interview the following day. I couldn't believe it - this was exactly the opportunity I had been waiting for.

As I walked out of the hiring event, my mind raced with excitement and nerves. Part of me couldn't help but wonder if Harry still lived in the area, but I quickly shut down that line of thinking. It didn't matter - all that mattered was that I had a chance at a job.

The next day, I arrived at Pleasing's office early, dressed in my best professional attire. The receptionist greeted me with a smile and directed me to the HR department.

I shook myself out of my reverie as the HR rep called me into their office for the interview. Despite my nerves, I answered their questions confidently and highlighted my experience and skills.

As the interview progressed, I could feel the HR rep becoming more and more impressed. The questions became increasingly challenging, but I faced them head-on, demonstrating my knowledge and quick decision-making abilities.

Slowly, the discussion moved on to my potential role in Pleasing and how I saw myself contributing to the company's future. Here, I outlined a comprehensive plan that included innovation, team synergy, and a commitment to meeting corporate objectives. The HR rep listened attentively, occasionally interjecting to clarify or probe deeper into my responses.

The interview concluded on a positive note and I was told that they would get back to me in a week's time. As I left the building, I felt a sense of accomplishment but there was also an underlying excitement - the possibility of crossing paths with Harry and being able to leave Bella’s to find my own flat.

A week passed in a blur of anticipation and anxiety, each day inching closer to the call from Pleasing. When it eventually came through, my heart skipped a beat. They were pleased with my performance during the interview and wanted me on board.

And so began my journey with Pleasing - a journey that was filled with arduous tasks, demanding projects, and incredible opportunities for growth. The work environment was fast-paced but rewarding, pushing me to work harder each day.

One afternoon, a couple of months into my role at Pleasing, I saw him from afar. It was Harry - my former neighbor and one night stand. He looked just as I remembered him: sharp-witted and focused in his tailored suit, there was an air of high authority about him.

My heart raced as I watched him stride through the office, making his way towards the executive level. Memories of our time together flooded back to me - the late nights he spent on top of me, the way he felt, the way he touched me, how he smelt expensive.

Lost in my thoughts, I suddenly realized that I needed to find a way to meet with him. But how? As a junior employee, I didn't have easy access to top executives like him.

Determined not to let this opportunity pass me by, I approached my manager and asked if there was any way I could have a meeting with Mr. Styles. She gave me a skeptical look but promised to see what she could do.

A few days later, she called me into her office with a smile on her face. "I spoke to Mr. Styles' assistant and they have agreed to give you 15 minutes next week," she said excitedly.

My heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing Harry again after all this time. But what would I say? What would he think of me now?

The day of the meeting arrived and I nervously made my way up to the executive level. As soon as I stepped into Mr. Styles' office, my nerves disappeared - it felt like no time had passed between us at all.

As I cautiously entered his dark office, my heart pounded in my chest. The scent of tobacco and whiskey filled the air, mingling with the intense aura emanating from Harry's piercing green eyes. I could feel his gaze burning into me as I made my way to a chair by his desk.

"Y/N," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I saw the name and couldn't believe it was you, bloody hell."

A chill ran down my spine at the iciness in his tone. Memories flooded back of our tumultuous past, the love and betrayal that had torn us apart. But now, standing in front of him again, I couldn't deny the powerful pull that still existed between us.

"Harry," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's been a while."

He leaned back in his chair, studying me with an intensity that made my insides churn. "Indeed it has, Y/N," he remarked, his eyes never leaving mine. "I must say, I never expected to see you here."

I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, feeling the weight of unspoken history hanging between us. "I didn't expect to be here either," I admitted, my voice tinged with a hint of regret.

He raised an eyebrow, a flash of something unreadable crossing his face. "And yet fate has a funny way of bringing people back together, doesn't it?"

I nodded, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me - longing, apprehension, and a spark of unresolved desire. "It seems that way," I said softly.

Harry leaned forward slightly, his expression softening imperceptibly. "Tell me, Y/N," he began, his voice quieter now. "What have you been up to since we last crossed paths?"

I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts amidst the whirlwind of emotions his presence evoked. "Well," I started hesitantly, "I've been working here at Pleasing. It's been challenging but rewarding."

A flicker of interest sparked in his eyes. "Impressive." He paused for a moment before continuing, his tone contemplative. "And what made you seek out a meeting with me today?"

I met his gaze squarely, steeling myself against the vulnerability creeping in. "I wanted to reconnect," I confessed quietly. "To clear the air and maybe... find closure."

Harry regarded me thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again. "Closure," he echoed softly. "Perhaps that's something we both need. And Teddy?"

My eyes drop to the ground, avoiding his penetrating gaze. "It's a messy situation, but I had to leave. I've been crashing at my friend Bella's place until I can scrape together enough money for a divorce."

His voice drips with insinuation and I feel my skin prickle with unease. "Oh, how convenient," he sneers. "I knew eventually you would come to your senses, although I thought our night together would have been enough to break you free." My stomach churns at his words.

The atmosphere in the room grew heavy with unspoken tension as their words hung in the air like charged lightning bolts ready to strike.

"You had no right to think that one night could define me or my decisions." I spat.

Harry's eyes flashed with a mix of surprise and something darker as my words cut through the tension between us. "And what right did you have to enter my life again after all this time, Y/N?" he countered sharply, his jaw clenched in frustration.

I squared my shoulders, meeting his challenging gaze head-on. "I didn't come here seeking your approval, Harry," I retorted, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. "I came for myself, to find closure and move on."

He leaned forward, his expression unreadable as he studied me intently. "Closure," he repeated, the word hanging heavily between us. "Is that truly what you need? Or is there something else driving you here?"

A flicker of vulnerability crossed my features before I could stop it, and I felt exposed under his piercing scrutiny. "Maybe it's both," I admitted quietly, feeling the weight of years of unresolved emotions pressing down on me.

Harry's gaze softened slightly, a hint of understanding creeping into his eyes. "I see," he murmured, a touch of regret coloring his tone. "Perhaps we both have demons to face before we can truly move forward."

I nodded slowly, acknowledging the truth in his words. "Maybe so," I agreed, a sense of resignation settling over me. "But facing them together might be easier than doing it alone."

Silence enveloped us for a moment, broken only by the sound of our breathing mingling in the charged atmosphere of the room. Finally, Harry spoke again, his voice softer now. "I never stopped thinking about you, Y/N," he confessed quietly. "Despite everything that happened between us."

My heart clenched at his words, memories flooding back with a force that left me breathless. "I never forgot you either," I whispered, a bittersweet ache settling in my chest.

A myriad of emotions played across Harry's features - longing, regret, and something else I couldn't quite decipher. "Then perhaps we owe it to ourselves to confront the past and see where it leads us, Pleasing has a nice legal plan I can lend to you for a divorce." he suggested tentatively.

I met his gaze, seeing a glimmer of hope reflected in those intense green eyes that had once been my undoing. "Maybe we do," I agreed softly, a sense of anticipation stirring within me.

I stood outside the courtroom, my heart racing with a mix of nerves and anticipation. Today was the day I had been waiting for - the day I could finally end this marriage and start a new chapter in my life. But as I took a deep breath and stepped inside, my eyes were immediately drawn to the sight of Teddy sitting at a table with his lawyer, confidently flipping through some papers.

Next to him sat Rosie, her perfectly styled hair and expensive outfit standing out like a sore thumb among the drab courtroom surroundings. She smiled smugly in my direction as if she knew something I didn't, and suddenly all my confidence wavered.

My lawyer squeezed my hand reassuringly as we walked towards our side of the court, but I couldn't help feeling like an underdog in this battle. How had Teddy managed to go back to Rosie so quickly while still begging for me just a few weeks earlier? And how long had this been going on?

As we began the proceedings, I listened half-heartedly as their lawyer presented their case - painting me as an unfit wife who refused to support her husband's successful career. The lies stung, but I held back from speaking out.

It wasn't until it was my turn to speak that I found my voice. My lawyer had prepared a strong case for me - highlighting all of Teddy's infidelities and emotional abuse throughout our marriage. As I spoke about his controlling behavior and manipulation tactics, Rosie's smug expression faltered.

But when it was time for Teddy to speak, he denied everything with such conviction that even I started doubting myself. His words were smooth and calculated, painting me as an unstable woman who couldn't handle his success.

I felt my anger bubbling up inside me - how dare he twist the truth like this? But before I could say anything, Rosie jumped in with her own version of events. She talked about how supportive Teddy had been during their brief affair, and how I was just a jealous ex who couldn't move on.

As Rosie spoke, her words felt like sharp knives twisting in my chest. The betrayal and deceit were too much to bear, she was the one who was sleeping with my husband. I clenched my fists, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. But then, a familiar voice cut through the tense atmosphere.

"Objection, Your Honor!"

I turned to see my lawyer standing up, his expression firm and determined. "These allegations are baseless and unsubstantiated. My client has provided ample evidence of Mr. Teddy's infidelity and emotional abuse. I request that these false claims be stricken from the record."

The judge nodded solemnly, looking at Teddy and Rosie with a steely gaze. "I will not tolerate false accusations in my courtroom. Stick to the facts."

Teddy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. Rosie, on the other hand, remained composed, a smug smile playing on her lips.

"I have evidence that will prove my client's case, Your Honor," she declared confidently. "I request permission to present it."

The judge nodded again, signaling for Rosie to proceed. She stood up gracefully, producing a stack of papers from her briefcase.

"These documents show that Mr. Teddy was out of town on the dates in question," she began, flipping through the pages with ease. "He could not have been at the locations alleged by Mrs. Y/N."

I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Could it be true? Had I been mistaken all along? Her proof was just texts from Teddy to her saying he was out of town. Which proves nothing, if anything it was more incriminating.

But then, just as doubt started to creep in, a sudden realization hit me like a bolt of lightning.

"Your Honor," I interrupted, my voice trembling but resolute. "I have proof that Mr. Teddy and Ms. Rosie colluded to fabricate alibis and deceive me. They were working together against me all along."

The courtroom fell into stunned silence as I presented the evidence that exposed their treachery. Teddy's face drained of color, while Rosie's mask of composure finally cracked.

"I-I can explain," Teddy stammered, but it was too late.

The judge slammed his gavel down with finality. "Case closed. Divorce granted in favor of Mrs. Y/N. You are to pay her a monthly settlement of alimony."

As I walked out of the courtroom, a weight lifted off my shoulders. It was finally over - the lies, the betrayal, the manipulation. I could start anew with a sense of freedom and clarity.

And as I glanced back one last time at Teddy and Rosie, their faces twisted with defeat, I knew that justice had been served.

Waiting outside of the courtroom was Harry with a grin, he did a sassy wave to Rosie and Teddy.

"Congratulations, Y/N," Harry said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and kissing the top of my forehead. "You did it."

I couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of relief and satisfaction wash over me. "I couldn't have done it without you, Harry. Thank you for everything."

"Always, love," he replied with a gentle smile.

As we walked out of the courthouse hand in hand, I couldn't help but feel grateful for having Harry by my side.

"I'm so glad this is all over," I said with a sigh, leaning into him as we reached his car.

"Yeah, me too," he agreed, unlocking the door and helping me inside before making his way to the driver's seat.

As we drove away from the courthouse, I couldn't help but feel a sense of closure. My marriage may have ended in betrayal and deceit but now I was free to move on and start over.

"So what's next for you?" Harry asked as we drove through the city streets.

“ I think we should celebrate.” I looked at him with a playful smile.

"Celebrate?" Harry raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "And what did you have in mind for this celebration, Mrs. Y/N?"

I grinned mischievously, leaning over to gently tap his knee. "Oh, nothing too wild. Maybe just a quiet dinner for two at a cozy little bistro."

"A quiet dinner, hmm?" Harry's smirk grew wider. "And what about later, when we're no longer 'quiet'? Any ideas for that celebration?"

"Well," I purred, eyeing him up and down playfully. "That all depends on how good of a date you turn out to be."

"I'll have you know," he countered confidently, "that I'm an excellent date."

"Oh really? And what sort of things do excellent dates do to impress their partners?" I challenged him with a teasing glint in my eye.

Harry chuckled softly before leaning closer to me. "I believe the key to impressing you, love," he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine, "lies somewhere between your pasta and your dessert."

"And exactly how do you plan on pulling that off?" I asked skeptically but with undeniable curiosity piqued within me.

"Oh," he smirked wickedly as he brushed a strand of hair away from my face. "I'm sure I can come up with something...tasty."

We arrived at the bistro and Harry led me inside, his hand resting on my lower back. The smell of freshly baked bread and spices filled my nostrils as we were greeted by the friendly hostess. She guided us to a cozy booth in the corner of the restaurant before handing us each a menu.

As we perused through the options, I couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment with Harry. Despite the chaos that had been my life recently, he was there to make me smile and forget about all my worries. I was grateful to be able to be like this with him.

"You know," Harry said, breaking the comfortable silence between us, "I haven't had a proper date night in ages."

I smiled at him. Soon after the waiter came to take our orders and after much deliberation, we settled on sharing a few appetizers and ordering our own entrees. As we waited for our food to arrive, Harry reached across the table to take hold of my hand.

"I'm proud of you," he said sincerely, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "You handled everything with grace and strength."

I felt tears welling up in my eyes at his words. It meant so much to have Harry's support and encouragement through everything I had been going through.

"Thank you," I replied softly, unable to find any other words to express how much his words meant to me.

Our food arrived shortly after and we dug into our dishes with enthusiasm. We laughed and joked as we shared bites of each other's meals, savoring every moment together.

After dinner, Harry insisted on treating me to dessert at a nearby ice cream shop. We walked through the bustling streets hand in hand, enjoying each other's company in the warm summer night.

As we sat on a bench outside the shop, enjoying our ice cream.

My voice trembles as I stare at Harry, regret and guilt weighing heavily on my chest. "I should've left Teddy that night after the motel," I confess, tears welling up in my eyes. "But I was scared. Scared of losing my residency, scared of facing my family's disappointment. I thought I could endure it for a while longer, or that he would be the one to leave first." My words choke in my throat, coming out as a desperate plea for forgiveness.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," I continue, my voice shaking. "I never meant to hurt you or lead you on. I was just...lost and confused."

Harry's expression softens as he takes in my words. He reaches out to brush away a tear that falls from my eye.

"You don't have to apologize, love," he says gently. "I understand why you stayed with him. But I wish you had told me sooner."

The guilt bubbles up inside of me, threatening to drown me in its heavy weight. How could I have been so blind and selfish? How could I have hurt someone who cared?

"I'll make it right, Harry," I promise him, wiping away the tears from my cheeks.

Harry's eyes light up with hope as he grasps my hand tightly.

"We'll face this together," he says firmly, determination evident in his voice.

And just like that, the burden on my shoulders feels a little bit lighter knowing that I have Harry by my side.

"It's okay," he whispers soothingly, kissing the top of my head. "You did the right thing.”

We finish our ice cream in comfortable silence before heading back to Harry's flat.

"Can I ask you something?" I say, breaking the silence.

"Of course," Harry replies, squeezing my hand reassuringly.

"Why did you never tell me your feelings before?" I ask, feeling a little hesitant.

Harry pauses for a moment before answering. "I didn't want to pressure you or make things awkward between us," he admits. "I wanted you to be happy and if that meant staying with Teddy, then I accepted it. So I left, I couldn’t see you in that situation."

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I realize just how selfless and understanding Harry has always been despite his hardened appearence. He truly cares.

"I'm sorry for being so blind," I say softly.

"It's okay," Harry reassures me. "We all make mistakes."

My heart was pounding as we entered the safety of his flat, my senses heightened by the lingering scent of his cologne. Our fingers traced each other's as he deftly made two cups of steaming tea, every touch sending sparks dancing up my arm.

"Would you like a touch of cream?" Harry asked seductively, a teasing smile playing along his lips. His sultry voice sent trepidating waves through me, igniting an insatiable desire that twisted in my belly.

The sight of him leaning casually against the kitchen counter, bathed in soft light, stirred a primal need within me. I watched as he poured a dash of cream into my cup. The way it swirled and mingled with the dark liquid mirrored our own dance - two intricate beings melding to form something far more tantalizing.

"Thank you," I murmured, accepting the warm mug from his hand. My fingers brushed against his, eliciting a delicate shiver that rippled down my spine. "I couldn't have asked for anyone better..."

As we navigated our way towards the plush sofa, our bodies brushed together, the heat between us flaring like a bonfire on a cold night. The taste of our shared dinner still lingered on our tongues as we sipped on our teas; notes of cocoa and warm spices cascading over our taste buds.

He leaned back onto the couch, pulling me with him until I was nestled comfortably against his side. A silence fell upon us as we enjoyed our drinks; comfortable and yet teeming with an unspoken promise of what was to come.

"There's no rush," Harry purred into my ear, allowing his fingers to trace lazy circles around my wrist. His hot breath fanned out across my heated skin, setting off tremors beneath my flesh. "Let's just enjoy this moment."

His words washed over me like scalding water, igniting a yearning that threatened to consume us both. I finished my tea swiftly, setting the empty cup on the coffee table before turning back to Harry.

"Harry," I breathed out, staring into his deep emerald eyes. They were dark with desire, a mirror of my own want. "I want you...now."

With those words, our evening took on an entirely new flavor - one more intimate and fervently carnal than the most decadent dessert. And as I let go of all inhibitions and allowed myself to drown in Harry's love- the guilt and fear felt like distant memories.

Where there had been tears earlier now blossomed laughter and sighs of pleasure, echoing off the walls of Harry's flat. The heat between us couldn't be contained within mere cups of tea. It was a passionate flame that ignited every sense, searing through every inch of our bodies as we began to explore each other with newfound fervor and desperation.

The room seemed to shrink as my words echoed around us. I could feel myself growing wetter by the second, my heart pounding in anticipation of what was to come. Without another word, he stood up and pulled me close, our bodies pressing tightly against each other.

My hands found their way to his strong shoulders, digging into his skin as he claimed my lips once more. I moaned deeply into the kiss, tasting the tea we just drank on his tongue as he explored every inch of my mouth. His hands traveled down my back, over my ass cheeks, until they reached the hem of my dress.

I gasped as he lifted me off the ground with ease, carrying me towards the bedroom. My legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him closer still. As we entered the room he kicked the door shut behind us, locking us in together.

As he backed me towards the bed, his cock growing hard, he paused to look down at me. His eyes dark and hungry as he took in the scene laid out before him. "You look so fucking sexy like this," he growled out, his voice rough with desire. I moaned in response, my fingers curling into the sheets beneath us as he lowered me onto the mattress.

His lips trailed hot kisses down my jawline and across my collarbone before moving southward. He nipped at my sensitive flesh while his hands explored every inch of my body, tracing patterns around my tits through the lace fabric of my bra. My breath hitched as his warm mouth hovered over my nipples, making them stand at attention.

"Please," I whispered, arching into him as he teased one of my hardened nubs between his fingers and thumb. His tongue circled around it before finally drawing it into his mouth, sucking on it with such force that I cried out in pleasure.

He pulled away slightly, looking down at me with a smirk that made my stomach do flips. "I'm going to fuck you so good, baby girl." His eyes bore into mine as he slowly undid his pants, revealing his already hard cock straining against his boxers. My mouth watered at the sight of him; all 8 inches of thickness glistening with pre-cum that reflected the light in the room.

I reached up to grab his shirt, pulling him down towards me as I wrapped my legs around his waist again. He groaned into the kiss, deepening it as he lowered himself onto the bed between my spread legs. His teeth grazed against my bottom lip before trailing hot kisses down my neck and chest.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath as he reached behind me to undo the clasp holding together my bra. It fell away from me revealing puckered nipples begging for attention which he eagerly obliged by taking one into his mouth while pinching the other between two fingers causing tiny whimpers to escape from deep within me.

His lips trailed down my stomach, stopping momentarily to press kisses to my belly button before continuing their journey south. I shivered with anticipation as his fingers hooked into the sides of my lace panties, pulling them down and off of me in one swift motion.

He took a moment to admire me, spread out before him, completely exposed and vulnerable. His gaze traveled over every inch of me, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, before diving back in between my legs. His tongue flicked against my clit sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. I gripped onto the sheets tighter as he continued to tease and lick at my most sensitive spot.

I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, his expert mouth bringing me to the brink. Just when I thought I couldn't take it any longer, he pulled away with a smirk on his face.

"Not yet," he said huskily, crawling back up towards me. He kissed me hard on the lips while positioning himself between my legs. I felt his tip brush against my entrance and I lifted my hips in response.

The room around us was hazy from the scent of our arousal, and I couldn't help but feel like I was in a dream as he continued to tease me. With every lick and nip, his touch sent shockwaves of pleasure through me. My body arched off the bed in response to his expert ministrations, my breasts pressed against his strong chest.

"You taste so fucking good," he groaned, his voice dark and rough with need. His hands slid up my thighs, teasingly close to my aching desire before moving away again. It was driving me crazy!

"Please," I begged him. "I can't take much more."

He chuckled deep in his throat, the sound sending shivers down my spine. "Oh, you think you can handle me?" He leaned down and flicked his tongue gently over my clitoris again, making me gasp in surprise at the intense sensation. "We'll see about that."

I couldn't believe how turned on I was by his dominance. As he continued to tease me, I imagined what it would be like to fully submit to him—to let him take control of my body and pleasure me however he saw fit. It was terrifying yet exhilarating all at once.

It felt like hours (or maybe just minutes?) before he finally eased himself into me, filling me up with his thick cock. I gasped at the sudden intrusion but moaned in delight as he began to move slowly inside me. Every thrust sent violent shudders through my body as we found our rhythm together—his hard and demanding possessions; mine willingly given submission underneath him amidst silk pillows and warm blankets scattered across the sheets beneath us.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into me, wanting more, needing more. His hands gripped onto my hips, holding me in place as he continued to thrust into me with increasing speed and force.

I could feel the pleasure building inside of me, growing and swelling until it was almost unbearable. My nails dug into his back as I cried out his name, consumed by the intensity of our union.

He leaned down and captured my lips in a fiery kiss that only added fuel to the fire burning between us. Our bodies moved together in perfect synchronization, reaching higher levels of ecstasy with each passing moment.

The bed rocked beneath us as we gave into pure primal desire. He was an unstoppable force, taking everything from me and giving it back tenfold.

"Fuck," he groaned against my lips, his voice thick with need. "You're so tight."

"Oh, God," I moaned, my toes curling against the sheets. "Don't stop."

He didn't listen to me of course; instead, he continued to pound into me relentlessly, driving me towards the edge again and again until I couldn't take it anymore. My orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave, consuming every ounce of my being and leaving me shaking in its wake. He followed close behind with a muffled groan as he spilled himself inside of me. He collapsed on top of me, both of us gasping for breath as we came down from our high.

We lay there tangled together for a few moments before he rolled off of me onto his side. He pulled me against him, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist.

"Wow," I finally managed to say.

We lay there panting for several minutes afterward, our heartbeats echoing in our ears above everything else around us.

Finally, he disentangled himself from me and collapsed next to me on the bed, both of us spent and covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Fuck," he breathed out as he ran a hand through his damp hair.

"That was..." I trailed off unable to find the words to describe the intensity of our union.

He let out a bitter, exhausted chuckle laced with satisfaction. "I swore I'd never marry again, but if this is what life could be like on a regular basis, I may have to reconsider," he muttered through gritted teeth. The thought of committing himself again brought a surge of both fear and longing, but for the first time in years, he felt alive.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the landscape, he turned to me with a mix of vulnerability and determination in his eyes. "I never thought I'd find someone who could make me question my own convictions," he said softly, reaching out to gently touch my hand.

I looked back at him, her own eyes filled with understanding and a hint of mischief. "Maybe it's time to rewrite those old promises," I suggested, a smile playing on my lips.

A sense of peace settled over him as he realized that maybe, just maybe, he was ready to take a chance on love once more. With a hopeful heart and a newfound sense of purpose, he whispered, "Maybe it is."

As the last rays of sunlight slipped beneath the horizon, their eyes locked and they both felt an electric current surge through their bodies. It was a sign that their journey together was just starting and would be filled with endless twists and turns, but they were ready for the challenge.

372 notes · View notes

shixcherie · 1 month ago

Text

Oh Ma Chérie | Jeong Yunho ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 16 : Dacryphilia/ Tears Kink

↬ [ Synopsis ] : Yunho loves your doll-like eyes filled with tears, and you decide to give him exactly that, knowing it drives him wild. You were supposed to catch up after two years, but all you could catch was your breath with his long, thick cock in your mouth.

☆Word Count : 2.3k ☆Genre : Smut,Non-Idol Au. ☆Pairing : Neighbor! Yunho x F.reader

☆☆☆ WARNINGS : Pure smut (18+), dacryphilia/ tears kink, your tears turns him on (a lot!), edging/ overstimulation, fingering (fem recieving) , praise, banter-ish teasing, oral (m.recieving) , sexy neighbour Yunho, friendly sexual encounters, switch reader, pet names (baby, chérie, pretty girl), dirty talk (he calls you slut once) {lemme know if I missed it }

NOTE : Grinding hard to catchup my loves as my exams had a chokehold on me and I couldn't continue but DAY 16 is here and I am back **with my favie Yunho . Hope you enjoyit ma cheries.

Yunho loved you so much. Not a speck of doubt in that. He loved you so much that even when you cried, it turned him on, making him hot all over, the heat going straight to his throbbing cock in his pants. There was always this thick tension when the two of you were in each other’s vicinity, and with your friends constantly shipping you both and you both being neighbors, it definitely enabled a lot when you wanted to... explore stuff, let's say.

You both had actually dated for a year before ending it because you both got bored. It wasn’t serious,no doubt you had fun, a lot actually, but you both felt like exploring other options. There was nothing wrong with that and you would still be friends. Not hard feelings at all.

And after that, you moved to Paris.

You moving away was never part of the plan. It was sudden, and let’s just say love makes you do all things stupid and it did to you too. The whole reason you moved to Paris was just to be with your boyfriend at that time. But coming back now, nothing has changed. At all. Yunho is still your neighbor, still single, and still fucking hot.

You just returned from Paris after two years, and nothing has changed in the neighborhood. This place, where you grew up, holds the best childhood memories. Your first love, first kiss, first fuck and Yunho happened to be a huge part of all your firsts.

After visiting all your friends, you decided to finally pay Yunho a visit, which was kinda ironic since his house was right next to yours. But the logic behind it ? To save the best for last. Hehe.

You were supposed to just say hi, talk a bit, maybe catch up, and then come back home safe and sound. Ending up on his lap, with his long, sexy fingers stuffed deep inside you, curling and making a mess of you, was definitely not part of the plan.

"Yunho… ahh… yesss, fuck! Feels so good." you murmered, pretty moans ringing in his ears as you leaned back against his chest, head resting on his shoulder, while he whispered the filthiest things in your ear. His hot breath tickled your skin, and it finally felt like you were truly back home.

"You like that, baby? So tight, yet so inviting for me, just like I remember" Yunho whispered, his thumb rubbing your clit, making your toes curl with the delicious sensations. "No matter where you go, you always come back to me. Are you that obsessed with me, pretty girl?" he teased, your moans answering him.

"Well, no one can make me feel the way you do." you gasped. Yunho chuckled as he slid another finger inside you, stretching you even more. The sensation was a mix of pleasure and pain as tears brimmed in your eyes. A whimper left your throat, going straight to Yunho’s hard cock, forming a tent under your tiny hand.

Your hand went straight to rubbing his hardness, encouraging Yunho as his fingers worked your dripping cunt, moving in and out, curling, hitting all the right spots. Your vision was slowly going blank, stars starting to appear. Your body trembled under his relentless pace, lips parted, gasping as tears began to flow down your cheeks.

“Ma chérie, est-ce que ça te fait du bien ? (Ma chérie, does that feel good?) ” Yunho spoke, in french..? Damn! he sounded fucking hot speaking french that had you gasp from not only just pleasure but shock. You bit you bottom lip hard as a loud cry threatened to escape at the sheer intensity of the moment.

When did he learn french ? Did he miss you that much ? Oh baby!

“Mon dieu… tu es le meilleur ! (Oh my god… you’re the best) ”you cried, literally as your cheeks flushed adorning a red blush, a sight Yunho was dying to see. Slowly pulling his fingers out of you, to which obviouly whimpered at the sudden loss of contact, he slowly turned you on his lap, you now facing him.

What he saw was a sight he wanted engraved into his memory forever, an iconic picture he'd frame and plaster all over his bedroom walls. Your glossy eyes, tear-streaked cheeks, and plump, bitten lips, looking all flushed and angelic made it impossible for him to think straight. Lust crashed over him like a fucking tornado, leaving only one clear thought in his mind. He wanted you. Right now.

He scoffed at himself, watching you looking like a doll with glossy eyes staring at him, waiting for his next move. Slowly, he slid his fingers covered with your slick into his mouth, an mhmm vibrating through him while swirling his tongue around them while your mouth watered at the sight. You took a heavy breath, and without speaking, reached out, pulling his fingers from his mouth before taking a long, slow lick along his spit-covered digits, tasting both him and yourself. He swallowed hard, the touch of your soft tongue flipping a switch in his brain.

Groaning, he said, "Take them baby, into your mouth.”

You obeyed instantly, sliding three of his long digits into your mouth. Yunho groaned, his eyes closing as a chorus of "fucks" escaped his lips as he could fell the back of your throat at his fingertips . He leaned against the couch, all comfortable while your tongue swirled around, moving his hand back and forth, gifting him the pleasure he'd been missing for two long years.

An invisible magnetic pull always drew you back together, no matter how far you wandered off or with whom.

You pulled his fingers out with a "plop," lips trailing them, leaving a glistening line of your own spit as you gazed up at him through your lashes. His breath hitched, eyes heavy with lust as he bit down on his bottom lip, the sight of you making him look almost wrecked and fucked out and you hadn’t even really started.

“What do you want next, baby?” you teased, voice sultry, your doll-like eyes gleaming with a mix of innocence and heat.

Yunho exhaled a low growl, his eyes narrowing in that commanding, intense way that made your stomach flip. He brought his hand to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair, pulling you closer. "You know exactly what I want, doll," he whispered, his breath hot against your lips, teasingly close but not kissing you yet. "I want you to take all of me, just like you used to."

The anticipation thick in the air as you leaned closer, feeling the heat radiating from his body. Your heart raced, each thump enveloped you both. Yunho’s grip tightened slightly, a mix of dominance and longing as he searched your gaze, as if asking for permission, though you both knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

You nodded, a playful smirk dancing on your lips as you stole a quick from his lips and slowly sank to your knees, the plush carpet beneath you feeling soft and grounding. Your fingers traced the outline of his pants, teasingly drawing near to the bulge that tented the fabric. His breath quickened, and you could see the struggle on his face as he fought to maintain control.

“Eager, aren’t you?” he teased, a smirk playing on his lips as he tilted his head back, exposing the long line of his neck. It was your turn to take charge, to show him just how much you missed him.

“Only for you, Yunho.” you replied softly, your voice low and dripping with desire. You glanced up at him, locking eyes, and began to unbutton his pants, each click sounding like a countdown. When you finally pulled down his zipper, his gaze darkened filled with an intoxicating desire.

As you slid your hands inside, your fingers brushing against the fabric of his boxers, he let out a low groan that sent shivers through you. You paused, meeting his eyes with a sultry smile, and watched as the tension in his jaw tightened.

Recovering quickly he commanded, “Now, be a good girl and show me just how much you missed this.” his voice low and a bit impatient, and you couldn’t help but comply, feeling the magnetic pull between you grow stronger as you surrendered to his desires.

You chuckled softly and finally freed him from his confines, your breath hitching at the sight. He was just as you remembered. Long, thick, rock hard and totally ready for you.

Yunho’s eyes darkened further as you wrapped your fingers around him, stroking slowly, feeling the way he pulsed in your hand. “God, you’re perfect.” he groaned, his head falling back as he savored the pleasure you were giving him.

“We were perfect. Still are.” you whispered , leaning in to press soft kisses along his thigh, igniting a fire in him. The memories of shared kisses, whispered secrets, and tangled bodies flooded back, reminding you both of the connection you had once shared.

“I want to feel everything.” he urged, his voice thick with desire.

With a mischievous grin, you looked up at him one last time before taking him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip, savoring the moment. Yunho let out a deep groan, the sound sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

As you began to move, the tension between you only grew as you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming sensations, the sweet pressure, the intensity of the moment, and the sheer joy of being back with him. The tears slipped down your cheeks, glistening and mixing with the lust that filled the air.

Yunho’s breath hitched at the sight, his eyes darkening even more with desire. “Doll, you’re too beautiful.” he murmured, his voice thick with arousal. “Those tears… they drive me insane.”

You looked up at him, your doll-like eyes glistening and he swallowed hard, the sight of you only fueling his need. The tears made him feel powerful, igniting a primal instinct deep within him, guiding his actions as he leaned forward, his hands tangling in your hair.

“Just like that.” he urged, his voice a low growl, as he guided your movements, pushing you further down his length. The combination of your soft whimpers and the tears flowing down your face drove him wild, making his heart race.

“Look at you,” he teased, a wicked smirk playing on his lips as he watched your eyes well up with more tears. “So pretty and helpless, all for me. You really have no idea how much I have missed this for the past two years.” His grip tightened in your hair, forcing you to take him deeper, the salty taste of your tears mixing with the pleasure that overwhelmed him.

As you bobbed your head, your soft whimpers turned into muffled cries, each movement sending electric shocks through his body. The sight of you, desperate and wanting, only pushed him further over the edge. “You’re such a good little slut, aren’t you? Crying and taking it all like you’ve missed me so fucking much.” he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. “ Did you miss me ? Did you remember me when he fucked you when you were in Paris ?”

You moan as a response to his question only made him thrust his hips up, the force of him filling your mouth pushing you closer to your breaking point as you could feel him twitching inside your mouth.

“Just like that, baby. Let those tears flow for me. Show me how much you want it.” he whispered, his tone teasing but with an edge of seriousness that made your stomach flip. The need in his voice only fueled your desperation with tears spilling down your cheeks.

“God, you’re so beautiful like this.” he breathed, his voice strained as he watched you. “You don’t even realize how perfect you are when you’re crying for me.” Each word dripped with a sultry dominance, making you want to please him even more.

As you pushed through the intensity, you felt his grip tighten even more, his breathing growing heavier. “I’m so close, baby. Just a little more.” he groaned, his eyes dark with lust. The desperation in your teary eyes only made him want to tease you further. “You want to taste me, don’t you? Go on, beg for it.”

The heat between you intensified as you nodded, a choked sob escaping your lips. “Please, Y-Yunho… I need it.”

“Such a good girl.” he praised, and with that, he finally cummed hard in your mouth. His release filled your mouth, and the taste sent a shock of satisfaction through you along with nostalgia. You swallowed the entirety of his hot cum, relishing each drop and licking your upper lip as you held eye contact with him, smirking at him.

“Hah! You missed me so much.” he teased, a brow cocked up as he watched your tears mix with the remnants of his pleasure on your face.

“Is that what you call it ? I’d say it’s more like you’ve been deprived.” you shot back, your voice playful as your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh really? Who was being a cry baby few seconds ago, all teary-eyed and wanting more.”

“Oh ? And who was begging me to not stop ?” you taunted back, wiping away the tears as a sweet grin appeared on your face. “Anyways, I’m just here for the show. Don’t let that get to your head, superstar.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. “Superstar, huh? Well, I guess I’ll have to give you an encore, then. Let’s see how many times you can make those pretty eyes tear up for me.”

You both paused for a moment before bursting into laughter. Oh god, you missed this so much. This was exactly what pulled you back to Yunho. Not just the sex, but the whole vibe of it. His energy matched yours at every level.

Both of you had missed every moment of this deliciously sinful connection.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

Disclaimer : This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

128 notes · View notes

romana-after-dark · 10 months ago

Text

Dead Dove December 2023 Masterlist

Hello everyone!

So sorry it took forever to get this out, but it took me 5ever to read through these fics bc I was expresso depresso and working a lot LMFAOOOOOOO

Anyway, THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR EVERYONE ENTRIES!!! I adore you so so so so much. I am SO HAPPY with how this worked out and the amount of response! I hope to hold another event this March with @for-a-longlongtime at @triplefrontier-anniversary for the TF anniversary over at my main account @romanarose, and an event in June for pride, so if those interest you, follow my main page or this one, or @romana-updates

NOTE: I was unorganized so if I forgot someone's fic, IT WAS NOT ON PURPOSE. I know right now there discourse right now the Pedro fandom specifically, about different people not liking others or small writers or big writers ETC, but I want you to know no one was left out on purpose!

Note 2: If I put your fic here but forgot to reblog LET ME KNOW! I want to make sure everyone gets a chance to shine.

Without further ado, the fics and art!

ALL OF THESE ARE DARK SO SOME DEGREE FROM CNC, DUB CON, TO VIOLENT NON CON! HEAD WARNINGS!

The Last of Us

The Burglary by @aurorawritestoescape and @milla-frenchy: Two men break into your house and take more than just your valuables.

Fight Club by @anama-cara : Post outbreak set in the Boston QZ. You decide to go against Joel in an underground QZ fight club for some extra coin. Joel doesn't take kindly to the competition and decides to punish you in his own special way.

Deja Vu by @milla-frenchy : After a bad experience with a former boyfriend, you meet Joel who makes you trust him fully in the bedroom

Silent Night by @kewwrites : Despite the way he always acted around you, you find it hard to say no to Sarah when she invites you home to her dad's house for the holidays. Surely nothing would happen while she's with you.

Training Day by @koshkamartell : Set in AU, no outbreak. You get more than you bargained for after trying to make Joel jealous.

Code Broken by @auteurdelabre : You only wanted to pull a silly prank on your neighbor, Joel. Who could have seen it ending up like this?

The Art of Breaking by @corazondebeskar-reads : Your meeting is happenstance, but everything that follows? Well, that’s all Joel. He just knows you’re going to be his perfect little toy. He just has to show you how.

Cry Harder by @romana-after-dark : While keeping you captive, Joel's sex drive is insatiable, and the sex seemed to be never ending. You tried to warm him you needed to use the bathroom... he didn't listen.

Nightmare Before Christmas by @katiexpunk : As an escort, you’ve found yourself in some pretty fucked up situations before. Years of experience have taught you to navigate such situations with a combination of tact and assertiveness. Most of the time the men who exude an air of sleaze shrivel back into the corner, embarrassed and limp dicked. Most of the time. Tonight is not one of those times.

Locket by @toxicanonymity : Dark!Reader dugs her friends hot dad Joel

Run, Rabbit by @justagalwhowrites : It was just over a year after the world ended that you were captured by Joel and Tommy Miller. They're harsh, they're cold and they're killers. But, as a nurse, you're a valuable person to have around and they're not the worst thing wandering the wasteland that was the United States. And there might be more to these men than meets the eye.

Godless by @javier-penas-wifexx420 : You work at a brothel that operates above a saloon in your town. Joel is the leader of a group of outlaws that come periodically to collect payment and wreak havoc. One visit, you catch Joel’s eye and he decides he has to have you.

Across the Spiderverse

After Dark by @runa-falls : He wants you. and he knows you need him.

Triple Frontier

Deep Seeded Issues by @djarinmuse: Summary: At an N.A (narcotics anonymous) meeting you recall a dark and embarrassing memory, not knowing the connection in the room.

My Blood Would Teach Me How to Love by @winniethewife : Santi finds you self harming, blood kink ensues.

Room's on Fire by @romana-after-dark : Cult AU, Pope, Frankie, Will and Ben are cult leaders and need a virgin to breed who will birth the savior: the Madonna. Initially honored to find redemption, the Madonna has to learn how to navigate all four men and a circle of other people at the house.

Goodnight, Princess by @melodygatesauthor : Your dad's best friend accidentally discovers that you're a sex worker. He tries to let it go, but it eats away at him until things go way too far.

The Card Counter

Bad Bet by @boredzillenial and art by @lunar-ghoulie4art : William beats you in a poker tournament, but you just can’t accept defeat, not yet…

Getting Whats Mine by @winniethewife

Lightening Face

Puppy by @darkuselesssomebody : In which the reader is a manipulative bitch - and basil snaps because of it

Mojave

Cruel Intentions by @hon3yboy : You're on a soul seeking journey, just another young, pretty, thing. All alone and stranded in the desert, ripe for the picking and ol' Jack has his eyes set on you.

Moon Kight

Death to Dignity by @juneknight : An intruder (Marc) breaks in to your apartment.

*************

I cannot thank you enough for your support and interaction for htis series!!!!! I had SUCH a good time reading all these, you are all so talented!!!

I hope to do more events soon as it's really helped me make some friends and get to know people here!!!!

Please remember to reblog these authors, and if you're tagged here, be sure to check out more! Lots of great content here!

438 notes · View notes

mimikyu-oli · 9 days ago

Text

Jeremy Viceroy

I pretty much love all of them.

Ann's older brother.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf au #oc #Memories of the Neighbor's House au #MotNH au #Jeremy Viceroy #Sorry. It's not your Jeremy Archeic Angel #😓

17 notes · View notes

forlix · 1 year ago

Text

‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬

— eight winter-themed fics for each member of stray kids written by myself (@forlix) and my sahar (@astraystayyh)! alternatively titled dead dick december lmfaooo

— important notes :

6/8 completed; last updated 3/19/24

no specific holidays are mentioned by name

gendered pronouns used only in chan's, minho's, and han's fics

minors & ageless blogs please dni w/ han's fic as it is nsfw

fics will be posted between dec. 2023 and mar. 2024

. . . also, we will be opening a taglist for this series! send me or sahar an ask or reply to either of our masterlists if you'd like to be added ♡ (minors and ageless blogs will not be tagged in han's)

pieces of you・bang chan・@astraystayyh・8.7k ⤷ single dad!chan, neighbors!au, fluff, angst, slow burn. posted 2/12/24.

in which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. alternatively, chan and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's suddenly no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

something has melted・lee minho・@forlix ⤷ spy x family!au, fake dating!au, fluff

your obnoxious coworkers never get off your ass about how single you are, and your temporary husband is too happy to make them eat their words.

burning in the winter wind・seo changbin・@astraystayyh・4.4k ⤷ (fake) enemies to lovers, college!au, hurt/comfort. posted 2/26/24.

sustaining an ankle injury during a ski retreat isn't fun. especially when seo changbin volunteers to stay back to tend to you—the one man you can never get a read on.

the snow falls, we fall apart・hwang hyunjin・@astraystayyh ⤷ roommates!au, friends to lovers, slow burn, hurt/comfort. posted 3/19/24.

when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.

(18+) empty my mind・han jisung・@forlix・6.4k ⤷ friends with benefits to lovers, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort. posted 1/6/24.

stars flare brightest in the absence of light, and you see his clearer than day.

everything has changed (besides myself)・lee felix・@forlix・5.4k ⤷ babysitter!au, exes to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. posted 12/9/23.

you spend three years loving him, six months losing him, and four hours waiting for him to get the hell out of your house. but the human heart is more stubborn than you know.

warm winter・kim seungmin・@forlix ⤷ established relationship, hurt/comfort, fluff

"i don't deserve you," he breathes, "but god, i want to."

please fall before i fall・yang jeongin・@astraystayyh・2.8k ⤷ childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, hint of unrequited love (they're idiots). posted 1/18/24.

three times you saved jeongin's ass and the one time he saved yours (and ended up confessing along the way).

#thank you to the best songwriter of our generation (aka han jisung) for these titles #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz fluff #skz imagines #skz scenarios #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #*writing #SO EXCITED FOR THIS :")

521 notes · View notes

krirebr · 1 year ago

Text

We Are Vain & We Are Blind

Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x f!Reader

Word Count: ~9.7k

Summary: When you move back in with your parents after a broken engagement, a drunken dare to visit the scary house on the edge of town changes everything for you. Forever. Part of the Psycho Killer AU

Warnings: Please note, these warnings are broad to avoid spoilers. Proceed with caution. Horror, psychological horror (including but not limited to: general mind fuckery, memory loss, nightmares) noncon/dubcon, gore, death (see prompt), violence (mostly offscreen), explicit language, oral sex (f!receiving), me wildly picking and choosing from hundreds of years of {redacted} mythology, All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika

Masterlist

A/N: This is my entry for @the-slumberparty All Hallow’s Tropes challenge. My tropes were The house from all the scary stories; Caught trespassing on private property; and A string of unexplained deaths. I had so much fun writing this one. Thanks so much for hosting Navy and Roo!

I tried out a lot of new things here. Horror! Smut! A ridiculous length! I’d really appreciate hearing what you think, so please drop a comment or reblog if you read it. Or come screech at me about this or anything else in my asks! Thank you for reading lovelies!

Driving through your hometown, you were surrounded by fall colors. It was comforting, in its own way. Just as the seasons changed, so could you. You liked the sound of that, of this being a good change. You needed it. You were ready for it.

You pulled off of the main street and drove the few short blocks to your parents' house, parking on the side of the road. The house was something that hadn’t changed, everything exactly as it always had been. Your eyes drifted to the neighbor’s house, a piece of police tape hanging off the front door. Your brow furrowed in concern. You hoped everything was alright.

You grabbed your duffle from the backseat, deciding that you could wait to bring in everything else. Your entire life fit into your small sedan. You tried not to let that make you sad. This was good. Change was good.

You let yourself in with the key you'd had since you were a child. “Mom? Dad? I’m here,” you called into the house.

Your mom met you in the entryway with a big hug. “We’re so happy you’re here, honey.” She took a step back to look at you, concern all over your face. “I could kill Andy for what he did to you.”

You sighed, “I’m fine, Mom, really.”

“You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

“I know, Mom,” you said, softly, both touched by her concern and a little annoyed that she was making you talk about it. You shrugged, “It’s over now.” Trying to change the subject, you asked, “What happened next door?”

Her face fell, “Oh, our poor neighbor died. They found him in the alley behind the American Legion. There was a whole investigation, but the coroner finally concluded that it was anemia.”

“I didn’t know you could die of that,” you said. Wasn’t it fairly controllable?

“I guess you can,” she shrugged, “if it’s bad enough and goes untreated.”

“Oh. Well, he must have been really sick then.”

She shrugged again, “Not that I ever saw, but how much can you ever know about someone you just say hello to at the mailbox? He was a nice young man, though.” She gave you another scrutinizing look, then gently patted your cheek. “Andy never deserved you,” she said and then made her way back down the hall towards the kitchen. “Your dad’s in his den,” she called over her shoulder.

You put your duffle down next to the stairs that led up to the bedrooms and moved through the house to find your dad. You found him in his den, sitting on the worn leather couch they’d had your entire life, baseball on the TV. You sat down next to him and he put his arm around you in a half hug. “It’s nice to have you home, sweetheart,” he said, not taking his eyes off the game.

“Thanks, Dad,” you said, appreciating the distance he was allowing you. The past month had been so hard. All the concern in everyone’s eyes, since it had all blown up with Andy, had become really difficult to take. You were happy to just sit here and watch baseball with your dad in silence.

At the next commercial break, he asked, “We have you for the whole night, or are you already making plans?”

You smiled. “I’m getting drinks with Tineka and David after dinner.”

“That’ll be nice,” he said. “Make sure you say hi for us.”

You got to the bar a little late. Your mom hadn’t wanted to give you up so easily, even though you’d be living with them and working from their house for the foreseeable future. You’d been to this bar a few times before, the nights before Thanksgiving when you were home from college, and drinking legally was still so novel. But not in ages, maybe a decade. You made your way through the Saturday night crowd, searching for Tineka before you found her set up in a booth in the back with her husband David, and someone you hadn’t seen in a very long time.

Tineka climbed over David to tackle you with a hug. “Oh my god! It’s been so long. I can’t believe you’re here!”

You returned the hug a little harder than she probably expected. Longer, too. She pulled back and examined you carefully, concern in her eyes. You just shook your head and smiled. “I’m really happy to see you,” you said.

She beamed back at you and then gestured to the last person at the table. “Look who we ran into!”

“Robbie, hey,” you said with a little wave. Gosh, you hadn’t seen him since graduation. You’d been decent friends your senior year and had even gone to Prom together when neither of you had been able to get another date. You’d lost touch when you’d gone away to school, and he’d stayed home to learn the family business.

“We mentioned that we were on our way to see you, and he wanted to tag along!” Tineka enthused, raising her eyebrows at you significantly. You struggled not to roll your eyes at her; it had been the tiniest crush, and that was so many years ago.

“Welcome home,” he said, sliding over to let you onto the bench seat.

You poured yourself a beer from the pitcher on the table, and you all quickly got into all the customary ‘nice to see you again’ questions. Was it weird to be back in town? Did you miss Boston? Did you know this teacher had retired? Or that that store had closed?

The pitchers multiplied, and when you’d lost track of whose turn it was to cover the next one, Tineka leaned forward excitedly, “Oh, here’s some good town gossip! Someone’s moved into the old Thrombey house!”

“What??” you yelled, louder than you meant to. “No way! I don’t believe it.”

“Wait, what’s the Thrombey House?” David asked. He didn’t grow up here with you, only moving here after he and Tineka got engaged, and she decided this was where she wanted to raise a family.

“It’s this old, abandoned house on the edge of town,” she told him. “There used to be this big, rich family that lived there. This was back in, like, the 70s. It was this old, super-rich guy and all his kids and in-laws and everybody. One night, one of his kids–”

“Grandkid,” you interrupted.

“Yeah, one of his grandkids, he just loses it and sets fire to the house, with everyone inside. They all die, and Hugh Drysdale, the grandkid, just disappears. No one ever sees him again.”

You nod seriously across from her. “And weird shit starts happening on the property. Like animal carcasses thrown onto what’s left of the porch. Or that psychic that went there when we were kids. She said all she felt was pain, and whatever spirits were there had a desperate warning, but she couldn’t get anything beyond that. And then our senior year, that freshman that disappeared around there. And no one’s ever been able to do anything with it. It just stands there, a burnt-out husk. There’s absolutely no way someone’s moved into it.”

Tineka was nodding furiously, but Robbie leaned forward and butted in. “Here’s what actually happened,” he told David. “There was an electrical fire. Everyone died, probably including Hugh.” Tineka took a breath, and Robbie put up his finger to stop her. “They never found his remains because he was burned to a crisp, and there wasn’t enough to identify.” He raised another finger, “It was abandoned long enough that animals moved in and left their prey lying around.” A third finger went up, “All these stupid stories and rumors have made it a beacon for the unwell and scam artists.” Another finger, “That kid disappeared because it’s where all you dumbasses would go to party, and he was drunk and wandered into the woods and got lost or fell or something.” He raised the last finger on his hand, “And whoever’s owned the property over the years probably doesn’t want to be responsible for the cost of demolition, so they’ve just done the bare minimum to keep the city off their backs.”

You turned to look at him, mildly annoyed, “I don’t remember you being this boring in high school.” He just rolled his eyes at you. “Whatever,” you said and turned back toward Tineka. “I still can’t believe someone’s moved in there. They’d have to gut the whole building!”

“All I know,” she said, slurring a bit, “is that someone’s been coming and going, and sometimes there’s a car parked there.”

“What? Have you been staking it out? Says who?”

“People!” she shouted, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Then her face lit up dangerously. “I know! We should go out there right now so I can prove it to you!”

You shook your head. “I walked here from my parents’ house, and I,” you placed both hands on the table to steady yourself, “definitely can’t drive.”

“Robbie can!” You could tell, now that Tineka had the idea in her head, she wasn’t going to let it go. “Right? Please, Robbie!” she whined.

Robbie, who’d switched to water after his second beer, who knows how long ago, looked to David, who shrugged, and then to you. All you could do was grin at him and nod. You hadn’t done something stupid like this in such a long time. The feeling was a little thrilling.

“This is such a bad idea,” Robbie said. “It’s so dark out. You won’t be able to see anything anyway.” He looked around the table again and then slumped in defeat. “Fine,” he gritted. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be out there too long.”

Robbie pulled up to the entrance of the lane leading up to the old Thrombey house and parked the car. Tineka leaned forward from her place in the back seat and lightly slapped your arm. “Alright!” she said, “this is where you get out! Good luck.”

“Wait,” you turned to face her, “I’m going on my own?”

“Yup! That’s how dares work.”

“When did this become a dare?” you asked, starting to get an uneasy feeling in your gut. “What if I get shot for trespassing?!”

“I thought no one could possibly live there,” she taunted.

You tried to look to David for help, but he’d fallen asleep next to his wife. Robbie just gave you a shrug. “Fine,” you said, somewhat angrily. “But if I’m not back in 10 minutes, you better come find my body.” You got out of the car, slammed the door closed, and started your walk down the path.

The lane was surrounded by dense trees, and it wasn’t long before you couldn’t see the car behind you. The wind had picked up, blowing leaves in front of you, and you wrapped your cardigan around you as tightly as you could. A few minutes later, the house appeared before you.

The outside had remained mostly intact, but you knew that it was basically a husk now. Still, it was large and foreboding. Most of the glass in the windows was cracked, and ivy had overtaken much of the siding. As you got closer, you could see that there was, in fact, a vintage beamer tucked against the side of the house. Damn it, Tineka was right. You were about to admit your defeat and go back to your friends when the front door opened. You froze as a man carefully walked out onto the decaying porch.

You could have sworn that a moonbeam suddenly appeared where there wasn’t one before to light him directly. He was dressed in a sweater and slacks underneath a long camel overcoat with a colorful scarf. He looked right at you even though you were sure that the area you were in was too dark to be spotted. “This is private property. You’re trespassing,” he said. Something about his deep voice and insistent stare had you pinned to your spot.

“Um,” you said, trying to look away, but there was something about him that had you transfixed. “Uh, sorry, I just– um, I didn’t think anyone lived here. How– how do you live here?”

He didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow at you. Everything had gone completely quiet. In the moonlight, his skin glowed, looked so pale it was almost translucent, and you felt completely hypnotized. He might have been the most beautiful person you’d ever seen.

“Sorry,” you said again, or maybe just breathed it. “We were just– we were drunk and–” You didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Why were you here?

He looked you up and down. “Hmm,” he hummed. “Not tonight then.”

“What?” you asked, even though you were pretty sure he was talking to himself more than to you.

“Not tonight,” he repeated, grinning a little meanly. “I don’t have much of a taste for cheap booze.”

What a strange thing to say. It’s not like you were inviting him for a drink. What did he mean?

His focus shifted to somewhere behind you, and it was like you suddenly found yourself back on earth. The sounds of the forest filtered back in, and you didn’t feel held in place anymore. As you tried to adjust to the sudden onslaught of your senses, you slowly processed that you could hear Tineka calling for you, and the sounds of Robbie’s car quickly approaching.

“Better run, little rabbit,” the man said. “You don’t want to keep them waiting.”

You turned around to see the car pull up, and Tineka hopped out without waiting for it to stop fully. “Holy shit, you scared the shit out of us! You didn’t come back! This was so dumb, I’m so sorry.”

You turned back to the house, to say what, you weren’t sure. But the man was gone. Maybe he’d never even been there? Maybe you were even drunker than you thought. “I’m not sure what happened,” you said, in a daze, as you let Tineka and Robbie herd you back into the car.

You were awoken the next morning by a knock on your bedroom door. Your mom let herself in without waiting for a response. She was carrying a large vase filled with roses so deep red, they were practically black.

“What are those?” you mumbled, barely awake.

“How am I supposed to know?” she asked as she placed them on your dresser. “Someone left them for you.”

“Wha?” It was too early for this. You rolled over to look at the digital clock on the bedside table. Oh. It was 11 AM. Fuck. You didn’t think you’d had that much to drink the night before, but you felt incredibly hungover. This was drinking in your thirties, you guessed. “Is there a card?” You finally mustered the awareness to say.

“Not that I saw.”

“Then how do you know they’re for me?”

She looked around theatrically. “Who else could they be for? Your father?”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for bringing them in, Mom. I’ll be down in a bit.”

She nodded and left.

You got up and examined the bouquet. They were beautiful, but… dark. There was something about them that made you feel a little unsettled. The vase looked old. Vintage. Expensive. No card. No sign of where they came from.

You opened your phone and pulled up the contact you’d made for Robbie the night before. You wrote out the text and hit send before you could think better of it.

Hey, weird question. And please know that I’m embarrassed to even ask it, especially if you say no, but. Did you send me flowers?

His response was immediate.

Nope, not me. Aren’t you popular

You cringed and tossed the phone on the bed to create some distance. You hadn’t even been back 24 hours yet. Who could they possibly be from?

Late that night, you were wandering through the grocery store aisles, making your way towards the freezer section. Your mom didn’t keep snacks in the house, and you’d had a sudden craving for ice cream. Just as you were coming up on your prey, someone stepped right in front of you and turned around to face you.

“Well, if it isn’t the little trespasser,” the man from the Thrombey house said. It was startling to see him in the middle of the grocery store. He seemed so out of place, wearing his same overcoat and scarf, which from this distance you could now see was silk. Everything about him seemed expensive, even his smirk, and here you were in yoga pants and a too-large sweatshirt. How did he even recognize you? It’d been so dark that night.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, somewhat bashfully, “sorry again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, with a cold smirk that you were starting to think was just the permanent state of his face. “I kind of liked the novelty of it. It’s not very often that your kind comes right to me, instead of the other way around.”

What the fuck did that mean? Did he mean not wealthy people? Well, you weren’t the one living in a house that was about to fall down. This man was so strange. “Well, anyway,” you said, “I’ll let you get back to your evening.” You tried to step around him to get to the ice cream case, but he followed you there.

“What’s your poison?” he asked. You grabbed a carton of Moose Tracks and showed him, before trying to walk away again.

He kept pace with you. “What’s your name?” he asked. He stepped in front of you again and looked you right in the eye. “C’mon, tell me your name.”

It fell past your lips without you ever making the conscious decision to tell him. He smiled. All of his smiles were a little mean. “You can call me Ransom,” he said.

You’d arrived at the self-checkout. You were so ready to get out of there. “Well, okay, Ransom. It was nice meeting you, but I’m gonna check out now. And let you get back to your shopping.” You noticed for the first time that he didn’t have a cart or basket with him. And he wasn’t holding any items in his hands. He could have just gotten there, not started shopping yet, but something in your gut told you it wasn’t right.

He paused at the opening of the aisle opposite you. “Yeah, I think I’ve found what I was looking for,” he winked, and then turned around and finally walked away.

You tried to suppress the shiver that coursed through you. There was something not right about him. It didn’t matter. He was gone. You paid for your ice cream and walked out the automatic doors–

You were sitting in your car. Something niggled at your brain. You couldn’t remember the walk through the parking lot. That was strange, but you were probably just on autopilot. Plus, you were tired. Exhausted, really. You hadn’t realized just how exhausted you were. There was a twinge in your neck. You tried to stretch it out but the skin pulled a little painfully. You looked at the clock. It was later than you realized. You needed to get home, eat this ice cream, and go to bed.

That night, you dreamt of a river of blood and you were drowning in it. You woke up choking on nothing.

In the morning, you still felt tired, but you could hear your parents moving around downstairs, so you got up and got dressed. You put on a T-shirt and jeans, a cardigan, and then found an old scarf that you looped around your neck a few times.

When you got downstairs, your mom was scrambling eggs at the stove, while your dad read the paper at the kitchen table. He smiled and wished you a good morning, then nodded at your chest. “Is that your passive-aggressive way of telling me to turn the heat up?” He laughed at himself.

“Huh?” you asked and looked down. Oh. The scarf. Was it odd? Now that you thought about it, you weren’t even sure why you’d put it on. It had just felt… important. You didn’t know why. But you also couldn’t take it off. You curled in on yourself, a bit defensively. “I just liked it with this outfit.”

Your mom came over to the table. “Leave her alone, you,” she said to your dad as she set a plate of breakfast in front of each of you. “I think it looks nice, honey,” she said to you as she sat down with her own plate. “Although, maybe a little warm. It’s cooling down, but it’s not winter yet.”

You fingered the fringe of the scarf self-consciously. “I just like it,” you said, quietly. It was just a scarf. You didn’t know why everyone cared so much.

Your dad was the one to finally change the subject. He shook out his paper as he asked you, “Didn't you go to school with Shannon McCready?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said around a bite of eggs, “She was a real bitch. What? She get arrested or something?”

Your mom grumbled unhappily next to you about your language, but you barely even noticed because the next thing your dad said was “No, she died a few days ago.”

You couldn’t say what or why, but something inside of you reacted to that. A frisson of fear crawled up your spine. "What?"

"Mhmm, the obituary doesn't say exactly, but it seems like it was sudden."

"Does it say how?"

He shrugs, "Just says natural causes."

"Natural causes? She was thirty-two!"

He shrugged again and went back to his paper. Your mom blithely ate her breakfast beside you. You couldn't explain why you were so unnerved by this, but something deep inside of you was screaming that it wasn't right. You took a deep breath and tried to ignore it. You barely even knew her. You needed to get logged into work. Focus on something else.

The workday was long and hard. Your exhaustion only built as the day went on and your mind was all over the place. But you finally made it to the end and triumphantly logged off.

You met Tineka for dinner, just the two of you, at a little place right off Main Street. After you’d gotten settled and your drinks had arrived, she’d looked at you carefully. “I didn’t want to bring it up the other night with David and Robbie there, but how are you doing with everything? Really?”

You sighed. “Uh,” you said, “better than I thought I’d be? I mean, everything feels kind of strange, because I was living this whole life, and I just don’t really have any of it anymore? I mean, I was living in Boston with Andy. We had an apartment, a community. We were gonna get married. And now none of those things are true anymore. None of that is mine. That’s strange. But, maybe not bad. I’m realizing that I was kind of unhappy there. More than kind of. But I couldn’t see it until I was outside of it. And, like, moving back in with my parents, it isn’t ideal, but it doesn’t feel bad right now. If feels OK. If that makes sense.”

Tineka nodded. “I think that makes a lot of sense. And for what it’s worth, Andy was a piece of shit and I’m glad you’re rid of him.” She reached forward, cocktail in hand, to clink your glasses together. All you could do was smile. You really had missed her.

Your seat faced the window, and as you chatted, you watched the sun set over the colorful trees outside. It really was pretty here. This wasn’t a bad place to spend the season.

As you were finishing your entrees, you frowned when you saw Ransom walk in. He noticed you too, and, waving the hostess away, made a beeline for your table.

“We just keep running into each other,” he said, once he got to you, that perma-smirk firmly in place.

"It's a small town," you said, nervously. You couldn't explain why this man triggered your fight-or-flight instincts so terribly. You were being ridiculous. He hadn’t done anything. “Oh, uh, sorry. Ransom, this is my friend Tineka. Tineka, Ransom.”

Tineka looked between the two of you, open curiosity on her face. “How do you know each other?” she asked.

“New friends,” Ransom supplied. “We just can’t help bumping into each other.”

He didn’t seem to want to talk about where you’d met. That was his business, so you just nodded along.

He stood there for a moment, in a way that was too confident to be awkward, but still had you feeling a little uncomfortable. Tineka, bless her, had the social skills you just couldn’t pull together at that moment. “It’s packed tonight,” she said. “You’re welcome to sit down with us, although we’re probably leaving soon,” she gestured to your nearly empty plates.

“Thank you,” he said, “I think I’ll take you up on that.” He winked at you as he took the empty chair next to you. Something about it, about him, made you have to look away, focusing on your plate.

“So,” Tineka started, and oh no, that was her casual interrogation tone, “are you from around here? This town is small enough that I’m always surprised when I don’t already know someone.”

Ransom chuckled. “Sort of. I used to have family here, but I haven’t been back in ages. Just in town to collect some things and then I’ll probably be on my way again.”

You could feel him looking at you. His attention was always so much.

“Well, that’s too bad,” Tineka said, giving you a sideways glance you knew meant trouble. “We’re only just getting to know you.”

He laughed. “Well, I’ll admit, I’ve found more here than I expected.” He stretched his arm out and briefly rested it against your chair back. His fingers brushed you between your shoulder blades and you couldn’t help the way you shivered. He dropped his arm back into his lap. When you turned to him, he was looking at Tineka, but you could feel his attention still on you.

“You said your family’s no longer in the area?” Tineka kept probing.

“No, they all passed a while ago.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly.

“Don’t be,” he said. “It was no great loss, trust me.” There was a darkness in his eyes when he said that that had you swallowing nervously.

“I guess it’s the season for homecomings,” Tineka said, then pointed at you, “she just moved back too.”

He grinned knowingly at you. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm,” she said, pointedly. “Recovering from a shitty ex.”

“Tineka!” you hissed, but all she did was laugh.

“Well,” he said, working his jaw, and you would swear it almost came out as a growl, “I bet he’ll live to regret that.” You couldn’t explain it, but at that moment, it felt like a threat. Which didn’t make any sense. He didn’t know Andy. He barely knew you. But the most disturbing thing was the little thrill that rushed through you at the thought.

While you were having your mini-crisis, he stood up abruptly. “You know,” he said, “it really is busy in here. I’m probably better off getting dinner somewhere else. And I’ve intruded on girls’ night enough.” He then looked right at you and said, “I’ll be seeing you.” That, too, felt like a threat.

As he left, Tineka looked at you excitedly. “He’s hot!” she said, too loudly considering he hadn’t actually exited the restaurant yet. You hissed at her, but she batted it away. “And he’s clearly into you. Seems like the perfect opportunity to fuck Andy out of your system.”

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed and looked to the front to make sure he’d left. “You don’t think there’s something kind of unsettling about him?”

“What do you mean?”

You paused to figure out how to put it into words. “I don’t know, sometimes, just the way he looks at me, I get this chill down my spine.”

She laughed, delightedly. “Yeah, that’s called ‘he wants to fuck you!’ Seriously, this is good. Great, even!”

“I don’t know,” you said. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on that you just didn’t understand.

She sobered and looked at you seriously. “Listen, you deserve this. After all that shit Andy put you through – the women. It’s time for you to get yours. I don’t care if it’s Ransom, or Robbie, or whoever, but you deserve this.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s definitely not going to be Robbie.” You couldn’t even imagine that.

“Ok, fine!” she said, throwing her hands up. “Then it should be Ransom!”

You laughed. “Ok, Tineka. Sure.”

A little while later, you left the restaurant together. On the sidewalk, Tineka asked, “Did you walk here?” You nodded. “Do you want a ride home?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s not far. I’m good.”

“Are you sure? It’s just so dark.”

“Unless this town really changed while I was gone, I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine. Thanks, but I want to walk.”

“Ok,” she said, but she seemed hesitant.

You rolled your eyes and she backed down. “Hey,” you said, pulling her into a hug. “This was really fun. I love you.”

“Love you too,” she said and pulled away, starting to head back to her car. “Think about what I said about Ransom!” she threw over her shoulder.

You laughed and started walking in the opposite direction, back to your parents' house.

A few blocks later, when you were off the main street, you stopped when you heard a noise behind you–

You were half a block further down now. You looked around, confused. What just happened? How– The pain in your neck was back. It was on the other side now, and worse. You were so tired. A little dizzy. You walked as quickly as you could the rest of the way home.

You dreamt again that night. In this one, you sat in the middle of a large field. The sun shone down on you but you were sobbing uncontrollably. Your tears were made of blood.

You slept through your alarm the next morning, only waking when your mom came in and shook you. You were exhausted still, even though you’d slept a solid nine hours. Maybe you were coming down with something. Even though you had no other symptoms.

You went through your dresser three times until you found your one turtleneck. It seemed important.

Work felt impossible. Your focus was non-existent. You just wanted to lie down.

Late that afternoon, when Robbie texted to see if you wanted to grab a coffee, you logged out early. You weren’t going to get anything else done anyway. Caffeine sounded helpful.

When you met outside the coffee shop, he asked, “Is coffee still ok? I know it’s getting kind of late in the day. We could do beer instead.”

You shook your head. “No, coffee’s good. I’m trying to cut down on how much I drink.” You stopped. You were? When did you decide that? Why? You shoved down the not-right feeling that was crawling up your throat. It was fine. It was good. Healthy. It was fine.

Robbie raised his eyebrows when you ordered a triple espresso, but didn’t say anything. It helped some, but you still felt sluggish. And you struggled to focus on the conversation.

“Are you doing okay?” he asked after about half an hour.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said, trying to shake your head clear. “I’ve just been a little off the past few days. Probably just everything that’s happened catching up with me.”

He nodded. “I heard about all that. I’m so sorry. I’m here to listen if you ever need it.”

You gave him a genuine smile. “I’m fine, really,” you said, “but I appreciate it.”

A few minutes later, as you were trying to decide if you’d been there long enough to politely make your excuses and go home, he said, “Oh, do you remember Alex Higgins?”

“Uh, I don’t think so?” The name didn’t ring a bell, but you weren’t sure if that was because you didn’t know them or whatever was going on with you.

“He was a few years ahead of us? Friends with my brother?”

You shrugged and shook your head.

“Well, this won’t mean much to you, then,” he said, “but he died a few days ago.”

Not right not right not right, your gut said. “How… how did he die?” you asked, terrified of the answer without knowing why.

“They don’t know yet. They haven’t been able to find anything wrong with him. They just found him collapsed outside, I guess.”

You white-knuckled it through the rest of your coffee.

Afterward, you lost over half of your walk home. When you arrived, there was another bouquet of almost black roses on your front porch.

Things began to disintegrate quickly from there.

Over the next week, you kept losing time. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, sometimes even more. Once you started paying attention, you realized it was only after the sun went down. But knowing that didn’t seem to help.

There were more nightmares too. There was the one where you were being chased through the woods by something unseen, under a blood-red moon and the trees came alive to trap you. Or the one where you were back at the Thrombey house and it was on fire. The skies opened up, but instead of rain, the clouds poured down blood. The strangest one had Ransom in it. Blood flowed from his mouth as he choked you with his scarf. They all started to blend together after that. Blood. Pain. Terror.

Even with the nightmares, you slept like the dead. But that didn’t stop you from waking up exhausted every morning. You called in sick to work multiple days. You stopped seeing Tineka or Robbie. What would have been the point? You couldn’t concentrate on anything. You could barely stay awake. And every time you went for a walk in the evening, to try to get some exercise and clear your head, you lost time. Something was very wrong and you didn’t know what to do.

The one person you did see was Ransom. He often seemed to be out and about at the same time you were. The fear you felt for him was still there, but you couldn’t deny that you were drawn to him, too. When he was near. you could feel the chaos that had taken you over the last week finally quiet down. You still lost time with him, but it didn't seem to matter as much. Nothing seemed to matter as much when you were with him. Even if you still felt the instinctual urge to turn around and run away whenever you saw him.

Compounding your troubles, the roses just kept coming. Every few days, another bouquet appeared on your porch. You still had no idea who was sending them. It had occurred to you that maybe it was Andy, trying to fuck with you. As much as you hated him now, that just didn’t seem like him. But you couldn’t think of anyone else who would do it either. You barely even knew anyone in town anymore.

For a reason you couldn’t articulate, you didn’t say anything about any of this to your parents. You couldn’t hide it from them though. They may not have known exactly what was going on, but they knew there was something. You overheard them one night as you came down the stairs to get a glass of water, their low tones coming from the living room.

“She is not okay,” your dad was saying, “and we need to stop acting like she is.”

“She’s been through a lot,” your mom said. “If she wants space–”

“Look at her!” your dad said, trying to keep his voice quiet, but the emotion still came through. “The time for space is over. I think we need to start talking about professional help.”

As quietly as you could, you ran back up the stairs. You weren’t that thirsty.

You spent the next two days in bed. When your mom came in to check on you, you told her you had the flu.

On the third day, you woke up feeling clear-headed for the first time in ages. You were rested. You hadn’t had any nightmares. The fog seemed to have cleared from your brain. When you bounced downstairs and greeted your parents, the relief on their faces made you want to cry. Your work day was the most productive you’d had since you’d arrived at your parents’ house. You finally felt like things were going to be ok.

That night after dinner, you decided to celebrate your good mood with snacks. You got in your car and started driving to the grocery store.

When you parked, you looked up. You weren’t at the grocery store. You were in front of the Thrombey house. You burst into tears. No no no. How had you gotten here? Why was this happening to you? As you were about to put the car in reverse and go back home, the front door opened and Ransom came out. So instead, you got out of the car.

“Trespassing again?” he asked, that smirk always on his lips. Like there was a joke that only he knew about.

“I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how I got here, I don’t know what’s happening!”

He came down off the porch and walked over to you. He gently brushed a tear off your cheek and looked you in the eye. “Poor little rabb–

You were sitting in your car, parked in front of your parents’ house. The sun was coming up. How? The last thing you remembered, it was evening. It’d been hours. So many hours. The entire night. You let out a frustrated, guttural cry. You checked your phone, certain there must be so many panicked calls and texts from your parents, but there was nothing. Looking further, you found a text from yourself to your mom, telling her that you were spending the night with Tineka. Had you? Was that where you’d been? You thought about calling Tineka to check but one of two things would happen. She’d be confused as to why you couldn’t remember that you’d just left her house. Or, she’d tell you that she hadn’t seen you in days. Both options seemed equally awful and impossible to deal with. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, and looked up at the front door. In front of it, was an ornate, vintage vase, filled with roses, so deep red they were practically black. No. Absolutely not. You started your car again and pulled back out onto the road in a flurry. This was one mystery you might actually be able to solve and you were going to do it.

The only dedicated floral shop in town didn’t open for another two hours. That was fine. You could wait. You sat in your car as long as you could stand it, and then when you grew too antsy to bear, you got out and paced in front of the storefront.

As soon as the door was unlocked, you were inside the shop, frantically looking through all of the roses.

“Can I help you?” an employee cautiously asked from behind you.

You spun around. “I’m looking for black roses.”

“Oh, uh, so, roses don’t actually come in true black. The closest is a really dark red that looks almo–”

“Yes, I know that!” You interrupted. “That’s what I’m looking for!”

“Well,” they said, a professional curtness in their tone now, “we don’t carry them. You’d have to do a special order.”

That was actually good news. It’d narrow down possibilities considerably. “Can you tell me who’s been ordering them?”

They looked confused. “Like, ever?”

“No! Just in the past two weeks!”

They took a step back. “We haven’t had anyone order them recently.”

You shook your head wildly, desperation taking over. “No, that’s not true! You’ve been delivering them to my house! I just want to know who’s sending them.”

Another employee came out from the back and eyed you carefully.

“Please,” you said, sounding pathetic even to your own ears. “You have to tell me who it is. I have to know.”

“We haven’t had any orders like that,” the first employee said firmly.

“No!” you shouted. “Please just tell me. You have to tell me!”

“Ma’am,” the second employee finally spoke up. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

You stopped and looked around yourself. Another customer had come in. They stood by the door and stared at you. Everyone stared at you.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The first employee looked deeply uncomfortable, but the second just folded their arms and gave you a hard look.

“You’re sure?” you asked. “You really haven’t had any special orders?” You felt a few tears fall down your cheeks.

“Ma’am, if you don’t leave, we’ll have to call the cops.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You left as quickly as you could, trying not to look anyone in the eye.

Once outside and away from the floral shop, you found a bench and sunk down on it, trying to pull yourself together. What was happening? What was wrong with you?

You heard someone across the street call your name and you looked up to see Robbie rushing toward you. He dodged a few cars and then stepped up onto the sidewalk. “What’s wrong? Are you ok?” You started sobbing at that, unable to hold anything in any longer. He sat down on the bench next to you and tentatively put his hand on your back. He said your name again, softly. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “I think I’m losing my mind,” you choked out. “I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He was rubbing gentle circles now. “Tell me what’s happening. Maybe I can help.”

So you did. You told him about losing time and saying things you didn’t understand, being so tired all the time you could barely get out of bed, the nightmares. He listened quietly to everything and when you were done he just nodded for a moment, then said, “First thing, I think, is that you need to see a doctor.”

You shook your head. “No, I can’t.”

“Listen, I know it’s scary, but I don’t think this is going to go away on its own. This could be a brain tumor or something. You really need to get it checked out.”

“You’re not listening to me,” you growled out, surprised by how upset you were, and how quickly your mood had changed. “I can’t.”

“Ok,” he said, putting his hands up in front of him. “I’m sorry. I’m listening. Why can’t you?”

“I just can’t!” you said, standing up. You were jittery. You needed to move.

Robbie reached out a hand, and quietly said your name again, clearly trying to calm you down.

You couldn’t stop shaking your head. “I just can’t, okay? I just can’t. I can’t. I’m not allowed!”

You both froze. “What–” Robbie stopped then tried again, shock clear on his face. “What do you mean you’re not allowed?”

You didn’t know, exactly. You just knew it was true. No doctors. Absolutely not. “I have to go,” you said and turned abruptly to race back to where you’d parked your car. Robbie called after you the whole way.

Your phone buzzed at you the whole drive home. Robbie. He wouldn’t stop. It continued all day. He was worried about you, his texts and voicemails told you. What you said had really freaked him out. Was someone hurting you? He just wanted to help. You hid in your bedroom and buried your phone in your laundry hamper. You could still hear it buzzing away, but it made it easier to pretend that you couldn’t. Finally, sometime after dark, it stopped.

It started ringing again in the morning, just as insistent as before. You dug it out of your dirty clothes, ready to tell Robbie to just forget what happened and leave you alone when you saw that it was Tineka, and she was calling for the third time.

When you answered, at first you just heard her crying. “Tineka?” you asked. “Are you there? What’s going on?”

“Robbie,” she sobbed, and for a moment you thought maybe he’d talked to her, told her who knows what, but then she continued. “Oh god, Robbie. Robbie’s dead.”

A chill whipped through your entire body. “What?” you breathed. Just yesterday– No. Your mind went to all the people you’d heard about since you’d gotten here. The vague reasons, the shrugs given as cause of death. A pattern you’d refused to see until this moment. You had to know if he was part of it. “Tineka, how did he die?”

“Oh god,” she sobbed, “It’s so awful. I can’t– His throat. It was ripped out.”

You felt time stop. Distantly, you could hear Tineka still talking. Going on about animal attacks, coyotes and bobcats, maybe something escaped from a sanctuary or private owner. You couldn’t explain it, you didn’t know why – you obviously didn’t know anything – but you knew deep down in your being that this was because of you. Something was happening.

Without saying anything, you ended the call and left your phone on your bed. You didn’t get dressed, still in the leggings and oversized t-shirt you always slept in. You moved through the house as quickly and quietly as you could, not bothering to stop to look for your parents. The only things you grabbed on your way out were your coat and your car keys.

As you started driving away, you didn't really have a destination in mind, but once you were about halfway there, you realized that you did in fact know where you were going now. Of course, you did. There was only one place to go. One person to see.

As you pulled up in front of the Thrombey house, it struck you that you’d never seen it in daylight before. The way the sun shone down on it almost made it more eerie. It should not be here, in this daylight world. It was a relic of the night. You shook your head at yourself. Your thoughts had become so strange lately.

You waited in your car. He always heard you and came out, but this time, nothing. You looked to the little driveway at the side. The beamer was there. So where was Ransom? After several minutes of waiting, you got out. You went up to the house, ready to pound on the door until he came out, but stopped at the porch. You could clearly see now how the wood was rotting, the holes that were already there. You couldn’t risk taking a single step onto it. You didn’t know how he came in and out this way.

You looked around, there must be another way in, maybe on the side of the house. As you walked around the corner, you came up short. Lining this side of the house, hidden from the front, was a beautiful, neat row of rose bushes, in such a deep red they were practically black. No. No no no. It couldn’t be. But of course, it was. You were so stupid. So blind. You fell to your knees beside them. It had all started here, at this house. You could clearly see that now, finally. Whatever end came, that would be here too, so you laid down, and you waited. There was nothing else to do.

You didn’t know how much time had passed. You were pretty sure you’d dozed in and out. But at some point, the sun had gone down. Once it was fully hidden beneath the horizon, you heard the front door open and footsteps come around the side of the house.

Ransom crouched down next to your head, his hand gently brushing the hair out of your face. “So you know now,” he said.

It wasn’t a question, but you still shook your head. “No,” you said. “I don’t know anything. I don’t understand.”

He nodded and stood up. You sat up, almost like there was a string in your chest, connected to his. “You know,” he said, looking up at the house. “Ransom is my middle name. I’ve always gone by it, but when they reported on everything that happened here, they used my first name, so that’s the one everyone remembers.”

Of course. “Hugh,” you breathed. “You’re Hugh Drysdale.” You were as sure of it as you’d ever been of anything. Nothing made sense. Everything made sense. He nodded, pleased. “How?” you asked. Hugh had been roughly your age when the fire had happened and he’d disappeared. Almost 50 years ago. The man standing in front of you didn’t look a day over 35.

He crouched down again, so that he was level with you, so that you could clearly see his face in the moonlight. So that you had a perfect view of the fangs that dropped down.

You gasped, wanting to scoot away on your hands, but you stayed pinned in your spot. “No, that’s not– You can’t–” You took a deep breath and gave yourself the courage to say the word. “Vampires aren’t real.”

He threw his head back and laughed. It was wild and loud and cruel. “Come on now,” he said, “I know you aren’t that stupid, sweetheart.”

As you tried to process this, you realized it didn’t actually matter how any of this could be real. There was only one question you actually needed an answer to. “Why did you do this to me?”

He grinned at you, mean as ever. “Because you came right to me, little rabbit. How could I resist an offering like that?” Tears started to run down your face, and he cooed at you, collecting a few with his finger. “I’ll admit, at first, I’d just planned to drain you, leave your body beside the grocery store for some teenage employee to find the next day.” He smiled at the thought. “But that first taste. You have no idea how good you taste, baby. It couldn’t just be a one-and-done. It was as easy as anything to put you under a little thrall. Compel you to forget when I fed on you, make sure you didn’t let anyone else know. The plan was to snack on you while I was here, and once I had everything I needed, I’d bring you with me, keep you as a little pet blood bag until I was bored and done with you. And torturing you was so fun. It made having to be here so much more bearable. But as I broke you down, brought you to your weakest, it made me realize that I’m desperate to see you at your strongest. See you surging with power.”

There was something in his words, in his eyes, that filled you with panic. But also something else. Want, you were terrified to admit. “What does that mean?” you whispered.

“It means you’re mine, baby, and I’m going to keep you. Claim you. Forever.”

It was the last word you fixated on. That was the word that meant everything. That really said what he meant. You took a deep breath, trying to get the crying under control. “And if I let you do that, this will all stop? I’ll be ok again?”

He chuckled. “Sure, honey. If you ‘let’ me do it, it’ll all stop. You’ll get your mind back. The thrall will lift.”

“And if I don’t?”

He tilted his head to the side. “If you don’t, you’ll still be mine. I’ll just make it hurt. Your friend Tineka sure has a pretty neck. Maybe I’ll rip it out, just like I did to your other little friend. Or your parents. Blood is kind of like wine, you know, gets better with age.”

“No, no, please,” you begged.

“Then give yourself to me, right now.” He leaned forward into your space and you fought the dual urges to pull away and to close the distance completely.

You took a deep breath and blinked the tears away. Your torment would stop. Things would be better. Your family would be safe. “Okay,” you whispered, “please. Please, Ransom.”

Without further ado, he pulled you into a bruising kiss, both hands tightly gripping your face, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. He gave you no choice but to sink into it, his fangs still dropped, occasionally nipping into your lips. When he pulled away, you were left gasping for breath.

You had no time to recover before he was pushing back on your shoulders and then slipping his hands under your knees to tip you onto your back. You held yourself up, as much as you could, on your forearms, unable to look away from him. Mesmerized by him, as always. He pulled on your leggings until they ripped in two and tossed them away. He crawled between your knees and then did the same to your panties. You cried out at the sting of the elastic breaking. He smoothed a hand over you, fingers moving through the thatch of soft curls, and growled “Just perfect.” Then he lowered his face to your cunt and slowly dragged his tongue along the length of it. You finally gave in and let your upper body fall back, tossing your head to the side, your hands grasping for purchase in the dry grass beneath you, as he worked you over with his mouth. Little mewls escaped you, beyond your control. You wanted to deny how good it felt; he was a literal monster. He had killed countless people. His own family, in this exact spot where he now defiled you. But you couldn’t think about that right now. You couldn’t think about anything other than his mouth on you, the rising heat in your core, the grass under your hands, the twigs poking into your back. The one thing outside of this exact moment that your brain briefly flashed to was Andy. How he had never felt like this. Never given you this. In his own way, he too, had wanted to drain you dry and then he’d left you with nothing to show for it. His promise of forever had turned out to be empty. With Ransom, you knew that word meant something different. Meant something more. Something real.

Your mewls had turned into soft little chants of “Please,” and “Ransom,” over and over. As you reached your peak and were just about to go over it, he removed his mouth from you. You cried out in frustration and lifted your head just in time to see him turn his and sink his teeth into your thigh. You screamed at the pain. The way it mingled with the intense pleasure you were already experiencing, along with the constant fear you’d been in for the past weeks had you hurtling over the edge. You came harder than you ever had before, your body spasming through it, tears rushing down your face, wetness pooling between your legs. Ransom drank from you all through your orgasm and the aftershocks. As you were finally coming down, he released your thigh, quickly licking up the blood that had dripped down your leg. He reached up to your face and grabbed your chin, forcing eye contact as he viciously bit into his own wrist. He brought his other hand to the back of your head, grasping it firmly, and then pushed his bloody wrist into your mouth. You flailed, instinctively trying to get away, but his hard grip wouldn’t let you move. You choked as his blood filled your mouth. Your eyes were wide, hands wildly trying to release his hold on you.

“Just drink,” his voice filled your consciousness. “Drink. Take it all, sweetheart.” At some point, your body gave in, no longer struggling, trying to dislodge him. You took what he gave you and swallowed. “Good girl,” he cooed as you continued to drink. “Good girl.” You grasped his wrist, latching on with your mouth, suddenly desperate for more. Blackness was gathering at the edges of your vision. It started gradually and then quickly overtook you. The last thing you heard before you slipped into the darkness was Ransom’s chuckle.

You gasped for breath as you rocketed up to a sitting position. You could hear everything. The birds on the roof of the house. The wind moving in the trees. The ants in the ground beneath you. You could feel everything. The hair on your arms, standing straight up. The grass growing in the ground. The electricity in the air. The one thing you couldn’t feel was your blood flowing through your veins. It was still. You knew it was. But something was pumping through you. Power. You gasped again to feel it. You could do anything now. You were sure of it. You’d been so weak before. But now. Now nothing could beat you. With that power was also the most intense hunger you’d ever felt. You needed something, right now. You needed everything. You needed to feed, you needed to fuck, you needed to drink.

A familiar chuckle interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to see Ransom standing above you. That mean smirk that was always on his face. “Oh little rabbit,” he said, “we are going to have so much fun.”

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, there's a follow-up! 💜

Don't Touch Me, I'm a Real Live Wire

#ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x female reader #dark fic #knives out #ransom drysdale #horror fiction #chris evans fanfiction #navy and roo's sleepover #kris wrote something #fanfic #we are vain & we are blind

629 notes · View notes

kimingyuslover · 1 year ago

Text

DOKYEOM FIC RECS

f*ck my thighs by @ourdawnishotterthanourday (smut, workplace!au, fluff, slight angst)

Ever since you started working at XTREMEGEAR, you’ve been hopelessly obsessed with Lee Seokmin...god damn Lee Seokmin and his fucking divine thighs. You didn’t think you’d ever stand a chance with him. But when your company forces you to go to a sports and wellness retreat with the whole HR department, you discover that you haven’t been as discreet about your little crush as you thought you were.

please sir by @starryseokmins (smut, college!au, professor!dk)

summary: you fail your favourite professors class and you make a deal with him to help you pass.

best neighbor of all time award by @drunk-on-dk (slight fluff, smut)

✦summary: Seokmin is the best neighbor you've ever had, making it impossible not to fall for his charms.

open wide by @kittyhuii (smut)

synopsis: It's been months the last time you've been with your boyfriend since he's been on tour with the members, or in other words — it's been months since the last time you’ve gotten off with your boyfriend. Finally, after such a hectic time for your boyfriend, he takes you out for a date. You haven't even gotten out of your house yet you were already fighting unwanted thoughts upon seeing how your boyfriend was dressed. A pair of jorts that perfectly hugs his muscular pair of thighs and a polo shirt with its sleeves rolled up, accentuating his vein-covered arms. You try your best to avert your gaze and survive this date. However, your efforts will soon be in vain as your boyfriend drags you to the nearest comfort room to stuff you with something else other than food.

tipsy by @onlyseokmins (smut)

epistolary yearning by @himbocoups (epistolary form, historical fantasy, romance | smut)

synopsis: a series of letters, speckled with notes of budding romance and longing, exchanged between a newly married couple separated by seas and the ongoing war the emperor sent his commander to end.

amanda? by @gyupinkys (smut, reader is not amanda, that's just the question dokyeom asked when he first met her)

"DK, I know you're trying to kill me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

crazier for you by @onewmin (smut, husband!dk)

Summary: While getting ready to your husband's work gala, you get startled by how amazingly he looks in a suit.

werewolf!seokmin by @multi-kpop-fanfics (smut)

christmas favour by @xddaengx (romance, smut, christmas, ceo!seokmin, fake dating)

🎄 Summary: You just wanted to avoid your creepy boss, you didn't know you would have to rely on an old friend to be your imaginary boyfriend.

dad!dk by @number1mingyustan (fluff, dad!dokyeom, smut drabble)

professor, who? by @sunnylovespickles (smut, fluff, college!au, professor!reader)

⋆ summary| You’re his muse, he’s your student. You’ve gotten exceptional close to Lee Seokmin, a star student in your photography class. His eye is above else’s and he’s able to recognize the inner beauty in the little things, even you. The artistry becomes stronger between the two of you, exceeding the camera’s lense. 'Through his lens, I saw myself in ways I hadn't before—strong, sensual, and beautifully imperfect.'

pediatrics department by @taeyegu (smau, fluff, angst, enemies to lovers? nurse!seokmin)

“to me, you became the one ray of sunshine that lit up my lonely hours gone by and became the promise of eternity that glitters like a jewel upon your small white palm… ” (me to you, you to me, mido and falasol)

trivia 承 : love by @viastro (enemies to lovers!au, humor, fluff, band!au)

ミ★ synopsis: who thought it was a good idea to be in a band with your sworn enemy? that’s right. absolutely no one.

memories of us by @wongyuuu (angst, fluff)

summary: every night seokmin dreams of his past lifes, when he met and fell for his soulmate countless times.

too sweet by @gyuzgrl (smut, dom!seokmin y'all....)

summary- when Jeonghan brings up BDSM at dinner, your boyfriend is keen on trying it out for himself. you laugh it off, telling him he doesn't have the stomach for it, and he decides to show you just how capable he is in bed.

#seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #dk x reader #dokyeom x reader #seokmin x reader #dk smut #dokyeom smut #seokmin smut #seventeen smau #dokyeom smau #kml.recs

587 notes · View notes

yuri-is-online · 7 months ago

Note

Was Lilia more “Oh my thorn fairy I have another child?! I can barely cast a spell as of now and future me wants a fucking KID?! AT THAT AGE?!”

Or more of a

I HAVE ANOTHER SON?! AND IT’S FROM ME!?

If his Yutu tells him he comes from the future? Because it could imply he does regain his remaining years and magic. Idk how you wrote that problem that even rn it’s giving talk about Lilia surviving book 7 or not.

If it’s the second I already see him passing by Silver’s room really excited and saying “YOU HAVE A BROTHER!” And zooming off, leaving a very confused Silver and thinking he refers to either Malleus or Sebek.

technically anon asked first but this ask is much longer so it was awkward to screenshot for an answer. Here is the link the anon used for reference, I obligated as an elderly hater to let you know it's from SAO. Anon's idea is extremely good and we're going to roll with it for this Yutu's Uniqe Magic because you know he was always going to be a little shit.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. SPOILERS FOR: Book 7, Lilia's back story, and Silver's unique magic. Please engage with this in mind. For more fyuutre kid au, please check out the series section of my masterlist.

I have a bit of difficult time writing for Lilia given how much older he is than the rest of the cast, so I tend to write his Yuu as being a bit older themselves. Maybe they had an extremely difficult childhood and connected with Lilia over their shared sense of robbed innocence. Whatever it was I think this Yuu has a bit of a fascination with creatures of the night and a lot of their weirdo reputation within their community comes from kids telling each other that Yuu and Yutu are vampires. That makes me tempted to say Lilia! Yutu's real name is Alucard or Sebastian, something vaguely vampire themed.

None of those rumors are helped by Yutu finding himself very lethargic when out in the sunlight or his preference for colder temperatures. From his perspective he can't exactly help being who he is, people should really just get over themselves and let him do his thing. It's not his fault that bats really seem to like him for some reason, the neighbors are exaggerating Mr. Animal Control officer he swears.

Because he prefers to spend his awake hours in the dark, he is waaaaay too comfortable doing things and going places he shouldn't. He's real familiar with all the abandoned buildings and sketchy alleys of your town and has tagged quite a few of them. I like the idea of Lilia! Yutu being really interested in street art and Graffiti. I could see him putting up a bunch of bats everywhere and getting in a bunch of trouble for it. He has very fond memories of Yuu letting him paint murals on portions of their house in an effort to meet him halfway. He might like a good prank but unlike his father Yutu is always pulling his punches with Yuu.

Lilia didn't exactly have a supportive parent while he was growing up, something I feel like Yuu remembers and is very conscious of in their parenting of Yutu. Unfortunately for Lilia they also remember that he had another child and was a lot older than them, something Yutu raises several eyebrows at and causes him to ignore the things Yuu tries to tell him about his "great sense of humor" and "desire for different peoples to learn and grow with one another-" yeah that's great can you back up a bit to where you said he had another family? Yutu goes through life thinking he was the product of an affair Yuu had with a much older, married man who was just trying to feel young again. The amnesia stuff... sometimes he wonders if his dad tried to have Yuu killed. He never says it out loud because something tells him he's wrong, but gut feelings aren't as trustworthy as statistics...

So you can imagine his surprise when he tumbles out of a coffin and is told that his dad was a faerie general bound in service to a family of dragons, veteran of an ancient war, and technically the adoptive father of the Prince of the children of the night and the Prince of the rival human kingdom that killed his best friends. One of which is alive and overwhelmed with joy to meet him. Silver wanted Yutu almost as badly as Lilia and Yuu did so to see him alive and awkwardly squirming in his arms? Silver hasn't cried this much since they lost Lilia and Malleus.

Having a proper older brother, not just the concept, is an extreme change for Yutu. He's used to it just being him and Yuu, and he was sort of expecting Silver to hate him just for existing. Nothing could be further from the truth, Silver wants his younger brother to have the same freedoms he did while attending school but he also respectfully requests that Yutu spend at least some of his free time with him. He tried desperately to find his dreams over the years and was never able to make firm contact, but he doesn't want to pressure Yutu into caring about him. Yutu is didn't realize how badly he wanted other family members until he got to have Silver, he's even willing to take up sword fighting so they can get closer.

Sebek is also overwhelmed with tears upon seeing Lilia! Yutu. He is a bit harsh on him for "not living up to Master Lilia's legacy" because he doesn't know anything about fighting. He does applaud him for his willingness to learn. Yutu thinks Sebek is hilarious and messes with him just as much as Lilia does. Something Sebek is completely willing to let him do because it makes him feel like Lilia never left.

All of the Yutus get to see some of the photographs Yuu left behind, but Lilia! Yutu is especially interested in them. He makes a small photo album of all the ones he can find of his dad, especially ones where he's with Yuu and Silver. He's partially driven by guilt for thinking his father was a terrible person, but really he just wants to feel closer to him. He's half fae, and sure he has Sebek to talk about that with but what he really needs is a connection with his father. Yutu doesn't really care about being a faerie. He just cares about his dad's acceptance, everything else can go hang.

I don't have a name for his unique magic, but going off of anon's idea it allows him to overwhelm his target's mind, forcing them to think about their greatest fears to the point they are convinced they are really going through it. Someone hates spider? All over their face and in their clothes. Crippling fear of failure? Suddenly that emotion is all they can focus on. And if it's a mindless creature like a blot phantom or a monster they become overwhelmed with the sensation that they are unable to breathe and about to die. Yutu can't control the illusion the person experiences so usually he tries not to use it on his classmates.

That changes when he goes into the past. Some rando want to shit talk Yuu? Nightmare. Macho NRC guy wants to rumble? Nightmare. Some random guy jumped out from behind him and yells "BOO!" Nightma-

If Yutu had been just a hair slower he would have been in extreme pain, the dangerous glint in those familiar ruby eyes scream that. The short fae smiles almost cruelly, advancing on him clearly upset even though Yutu has dropped the spell.

"Well now, that's no way to great a senior." Lilia's voice is strangely soothing, it occurs to Yutu that this is probably the first time his father has ever been angry at him and he can't help himself. He laughs,

"Yeah sorry about that." He makes sure to try and be cute about it, which helps to diffuse the tension some what. "You really scared me so it was all I could think to do."

Lilia is very impressed by Yutu's reflexes and control over his unique magic. He is even further impressed by how eager Yutu is to train with Silver. The kid has some real promise and fits into Silver and Sebek's dynamic better than Lilia could have dreamed of. He really hopes the two will benefit from having a relatively normal human friend their age to train with. Maybe he and Yuu will stick around and give him some piece of mind about the kids being in good hands when he's gone.

Yutu hanging around Diasomnia gives him an excuse to chat with Yuu more, not that he exactly needed it. Lilia sort of hates the way he's drawn to you, it feels unfair. Unfair to you to give you hope there could be something more and toy with your affections; unfair to him for life to finally allow him to realize what romantic love is like just in time to have to let it go. There is a bittersweet tone to all of your interactions that his housemates are a bit too socially awkward to pick up on but Cater does.

Yutu is surprised how much he likes Cater, he associates him with a terrifying monster he's had to fight multiple times, not a fun guy who is really determined to help his parents get together. And what's even better he's really chill when Yutu asks for stories about Lilia, he has a lot of them and a completely different perspective than his older brother allowing Yutu to glean some more insight to what his parents might have been thinking in the future.

He finds himself spending a lot of time with the pop music club, not as an official member though he's not great at carrying a tune. Kalim, Cater, and Lilia are glad to have another person to chill with, sometimes they'll play music and Yutu will draw something based off whatever noise they made. Cater wants to talk him into doing album art for them... you know if they ever get around to making a recording.

I think Yutu will only tell Lilia who he is if he has no choice. He wants to mess with the timeline as little as possible, but should a monster from his timeline appear in this one, say like an overblotted Yuu another asker was so nice as to bring up, well it's not like he says who he is. He just addresses the monster as his parent and has a very loud meltdown not wanting to fight them again. Something Malleus is more than willing to assist him with.

"Think nothing of it." Malleus's power is truly terrifying, Yutu is torn between sorrow that he wasn't on their side and relief he didn't overblot a second time. "You are Lilia's son yes? That makes you my subject, and a most precious one at that." Not that Yutu has avoided interacting with Malleus exactly, he's just found talking to him exceptionally awkward because well. He's not Yuu, he's very aware of how important Malleus is supposed to be. But the way he's looking at him now makes him think that maybe he was missing out on interacting with another older brother.

Something that's confirmed when he turns to see how big his father's eyes have gotten, the man is shaking as he stares at his face and flicks between him, Malleus, and Silver like he's staring at the most precious pieces of art in the whole universe.

As you brought up Lilia's survival isn't guaranteed, I did not solve that problem at all. I sort of just... wrote that Lilia would age more or less like a normal human and not really be able to use magic on par with what a fae would consider normal but would still be impressive to a human... so while Lilia might be a bit reluctant to show his face in Briar Valley he would still have enough years to have and raise Yutu. He might have actually died around the same time as Yuu if they had lived a normal life.

He is overwhelmingly excited at the thought of having another baby. Lilia might not know what to do with them but he does really like kids. What's harder for him to accept is his relationship with Yuu. Raising a child is something he's done before, being someone's long term partner is not. He is unused to feeling desirable, and unfamiliar with acting on his own desires. Sure Lilia might seem very free spirited, but much of his life has been dictated by a sense of duty. The thought of having something precious to him that chose him specifically of their own free will is... disarming. He's overwhelmed with how helpless you make him feel and how little he despises it.

Yutu's need to be accepted by his father is met and exceeded almost immediately. Lilia wants to cook a big family dinner for Yuu and all of his boys, something that Malleus politely rejects asking if he can instead show his Culinary Crucible skills off to Yutu (it's really so he can make babiest brother promise to never eat anything Paw Paw makes EVER) and it's all so normal Yutu almost forgets that he's listening to a practical god smugly tell him he knows all about edible weeds as his father flies around him cracking jokes and pinching his cheeks. His older brother is asleep on the couch waiting for the food to be done and his precious parent is helping his Uncle Sebek set the table, listening to him sniffle about how beautiful Master Lilia's family is.

Lilia might be practically retired, but his mind is still sharp. The information Yutu is able to pass on to him lands in good hands. When he tucks Yutu into bed that night, long after the boy has gone to sleep so as not to embarrass him he makes sure to take a good long look at the little miracle. He is beyond grateful Yutu exists, not even the Thorn Fairy could have given him a finer blessing (he'll have to make sure to tease you about that later, that's got to be a good pick up line) He will make sure that this risk his son has taken pays off, Lilia Vanrouge wasn't feared for no reason. Something it seems some foolish mortals need reminding of.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #future kid au #i believe in big brother malleus supremacy #he wants to be called older brother but refuses to ask since that would be undignified #but if yutu calls him that he gets so excited the tail comes out and starts wagging

232 notes · View notes

antebunny · 1 month ago

Text

a cuckoo in the nest

(part three. for @authenticaussie whose comments on parts 1 & 2 inspired me to write this. i might actually finish writing the whole thing now hehe).

Premise: fae!Tim AU where Tim's parents gave him to the fae when he was nine. Now he's twelve, part fae, and trying to escape the Unseelie Queen. He strikes a bargain: if he can make every member of the Wayne family love him by the end of summer, he can leave. If not, he must stay with the Unseelie Queen forever.

Meanwhile, Bruce strikes his own bargain with her: he gets Jason back, safe and sound. In return he takes in this creature of her choosing, which resembles a human boy. Of course he won't let it hurt his family, but he'll play along for Jason's sake.

[part one] [part two]

“What the fuck, Bruce?”

When Bruce’s eldest bursts into his study he knows it’s going to be a long afternoon. Dick has spent much more time around Wayne Manor since he brought Jason back, but he and Bruce haven’t spoken much one-on-one. So Dick approaching him now means he’s ready to fight.

Dick waits for the doors to slam closed behind him before he demands: “Why didn’t you tell us that Tim’s our neighbor?”

Bruce sighs and gestures for Dick to take a seat in the green velvet lacquer chair across from his desk. “What are you talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb,” Dick rages, “I know you knew that Tim used to be our neighbor before his shit parents gave him away. You didn’t think this was relevant information for the rest of us?”

Usually Bruce is pretty good at figuring out what line of thought Dick is racing after like the world’s largest bunny rabbit. He’s not subtle and in fact is usually openly cheerful about it. In this case, however, Bruce struggles to connect the fae in his house with anyone living in Bristol. He mentally sifts through all the information stored in his brain about the current and past Bristol residents (very paltry, compared to his database on the most effective acids and poisons) and finally comes up with Jack and Janet Drake, of Drake Industries. They’d had a son of approximately the right age of the fae–or what the fae appears to be.

Bruce reminds himself that just because the fae looks and acts like a human child doesn’t mean it is anything even remotely human. Like the Unseelie Queen it will exploit every weakness and loophole it can find in the bargain if Bruce lets it. That said, he is reluctantly impressed by the fae’s acting. Of course, the fae says and does things that are transparently unusual for a human child, but given that the fae is not a human at all, it’s doing a rather convincing job of pretending to be one. More than pretending, it attempts to stir sympathy and protective feelings from the other members of Bruce’s family through its lost little boy act. Worst of all, it’s working on them.

“Tim…Drake,” Bruce ventures.

Dick rolls his eyes explosively (quite the feat for anyone but Dick, for whom it is a natural talent). “Yes,” he huffs. “At least with Jason you told us you fished him out of a dumpster. Tim you just dropped him here without a word. I mean I’m trying to include him and stuff but…you aren’t exactly making it easy, B.”

Even though Dick is mad at him, Bruce can’t help the creeping feeling of fondness. It’s been a while since Dick sat in that chair, and Bruce had nearly forgotten how he sprawls, half-noodle, half-boy, into any container he’s put into. Dick has a way of being laidback and looking comfortable everywhere, even at galas where he is distinctly uncomfortable. In Bruce’s office, he looks right at home. When Dick was younger, he used to insist on sitting in the chair even though his feet dangled half a foot off the ground, determined to be grown-up and taken seriously. Now he overflows, draping himself over and around an old wooden chair that no longer fits him.

The memories remind Bruce exactly of what exactly is at stake here. It’s no longer just Jason. Dick, Alfred, even Barbara who is spiritually his, and the mantle of Batman depend upon Bruce winning this battle with the fae.

Unfortunately, the Unseelie Queen’s bargain with Bruce has trapped him in an awful cycle. In order to protect Jason, he must act as if this fae is a regular human boy. But in order to protect his whole family, he must not only keep an eye on the fae but also convince them to be on their guard around it.

“It is not easy,” Bruce enunciates carefully.

Dick rolls his eyes again. “Boys, you have a new little brother, his name is Tim Drake, I acquired him through dubious and doubtless wacky magical means. Boom. How hard was that?”

It is deeply distressing to Bruce that the fae has convinced Dick that it is Tim Drake. A lucky coincidence, perhaps, that the real Drake boy is approximately the right age? But why him, out of all the boys in Gotham? Bruce doesn’t believe in coincidences. He’ll have to look into that.

But first, he must rid Dick of his delusion. He has refrained from interfering with any of the fae’s interactions with his children of Alfred so far, terrified that he might jeopardize Jason’s life. Now the fae goes too far. Nevertheless, Bruce has faith in his children, in his brilliant, clever, caring boys. They’ll figure the fae out.

“It is not easy,” Bruce repeats. “It is…impossible.”

“Impossible to say what? His name? Where you got him?” Dick’s eyebrows knit together when Bruce stays silent. “B. What type of magical means?”

Bruce sits ramrod straight. He places both palms flat on the desk, brushing aside some old papers on WE finance reports. Stares right into Dick’s eyes. And says nothing.

“Ohhhhhhhh.” Dick leans back in his chair, fingers laced behind his head. “I see what you’re saying. Or what you’re not saying. I’m picking up what you’re putting down.” He waggles a finger at Bruce, frown replaced with his typical cheeky smile. “Don’t worry B, me and Babs are on the case. We’ll figure this out for you no prob.”

“Hnnnnn,” Bruce says neutrally.

“Hehe, I knew you couldn’t suck that much at communicating.” Dick springs up and leaves the office whistling what seems to be birdsong, in a much better mood than when he entered.

As soon as the doors close again, Bruce sinks into his chair with a deep sigh. Dick knows something is awry. He’ll get Barbara, perhaps his friends on the Titans, and definitely Jason whenever he finds out, to solve the mystery for Bruce. He has faith in them. He taught Dick everything that he knows, and Dick is plenty innovative on his own. If nothing else, his establishment as Nightwing has proven that he can roll with the best of the best. Bruce is unbearably proud of his kid. Now he just hopes it is enough.

Bruce is nearly certain he did nothing to imply that the fae is not human. Perhaps he implied that the fae was “acquired,” as Dick put it, through magical means, but that by no means implies that the fae itself is not human. It isn’t, of course, but that is for Dick to find out through no suggestion or help on Bruce’s part.

He knows that Dick will agree with his decision to bargain their safety for Jason’s safe return. The only person he suspects might disagree is Jason himself. Already he can picture Jason lecturing him if and when he finds out: accusing Bruce of doing it for himself, of being unbearably selfish, of forcing Jason to bear a responsibility he never asked for. And Bruce will bear it all because it’s all true. He saw a way to have his son back without having to break his moral code and he seized it. Jason can call it self-serving and hate Bruce all he wants, because Bruce would do it again in a heartbeat.

“So, Timmy,” Dick says casually, “are you a metahuman or what?”

Barbara, Dick and Tim are in the middle of a near-empty Staples when Dick pops out with his invasive question. They’re shopping for school supplies, since come fall Tim will need to go to school. Bruce has registered him, through a combination of fake and real forms, for Gotham Academy. Tim’s memories of school were his first to go from Before, when he was purely human. Needless to say he’s not looking forward to school again. But he’ll be going with Jason, and maybe they can talk about it even though they’ll be three grades apart. He’ll get to know kids his age who will learn his name and never think twice about using it. Anything that makes Tim more human is a good thing, in his book.

“Dick, for the love of God,” Barbara groans. She casts a quick look around the Staples. Luckily, no one is around to hear.

Sometimes she wonders how she got caught up in not one but two school shopping trips for Dick’s little brothers. No less than eight employees and customers at the various stores they’ve stopped at have given them strange looks, no doubt thinking that Dick and Barbara are a tragically young couple to have a kid Tim’s age. She isn’t sure who would be most embarrassed if she corrected them, so she said nothing.

The truth, that Barbara is a freshman in college taking her high school boyfriend’s new kid brother shopping, potentially sounds stranger. Add in the part where they’re trying to acclimate the kid to human society, and Barbara’s certain she’d be kicked out of the store.

“What?” Dick protests. “I have a deal with B. C’mon Timmy, you don’t want your favorite big brother to lose to the big bad B, do you?”

“A deal?” Tim warbles.

“Yeah,” Dick persists doggedly. He still hasn’t figured out what triggers Tim, so for now he continues until Tim comes to some internal resolution. “He doesn’t think I can figure it out. C’mon Tim, my ego’s on the line here.”

Tim stares at the blue spiral notebook in his hands. Both Dick and Barbara lean in, anticipatory, as he turns it over and over. Despite Barbara’s reservations about Dick’s timing and bluntness, she’s also desperately curious about where the new kid comes from. All he has been able to tell her so far is that Bruce seems to have sworn some kind of oath not to talk about the details.

“You don’t have to tell us,” Barbara adds, only a little reluctantly. “But you know, no matter if you’re an alien or a cyborg or a sentient piece of mud, you’re a part of the family, right?” She gestures in a wide circle, to encapsulate the absurdity of their situation.

Two first-year college students, arms full of Ticonderoga pencils, notebooks, binders, rulers, calculators and the like, all for a not-quite-human twelve-year-old boy. Jason insisted on getting his own trip, which really made Barbara feel like she and Dick really were parents with two kids competing to be the favorite. Jason also strong-armed Barbara into agreeing to a Dragon Ball Z marathon next weekend. She really doesn’t know how she’ll explain that one to her new college friends. They already think she’s a bit strange for still dating her high school boyfriend.

“I’m not…I made a bargain,” Tim whispers. He trusts them, even though he grips that notebook so tightly it folds over. Weeks ago he gave Dick and Jason his true name and they have never used it to make him do something he doesn’t want to do. Surely, if he can trust them not to use his name against him, he can trust them with this.

“With who?” Barbara asks immediately.

“About…?” Dick prompts at the same time.

Tim ponders over the phrasing until words lose their meaning. There really is no safe way to explain that he made a deal with the Unseelie Queen to secure their undying affection in exchange for his freedom, is there? No matter how he says it, he’ll be outed as the emotionally manipulative little infiltrator that he is. In the end, all Tim can do is shake his head. “If I win my bargain I’ll be fully human,” he evades.

“Oookay.” Dick attempts to fit this piece of information into his catalogue of Timmy facts. So far it includes “used to be Timothy Drake, age nine” and “my parents handed me over as part of a mysterious deal” and “I’m not fully human (anymore???)” and “Bruce can’t talk about where he found me” and now “I made a bargain with my own humanity.” It’s not making any goddamn sense. Dick has some amount of pride in his skills as a detective, and Tim’s situation is pretty thoroughly destroying it. The only through-line he’s found is an awful lot of bargains and deals. Which perhaps explains Tim’s overreaction to Dick saying he made a deal. Whoops.

“But you know,” Barbara jumps in again, “you don’t have to be fully hu–”

“I want to be,” Tim cries. “I want it back. I will be–”

Someone clears their throat. At the end of the notebooks aisle, a Staples employee points at the analog clock on the western wall. It’s rather unhelpful as a visual signal, since only Barbara can read it.

“It’s almost closing time,” the employee explains delicately. They look anywhere but Tim’s teary face or Barbara and Dick holding hands.

“Mr. Wayne,” Tim says bravely, “can we talk, sir?”

School starts in a couple of weeks. Tim is running out of summer, but he has Alfred, Dick, Jason and Barbara firmly on his side. Last week Jason taught him how to make frijoles and tried to get him to read Jane Austen. Neither attempt succeeded, but the intent was there. Dick tried to teach him parkour, which went much better. His one remaining problem is that Batman still does not want him at all.

So he corners Batman when the man’s alone with one solid plan of action, a heart full of hope, and two shaking knees.

Batman stares down at him suspiciously. “Yes.”

He turns away abruptly and Tim hurries to keep up with his long strides. After so long in the human realm, he no longer have the floatiness they once did. By the time Batman makes it to his office, Tim is panting. His feet hurt. He worries and waits in the corner as Batman shuts the doors, shutters the windows, and manually activates enough security measures to shock Harry Houdini. Is he in trouble? He hasn’t even done anything yet.

Wordlessly, Batman gestures for him to take a seat. “What is it.”

Tim collapses into the chair. His feet dangle half a foot in the air. “I would like to make a deal.”

“No.”

“Please, Mr. Wayne.” Tim can’t cry yet, he hasn’t made his proposal. “I–I think–”

“I said no–”

“I’m offering information!” Tim says quickly. His hands, driven to distraction by all his stress, twist into pattern after pattern in his lap. “I can tell you what I can do and how the fae work.”

Batman is a regular human who operates in a world of gods and monsters. He works with the most powerful superheroes. He leads the best of the best. In order to do that he plans. He needs information, and there’s only one area where Tim knows more than him.

Batman’s eyes narrow. “And what do you want in return?”

The same love and affection he gives so freely to Dick and Jason. But Tim knows better than to ask for that. That’s why he’s proposing this deal in the first place. He can’t trick Batman into loving him the same way he tricked the others, but maybe he can offer his services. Maybe if Tim is useful enough, good enough, that will be enough for Tim to get to stay. So instead:

“A Nikon D850,” Tim answers. “It’s a camera, sir. For nighttime photography.”

For a tortuously long moment, Batman just stares at him with that dark, unreadable expression. There isn’t a hint of emotion, much less affection, in his eyes. Tim’s hands flap around loudly. He jams them under his thighs to quiet them.

“Done,” Batman says tonelessly. “Now tell me everything you know. And,” he adds, voice dropping to a growl, “I will know if you’re lying.”

Despite his promises to himself, something hot stings Tim’s eyes and tickles the back of his throat. He’s not sure if Batman has magic powers, but he doesn’t doubt the threat for a second.

“Right,” Tim acknowledges, only a half-step from crying. “Well. I was born Tim Drake. When–”

“I know you purport to be Timothy Drake.”

Tim’s shoulders hitch. Batman’s interruption cuts, paper-cut-like, into his thin skin. One wrong word from flinching, one quarter step from crying.

Batman pins him to the chair with cold eyes. “I already said I will know if you’re lying. Try again.”

It’s so unfair that Tim almost bursts into tears just from frustration. Just because his parents sold away his right to be Timothy Drake doesn’t mean that he wasn’t born human. But he knows better than to argue with Batman, so he takes his second chance and changes the subject.

“Yessir. Sorry, sir. I can teach you how to find fairy circles,” Tim offers. “The trick is not to look for something out of place. ‘One may enter the realm of the fae wherever the–”

“–Wherever the wild and mundane meet,” Batman interrupts, voice so flat he sounds bored. Unspoken is the order: tell me something I don’t already know.

Tim had forgotten that Batman journeyed to the fae realm by himself. It isn’t as though he stumbled upon a fairy circle by accident and decided to strike up a deal with the Unseelie Queen. He must have researched how to locate fairy circles by himself. He’s Batman. What in the world can Tim possibly tell him that he doesn’t already know?

“I can tell you about the abilities of the fae in the human realm,” Tim suggests, nearly despairing. “We can commune with plants. We are more in tune with the weather. We can, um, float a little. Sometimes. I think I can also make people not notice me. It’s like a veil on people’s senses. Like I’m always in their per-fory–per-fi-fory–periphery vision–”

“You can also make plants grow a little fast,” Batman interrupts for the third time. “You sometimes cause video footage of you to corrupt. You attract the loyalty of animals, both wild and domesticated.” His lip curls. “You are a superb actor.”

Somehow Tim doesn’t feel complimented. The underlying dark tone to Batman’s observations is I told you I was watching you. But it is the lip curl, a small, nearly intangible action, that finally breaks Tim, not a word or even anything serious. Just the slight hint of a sneer on Batman’s face even though the Unseelie Queen has accustomed Tim to far worse condescension and Batman isn’t even wrong to judge him. Hasn’t he tricked the rest of Batman’s family into loving him with his acting?

Tim squeezes his eyes shut. A tear escapes and leaves a cold trail on his cheek as it snakes its way to his chin. He fights the urge to vomit. “I can teach you how to use a fae’s true name against them,” he whispers.

When he opens his eyes, Batman is watching him cry with a blank, apathetic face.

“To test that,” Mr. Wayne says slowly, “I’ll need to use yours.”

All at once Tim is struck by the childish desire to close his eyes and wish himself into a world where Batman never looks at him like a dangerous, evil, life-sucking parasite. Wants so dearly to deny the existence of this world where he must replace the Unseelie Queen with his hero. But Batman demands it must be so. Declares that Tim has no other use. So Tim trembles and shakes and falls apart in that oversized lacquer chair until he’s cried his little heart out, but in the end he gives Batman what he wants.

“I understand, sir,” Tim says miserably.

It won’t be forever, Tim vows to himself. If Mr. Wayne accepts him, if Tim is allowed to stay, then one day he will be fully human again. One day his name will hold no power over him than it would over any human. Mr. Wayne doesn’t want to use it like the Unseelie Queen does anyways, he just wants to verify Tim’s honesty, which is fair because Tim has done nothing but lie since arriving to Wayne Manor.

Even though it feels awfully cruel.

Tim scrambles through his memories to recall how it was explained to him. “A fae is under the thrall of whomsoever can speak their true name.” Then he struggles to verbalize what it actually feels like to have your name used against you. “But the effects–they’re temporary. It’s like…a rubber band. You can pull it into a shape but the moment you stop it instantly snaps back. And if you use it again and again and again then it works less and less and less.”

“Fae names suffer from diminishing returns.” Mr. Wayne looks just the tiniest bit amused. At least he’s not interrupting Tim this time.

Tim has no idea what that means, but he nods anyways. “And it is easier to command that which is easily given. The…effect is…quicker.”

When the Unseelie Queen says dance then Tim is swaying before his body can communicate with his head, but when she says won’t you stay with me forever, Timothy Jackson Drake? then Tim digs his heels in and refuses. You can be the prince of my Unseelie Court, little one. Drink the blood of stars, dance with the mad and the lost, and serve at my feet forevermore. Tim shudders and shoves the memory away firmly. It won’t ever come true. Tim won’t let it.

Tim straightens to the fullest height offered by the giant chair, acting for all the world as if he is making a business deal with an equal. “You may use Timothy Drake,” he offers primly. “Though it doesn’t work very well on me.”

“But of course.” Bruce assumes that this is because Timothy Drake is the assumed name of a fae who refuses to give Bruce its true name. He cannot say he blames it. “Stand up, Timothy Drake.”

Tim pushes the chair back and stands. He blinks. Feeling return to his legs as pinpricks of sensations. He sits back down.

For the first time, Mr. Wayne’s gaze breaks away from Tim. He casts about his office in search of a command which Tim would be reluctant to do yet doesn’t break Batman’s moral code. Tim, who had begun to recover his nerve, starts to tremble again. Mr. Wayne received the information of fae’s true names positively, so Tim became more confident. Now he worries that Mr. Wayne received it too positively. Where is his line? What wouldn’t he order Tim to do, if he could?

“Come here, Timothy Drake,” Mr. Wayne commands finally.

Tim’s legs move of their own accord again. They carry him around Mr. Wayne desk until he stands before the man. He may be a liar but he is not so good that naked terror isn’t written plainly on his face. He keeps his hands behind his back and lets them twist around and around out of sight.

“Now,” Mr. Wayne says. “Timothy Drake. Take a step to the left. Right. Spin. Sit. Up. Right. Left. Left. Jump. Down.”

The rapid volley of commands ends with Tim flat on his stomach, chin stinging fiercely from its introduction to the floor. His body interpreted down as fall on your face for him. He gets back to his feet unsteadily and waits for more.

“Take this batarang.” Mr. Wayne pulls it out of one of the desk’s many secret compartments. “Timothy Drake. Cut my hand.”

Tim lurches, batarang between his fingers, for one heart-stopping moment, towards Mr. Wayne’s outstretched hand before he gets himself back under control. Batman watches just as unemotionally as before as the batarang nears his unprotected palm, as Tim wars with himself.

“I don’t want to,” Tim pleads. “Please, Mr. Wayne.” His hand shakes violently. “Please don’t make me.”

“Stop.”

The batarang clatters to the floor. Mr. Wayne leans back in his chair, unaffected. Tim staggers back to his own chair, cheeks stained anew with hot tears.

“It feels like someone altering who you are.” Tim offers this truth in a last, desperate appeal to make Mr. Wayne understand. “It’s like someone possessing you. I know it’s not very powerful, Mr. Wayne, but–it hurts. It–”

Mr. Wayne raises a hand. “Enough.” His voice is just as gravely as before, but it feels a little more gentle. “I believe you.”

The next morning, a Nikon D850 appears in Tim’s bedroom. He leaves it on his nightstand. In a week he’ll pick it up and head to the streets where he first found Batman and Robin. But for now, the sight fills him with dread.

#tim drake #my fanfiction #my writing #batfam #batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #dc robin #robin #can anyone think of an appropiate tag for bruce calling tim 'it'#i thought of misgendering and objectification but both wildly mischaracterize what bruce is doing #hashtag fanfic writer problems #dick: is mad at bruce #bruce: my boy. my light. the cleverest most special boy in the world. the light of my life #dick: i'm picking up what you're putting down #narrator: he was in fact not picking up shit #the poor staples employee was like. the polish jerry meme #fae tim

85 notes · View notes