#again KEEP TAGGING ME IN SUNDAY SIX IT MAKES ME SO FUCKING HAPPY OKAY

[woundedheartwithin]

Haaaaaaaaaa….

[honeyhotteoks]

across stardust - six (j.yh); section one

summary: you and yunho have worked together for years, idol and makeup artist, but until today you’ve never touched him skin to skin. when the world tilts on its head from just a brush of his cheek, you realize he’s so much more than a crush, he’s your soulmate. five | six (section 1); (section 2) | series masterlist 🔗read on ao3✨across stardust pinterest board

note: the end. thank you all so much for loving this story and being so kind and supportive. this fic has meant the world to me, and i hope you all are happy with the ending. there will be a short epilogue posted soon, but for now our story comes to a close.

tags/warnings: idol!yunho, makeup artist!reader, fem!reader, soulmates au, soulmate identifying marks, soulmate tattoos, tattoed!reader, anxiety/nerves, some general angst and upset emotions, allusions to a bad household growing up and cptsd, very frank coversations about idol life, pr, etc. saesangs and saesang invasions of privacy, discussions about delulu both fun and not okay delusion, but then also smut! including.... oral m!receiving, throat fucking, messy oral, cockwarming, dom!yunho, sub!reader, actual d/s dynamics even if it's kinda not defined, subspace but reader doesn't know that's what it is, fingering, dirty talk, fingers in mouth, light degredation, mostly praise, heavy on the good girls / pretty girls, cowgirl, absolutely intense multiple orgasms, creampie, dw they don't need to wrap it up they're married and in love

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: fantasy, romance, smut || soulmates au

word count: 21.9k **note, this part was too long again for tumblr! please make sure you continue on to part six section 2, linked here!

The ring feels heavy on your finger when you wake up on Sunday morning to an empty bed, but you’re grateful for the weight of it. Without its presence you’d have nothing tangible telling you that the wedding happened at all, that you and Yunho were all of a sudden husband and wife. As the days of the week drag on, the ring becomes your tether. Every time you feel his spikes of anxiety, disappointment, or discomfort, you find yourself fiddling with the ring, your only true way of communicating with him while this is all happening around you, to you.  

By Tuesday you think you’ve memorized every divot and scratch on the band, and by the evening on Wednesday you’ve taken to spinning it in twisted little circles on your finger, so many times you probably have an indent already. 

On Thursday, you wake up once again to his side of the bed empty. You were up late the night before, a deep pit in your stomach, but once you fell asleep you really, truly slept. With Yunho gone, it’s hard to get rest like this, but somewhere in the back of your mind you know your body is trying to carry you both through the stress. 

When your eyes open it’s to a room bathed in full sun. For a second you feel relaxed, at ease, but the quiet of your apartment and the silence around you jolts you properly awake and you twist in the sheets to find your phone. 

Each morning, Yunho had been updating you on the negotiations. 

The meetings had gotten off to a rocky start to say the least, with their CEO truly blindsided by the sudden negotiations. Yunho hadn’t revealed too much about his reaction to the marriage, but you can put two and two together. 

Your eyes flick up to the clock on your nightstand and with the sharp sink of a stone in your stomach you realize it’s already ten. 

Scrambling in the sheets you search for your phone and hastily take off the Do Not Disturb. 

You have a missed call from an unknown number from eight thirty this morning, but then one simple text from Yunho sent only fifteen minutes ago. 

I know I said you wouldn’t need to speak with anyone, but our CEO would like to meet you.  

You sit down immediately, tapping back a fast reply - Meet me? 

He must be keeping a close eye on his phone, because his reply flicks back in record time - He wants to discuss your job directly, and it should be your choice how things are handled, not mine.

Your stomach flips, but he’s right - What time? 

Can you be here by eleven? 

You check the clock again - Yes. 

It takes a moment for him to respond this time, and you wonder if he’s in a meeting now and organizing things. If he’s speaking to the CEO directly, if their attorney is at his side. 

Your phone buzzes with his reply and you breathe out a sigh of relief - This feels like the last step, and I’ll be next to you the whole time. I love you. 

You text him that you love him too, and with a mix of tumbling excitement and panic in your belly, you get ready and start the all too familiar walk to the KQ offices. When you get there, you’re early and a new face from the security desk gives you a visitor’s pass and walks you towards the elevators. 

You haven’t seen Yunho in person since he kissed you on Saturday night and tucked you back into bed, but when the elevator doors open and you’re greeted with his face, everything melts away. 

“Hey,” He smiles, “I thought that was you,” 

“Hi,” You smile back, probably giving too much familiarity away for being in a shared hallway, but with him looking at you like that, you couldn’t care less anymore. 

“Are you ready?” He asks. 

“As I can be,” You nod, “is he upset?” 

Yunho shakes his head, “No, but I don’t know, this whole negotiation process has been strange,” 

You take in a deep breath and nod, “Let’s get this over with then.” 

Without hesitation, Yunho takes your hand in his, “Let me walk you back,” 

Your heart stutters, your hand solidly in his within full view of anyone, but he doesn’t pull away or apologize like the touch was an accident, he meant to take your hand and he meant for people to see. 

His thumb smooths over your knuckles. 

“You’ll be in the meeting?” You double check as you start to follow him up the hall. 

“All of us will,” He assures you, “don’t worry.” 

You give his hand a squeeze and steady your racing heart. 

The CEO’s corner office is nice, but somehow still modest. That’s the first thought that strikes you as Yunho knocks lightly and opens the door, nothing like the last corner office you were dressed down in, flashy in ways that made you want to roll your eyes. 

You’ve met Kim Gyu-uk before, but it was brief and years ago when the teams were much smaller. He’s around sometimes on tour or gives rousing speeches at larger company parties, but otherwise the KQ CEO was largely out of your orbit, your jobs so vastly separate you rarely cross paths even in the halls of the same building. 

Despite that, he greets you with a smile like he’s been friends with you for years, standing the moment the door opens and crossing to the front of his desk to outstretch his hand to you. 

Your hand slips out of Yunho’s and you meet the handshake. 

“Miss y/n,” He shakes your head, “it’s very good to see you again.” 

“Oh,” You bow your head, “thank you,” 

“Perhaps I should say Mrs. Jeong,” He grins, eyes flicking between you and Yunho, “Yunho, now that your lovely wife is here I can offer proper congratulations.” 

Yunho wraps an arm around your shoulders, thanking him, but you have the strangest sensation that this can’t be real. He’s too kind, too pleased about the marriage, too congratulatory, and it makes your stomach clench with unease. 

“Alright,” He says after a moment, returning to his commanding side of the desk, “let’s chat,” 

Yunho guides you forwards to an empty chair, and you sink down into it, nodding to the rest of the men in the room, Attorney Choi at your right, Yunho at your left, and the rest of the members perched around the room in various spots. 

While there’s a subtle air of tension in the room, no one looks upset or outwardly stressed, and all you feel from Yunho’s side of the bond is anticipation. 

“So,” Kim Gyu-uk begins, “I trust that Yunho has been keeping you up to speed on our meetings this week?” 

He hasn’t, not nearly enough for you to feel confident in this meeting, but you nod anyways, “Yes, I think I’m clear on things,” 

He leans back in his chair, “Then you already know my position on your termination. While you two technically broke contracts and the company was within the right to fire you, I was not properly informed of the situation and of the true nature of your relationship. Mr. Minchul took it upon himself to handle it in the way that he did, and though I disagree with his actions, this is my company and my responsibility.” 

Yunho takes your hand back in his. 

“I apologize,” Gyu-uk says, “on behalf of the company and personally, you were treated without respect or consideration. I can assure you it won’t happen again,” 

“Oh,” You manage, “I… thank you, of course, thank you,” 

“Mr. Michul was let go this morning,” He adds. 

Your eyes widen, but Yunho leans forward, “What?” 

“Clearly we need a bit of housecleaning,” Gyu-uk offers, “you know we’ve never operated that way, and I don’t intend to start now.” 

Hongjoong smiles in your peripheral vision and nods, pleased. 

There’s a collective sense of relief, and your tense fingers start to relax. 

“Now,” Gyu-uk rests his elbows on the desk, leaning forward to address you, “as for your position here. I cannot offer you the same job,” 

Your heart sinks. 

“With your relationship,” He nods towards you both, “it wouldn’t be professional to have you work in such close proximity. I would say the same to any couple in this building,” 

You nod, “I can understand that,” 

“That being said,” He smiles, “I hope that you will accept a position working with the Xikers team,” 

Yunho smiles next to you, watching your face carefully. 

Gyu-uk continues, “You’d be in a slightly more senior role with that team of artists, but you’ve done great work for years with us, and until this I’ve never heard anything but positive feedback about you and your performance.” 

You’re stunned silent. 

Their CEO smiles and nods, “And of course,” he says, “Ateez may need an extra pair of hands on tour from time to time, if you’re comfortable with a certain amount of additional responsibilities and overtime,” 

Your eyes prick with tears, “Of course,” you interject, but then catch yourself, dipping your head and getting your emotions under control. 

Yunho rubs the back of your hand again. 

“Good,” He nods, “then Monday, can I expect to see you back at work?”

You swallow back the knot in your throat, “Yes, sir,” 

He nods, pleased. 

Attorney Choi clears his throat next to you, “I’d like to see her employment contract,” 

“I assumed so,” 

“We want explicit statements excluding their relationship from any of the standard language,” He continues, “and we expect an increase for a more senior position, even if Xikers is a junior group.” 

“Oh, I,” The words slip out, a slight shake to your head, you can’t lose this job when it’s been such a fight to get it back. 

Attorney Choi holds up a hand towards you, rendering you silent, but his eyes stay on their CEO. 

“I anticipated that already,” Gyu-uk laughs, a huff of air through his nose, “I’ll have the contract forwarded over for your review today. Satisfied?” 

“For now,” Attorney Choi nods, “where do we stand on our redlines?” 

It’s clear the conversation has shifted back to their employment contracts, and you make brief eye contact with Yunho and then Gyu-uk, “I’m sorry,” you interrupt, “should I step out?” 

He shakes his head, “Stay, we have a few more things to discuss.” 

Yunho separates your hands, shifting in his chair, and his hand finds a new home on your mid back. 

Their CEO looks to Attorney Choi and nods, “I am comfortable saying we have reached an agreement,”

You can practically feel the energy coming off the members at that sentence, and you glance to the side to see their faces. Hongjoong looks pleased and deeply relieved, and San and Seonghwa are grinning from their position at the far wall. 

Relief courses through you from Yunho. 

On his side you catch Mingi’s eyes, calm and betraying nothing, but you can see that he’s pleased and relieved too. Your eyes meet for the barest second, and in it he gives you a small, private smile. You can’t see the other members' expressions without twisting in your chair, but you imagine they’re feeling the same collective relief. 

“Can we agree on a five year term?” Gyu-uk continues, and you look back up. 

“Five years, with a salary review at three,” Attorney Choi says, completely calm and cool. 

There’s a pause. For a moment you wonder if this will push them back from the agreement and back into negotiations, but blissfully Kim Gyu-uk smiles. 

“You drive a hard bargain,” He says, reaching his hand across the table, “but I think we can agree to that.” 

Attorney Choi shakes his hand firmly. 

“Contracts will be ready for review by this afternoon,” Gyu-uk confirms, “if everything looks good, we can execute tomorrow and put this all behind us.”

Yunho lets out a heavy sigh of relief. 

“Dinner,” Gyu-uk says, “tomorrow after your recordings, my treat. We have much to celebrate.” 

In a snap the tension of the week is gone, and there’s a sudden rush of handshakes, hugs, the members erupting in a flurry of excitement all around you. You know from conversations with Yunho that they didn’t get everything they wanted in the renegotiation process, you know that’s how contracts work, but they got the important things. And you and Yunho got each other.

In the celebratory fray, Gyu-uk steps close to Yunho and claps him on the shoulder, “Now that that’s settled,” he says, “let’s have that talk,” 

Attorney Choi smoothly slides into the conversation, “Yes, let’s.” 

You glance between them. 

Gyu-uk nods and steps back, “Alright, everyone, I have some additional things to discuss with the happy couple,” 

Yunho leans in, “It’s okay, don’t worry.” 

You nod, but his words do nothing to soothe the strange sensation in your gut. 

“I’ll see everyone else for dinner tomorrow night,” He nods, “I’m glad we could reach an agreement, and I appreciate everyone’s additional time over the past week while we worked this through.” 

It’s the most professional and polite dismissal you’ve ever seen, but the meaning is clear. Gyu-uk wants the room cleared out, and he’s not waiting around for it to happen naturally. 

Hongjoong exchanges a quick word with Yunho as he steps out, “You good?” 

“Good,” He nods, “we’re fine,” 

Hongjoong nods, and then meets your eyes, “Glad to have you back, y/n,” 

“Me too,” You smile, “thank you, for everything, seriously,” 

He nods, shrugging a bit, “It’s nothing.” 

It wasn’t nothing, not at all. You know how many sleepless nights the members spent preparing for this moment, how many difficult conversations they had to get through. And while not every part of it was for you and Yunho, they put themselves on the line right alongside you both and you feel like you’ll never be able to thank them enough for that. 

After a moment, the room clears out, leaving you and your husband and your attorney, and a sea of empty chairs. 

Gyu-uk looks a little more serious this time, and he sighs as he takes a seat behind his desk. 

Nervous bubbles pop in your stomach. 

“I won’t lie to you,” He says, looking at Yunho, “you’ve put me in a hell of a position here, kid,” 

Yunho nods, “I know.” 

Gyu-uk waves you all down to a seat again and rubs his eyes, he’s tired too, you realize, “I want you to know, I would have agreed to dropping the clauses and having her back without the marriage. If you say you’re bonded, I personally believe that, and I can see it, it’s plain as day looking at the two of you.” 

Your heart thumps quickly in your chest. 

“In another life you would have made a good business man,” Gyu-uk laughs, “because this was one serious fucking ace of a negotiation tactic,”

He glances at you when he curses, “Excuse my language,” he says, but you shake your head to tell him it’s fine. 

“Sir,” Yunho takes your hand again, “I love my job, but you and your wife are soulmates, aren’t you?” 

Gyu-uk’s eyes flick up and he nods. 

That’s new information to you, and your breath seems to stay trapped in your chest anticipating Yunho’s next words. 

“Tell me,” Yunho says calmly, “what kind of a man would I be if I left this up to chance?” 

Emotion bubbles in your chest and you blink back another tug of tears. 

Gyu-uk sighs and leans back in his chair, “Point taken,” he says. 

“I stand by my choices,” Yunho adds, his thumb passing over the band of your wedding ring. 

“I know,” Gyu-uk nods, “and you better keep that mentality, because I don’t know if you both have thought this through, but what happens from here is going to be ugly.” 

You grip Yunho’s hand a little tighter. 

“We know,” Yunho says. 

“No,” Gyu-uk shakes his head, “you don’t know.” 

Yunho takes a breath, but Gyu-uk continues smoothly. 

“We’re going to take a serious hit from this,” He explains, “we’ll lose appearances, venues, brand deals. Fans are going to boycott, they’re going to say cruel things, girls are going to burn your photocards and say you betrayed them. Our revenue will take a dip, potentially a significant one, and that has ramifications of its own.” 

Yunho swallows tightly. 

Your cheeks heat with embarrassment at the honest scrutiny of his words. 

“What’s more than that,” Gyu-uk continues, “is what will happen to her.” 

Yunho’s posture broadens, defensive, his spine straighter as he takes in a breath to push back. 

“Her name, her family's names, where she lives, everything you’ve ever posted online will be scrutinized and picked through. That’s to say nothing of the fans that will cross the line offline; stalking, harassment, death threats,” 

Your breath feels thready, panicked. 

“Did you want this meeting just to scold them? Get to the point,” Attorney Choi interrupts, “They know the risks.” 

“Do you want that for her?” Gyu-uk continues. 

“Of course not,” Yunho’s jaw is set tightly. 

“You should have come to me first,” Gyu-uk says firmly, “I’ve known you since you were a boy, Yunho. I would have listened to you, and we could have made a plan for the two of you together,” 

Yunho shakes his head, “Sir, with all due respect I don’t know if I believe that. No matter how long we’ve known each other, I’m an idol on a rookie contract, and you’re still my CEO.” 

Gyu-uk regards him, his posture tight, and then he nods, “Maybe,” 

“‘Maybe’ wasn’t good enough for me,” Yunho says plainly, “and I may have let the company lead for me in the past, but this is about more than me now.” 

“I can understand that,” Gyu-uk concedes. 

Both of you wait for him to say more. 

“My point is,” Gyu-uk finally says, “you’ve put me on the back foot, and that’s not somewhere I enjoy being.” 

Yunho stays silent, unapologetic, but nods. 

“What I’m asking you now,” Gyu-uk says clearly, “after we’ve made our deals internally, is to buckle up for what we’re going to have to do.” 

The men on either side of you don’t say a word, and you glance between them before you finally speak up yourself, “Which would be?” 

Gyu-uk’s eyes click to yours, assessing, “We need to be on the right side of this story. You’ve worked with idols for years, are you clear on what that means?” 

“You want to announce it?” Your eyes widen a little. 

You were ready for the story to break at some point, and you and Yunho had agreed that being together was worth the risk of that, but going public this quickly still strikes you in the chest. 

“Immediately,” Gyu-uk nods. 

Yunho shakes his head, “Absolutely not,” he leans forwards, “we have time to figure things out,” 

“Yunho,” Gyu-uk stares at him with a withering look, almost fatherly in amusement at Yunho’s naivete, “you can’t make a move this strong and then concede before the check mate.”

Yunho’s jaw tightens. 

“Catch me up here,” You rest a hand on Yunho’s leg and lean forwards to keep Gyu-uk focused on you. 

“This past week,” He explains, “we had discussed a strategy for how to handle the story of your relationship breaking. Standardly, the company line for dating scandals that don’t produce definitive proof is silence. When caught in something more serious or undeniable, there’s usually a lot of apologies from the idol, groveling, and again, silence from the company. In both of those scenarios there is no real room for the couple to be together.” 

“Okay,” You nod, hand sliding to find Yunho’s. 

“Marriage is different,” He continues, “it has a different public perception, so do soulmate bonds. Marriage is also legally binding, which I know both of you are very clearly aware of,” 

Yunho bristles a little, but Gyu-uk isn’t wrong, it’s exactly why you did it now. 

“There are three options as I see it,” He holds your gaze, and something tells me that these three things were made very clear to Yunho this week even if you’re still in the dark. 

“Option one,” Gyu-uk says, “we renegotiate and Yunho leaves the company on positive terms, leaving you both free to pursue whatever lives you want together.” 

Your breath quickens. 

“It’s clear from this week that option is not viable, but it is the path that would afford you both the most privacy.” 

“What’s option two?” You prompt him. 

There’s a strange flicker of appreciation in his face for your directness and he continues, “Option two is that we wait for you both to be caught and then run the company playbook. It’s not a matter of if that will happen but when given marriage licenses are public record and people outside of this room are aware of your relationship.” 

You nod. 

“Option three is to go public now,” 

“We don’t have to announce it right away,” Yunho presses, “we can wait a little while, figure out the best way, this isn’t,” 

“Yunho,” Gyu-uk interrupts softly, “we do, and you know that.” 

“What do you suggest?” Your thumb strokes over the back of Yunho’s hand, but you keep your focus on the conversation. 

“I have a larger plan put together with the PR team,” He explains, and then looks to Yunho, “but we are willing to take this risk with you for the good of the group. We have worked together since you were trainees, and I hope you understand that the reason we are even having this conversation is because I genuinely, genuinely believe this group is stronger with you in it.” 

Yunho nods, his eyes flicking down. 

“The company will announce it,” Gyu-uk says smoothly, “very clearly and in no uncertain terms you will have our support in that announcement. You will need to address your fans in a variety of posts, but the PR team thinks starting off with something personal on your Instagram is the right path.” 

“From there?” Your husband asks. 

“We remain positive and we handle the questions as they come,” Gyu-uk offers, “we’re wading into unprecedented territory here, but we will handle it all head on.” 

Yunho nods and then looks up sharply, “Does her name need to be in the announcement?” 

“Yunho,” You murmur softly. 

No matter how ready you both were for the oncoming storm the day of your wedding, it’s clear that here and now all he can think about is the risks, the worst case scenarios. 

“No,” Gyu-uk says, “and we’d like to keep your relationship as private as possible, not just for you, we really do not want to stoke things further and invite more inquiry. Y/n, your name will be public one way or another, but it won’t come from our announcement. You should prepare yourself for when it happens, but we’ll provide you with as much time as we can.” 

“Thank you,” You murmur. 

“She’ll need security,” Attorney Choi speaks up. 

Yunho nods, his hand tightening on yours. 

“That’s a given,” Gyu-uk says, “if we’re doing this, we’re doing it right.” 

Relief bleeds through your chest. 

“That being said,” He continues, “there is a chance this story is uncontrollable, that this industry is not ready for the change you want them to be ready for.” 

Your heart stutters in your chest. 

“We can only do so much,”

Yunho nods and looks from you to his CEO, “If that happens, I already told you, I will resign and I’ll make sure the members know it’s my choice. They won’t follow me,” 

Your eyes widen, your hand tight on his. 

“Yunho,” His attorney warns. 

“We will do everything we can to prevent that and avoid that,” Gyu-uk says earnestly, “that is not a path any of us want to walk. I give you my word on that,”

“This needs to be in writing,” Attorney Choi says, “if you want a stipulation for their relationship have an attorney draft-,” 

“No,” Yunho shakes his head, “no more contracts. I’m trusting you on this, and I give you my word too,” 

The assess each other quietly for a moment, and then Gyu-uk nods, “Alright,” 

Yunho’s hand rests on your back, “When do you intend to announce, then?” 

“We’re on a bit of a time clock with the next comeback,” Gyu-uk says, “but we’ll go to print on Thursday of next week. We’ll work through the language this week, and then Wednesday night you both will leave Seoul for a few days until the brunt of it blows over.” 

“Leave Seoul?” You ask.

”My brother has a house in Jeju. It’s private, rarely used, and far, far away from any newspapers or fans who would want to show up and harass you,” He explains, “consider it a wedding present,” 

You blink.

He sighs and then leans forwards, “Think of it as a way to get out of town and stay offline for a few days,” he says, “whatever the response is, it won’t be easy. Take a few days to yourselves and get your heads on straight, this is going to be a long process with a lot of publicity to manage. Let us handle it and get a few days alone,” 

You nod, and Yunho says, “What else?” 

“Nothing else,” Gyu-uk assures, “you both need to meet with Harin, and then you both need to lay low and let this play out.” 

Harin, the head of their PR team, was always available to nip and tuck a story into just the right language to sway public perception, and you’re not surprised in the least that this is where you’d be heading next. 

“If we’re doing it that soon,” Yunho says, “we need to discuss the apartments.” 

“What?” You turn your head, studying Yunho’s profile. 

“I was going to say the same thing,” Attorney Choi adds, “it would certainly make security easier.” 

Gyu-uk only looks at him.

“What apartment?” You ask again. 

Yunho turns his head to you, “We’re able to get our own apartments now,” he explains, “without managers living in unit as long as the building has approved security protocols and is within a reasonable distance to management and the offices,” 

You remember that clause in the paperwork you read, “Right,” 

He smiles, “I’m also contractually able to have a roommate,” 

You’re sure the surprise is all over your face. 

“So,” He turns back to Gyu-uk, “if we’re concerned about people stalking her or harassing her, I think she’s a lot safer living with me in a building that has security,” 

Gyu-uk sighs. 

“And I think you know better than anyone,” Yunho adds, “how much better I will be at my job if I’m not unnecessarily separated from my bonded soulmate,” 

For a moment, Gyu-uk shows nothing on his face but calm calculation, and then he nods, a small smile pulling at the edge of his lip, “I agree.” 

Yunho’s hand closes on yours, “Good,” 

Gyu-uk rubs his tired eyes again and then nods, “Let me speak with security, there’s not much time for us to get an apartment sorted before the announcement, but until we can, you’re of course free to stay with y/n at her apartment or at your dorm. But communicate clearly with management, no driving yourself or public transportation,” 

“y/n walks to work,” Yunho adds. 

“Not anymore,” Gyu-uk shakes his head, “not until we know what this is going to be like, is that fair?” 

“Absolutely,” Yunho agrees, “whatever we need to do.” 

All you can do is nod, once again your head spinning at the amount of information you’re being dropped into. 

“Alright,” He leans towards the telecom on his desk and presses a button, calling out to reception. You listen as he sets up a call with the head of the security team and as he directs Harin and the PR team to set up in the small conference room down the hall. 

“Last thing,” Gyu-uk says as he stands, clearly signaling the end of this conversation, “rings off, until the story breaks.” 

Yunho nods, “Fair enough.” 

“Stay discreet for a few more days,” He advises, “and then after that, well, we’ll take it as it comes.”

The meeting ends with more handshakes, with both of you being ushered into a conference room with the PR team who are more than prepared to discuss strategy at length. You don’t have a moment to debrief with Yunho, to drop your smile and take a breath and ask him how you got here to this result all of a sudden on a Thursday. Instead, you’re at another conference room table with a team of people who seem to know more about social media than you could have ever fathomed. 

Harin is a small woman, but within two minutes you can tell she’s a fearsome adversary when it comes to arguing and spinning a story. You’ve never been the subject of her inquiries before, but all of a sudden you’re center stage. 

For hours you pour over details in ways you couldn’t even imagine. Yunho seems unphased by the directness and the detail in their questions, but they peel apart every facet of your life and your connections until there’s no stone unturned, no surprise story about your life that could break without them knowing and having a pre-planned response. 

You don’t have any school drama, no history of bullying or bad behavior. Your relationship history isn’t all that scandalous, only one bad breakup, but it was him who cheated and not you. Your relationship with your parents is described as unfortunate, but not unfamiliar in their line of work. The PR team files these little facts away for a rainy day, detailed and meticulous in their every follow up. 

Harin is clearly pleased that you’re at least moderately attractive, but you watch the way they try to label you and market you, your tattoos at least ‘consistent’ and ‘feminine’ enough to be deemed trendy and artistic. She’s appreciative of your personal style, but when she suggests layering in particular designer pieces to look more elevated you start to think that Harin and her team can only communicate in backhanded compliments. 

By the end they’ve dissected you open. 

It isn’t until one of the PR team members asks you a pointed question about your gay sister that real annoyance flickers through you and Yunho interrupts, making it very clear that Hana and Em are not only off limits, they’ll be publicly supported by both of you if anyone publishes anything negative about them. 

Once again, Harin takes it all in stride, a perfect story and a perfect response for everything. 

It isn’t until the meeting breaks and the room clears out that you get a moment alone with Yunho to digest any of it at all. 

In the sudden quiet of the conference room, Yunho shifts back to work, fielding a litany of texts, his eyes tired as he catches up what he’s missed and invariably needs to make up from being trapped in board rooms all day, and you stay quiet. Your own gut is churning with discomfort, but you bite the inside of your cheek, and you wait. 

Eventually, he drops the phone to the side and sighs, his office chair spinning towards you as he reaches out to take your hand, “I’m sorry,” he says, “you must be so exhausted,” 

“Me? I’m fine,” 

“I didn’t realize they’d take you through all that today,” He admits, “Harin’s just thorough,” 

“Mm,” You nod, “it’s fine,”

He fixes you with a look, finally picking up on your flat tone, “How are you really? And don’t say fine,” 

You can’t lie, not to him. 

He squeezes your hand and you let out an exhausted breath of air, “It’s been a long day,” 

“I know,” He soothes. 

Your chest throbs a little and you pull back from him, “Yun,” you murmur, “why didn’t you tell me about the apartment? About you leaving the group if this goes badly?” 

His back straightens, “What do you mean?” 

“You have to be honest,” You sigh, “you have to talk to me.” 

“You’re upset,” He observes, his brows ticking up in surprise. 

“I’m not,” You say it, even though deep down you both know it’s not the perfect truth, “but you can’t keep handling everything by yourself and expect me to just be on board,” 

His face falls, “Are you uncomfortable with what we decided today? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” You take his hands in yours, “you’re handling all of this so well, but Yunho, what was the plan if Gyu-uk didn’t ask for me to be in the meeting? Would you have told me we were moving in together after getting the keys?” 

“y/n,” He shakes his head, “that’s not it,” 

“Listen,” You settle him, catching his cheek in your hand, “I love you. I love that you’re trying to protect me from this, and I know this is new for both of us, but this is our lives together, we need to make decisions together.” 

“We are,” He presses, “I’m telling you everything, you read all the contracts, I’m,” 

“Yunho,” You press, “stop,” 

“You are upset,” He says. 

“Okay, fine,” You lean back, “I’m upset,” 

“Tell me,” He nods, expectant. 

“I’m trying to!” The words slip out, exasperation through your tone. 

Yunho looks surprised, but he just nods, “Go on,” 

“You think you’re talking to me about everything?” You ask the question calmly, clearly. 

He nods again.  

“Baby,” You shake your head, “you’re keeping me in the loop, but that’s it. You tell me what’s happening after the fact, and then you plug me in to make a decision when you need one,” 

“That’s not fair,” 

“I waited for you for days after I got fired,” You tell him gently, and his face falls, “and when I came back everything was already in motion and we were married before I could even blink. I am so, so happy to be your wife, please don’t misunderstand me,” 

“You regret it?” His heart hammers in his chest. 

“Never,” You slide closer to him, “never, ever. Listen to me,” 

His eyes study yours, his mouth snapping shut. 

“You are making big decisions about our life together without me,” You tell him gently, “I think because you want to shield me from all the bad parts about your life as an idol, or maybe because you think it’s your job as my partner, as my husband, to take care of the hard things so I only get the good parts.” 

His eyes drop. 

“I trust you,” You murmur, “with my life, my whole heart, but I don’t want a marriage like that.” 

His brows draw together, his hands tightening on yours. 

“I want you to tell me our options,” You continue, “I want to decide things together. I want to hear about the bad shit so we can face it together, get through it together.” 

He doesn’t look up. 

“If this all goes badly,” You tell him softly, “I don’t want you pulling the ripcord on your career because you decide you don’t want to put me through something. We’re bonded, we’re married, we’re going through it together no matter what, but I want you to talk to me so we can decide how to get through it together.” 

He sighs, dropping his head into his hands. 

You insist, “I know you’re just trying to keep me safe,” 

He nods. 

“I promise you, I can handle this,” You murmur, “whatever people say about me, whatever people do to me, I don’t care.” 

His head lifts at your words, his eyes flaring with sudden intensity, and his hands close over yours, “No one’s doing anything to you.” 

You can feel the sudden pit of fear in his body, and you shake your head, “Yunho, breathe.” 

His lips pull into a frown and he leans back in his chair, your hands still secured in his. Something’s frozen on the tip of his tongue, you don’t need a soulmate bond to tell you that. 

“What?” You murmur softly, squeezing his hand. 

 His knee bounces, nervous, strained energy bursting out of him until he finally says it, “Did you know that two years ago some fans, stalkers, put GPS trackers on our managers' cars?” 

You nod, “I heard,” 

“Did you know our old dorms were broken into?” He asks calmly, finally turning back to look at you. 

Slowly, you shake your head. 

“We came home after promotions and there were gifts in Yeosang’s room,” He explains, “and letters. A whole box of love letters that started off like fan mail and turned into threats,” 

“Against Yeosang?” Your eyes widen. 

He shakes his head, “No,” he murmurs, “against everyone else. The company was keeping them apart, the management was conspiring against them, the members were jealous of their connection,” 

“Jesus,” You breathe. 

“She was very sick,” Yunho explains, “but very fixated and very motivated.” 

“What happened?” 

“We had security footage, the company turned it into police and she was arrested,” He explains, “but that’s not the point,” 

Your stomach sinks. 

“I want you,” He laces your fingers together, “and I want to be with you in front of the world, all of that is true.” 

You nod. 

“That doesn’t mean I’m not terrified of what that means,” He confesses, “I would shield you from the cruel things people are going to say online because I love you, and I know what that kind of attention feels like, but,” 

You squeeze his hands, your chest aching as he opens up to you more and more. 

With a deep breath he shakes his head, “Sweetheart,” he murmurs, “when I say I’m terrified, it’s not about what people could say. It’s what people could do,” 

“Yunho,” You manage.

“I wake up terrified that someone will find your address,” You can feel his heartbeat thundering in your own chest, “that someone who doesn’t know me, but thinks they love me, will find you and hurt you or take you away from me in a way that I c-can’t,”

 His breath hitches on the word and he shakes his head, pushing those thoughts out of his mind, “I didn’t tell you because I don’t want you to be scared, but there are things we have to do to make sure you’re safe once people find out about us, and I won’t risk your safety.” 

“Come here,” You pull him close into a hurried embrace between the chairs, “you think I don’t worry about the same things?” 

He exhales heavily against your hair. 

“I’m not naive,” You murmur, “I’ve worked with you for years, I know what some fans can be like.” 

“Then,” 

“I’m safer if you talk to me,” You pull back to see his eyes, “we’re stronger together and that includes making decisions together. Trust me to know when something doesn’t feel right, let me carry this with you.” 

“y/n,” He murmurs, his expression pained, “some of this job is so ugly, so horrible. I just wanted to keep that from touching you,” 

“I know,” 

“If anything ever happened to you,” He shakes his head, cupping your cheeks.

“I know,” You assure him softly, “but nothing bad is going to happen to me,” 

He just looks at you.

“Yun,” You murmur, “I trust you to keep me safe, I trust your judgement with the company, the extra security, all of it. I just don’t want to be in the dark, I don’t want to be unaware and I don’t want you killing yourself with all this pressure.” 

He sinks forward, his lips connecting with your forehead, but he nods, “Okay,” 

“If we’re together,” You murmur, letting the feeling of his lips ground you to him, “then whatever happens can’t divide us,” 

He nods again, his shoulders sinking, “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “I’m so sorry,” 

“It’s okay,” You pull back, meeting his warm eyes, “we’re okay,” 

“Are we?” He checks, fingers soft on your cheeks. 

“Always,” You assure him. 

He smiles slightly, just a twitch of his lips, his dark brown eyes full of tenderness, “You’re everything to me,” he kisses you softly, “I’ll do better, I promise,” 

You shake your head, taking his hands in yours, “Me too,” you tell him gently, “we’re still just figuring this out. Six months ago we were co-workers, now we’re married,” 

He smiles properly now, “That’s true,”

“And it’s not as if I had the best track record with relationships,” You add, “figuring all of this out takes time, learning how to be the right kind of partner for each other takes time,” 

He hums, appreciative of your words, “I always thought it would come naturally with a soulmate,” he murmurs, “my parents always said it took work, but I never really understood that until you,” 

“Yeah,” 

He nods, sitting up a bit in his chair and sighing, “Together,” he says, “with everything.” 

“That’s all I’m asking for,” You reply gently. 

The tightness in both of your chests relaxes, the steadiness of your heartbeats in time bringing you both back down to center. 

After a moment, Yunho grins wide though and looks back up at you, “Was that our first fight?” 

A laugh bursts out of your lips and you cover your mouth with your hand, “I don’t know if that counts as a fight,” 

“You were upset,” He points out, “I upset you,” 

“I feel like fights have a lot more shouting, we figured that out pretty quickly,” You smile, leaning back in your chair. 

His brows pinch together, head cocking to the side at your words. 

“What?” You ask at his confused expression. 

“Yeobo,” He says slowly, “if that’s your definition of a fight, then I guess we’re never going to have one.” 

His confusion makes no sense to you, and you laugh reflexively, “That’s optimistic,” 

“I don’t shout,” He says, his eyes studying your expression, “not really at anyone, but definitely not at you.” 

“I don’t know,” You shrug, “marriage is hard, things happen. As long as we work through it though,” 

Yunho shakes his head again, “We’re not going to fight like that,” he says gently, “we’ll disagree sometimes and maybe we’ll hurt each other by mistake, but I’ll never raise my voice to you. I don’t do that,” 

Your expression falters. 

In the back of your mind there’s a steady image, your parents face to face, their expressions contorted in anger, shoulders squared off and tense, a broken vase at their feet on the kitchen tile. Hana hiding behind your legs, her small hands gripping your jeans, your body taut with a fraying cord of panic.  

Yunho’s hand gently smooths over yours, “My parents never yelled at each other,” he explains softly, and you wonder how much of your sudden thoughts he could see, feel the shape of, “even when things were difficult. Talking to each other like that,” he shakes his head, “that’s not something I want for us, you won’t get that from me.” 

You manage a nod, your throat tight. 

“So,” He smiles, rubbing the back of your hand with the pad of his thumb, “our first fight, I think we did pretty good,” 

You release a soft puff of air through your lips, his smile infectious, bringing you back once again from the bad memory, “Yeah, I guess we did,” 

“How can I make it up to you?” He asks, pressing a kiss to your lips, “After two weeks of being a controlling ass,”

You roll your eyes, “You weren’t being an ass,” you assure him, “and you’re forgiven, honestly,” 

He brushes past that though, “Dinner,” he says, “Gyu-uk said lay low for the week, but I have my phone back. Let’s do takeout over FaceTime?” 

You grin, nodding, “I’d like that,” 

“I’ll tell you all about this week,” He adds. 

“Mhm,” 

He stands and stretches his tired limbs, “It was eventful,” 

“I thought so,” You stand with him, packing away what little things you have out. 

“Harin said she’d email over the first draft of the announcement tonight too,” He adds, “let’s review it together?” 

You nod, “Perfect,” 

He starts to reach for the door and then doubles back, “Oh,” he says, making a face, “I almost forgot.” 

You watch as he reaches for his wedding ring, twisting it off his finger. 

“Can you keep this safe for me?” He holds it out to you, “Give it back to me on our way to Jeju?” 

You take the warm loop of metal and slide it onto your thumb, the only place it’s sure not to slip off, “Of course,” 

“I have to get to practice,” He murmurs, leaning in and kissing you one last time, “but I love you. Text me when you get home safely?” 

“I will,” You nod, still caught in his gravitational pull as he reaches properly for the door this time. 

Yunho walks you out the same way he walked you in, with a hand on your back, making sure you’re safely in the elevator before he finally leaves you. 

You start the walk home with both wedding bands securely around your fingers, and only then do you allow the pure feeling of relief to flood through your body. 

It’s done.

Finally, finally done. 

By the time you’re home, your face hurts from smiling. You’re dialing Iseul the second you’re tucked away where no one can hear you. 

For the first time in months, a conversation with your best friend isn’t laden with panic and what-ifs. For the first time you’re both laughing, practically giddy. You diagnose every aspect of what being on the Xikers team means for your career, you joke about getting her pulled over onto that team with you so you have the same schedules again. She tells you all about her confrontation with Eunji, the way she dressed her down in front of Dahan and made it perfectly clear she wasn’t a welcome member of their inner circle. You speculate how many days before she quits. You fall apart into peels of laughter at the idea of her quitting the day of the wedding announcement. 

You talk about the honeymoon like it’s a real one, not an island getaway to avoid the press. You try not to think about the fact that you and Yunho are about to change this industry forever. Instead, you just talk to your best friend, in a way that you sorely, sorely missed. 

While you talk, you play with Yunho’s ring on your finger, twisting it this way and that, carving another indent into your skin just for him. You keep it safe, guarding it the same way you’ve been guarding both your hearts since brushing his cheek in Berlin. 

───────────────────────── ✧₊⁺───────────────────────

This part of Jeju is quiet in the off season. 

Nestled along the shoreline of Seogwipo, you and Yunho wait in a house far too big for two people, but blissfully far away from any other properties, overlooking the dark blue water of the South Sea. Despite the privacy and romantic scenery though, you’re both on edge after arriving late last night and having hours alone with your thoughts before the public announcement. 

You’re still wrapped up in bed at ten the next morning, hitting refresh on the Ateez official Twitter account over and over, nervously double checking the clock and your WiFi connection just to be sure you haven’t missed it. 

“Is it up yet?” Yunho asks softly, two cups of coffee in his hands as he walks back into the large corner bedroom, his wedding ring back in its proper place on his finger. 

“Not yet,” You check your phone again for good measure. 

He sets the coffees on the nightstand and slips back under the fluffy white duvet cover, sliding towards the middle to sit next to you, “They’re probably double checking the language,” 

“Yeah,”

“It’s going to be alright,” He wraps his arm around your back, “we’re going to be alright,” 

“I know,” You breathe, “it’s just a risk,” 

“It’ll be worth it,” He promises, kissing your temple softly. 

You nod, and then the phone buzzes in your hands. 

Both of your eyes snap down and you tap the push notification from Twitter alerting you to the tweet you’ve been waiting for. 

Your heart starts to pick up in your chest as you tap the link to the official announcement, even though you already know exactly what the text will say. You and Yunho both had given your consent on it yesterday before you left Seoul, but that was when it was just a draft in an email. 

This is real. 

Both of your eyes flick over the words. 

KQ Entertainment Artist Announcement 

Hello,

This is KQ Entertainment. 

We would like to provide an update regarding one of our artists, ATEEZ Jeong Yunho. 

Earlier this week, ATEEZ member Yunho was married in a private ceremony, supported by his family and friends. The company offers sincere congratulations and well wishes to the couple. 

While we apologize for the sudden news and any concern this may cause fans, we ask for your kind understanding and support for Yunho at this time. Yunho will continue participating in all ATEEZ activities with the full support of KQ Entertainment. 

We will continue to prioritize the well-being of our artists both professionally and personally, and request that fans do the same. At this time, we request privacy for the couple. 

Thank you.

Yunho takes your hand and gives you a squeeze. 

“It’s really out there,” You breathe. 

He nods, “It is,” 

“How long until they figure out who I am, do you think?” You chew the inside of your lip, dropping the phone back onto your knees, the announcement still open. 

“Not long,” He murmurs, “your socials are all private?”

He’s asked that numerous times over the past few days of preparations, but you smile, “Yes, Yunho,” 

He exhales slowly and wraps his arm back around you, tucking you into his chest. 

Preparation for this announcement had been meticulous, the past week spent quibbling over every word choice and potential outcome.

To maintain as much privacy as possible, you and Hana and Em had all made your social media accounts private, and then you and Yunho had gone to Jeju to weather the storm and stay out of sight.

Yunho kisses your hair gently and brings you out of your thoughts, “Our management should be posting my announcement soon too,” 

You nod. 

Yunho leans to the side and grabs his phone off the nightstand and you watch as he lights up the screen to show dozens of notifications already. He swipes the phone onto Do Not Disturb and swallows audibly, and you feel the onset of nerves in his chest. 

“We’re okay,” You wrap your arms around his middle, pressing a soft kiss to his throat. 

“Mhm,” He holds you closer, “I know,” 

You watch him navigate to Instagram, opening up his own profile, and he nods when he sees the new photo in his grid, “It’s up,” 

He hasn’t let you read it yet, and you shift in his arms to look up at him, “Can I?” 

He nods, placing his phone into your hands before sliding out of bed, “I’m going to get some water,” 

It’s a thinly veiled excuse, but you don’t press him. What he’s written must be deeply personal if he doesn’t want to watch you read it, and you let him go. 

He gives you one soft smile and then disappears again. 

Left alone with his phone, you take a deep breath and tap on the first photo in his grid. 

The post is simple, one single photo of Yunho. He’s far from the camera, sitting along a large stone wall overlooking the ocean in Japan. His head is turned slightly to the left so you can make out his profile and there’s a distinct, soft smile on his face. 

You tap open the text of the post and start to read. 

Atiny, I have something personal to share, more personal than anything I have ever shared before. 

While I know what I am about to tell you may cause concern for me or may upset you, you who I consider precious and beloved, I ask that you please read everything I have to say and remember that I am still your Yunho. 

Late last year, at an unexpected time and in an unexpected place, I accidentally bumped into a woman and knew the moment we touched that she was my soulmate. While she and I have known each other professionally for many years, we did not know that we shared this connection with one another until very recently. In complete honesty, which is what I think you all deserve, we did not know what we should do or how we could move forward and live honestly if we decided to hide this from the world. 

Those of you who have been lucky enough to find your soulmates will understand how difficult these decisions are, and how deeply your life is changed by finding your steadfast partner in life. 

We chose to be honest with our families, our friends, and our company and we will be forever grateful that we have received nothing but kindness and support. We chose to be married so that we could live honestly and openly in your eyes too.

As an idol, I have spent my life receiving love from you. Because of this, there are things I believe I should endure so that I may become a better Yunho and give more to my members and you, our Atiny. Those things are worth enduring to bring you a better Ateez, and I have taken personal pride in being called your happiness, I always will. But there are limits to what I think is fair for us as idols to endure, painful things that go beyond the bounds of what is normal for other professions and for what I believe is right. Idols conceal their relationships for years even after retiring from public life, and those who have announced their relationships have been met in the past with difficult words.

I speak for myself when I say it has been the greatest honor of my life to be a member of Ateez and to be able to feel love and support from our Atiny every day. But it would be dishonest to you and to myself if I did not stand up for my own happiness, and it would be both unfair and unkind to ask my partner, my soulmate, to hide herself away behind the shadow of my career out of fear. 

To my Atiny, I will always be grateful to you for the love and care you have shown me. You have taught me how to live well and how to love well, and it is because of you that have become the bright, energetic person that I am today. Now that I have met my soulmate, I can share that love with her too, someone that I can rely on, someone who helps carry me, and someone who I can spend the rest of my life with. 

I hope that you can give us your understanding and your consideration. I will always be your Ateez Yunho, and I will never stop working hard to be an idol you can embrace and be proud of. 

Atiny, you have been and will always be my happiness, but she is my heart. I can only hope that you can take care of us both for the years to come. 

You take a sharp breath as you finish reading, tears spilling over and splashing onto the screen, your eyes looping over the final sentence over and over again. 

“Was it alright?” Yunho’s voice is gentle, a little fearful, and your head snaps up to see him lingering in the threshold watching you carefully. 

“Alright?” You wipe the tears away with the backs of your hands, “Yunho, it was perfect, I don’t care what anyone says about us, I can’t believe you wrote all that,” 

His posture softens, “Yeah?” 

“Yes,” You take a breath, reaching for him, “I love you,” 

He climbs back into bed with you, arms wrapping around you, “I love you,” 

“It was so perfect,”

He nods, kissing your forehead, “I just wanted to be honest,” 

You lean into him, folding into a hug, until you’re both sliding back down into the bed and cuddling close. 

“It’s out there now,” He says after a few minutes, “everyone’s probably talking about it.” 

“Probably,” You nod, smoothing a hand up and down his arm, “but we’ve got this.” 

He nods, a ragged breath leaving his chest as he falls away from you onto his back, “Yeah,” 

You can feel the slight knot of tension in his gut, but you know he’s trying to stay strong and positive for you. Cuddling into his side again you kiss his chest, “Let’s let it be,” you murmur, “we’ll just hideaway right here,” 

His arm wraps around you, “Right here?” 

“Mhm,” You snuggle closer if it’s at all possible, “just you and me and this big bed. Ateez who?” 

That gets a laugh, and he turns into you, carding a hand through your hair, “Just you and me,” 

“Mhm,” You kiss his chest and he lets his head fall back to the pillow.

Your eyes flutter shut, sinking into the sound of his heart and the feeling of his warm skin. If you’re being honest, your mind is going a mile a minute too, but you focus on breathing in time with him. 

Time passes around you, both of you quiet and resting together, caught in your own individual thoughts. You keep your eyes closed, and for a moment you think Yunho might be falling asleep, his breath evening out and his arm relaxed on your back, but then a heavy pang of shame echoes through the bond and you blink your eyes open. 

The first thing you see is his phone as he quietly scrolls and studies something on the screen.  

“Hey,” You reach up, “what are you doing?” 

“Just checking,” He admits. 

Your eyes flick to the screen, and you see the comment that got a reaction from him. 

I should have known never to trust you. Too nice. Too sweet. It’s always a lie. 

“Stop,” You snatch the phone from his hand, locking the screen fast and putting it to the side. 

“I’m fine,” He swallows tightly. 

“You don’t seem fine,” You murmur, pushing yourself up to lean on his chest and look down at him. 

“I just,” His eyes flick away, “I wish there was a way to be with you that didn’t mean disappointing all of my fans, but they hate me now,” 

“They do not.” You argue. 

“They do,” He shakes his head, “you haven’t read the comments.” 

“The post went up ten minutes ago,” You counter, “the only people commenting are people that have you on post notifications, and I’d bet more than half of those people are the ones who will be the most mad,” 

“y/n,” He sighs. 

“Give it time,” You use the words he’s been using all week, “come here,” 

Pushing his phone farther to the side, you slide up on his chest and tug his mouth to yours. 

“Mm,” He laughs gently against your lips, “What are you doing?”

“It’s a honeymoon, right?” You kiss him again. 

“Yeah, but,” He grips your hips as you kiss him again, cutting off his words. 

“Let me make you feel better,” You murmur, peppering kisses down his throat, “take your mind off things.” 

“Oh,” He blinks as you shimmy down his body, “baby, I’m okay,” 

“Soulmate bond, remember?” You say, “I can tell when you’re stressed.” 

He swallows, the bob of his Adam’s apple shifting under your lips. 

“I think we could both use the distraction,” You admit. 

You feel him soften under your body at that. 

Slowly, you separate your body from his and shift down to the bed between his open legs. His eyes are wide, a pretty flush already across his nose and cheeks, his chest rising and falling more quickly with the rapid onset of his arousal. 

He’s not fully hard yet, but you felt him start to get there at just the suggestion of sex, a firm press against your belly as you slid down over his body. As you peel away his boxers though, your hand ghosting over his cock to tease him, he starts to stiffen up fully, the muscles in his thighs and abdomen twitching at your touch. 

“Sweetheart,” His hands clench down on the duvet, “you’re killing me,” 

“I’ve barely done anything,” You tease him. 

“Doesn’t matter,” He shakes his head, “I think I’m Pavloved to get hard whenever you touch me,” 

You giggle, shaking your head at his words, “Oh yeah?” 

He hisses as your hand closes around his cock more firmly, his hips jumping, “Mhm,” 

“If that were true, wouldn’t you be hard all the time?” You tease him. 

“I basically am,” He smiles down at you, watching the way your hand strokes up and down over him, “you’re very distracting,” 

“Hmm,” You shift downwards in the bedding so that you’re laying on your front between his legs, propped up on your elbows as you continue to tease him, “that sounds difficult,” 

He snorts a gentle laugh, “I wouldn’t say wanting to fuck my wife all the time is a hardship,” 

Arousal bubbles up at his words and you can feel your face heating, “Well,” you murmur, grazing your nails up his abdomen and pushing up his t-shirt, “it’s a good thing you married me then,” 

“Why’s that?” His voice goes a little breathy as you cup his balls. 

“I’m pretty insatiable,” You press a kiss to his inner thigh, “I need a husband who can keep up,” 

He laughs again, his eyes growing hotter, tongue resting cheekily against his upper teeth, “I’ll show you ‘keeping up’,”

“I know you will,” You kiss him again, “we have days to keep ourselves busy,” 

“And distracted,” He groans lightly as you graze the underside of his shaft with your fingers again. 

“Exactly,” You kiss the velvet head of his cock and watch as his mouth falls open. 

“God,” He sighs.

“Just relax,” You murmur, teasing him slowly with a lap of your tongue, “forget about everything else,” 

He’s quiet at that, and when you search the bond you feel his tight hesitation. 

“Just be here with me, baby,” You touch him more, hands up and down his thighs, another lick, the teasing promise of your mouth, “fuck everything that isn’t you and me in this bed.” 

His breath catches, and you answer the sound by finally sliding your mouth down over his leaking cock. You start slow, practiced and measured, gentle bobs of your head up and down as you focus your tongue on his tip, the taste of his precum already salty and hot on your tongue. 

You lavish your mouth over him, focused on ridding him of any feeling but pleasure and need. Slowly you increase the pace, dropping your mouth down further, your nails scratching lovely lines into his thighs, doubling down on any touch that pulls a breathy noise from his lips. 

Despite his sounds, how you touch him, how you taste him, the knot of tension in his gut stays rock steady. You can feel his mind elsewhere. He’s tense, he’s stressed, and there’s an undercurrent of guilt and shame that you just can’t seem to shake out of him no matter how tender you are with your tongue. 

You know what he needs in a surprising pang of clarity, and strangely, you want it just as much as he does. 

You pull back from his cock to take a breath, and without a glance up at him, you find his hands with yours and draw them close. 

He sucks in a sharp breath as you guide his hands to your head, and his voice is hoarse when he says, “Are you sure?” 

You nod, eyes flicking up to his, “I trust you,” 

He studies your face for a moment, and then his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He swallows tightly, and you feel his fingers sink pleasantly into your hair. 

“This okay?” He checks, his fingers tightening against your scalp just a fraction. 

It’s been years since you’ve allowed anyone to touch you like this, but Yunho’s hands feel perfect. 

It feels good. 

You nod again, your heartbeat quickening in your chest in anticipation.

“If you want me to stop,” He brushes one hand over your hair, keeping it back from your face, “tap my thigh, I’ll let go,” 

“I trust you,” You echo it again, and then you dip back down to take his cock deeply in your mouth, his hands heavy on your head. 

He groans earnestly this time, like he can’t stop the sound from ripping out of his chest, and you know he’s restraining himself still but you can feel his satisfaction in the way his fingertips press down. 

“Jesus,” He manages as you bob your head back up and then down, sinking him as far down your throat as you can, “baby,” 

You stay focused on his cock, teasing him with your tongue, sharp sucks, humming sensations at the velvet tip. 

His hands stay gentle, but present, taking it at your pace and letting you drive. 

When you pull off to take in a breath, you pant out one word, “More,” 

His body freezes, his breath caught in his chest, but you’re already back to sucking him sweetly, and he can barely contain himself as he watches you give everything you have to his cock. 

Slowly, experimentally, Yunho applies more pressure to your head, pushing you down on him just a little to see how you’ll take it. 

Your shoulders relax, and you let him push. This normally scares you, it makes you panic and scramble away with anyone else, but with him? After everything? It’s perfect and dizzying, and all you feel is overwhelming care from his side of the bond. 

You go lax in his hands the more he guides you, and you can feel his hips aching to move under your hands. 

You moan, silently begging him for more, when he stops things.

“F-fuck,” He pulls his hips back, drawing his cock from your lips, “come here, baby,” 

Dazed, you lift up to look at him, “What?” 

“Come here,” He beckons you up to him, “I want you closer,” 

His hands slide under your upper arms, gently tugging you towards him and you climb over his thigh, following his direction until you’re kneeling at his side, your knees by his hips. 

He shifts up in the bed until he’s somewhat seated, reclined against the pillows and headboard, and then he reaches out and cups your cheek, “Come lay down,” 

“Here?” You start to shift like you’re going to lay down next to him the same way, but he shakes his head. 

“Like this,” His hand presses against your back, drawing you down towards his abdomen again, and you realize how he wants you. 

You relax down until you’re curled up, your back to the headboard and your cheek against his stomach. 

Yunho rubs your back, soothing you into the new position, “There we go,” 

Like this, every stitch of his anxiety seems gone. Something deep seated in his body needed to touch you like this, see you like this, and you shiver in anticipation. Positioned like this, all you feel is deliciously submissive. 

“Can I touch your hair like this?” He asks softly. 

You nod against him, “Yeah,” 

“Mm,” He sighs pleasantly, “thank you, baby,” 

Your chest expands with dizzy warmth, and his hand tenderly passes over your hair twice before settling into a comfortable spot on the crown of your head. 

“Ready?” He murmurs. 

You nod. 

“That’s good,” His voice is so warm, low in his chest, “put those pretty lips around my cock again, sweetheart,” 

You melt into him, shifting forward to sink down over his shaft again. 

This time, Yunho’s in control, you’re under no illusions otherwise. You moan as he slowly pushes your head down, directing his cock in just deep enough that it settles heavily on your tongue without irritating the back of your throat. 

“Good girl,” He says, and at that your eyes flutter pleasantly closed. 

You press the flat of your tongue to his cock and relax your mouth, breathing in and out slowly through your nose. 

Yunho finds your hand and lifts it, placing it over his thigh, his hand tightening over yours to illustrate his words, “Tap and we stop, okay?” 

“Mm,” You reply, mouth still full of him. 

“Show me,” He strokes your hair. 

You tap his thigh twice, sharp and unmistakable. 

“Good,” He croons. 

Something about this tone from him has your body unspooling. You were just meant to take his mind off the hate comments, distract him with a little blowjob and maybe take a nap after, but something about this feels like therapy for you too. 

“So pretty for me,” He sighs, stroking your hair, letting his cock rest heavy between your lips. 

You sigh, your mind going soft. 

With his wide hand on your head, he applies a little pressure, directing you into a slow, bobbing motion, “There we go,” he says as you catch on, “that’s it, honey,” 

Your eyes roll, your hand gripping his thigh for purchase. 

He keeps this pace for a while, both your head and his hand moving with deliberate sluggishness. Curled against his side you find yourself breathing in and out deeply, almost meditatively, and with his free hand, Yunho continues to rub your back. He makes no attempt to touch you any other way, just slipping his hand under your loose sleep shirt to feel your skin and soothe you as you take his cock like this. 

Slowly, his hips start to move. First in time with the motion of your head, little undulating thrusts that push his cock a little deeper down your throat with every upstroke, but then you feel his hand tighten on your hair. 

You want him to take it.

That’s your single coherent thought as you whine around his shaft, his hand gathering your hair into a loose fist. 

“Good girl,” He groans, “making me feel so good,” 

You hum again, body relaxing in his grip. 

“Letting me use that perfect mouth,” His voice sounds tight again, thready with his own pleasure. 

You moan at his words, saliva pooling in your mouth, dripping and messy down his cock as he picks up the pace. 

“That’s my girl,” He thrusts a little more, fucking your mouth properly now, “oh, god, look at you,” 

Your eyes are watering, your jaw starting to ache, but don’t want to stop, not even close. 

“Can you take it deep, pretty girl?” 

“Mm,” You nod a little, dropping your head down as far as you can with your hair caught in his fist. 

“Oh, fuck,” He sighs, “of course you can,” 

With a push on your head and a jerk of his hips he buries the full length of his cock down your throat and holds you there. 

Your hand tightens on his thigh and Yunho waits, his body still, giving you the easy opportunity to tap out, but you don’t. 

His hand leaves your back, reaching around to cup his own balls and feel just how deeply you’re taking him. He groans, “So perfect,” 

You make a tight noise, the first tickle at the back of your throat, and he lifts your head up to give you a break from the overwhelming sensation of him stretching your mouth. In a second though he’s back to his pace before, sharp thrusts that drag his cock over your tongue, his breath getting more audible as he uses you. 

You can tell he’s close before he says it, the feeling of his pleasure building in your own gut, but you still moan when you hear him say it, his words punctuated by sharp pants, “I’m gonna come, baby,” 

It happens fast, with a jerk he pulls you off his cock entirely and you suck in a full, startled breath of air. 

He fists his cock, his arm wrapped around you, and he pumps himself hard and fast. 

“Fuck,” He shudders under you, “I’m close,” 

“Please,” Your voice is hoarse, but you nod, holding yourself up with your hands braced on his thighs, “Come,” 

He shudders, groaning, and you close your eyes again as his orgasm hits, warm cum splattering over you - painting your chest, your throat, ropes of his release on your lips and cheeks. 

You’re both breathing heavy, trembling, but Yunho clears the fog with a shake of his head and he releases his tight hold on your hair, easing you down to the bedding. He slips out from under you, dipping off the edge of the bed and you watch as he pulls his boxers back up and darts into the master bathroom and back out again, a damp washcloth in his hands. 

He’s sweaty, his neck and cheeks still dark pink, and you smile up at him as he kneels on the bed to get closer to you. 

“Hey,” He murmurs softly, “relax, let me clean you up,”

Your mind feels mushy and delicious even though you haven’t even come, and all you can manage is to hum a soft, affirmative response as he quickly wipes away his release from your skin. 

Yunho’s eyes flick over you, taking stock of your body language, your facial expression, how you’re feeling in the bond, before tossing the towel aside and laying down to be eye level with you. 

“Jagi,” He says softly, fingertips gentle on your jaw, “are you alright?” 

“Mhm,” You nod lazily. 

“I know that was big,” He massages your jaw with light pressure, “tell me how you’re feeling,” 

Words still feel distant, almost foreign, and you blink, “Good,” you manage. 

His lips turn up on one side, “Floaty?” 

“Yeah,” You sigh, and you don’t know how he picked out the perfect word for how you’re feeling but he did. 

“Okay,” Yunho murmurs, “I got you, baby.” 

He wraps you up in his arms again but keeps his eyes on your face, guiding you through whatever soft, blissful feeling you’re swimming through. 

“Love you so much,” He whispers as he kisses your forehead. 

Little by little, your body and your mind seem to come back online, and finally you blink up at him, “Was that okay?” 

“It was amazing,” He assures you, “you’re amazing,” 

You smile, feeling strangely shy. You’ve never done something quite so intimate, never surrendered control like that. You’ve always liked men to be a little bossy, and you’ve loved how direct and vocal Yunho is when you have sex, but this was something altogether more intense and you’ve never felt safer or more held by him. 

His fingers slip into your hair again, massaging your tender scalp, “Was I too rough at all?” 

“No,” You breathe, “just right,” 

He smiles at your expression and nods, “Good,” 

“You feel better?” You manage. 

“Mhm,” He huffs a small laugh as if to say it’s obvious, but then he directs the attention back to you, “did you like that?” 

“A lot,” You confess. 

He grins this time, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” You sigh, leaning your head back unconsciously into his hand, “you were so gentle,” 

“Good,” He softens, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips, “I love you,” 

“Love you too,” You sigh. 

Yunho gently lets you relax back down onto your back before he slides off the bed again, “I’m going to start the bath for you, okay?” 

“Yeah,” You nod, “that sounds nice.” 

“I’ll be just in there, okay?” He nods towards the bathroom, “I’ll come get you in a minute,” 

“Okay,” 

He gives you another smile, and then disappears through the bathroom door. 

For a minute you take stock of your body. You feel relaxed down to your very core, something about the way Yunho held you and touched you during the blowjob felt primal, essential. You stretch out your limbs against the mattress, listening to the steady pour of the water from the next room, and by the time you sit up in the bed you feel strangely proud. It feels like a new chapter, maybe even an entirely new book. 

You pull yourself off the bed and right the sheets, and your eyes catch on Yunho’s phone. 

The rest of the world was undoubtedly talking about you both right now, but you can’t find it in yourself to care, not after that. You take your phone and his and place them both face down on the bedside table, and resolve not to look at them again until much, much later. Whatever the world was saying would have to wait. 

You step into the doorway of the bathroom and smile when you see him again, pangs of your own arousal thrumming back through you. 

Yunho’s crouched by the side of the large, deep porcelain tub, his hand under the steady stream of water to gauge the temperature. 

“Almost ready?” You ask him. 

His head turns a little at the sound of your voice, “Yeah,” he says, “how are you feeling?” 

“Honestly? Kind of amazing,” You say. 

“Good,” He sighs. 

With a smile, you pull your sleep top off. 

Yunho passes his hand through the water in the tub, “it’s a little warm,” 

“I like warm,” You let your top fall to the floor and tug on the drawstring of your pants. 

His back is still to you as he adjusts the temperature of the water one last time. 

While he’s not looking you push your pants down and kick them away, your underwear right along with them, so that when he turns back around you’re naked and standing in the bathroom doorway. 

“I think if you want,” He starts to say as he looks up, but the words die on his lips and his eyes rake over you in an instant. 

“If I want what?” You smile, stepping into the room properly. 

“Want what?” He fumbles over his words, brow creased with confusion as he meets your eyes again. 

“Flustered,” You tease him, “that’s cute, you’ve seen me naked before,” 

He recovers, smirking and reaching for you, “It really does not get old,” he says, “now come here and let me touch you,” 

“Yeah?” You can’t help but take your sweet time, loving his hot eyes on you, the way his voice gets deeper when he sees you like this. 

He takes two steps towards you, pulling off his white t-shirt and letting it drop to the floor beside your discarded clothes, “I said, come here,” he murmurs as he gently tugs you into his space, “and let me touch you.” 

His hands travel over you slowly, lovingly. 

For a split second you think of the world outside, your phones on the nightstand, and you dip closer to press yourself against his bare chest, soaking up the feeling of so much skin on skin. 

“Hey,” He murmurs, wrapping his arms around you, “you okay?” 

You nod, “I’m good,” 

“You sure?” He checks, feeling the sudden pangs of tension in your chest. 

“Yeah,” You kiss his bare chest, “I just thought about everything else for a second,” 

“Mm,” He hums, a hand softly in your hair, “I got you, let’s just relax,” 

He draws you to the edge of the bath and checks the water once again, but you’re already reaching in, finding the water just the right amount of hot. He’s shucking off his boxers as you straighten back up to tie up your hair.

“Perfect,” You step directly into the water. 

Yunho’s hand settles under your elbow, “Careful,” 

“Babe,” You chastise him lightly, but if you’re being honest the affection in his voice and his tender care with you is something you could never really tire of, not when it’s him. 

“I don’t want you to slip,” He admits, stepping in behind you until you’re both standing in the center of the deep basin of water. 

“Mhm,” You start to say more, but his arms wrap around you loosely, his body nestled close to yours. 

“Look at that,” He says, nodding towards the floor to ceiling window along one wall of the bathroom. 

You look back up at the view and any teasing thoughts slip out of your mind. It’s beautiful, a private view only for your eyes, hidden away from the world entirely. The dark rocky beach outside leads right into the bright blue ocean, a little slice of heaven tucked away along the coastline in Jeju. 

“Now this,” You sigh, “this feels like a honeymoon,” 

Yunho kisses your shoulder, “I love you,” 

“I love you too,” 

He kisses you again and then shifts back to sit down in the bath and you sink down into the water with him. His hands slide across your body and draw you back so that you’re settled between his open legs, your back resting on his chest. 

“Not too hot?” He asks. 

“Mm-mm,” You shake your head against the broad plane of his shoulder. 

Tangled together in the warmth of the water you rest, letting the tension in your muscles unspool, watching the waves surge against the rocks outside. For a while you just let it be, his arms wrapped around you in the cocoon of the water, fingertips grazing gently along your skin. 

“It looks like rain,” He finally says softly. 

You nod, “A storm,” 

“That’s alright,” He kisses your hair, “we don’t have anywhere to be,” 

You soften in his embrace, cuddled against him, “True,” you murmur, “just here.” 

“Tonight,” He says, “I’m thinking, movies on the couch? The TV out there is huge we could set it up like a theater,” 

“Like a sleepover,” You smile.

“Great idea,”

 “We’ll bring the pillows and duvet out,” You say, “oh, and snacks,” 

You feel his happiness, his contented warmth through the bond, “I love it,” 

Turning your head, you catch his bicep with a quick kiss, “This house is so nice, this is like rich rich.” 

He hums, gathering you a little closer, “Yeah,” he nods, “do you like it?” 

“It’s nice,” You tell him honestly, “this view is crazy,” 

A few birds cut across the darkening sky, the waves rougher against the rocks, but inside it’s perfectly silent and warm. 

He huffs a little laugh against your hair, “You want a house like this?” 

You shake your head immediately, “That’s crazy,” 

“Why?” He kisses your hair. 

“Yunho,” You nudge him gently with your elbow. 

“Yeobo,” He says affectionately, amusement in his voice, “I have money,” 

“Not this much money,” You laugh. 

He’s quiet, not laughing along like you’d expect, and then he clears his throat, “I do, actually,”  

You turn your head, twisting to see his face, “What?” 

“Uh,” He blushes a little, “well yeah, when I was eighteen my father helped me set up a few funds for myself, a way to keep my salary set aside as a nest egg and then some investments.” 

Your eyes widen. 

“Now that I’m sure we won’t have to pay back any debts, and we’ll start getting properly compensated for the albums,” He smiles, “well, if I don’t have enough to buy this house today, I’ll have it in a year or two.” 

“Fuck,” You blink, the curse slipping out. 

He laughs, his head dropping to lean his forehead against your hair, “Did you think I was completely broke?” 

“You always hear about idols who never get their paychecks,” You counter, “like five years in and they don’t have a cent,” 

He shakes his head, lifting up to meet your eyes, “Well, I’m definitely not broke,” he smiles, “I like that you married me anyways, though,” 

You roll your eyes, nudging him in the chest, water sloshing around you, “Shut up,” 

He grins, “So,” he gestures with a jerk of his head to the room, “you want a house like this someday?” 

“This?” You shake your head, “This place is too much,” 

He looks amused at that idea. 

“Do you want a house like this?” 

He shrugs, “We could,” 

“You’re serious,” You laugh, still wide eyed in surprise. 

“You’re cute,” He kisses your lips once, before shifting you back to your reclined position in his arms against his chest, “you really thought I was broke,” 

“I don’t know,” You grumble, finding his hand under the water and thoughtlessly playing with his fingers. 

He smiles against your hair, and the sky outside opens up with rain. For a few moments you both rest together again, and then he murmurs a soft question, “y/n,” he says, “before Berlin, what did you imagine for your life?” 

 “My life?” You turn your head a little, your cheek against his wet chest. 

“Mhm,” He hums, the warm vibration of his tone running through you, “did you have big career dreams? A house in the country? You’ve never said,” 

You smile, your eyes locked on his wedding band and yours under the water, “I don’t know,” you confess, “for a long time I was just focused on making it out of my house, and then focused on protecting Hana,” 

He strokes your arm gently, listening quietly. 

“I imagined finding my soulmate someday,” You murmur, “and I love Seoul, I think it would be hard to leave the city. I love my life there, and my work is definitely suited for it,” 

“Mm,” He nods. 

“I don’t know,” You confess, “I just want a place of our own, somewhere we can make memories, I’ve never really worried about how big or how nice it would be,”

“I’d like that,” He murmurs. 

Your eyes drift shut and you think about your life, the images you played in your mind over and over while you waited for his call at Hana and Em’s. 

“I’d like a garden,” You continue, “and a nice kitchen. I’m not the best cook, but I’d like to learn,” 

Yunho’s hand laces with yours and he brings them up out of the water to kiss your knuckles, “What else?” 

“Hmm,” You shiver at the cool air in the room and he wraps you up, “a big bed, you’re so tall.” 

He laughs. 

Your stomach flip flops and you let your eyes open, finding your rings again before you confess a little more, “Maybe some extra bedrooms,” 

Yunho’s breath catches, his body stiffening behind you, “Yeah?” His voice is small, tentative as he searches for your meaning. 

You swallow tightly, a nervous bubble in your chest, “Enough space to grow into,” your voice nearly a whisper, “if we want a family?” 

He’s quiet, but his lips drop to rest on the crown of your head. He takes in a slow breath and then says, “How many extra bedrooms do you think we’ll need?” 

Warmth floods the bond, unfettered tenderness in your chest, “Maybe two?” 

Yunho squeezes your hand, “Two’s great, two’s perfect,” 

“You think so?” Your smile grows. 

He nods, “Yeah,” he murmurs. 

“Someday,” You kiss his arm again. 

“Someday,” He agrees, his hand coming to rest over your soulmark, his palm warm over the sensitive skin of your looping red tattoo. 

You hum pleasantly as he kisses your forehead, your eyes drifting shut with a sigh. For a minute, you just listen to the rain against the window, your hearts syncing up their rhythms. The water laps around you with every little movement, relaxing you both into a pliant, warm mess of limbs. 

Yunho shifts behind you, and then the hand over your soulmark shifts, and you gasp lightly as it closes over your breast, kneading the soft flesh with gentle firmness. 

“Oh,” You exhale, “that’s nice,” 

“Mhm,” He squeezes your breast again, fingers teasing gently at your nipple while his opposite hand drifts down your belly, a promising descent towards your parted thighs. 

Your body responds instantly, heat reigniting to the surface. 

“I think it’s your turn,” He murmurs. 

You nod against his chest. 

“Let me take care of you, pretty girl,” He says as his finger curls over your mound and dips into your slick folds. 

“Oh, yes,” You sigh, letting your legs fall open a little more, your knees pressing against Yunho’s inner thighs. 

“Mm,” He slides his fingers over your clit, “you’re wet,” 

You can feel that you’re slippery from how easily he’s touching you, the bath water not enough to dull how much you want him, and you nod. 

“Are you that easy?” He says appreciatively, “Or have you been wet this whole time?” 

You moan as he rocks his fingers, “Whole time,” 

“Sucking my cock got you wet?” He teases. 

You nod, your legs straining to open wider despite the lack of space in the tub. 

“Look at you squirming,” He dips his head, nudging your face to the side so he can kiss your temple. 

“Feels good,” You sigh, your hips twitching to chase the stroke of his fingers as he rubs you. 

Yunho pulls his fingers away from your aching cunt and you suck in a sharp breath, “Relax,” he nips at your ear, “I’ll make you come,”

“But,” You manage, breathless already. 

“Let me touch you,” His hands feel heavier on your body this time, dragging up your stomach, over your sides, cupping your breasts in his large hands. 

You buck as his fingers tease at your nipples. 

“So sensitive,” He comments softly, “I wonder if you could come just from this?” 

“From this?” You gasp sharply as his fingers flick back and forth over your hardening nipples. 

Pleasure arcs through you, molten and throbbing from your chest down to your clit, and you grip down on his thighs. 

“That good?” He adjusts, leaning forwards a bit so he can kiss down your neck, sucking over your pulse point as he teases your nipples. 

You whine sharply, hips bucking on their own, “Oh, god,” 

He squeezes both your breasts again and groans, “Oh, baby,” he sighs, “one of these days I’m going to spend all night playing with these perfect tits,” 

“Please,” You pant, but what you really need is his fingers on your clit again. 

“Mm,” He drags his hands down, exploring your body under the water again, “I want to do everything with you,” 

“Yeah,” You breath, head lolling back onto his chest again, “yes,” 

Yunho’s hands settle on your hips, and then they stop. 

An involuntary whimper bubbles out of you and your hips rock, looking for some kind of touch, some friction. 

He takes in a slow, steady breath and then exhales against your temple, “What do you want, jagi?” 

Your hand searches for his, trying to tug it down between your open thighs, “You know what I want,” 

“Do I?” You can feel his smirk against your skin. 

Yunho lets you move his hand, pushing it into the right place over your slit, but he doesn’t move at all. You press down over his hand, trying to get his fingers back in the right spot, “Yunho,” you whine.

“Ask me nicely,” He says simply, “ask for what you want, and I’ll do it.” 

“Touch me,” You beg. 

“I am touching you,” He squeezes your hip. 

“Yunho,” 

“Ask me nicely,” He enunciates every word, his lips against your ear. 

Your heartbeat picks up, hammering in your chest. This side of him brings out something in you that you never understood before, but now you don’t know if you could feel this good any other way. 

“I already know what you want,” He murmurs, “I want to hear you ask for it,” 

You swallow tightly, “Please, Yunho,” you say, “will you make me come?” 

He smiles against your ear, “How?” 

Your nails dig into his skin, “Rub my clit,” 

“Uh huh,” He nods, prompting you. 

“Please,” You correct, realizing what he wants to hear, “Will you rub my clit, please?” 

“Of course, baby,” He teases, and all at once he starts to play your body like an instrument. 

His fingers shift over your clit, circling with perfect, firm pressure, and his other hand slides up your body, his fingers splayed wide over your chest and pinning you in place to his shoulder. 

You arch into him, one hand flying out of the water to grip the side of the tub, “Oh, fuck,” 

“There you go,” He says low against your forehead, “does that feel good?” 

“So good,” You shudder in his arms, “don’t stop,” 

“Not gonna stop,” He promises, his fingers sliding through your slick slit to gather more wetness, doubling his efforts on your clit. 

Your eyes slam shut, your body rocking against him as he cages you in, and you feel the stiff length of his cock nudging at your back the longer you writhe against him, the only sounds in the room, your echoing moans and the rhythmic slosh of the water. 

“Love you like this,” He groans, his hand sliding up to the base of your throat, “who knew my soulmate would be such a needy, filthy girl?” 

Pressure tightens in your gut, “God, oh god,” 

“And so good for me,” He sighs, rolling his fingers faster, “you like being told what to do, don’t you?” 

“Yes!” Your mind is starting to fray at the edges, only pleasure and his voice and the warm water. 

Yunho leans forwards in the tub, sitting up properly and slipping the hand that was on your throat under the water and between your legs. You’re not ready for the sensation of two of his fingers pushing inside you, and you gasp, your hand slipping on the porcelain lip of the tub, your body snapping forwards. 

“Ah, ah,” He’s quick to catch you, pulling his fingers out and bracing you back against his chest, “careful, babygirl,” 

You can’t say a word, your body too close to the edge. Your hips rut with needy, artless jerks into the firm press of his fingers, and you reach back to grip onto his shoulder, a whimper on your lips. 

“Suck,” He says suddenly, pressing two of his fingers through your lips, and you accept them with ease, “good girl, good girl,” 

You taste yourself on his fingers, lips closing instinctively just like he wanted you to, and through the dizzy haze of your almost orgasm you suck, taking them heavy on your tongue. 

He groans, his breath hot on your ear. 

Whimpering, your legs jerk with a spasm of sensation, just a little more and you’ll tip right over. 

Yunho laughs, amusement in his voice at how quickly you’re following his every direction, “Oh,” he drags out the sound to tease you, “needy girl,” 

You whine, clinging to his slick shoulder. 

“Come like that, just like that,” He says, “suck on my fingers while you come,” 

You inhale sharply through your nose, head digging into his shoulder as you arch, “Mm, mm!”

“There it is,” He pants, rubbing your clit faster, “there it is, come on, sweetheart, come for me,” 

Your orgasm slams into you, and you shudder in his arms, your body jerking so sharply that water sloshes over the side of the bath, but he just stays focused and works you through it. 

You jerk your head and he pulls his fingers free as you moan out the broken sound of his name. 

“I got you,” He kisses whatever part of your skin he can reach at this angle, “I got you, that’s it,” 

When his fingers finally slow, your brain is buzzing. You’re slumped lower in the water, your legs clamped together and bent at the knees, and you're shaking from your top to your toes. 

“Holy shit,” Yunho breathes, his hands finding your waist to pull you back up out of the water and against his chest again. 

You manage a nod, but your chest is still heaving. 

He kisses the side of your head hard and chuckles, “I think you have an oral fixation,” 

His words don’t sink through the cottony afterglow of your brain though, “Hmm?” 

“Nothing,” He smiles, “not a thing,” 

You feel the hard nudge of his cock against your lower back, and you twist in the bath, more water sloshing over the sides as you follow the needy pull inside you, finding his mouth, “Kiss me,” 

He groans against your lips, his tongue flicking against yours. 

“I want you,” You confess, trying to turn around despite the tangle of his long legs, “please,” 

He nods, but pushes you back, “Let’s go to bed, the bath isn’t big enough for that,” 

“Yeah,” You slide backwards in the tub through the water, and try to stand but find your legs still a little weak. 

“Hang on,” He holds a hand out to you, keeping you in place. 

He climbs out of the bathtub, grabbing a towel from a hook on the wall and tossing it down on the wet floor to keep you both from slipping, and then he locates two luxuriously fluffy looking white robes and smiles down at you, “Here, baby,” 

He pulls his robe on first, and then holds one out to you, slipping it on you as you get out of the tub. You wrap the robe around yourself, tying the cord, but before you can dry off properly, Yunho pulls you into his arms, one arm under your knees as he carries you. 

A startled noise slips out and you laugh, “Yunho!” 

“You’re still shaking,” He says, stepping back into the master bedroom, “I’m just helping,” 

He tucks you both into bed despite your still wet skin, yanking the fluffy duvet up over both of you until you’re completely encased under the covers with him. He tugs you close, wrapping his arms around you until you’re chest to chest, nose to nose. 

You laugh softly, “What are you doing?” 

“Warming you up,” He murmurs, rubbing up and down your back, “you’re shivering,” 

You reach up, looping your arms around his shoulders and diving into another kiss. His hands on your back slow, fingers gripping down as the kiss heats up again, and you pull yourself closer to touch more of him. 

Your robe parts open naturally as your legs tangle together, and Yunho slips a hand underneath to cup your ass, groaning into your mouth as you buck against him. You lose yourselves in the kiss, more skin starting to press together, and your heart beats hard in your chest, the heat between you building in steady waves. 

“Love kissing you,” He pants before dipping his tongue back into your mouth. 

Something between a sigh and a moan slips from your lips and you nod, “Love you,” 

His hand travels, sliding up to lock down on your hip. 

Your body’s thrumming, the orgasm in the bath only enough to settle your need for him for a few moments. Tucked away with him like this, the warm air of your shared breath, just the sounds of your bodies together, it’s enough to make you wish this were your whole life. Rich, tucked away on the coastline, only the two of you, no amount of days together enough to sate this hunger in your belly.  

His hand slips between your bodies where your stomach presses into his, and he finds the tie of your robe, pulling at just the right angle for the knot to come undone and the fabric to fall slack around your body. 

“Mm,” You slip a hand into his robe, gripping his firm ass, “please,” 

His hot eyes flick over you, settling on your face, “You need it?” 

“Yes,” You breathe. 

“Hold onto me,” He says as he kisses you once more, and then he hikes your leg up by your knee to hook over his hip, opening you up wide. 

You grip down on his shoulders, “Yes, yes,” 

Reaching between your bodies he pushes his robe open and directs his hard length into your slick heat, no amount of hesitation in the way he pushes into you. Once his cock catches, he secures a hand back on your ass and drags you down as he thrusts, sheathing himself deep inside you. 

You moan at the familiar stretch, “Oh, Yunho,” 

“Baby,” He shivers, “god,” 

Without another word, you sink into each other. Your lips connecting in a crash, tongues tangling as you moan into him. Using his shoulders and your leg hitched over his hip to secure yourself to him, you start to roll your body.  Yunho curses, hips snapping into a steady rhythm, his hands anchored on your naked skin and pulling you back onto his cock with every stroke. 

It’s needy, frantic, and you wonder distantly if there will ever be a time that sex with him doesn’t feel like an all consuming wildfire in your veins. This time there’s nothing to say, no teasing, no dirty talk, just both of you moving hungrily together, every kiss bringing you higher and higher as his cock spears you open. 

You fuck like this until Yunho changes the tempo, responding to the sound of your arden whimpers. 

Without breaking the kiss he rolls onto his back, dragging you with him so that you’re perched on his hips, the sudden position change pushing his cock in to the hilt. 

You moan sharply, the kiss disconnecting as you tremble over him, “Oh my f-fuck,” 

His hands grip your hips, “You’re so tight,” 

Heat floods your brain, and you scramble to sit upright, your robe falling off your shoulders. You shove it off, pushing it to the side, and then pull open the tie on Yunho’s robe, getting it open so you can see all of him. 

“C’mere,” Yunho mumbles, taking your hands in his and lacing your fingers together, “god, you’re beautiful,” 

Your cunt clenches around him. 

“Yes,” He nods, pupils blown with desire as he looks up at you, “ride me,” 

Using his hands as your balance, you lean into it, hooking your feet over his muscular thighs. You bounce on him slowly at first, getting used to the feeling of how deep inside you his cock connects every time you drop down, but once you have it, you let yourself get lost in it. 

His eyes flick from your face down to the connection of your bodies, and his plush lips part as he watches his cock disappear all the way into your slick sex again and again. 

“Good girl,” He sighs, squeezing your hands, “that’s it, baby, keep fucking yourself on my cock,” 

You gasp sharply, pleasure blooming inside you, his and yours all at once in a tangled mess of want. 

“Oh god,” Your thighs are aching, but you keep going, up and down with every breath, the sound of your bodies wet and messy. 

“Say my name,” He pants. 

You crumble a little, shoulders caving in but he holds you steady with his hands, “Yunho,” you moan, “Yunho, Yunho,” 

“That’s right,” He says, nodding up at you, “tell me how good it feels, babygirl,” 

“S-so good,” You can feel it building, knotting in your belly, “love your cock,” 

“Yeah?” He groans, his head pressing back into the pillows. 

“Yes, yes,” You grip his hands harder. 

“Don’t stop,” His eyes find yours, “ride me until you’re coming all over this dick, baby,” 

You fall forwards, pressing his hands back into the mattress, and your brain shorts. In a breath you’re dropping down your hips so that he’s fully buried inside you, a cry on your lips as you start to grind against him. 

Yunho disconnects your hands and you collapse on his chest, your head over his shoulder, lips against his throat, your body just jerking and grinding against him as you chase your pleasure. 

He hisses, his arms banding around you, “Fuck, pretty girl,” 

You whimper into him, “Need it,” 

“I know,” He murmurs, turning his head to yours, “I got you,” 

“Close,” 

He holds you to his chest, his lips at your forehead, “Come for me, sweetheart,” 

“Oh, god,” You grind down on him harder, endlessly rolling your hips, faster and faster as your body tightens. 

“You’re all mine,” He soothes, “aren’t you, gorgeous girl?” 

“All yours,” You babble into his skin. 

He groans, his hips jerking under you just once, but he holds himself still so you can take what you need. 

It comes over you fast, and you fall apart into needy shakes above him, biting down on his shoulder as your body breaks open. Sucking in a sharp breath, he adjusts his legs under you, and with a few hurried thrusts into your spasming cunt, he spills himself hot and deep inside you. 

“Perfect girl,” He presses kisses over your face, holding you to his chest, “love you so much,” 

You’re still panting, out of breath, but you nod, “L-love you,” 

You fall asleep in a tangle of sheets, his cock still deep in you, his hands stroking a tender line down your back. 

The world outside, completely forgotten. 

Nothing but you and Yunho and your makeshift honeymoon suite. 

**remember to continue on to section 2!

[lubdubsworld]

Bird Bones

Chapter 1  /  Chapter 2  / Chapter 3/ Chapter 4

Chapter 5

“So, did you guys think about it?” Seokjin asked casually, watching me struggle back into my shoes after getting down from the examination table. He looked a little nervous as he stared at me and I bit my lips.

“I haven’t seen Jungkook in a while. He’s gone to Seoul with Hoseok for their dance showcase.” I said hesitantly. The last few weeks had been hectic, with Hoseok preparing for the showcase and me having to tell the administration I was pregnant. Surprisingly, most of my professors were kind about it, agreeing to share notes with me personally on days when I had to miss classes. I would miss out on a few lab credits because they coincided pretty closely with my due date but that was a whole six months away and I didn’t want to worry about it right now. 

Seokjin hummed in response and waited till I was sitting down in front of him before leveling a look at me. 

“I see and ….he would have to agree too...because?” Seokjin asked pointedly, and I flinched. 

 It was a loaded question, one that made my throat dry. 

We weren’t married. There was zero reason to have his approval to put the baby up for adoption. 

With Jungkook out of town , his parents had contacted me again about the NDA. I’d told them to sort it out with their son first before approaching me again , but I knew they were getting nervous. Jungkook was making it clear that he was sticking around and it was making everyone nervous.

Including me. 

“Its not... I’m not going to say no if he says no or anything like that. It’s just ... he asked me to keep him in the loop that’s it.” I protested. 

“I’m not saying anything.” He held his hands up. “ Just ....remember who he is, yeah? He’s not.... He’s not for you.”

It was hard to forget , I thought miserably, what with everyone throwing it at my face every day. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I continued to stay at Hoseok’s place while he was at the showcase. It was better than the dorm for sure and I knew that it only made people resent me more. As a professor in my college, Hoseok had a lot of perks and most of my peers thought i was enjoying them in exchange for sleeping with him.

On the weekend before he was due to come back home, Hoseok called me from his hotel room.

“How are you holding up?” He asked casually and I could hear voices in the background. I wanted to ask him about Jungkook but I didn’t.

“I’m fine. I got my check up and Seokjin oppa told me we could fix a date to meet Yoongi and Namjoon.” I said softly, settling into the comfortable couch and tugging on the phone line. 

“Hmm.... fair enough. I’ll let Jungkook know. He’s out with Sana tonight so-”

“Sana?” I felt my breath catch in surprise. 

“Oh, yeah. she tagged along....you didn’t know?” Hoseok said casually and I gulped.

“Uh...no.. I mean ...whatever...they’re....she’s his girlfriend, right...” I laughed, sounding incredibly hollow to my own ears. Hoseok would see right through it.

“Fiancee.” He said curtly.

“What?”

“She isn’t just a girlfriend. She’s his fiancee...he proposed to her last year on the Han river with a hundred grand ring.....” His tone was dry and emotionless and yet each word cut to the bone. I couldn’t fucking breathe.

“You’re....you’re trying to hurt me.” I accused hoarsely.

He growled.

“No, I’m fucking pissed that this thing , this fact that Jungkook is engaged to Sana has been true for a whole damn year and yet all of a sudden it fucking hurts you because you’re letting your emotions get the better of you... Have I not taught you anything, Dasom?” 

I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself down, my breathing ragged. He was right. He was absolutely right but it stung because Jungkook was.... Jungkook was so kind. So ridiculously endearing with his childlike amazement, his adorable possessiveness over me and yet somehow  so non judgmental and so eager to be a part of the baby’s life and how on earth could I not like someone who only seemed to want to care for me?? 

And he was wrong. 

I wasn’t an idiot. I had no intention of building castles in the air, dreaming of a happily ever after with someone like Jungkook. I would get through this and things would go back to the way they were. 

Just me and.... well Just me. Alone. By myself. The way it has always been.  

I took a deep shuddering breath. I wasn’t up to explaining all this to Hoseok. Not tonight when he was clearly angry. 

“I hope the showcase goes well, oppa.” I whispered, hanging up before he could respond. The phone rang a second later and I left it off the hook after disconnecting it.. 

I sat there for a long time, staring into the darkness. I had to talk to Jungkook as soon as he got back. We needed a game plan. A clear end to this thing between us. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hoseok oppa thinks we should meet Yoongi and Namjoon this weekend. “ I said casually, watching Jungkook closely as he sipped his iced tea. He stopped for a second, eyes widening before landing on mine.

It was a late Sunday afternoon and he had agreed to meet me for coffee so we could talk about the dinner. He looked just as good as ever, bright and cheerful. The showcase had gone really well according to Hoseok and Jungkook had gotten offers from a whole bunch of entertainment agencies. 

“So soon?” He asked evenly, grip tightening on the drink. 

I shrugged staring at the long smooth fingers. Somedays i tried to remember that night. I couldn’t imagine us being graceful, having sex while drunk out of our minds . Had he been gentle? Rough? What did he like in bed? I vaguely remembered the finger shaped bruises on my wrists, like someone had gripped them together. 

Staring at his hands now, I wondered how it must’ve felt, being held like that. 

I shook my head to clear it. Nothing good would come from going down that path. 

“I’m thirteen weeks along now...First trimester is over ….there's not a lot of chance to miscarry and-”

“What the fuck why would you say that?” He whisper shouted and I frowned.

“Jungkook....”

“That’s our child you’re talking about! Don’t even say that word!”

I could only stare at him. 

“It’s going to be very difficult for you if you don’t distance yourself from this baby “ I said quietly.  And me. 

Jungkook just stared at me , his eyes blazing. 

“Our baby....  Say it. It’s  our  fucking baby. It’s not just a baby or this baby. It’s ours. We made it. Its’ going to...fucking look like us, and it’s going to get our traits and ….I just don’t understand how you can be so callous about something so amazing and----it’s our baby, Dasom...” He was looking at me in disbelief and I couldn’t take it anymore. 

“No it fucking isn’t!!!” I hissed angrily, my heart beating fast, “  It’s not ours, Jungkook. It’s... it’s not something we should be celebrating..... You and I... we’re a fucking mistake. That night was a fucking mistake and this, this baby is nothing more than an unfortunate soul that’s going to have to share the consequences of our horrendous mistake that night!” I felt tears sting. 

I refused to let his words get to me. To make me feel guilty. Jungkook with his golden life, with his perfectly gorgeous fiancee and his filthy rich parents could afford to wax poetic about the joys of parenting but i couldn’t. 

I was a poor fucking orphan with a mother who had only cared about what was between her legs. I had to fight tooth and nail just to break out of the mould everyone had made for me,. 

“Dasom-”

“No, stop...Just...stop and for once get rid of those rose tinted glasses you have on, and listen to me okay?  We’re going to give the baby up for adoption....He or she is going to be raised by kind, loving parents who can provide a stable happy environment . We’re going to stop talking to each other after that. You’re going to go get married to your Fiancee ….I’m going to go and try and build a life for myself. That’s what’s in our future....Not some utopian universe where we raise this child , taking turns changing diapers and weekends at the fucking zoo!!” I finished bitterly.

“Why do we have to stop talking to each other?” He shot back defiantly and i felt my pulse pound. 

I glared at him and he just kept staring back at me.

“Don’t-” I began but he held his hand up. 

“I told you , I’m not going to do everything my parents ask me to. I’m... I’m trying to build a life for myself too alright? I’m not going to just... I’m not married yet. I’m not married yet.” He repeated and I felt a laugh of disbelief bubble up inside me.

“What the fuck does that even mean? You’re engaged-”

“I was engaged before I was fucking born. “ He snapped, running fingers through his hair in evident frustration. “ Sana and I grew up together. We just...we’ve been told that we'll be together all our lives and its all we have ever known. But that doesn’t mean its too late for us to think about other things...other options...”

“And you’re saying I’m another option? You don’t even like me JeonJungkook-” i laughed in disbelief.

“I think you’re beautiful.” He said softly and I felt my jaw come unhinged. 

What.

 What?

“ I saw you two years ago when you dropped by the practice room to meet Hobi hyung.. I thought you were beautiful then... So wildly uncaring about what others thought and I thought you looked amazing with your long hair and easy smile...I still do.” He was staring right at me and i felt heat creep up my neck. 

I shook my head. 

“I’m not listening to this nonsense.” i said sharply, reaching for my bag from the chair next to me.

“Hyung knows... Its why he’s always telling you not to trust me.... He knows how I feel about you and he doesn’t want the competition...” He sneered and I felt my hackles rise. Jungkook’s jealousy towards Hoseok was the most irrational thing in the whole world and it pissed me off so bad. 

“Now I know you really are full of shit-”

“He’s in love with you. He’s always been in love with you and you’re too caught up in your own self pity to notice that.” He grabbed my wrist when I tried to get up from the chair. “ Sit the fuck down and let me finish.”

“You’re spouting nonsense. I’m not interested in it...” I hissed back and he laughed.

“Nonsense? I’ve never hidden how I felt about you. Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed me watching you , because everyone else has. Why else do you think Sana is so threatened? She knows... She knows I’m attracted to you...Knows that I want-----” He stopped and I knew he was going to say ‘you’ 

‘ Sana knows that I want you’ . 

I stared at him in disbelief. 

But he just barreled on,  completely unbothered by how upset I was. 

“ I want to get to know you better. And fine, even if you don’t want to keep the baby, there is no fucking way I’m going to stop talking to you.... “ He finished. 

I tried to gather my sense which felt like they’d been scattered to the seven winds. 

“Really, you talk about your fiancee so flippantly....but I heard you had a cozy little honeymoon in Seoul during your showcase...what of that?” I hated myself as soon as I said it because it made sound so horribly jealous. 

Jungkook snorted.

“Let me guess, Hobi hyung told you that huh? I bet he conveniently failed to mention that she was attending a different showcase , a whole damn district away? That we only went out for dinner one night and I was back in like an hour?” 

I stared at him, thrown . I felt confused and disoriented, not sure what was happening and why.

This had gone on long enough. 

I could not let this man do this to me. I just couldn’t. 

“Your parents met me again.” i said softly, staring right at him. “ They wanted me to sign the NDA. Did you tell them this? Can you go tell them this? Go break up with your fiancee, tell your daddy you want to date the  girl you knocked up while you were drunk out of your mind. And then, once he disowns you and kicks you out of your house and you have nowhere else to go, come see me. We’ll go out on a date, yeah?” 

 I waited for him to respond but he didn’t. So I stood up. I slung my bag up on my shoulders and stared down at him. 

“I’m meeting them on Saturday. If you want to be there, you can. And regardless of whether you turn up or not...I’m going. I’m giving the baby up for adoption and I’m getting on with my life. ” I said quietly. 

I walked out of the cafe without looking back. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yoongi sat across from me, hands twisting nervously in his lap while Namjoon poured us some water from the cut class decanter on the table. Next to me, Jungkook looked subdued and upset, eyes darting between the two men on occasion. I hadn’t talked to him after my outburst at the cafe

I peered around the house, an expensive three bedroom flat located in a good neighborhood. It was decorated tastefully and I could tell that even Jungkook was reluctantly impressed by how clean and neat everything looked. I played with the hem of my blouse while Hoseok finished his phone call, not sure what to say or how to start. 

“How are you feeling, Dasom?” Namjoon asked finally, flashing me a smile with deep dimples on either cheeks. 

“I’m doing good. I’m fourteen weeks along now and the nausea has gone down.” 

Yoongi hummed.

“My sister says the first three months are the worst.” He smiled a little and I smiled back, taking in the soft curves of his face and the nervous fingers on the lap. He looked just as terrified as I felt. 

“I’m glad you guys could meet with us. We just want to say that we’re so grateful that you guys even considered us.” Namjoon said in a rush, eyes flooding with warmth as he glanced between me and Jungkook. I felt him stiffen next to me and reached out, curling my fingers around his, pulling him closer. I linked our fingers and squeezed lightly. He squeezed back. 

“We only want what’s best for the baby, right Kook?” I said softly. He looked up at me then and I felt my heart crack at the light sheen I saw there. 

“Yeah...I...I love the baby.” He whispered and I felt a lump in my throat. 

The past few weeks, I had found myself hanging out with him way too much for my liking. For some reason, Sana stopped talking to me. She would throw occasional glares at me but she stayed away. Jungkook was conspicuously respectful. Never crossing a line enough for me to kick him away. He would throw that occasional remark that implied he was interested and shrug it off when I rejected him again. 

But he also told me that he had always wanted a family first. A wife, two kids, picket fence and all that. He loved kids,  had always been the designated babysitter to his umpteen cousins. He loved babies and he wanted as many as his fututre wife would give him. And then without warning he had just stared at me.

I hadn’t trusted myself to respond to that. 

The mind games left me exhausted. I didn’t ….not like him. He was funny , sweet and intelligent. He liked talking and he liked listening. It was just hard to enjoy when I knew what he was . A chaebol heir to a fortune. He spoke of his family with a casually dismissive attitude, about how they didn’t really give a damn about who he married and that it wouldn't be a big deal if he broke up with Sana.

But I had to remind myself that he hadn’t done it. He hadn’t broken up with her. And that meant that no matter how dismissive he was, he knew that something like that wouldn’t go by without repercussions. The fantasy of Jungkook leaving his gorgeous girlfriend because he couldn’t live without me was just that, a fantasy.  

Hoseok’s voice broke me out of my reverie.

“They’re both too young to go through with this.... Its going to be painful but like Dasom says, its the baby we need to think about.” Hoseok had hung up the phone and he stared at Jungkook, his gaze softening when he saw how miserable the younger looked. 

I pulled myself together and watched Namjoon pull out a file, containing all the formalities we would have to go through. /As i heard him explain everything, his eyes clear and intelligent, his tone gentle and kind, I felt myself making my choice. Yoongi and Namjoon loved each other deeply . They leaned on each other, evident in the way they held hands every few minutes, smiling and reassuring each other. They loved each other and they could love this baby. 

They would love this baby. 

My mind was made up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You need a ride home?” Hoseok asked casually, two hours later after we had bid goodbye to Yoongi and Namjoon. 

Next to me Jungkook stiffened. 

“I’ll drive her.” He said curtly and Hoseok ignored him, still holding a hand out.

“That’s fine Oppa, Jungkook and I need to talk.” I said tiredly. We did. There was a whole lot of formalities to be done with regards to the adoption and I wanted to talk to him about the possibility of an open adoption. Just in case he was interested. 

“You can talk tomorrow. Its already past ten-” Hoseok began but Jungkook laughed, loud and jarring. 

“What you think I’ll have my way with her and knock her up? Bit too late to worry about that right?” Jungkook drawled next to me and I felt my eyes widen in shock.

“What the- Jungkook are you crazy? Apologize!!” I hissed but he glared back at Hoseok defiantly.

Hobi chuckled a bit.

“You’re really asking to get your ass kicked Kook-ah... I’d tone down the blatant disrespect if I were you....” He said , eyes narrowed dangerously. 

“Maybe I will, if you stop lying to Dasom about how you really feel about her.”

I lost it entirely, turning around to shove him away.

“Jungkook what the fuck?!” I shouted but he gripped my wrists, stopping me from hitting him again. 

“Tell her hyung....tell her how you picked up a fucking engagement ring in Seoul....? How you told Seokjin hyung that you were going to propose when she graduates because, let me quote you, ‘ she’s docile and adjusting. She’ll make a nice companion’“

I froze. I turned around to stare at Hoseok and felt my heart drop at the sharp sharp look of guilt om his face.

I stopped struggling against Jungkook, sagging against him when ice cold disbelief flooded my veins. 

No. No , it couldn’t be.  

“You-what?”  I whispered. 

Hoseok stared at me. 

“ Don’t tell me you didn’t see it coming.” He said blankly. I felt bile rise up my throat. 

“Oppa-”

“Don’t fucking call me that.” Hoseok snapped. 

I flinched when Jungkook’s grip tightened around me , a growl making his chest tremble. 

“Hyung , don’t-” He began angrily but Hoseok cut him off, staring at me with blazing eyes. 

“You’re always around me ..” Hoseok ground out, “ You’re literally the only person I’ve known and loved all my life.... So sue me for wanting to take responsibility for you and-”

“I’m not your responsibility.....I’m twenty years old...”

“And look how well you’re doing yeah? Knocked up with some guy’s bastard .....Just like your moth-”

I felt Jungkook move behind me and my instinct kicked in. I turned quickly gripping his arms and putting myself between them to stop him from lunging at Hoseok. 

Hoseok looked unapologetic as he stared at me. 

“If you marry me, you’ll at least be respectable.” He said softly and it was like a veil getting torn, showing him for who he really was. 

Someone who thought I was a charity case. A poor , flailing mess of a human that needed his charity to survive. 

I nodded quietly. 

“Okay. Thank you for lowering yourself enough to consider marriage with someone like me....” I said softly and he hissed.

“That’s not what I-”

“That’s exactly what you meant.” I said sharply, turning around. I couldn’t look at him anymore.

“Take me back to the dorms, yeah?” I looked at Jungkook and he nodded.

“Anything you want.” He whispered, wrapping his arms around me before throwing one last glare at Hoseok. 

Author’s note : Send me an ask about what you thought and I will love you forever <3

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ FAMILY ❜

Headcanon.

with Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas.

Request: Oooh yes yes yeah 😁 I show u take request 🙈 I would read something with Creeper dates a girl who already have 4/5 sons of a precedent relation. Maybe about how he create relationshion with their ? Like one love bike, another by playing football ? An the older is septic but one day he understand have Creeper for stepfather is having all Mayans for family. Sorry if it's sound to specific.

BY ANON

Warnings: none.

Word count: about 1.3k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author, I found it on Google.

Masterlist.

Creeper couldn't believe you were alone in charge of three kids, when you moved onto his neighborhood. And he knew you didn't have a husband around because he had never seen him.

The problem was when he realized he was in love with you, with your scent, with the sweet tone of your voice and with that smile which could stop a war.

“Wait, wait! Lemme help you, mama!”

You hear a voice behind you, making you turn around from the trunk of your car full of bags. A man covered with tattoos and a helmet hanging from his forearm, is walking towards you.

“Oh, no, no. Don't worry. It's okay”. You mutter somewhat ashamed with a fleeting smirk on your lips.

“Nah, ain't nothing better to do”. He just shrugs his shoulders, grabbing three bags in every hand and greatly surprising you of his strength.

“Than—Thank you…” You just say, taking the three left, before closing your car.

Walking in silence straight to the porch, you open the door with some difficulties making you both laugh until it finally opens. Following you to the kitchen, he leaves the groceries over the counter, having one quick look but without wanting to look like a creepy stalker.

“I'm (Y/N), by the way”. You say then, raising a hand at him hoping it's enough for a formal greeting.

“Neron”. The man answers, narrowing it softly, a little bewitched by your touch.

“Can I… maybe offer you a coffee or something…?”

Whenever you two were free of responsibilities, you used to sit on your porch to share some drinks and talk about work, or about your lives in general. And only when he knew that it could be something serious, he just talked to you about what he really does, one bit at time.

After some months, more or less, hanging out, you two decided to introduce him to your girls. Two twins of six years old and a pre-teen of fourteen. You were aware that he wouldn't have any problem with Lia and Marta. But Carlota was another history.

Since Creeper has sat at the table, after helping you to settle the table, you can see the younger whispering and chuckling with that kind of gesture that they use when they want to ask something, but they're too ashamed. Narrowing your eyes, as the man does, you look at them.

“C'mon, girls, spit it out”. You say with a funny smile on your lips.

“Can we color your drawings one day?” Marta and Lia ask in unison, pointing at his bare arms.

You can't help but laugh rubbing your faces.

“Sounds like a cool plan”. Creeper nods pretty convinced.

“Fuck this shit”. From her silence, Carlota drags backwards her chair, getting up to step out of the living room.

“Hey, mama”. Neron says grabbing your left wrist, when you're about to follow her. “It's okay. Give her time”.

“I can't let her behave like that”. You grunt sitting down.

“She is fourteen, baby. We both know what her father did. And probably she thinks I want to replace him, but it's not. She will see it, okay?”

The months kept passing by, taking the next step when you decided to live together. At this point he has already introduced you to his brothers, being more kindly than you thought. At least, they didn't thought that Neron was fucking out of his mind, for getting related with a woman with three kids.

Lia and Marta were delighted having him at home, playing with them whenever he had five minutes, or cooking pancakes on Sundays. And of course, letting your girls color all his tattoos.

Carlota, by the other hand, started to be hard-nose. Always locking herself in her dorm when she was at home. And it was breaking your heart, trying to talk with her about what was bothering her, even if you already knew. But the worst part was when the principal of his highschool called you to tell you about a fight that involucred your daughter with another three girls.

“Hey, mama, I got this, okay?”

What you didn't know is that Neron was already conscious about what was happening. So he was to take care of that business.

Your daughter was sitting on a bench in the peak time of finishing classes, crying unconsolable with her hands covering her burning face. She wasn't expecting the loud buzz coming closer, raising her blurry gaze to the road. Nine motorbikes made their appearance, getting parked backwards next to the sidewalks. The whole student body with their parents and some teachers turned at them, mostly whispering about how good those nine men looked. Taking off their helmets, Neron's brothers waited for him, having some cigs, while he started to walk towards your surprised daughter.

As soon as he was able to kneel close to her, he knew by just one look who were the other girls. He didn't say anything, standing up to lead his steps to the three families with their eyes fixed on the man.

“I know that your daughters are teasing my kid about me, about my club and about what we do. So, lemme tell you something, as parents you are, the only thing you want is the happiness of them. Keep it in mind. Because next time my kid comes back home crying, I will not be this… polite”.

The girls were trembling, hiding behind their parents who were terrified too because of his words. Showing them a fake smile, Neron turned around to your daughter to make her a sign.

“I want you to say ‘sorry’ to her, and promise that you will never gonna fuck her up again”.

“Sir, yo—”.

“Shut the fuck up, man. I'm talking to your ill-bred kids”.

“We… We're so—sorry, Carlota”.

Your daughter looked at him, clinging to his arm, pouting a little and pulling him back.

“Good. Never forget to be kind”.

That night, Carlota didn't stop talking about how scared everyone was because of Creeper, totally freaking out too about when he appeared with his brothers in such cool motorbikes.

It was almost two am when your boyfriend came from the clubhouse, a little tired and needed for a cold beer. Taking off his boots at the entrance, to not be noisy, he walks straight to the kitchen to grab one from the fridge. Opening it with not much difficulty, he has a sip turning to the island in the middle of the kitchen.

“Jesus fucking christ, Carlota…” He whispers with his heart racing. “What you doin'ere?”

“I couldn't sleep”. She just says, having another spoon of ice cream.

“At least, turn on the lights… You're gonna gimme a heart attack, kid”.

She laughs low, shaking her head, before getting up from the stool. Walking towards him without saying a single word, your daughter hugs Creeper wrapping his waist with both arms.

“Thank you for today”. She mutters resting her cheek on his chest.

Your boyfriend doubts for a second, not knowing if it's real or an illusion, but it feels so good that he could help her somehow. Hugging her back, the man kisses her head, smiling like a fool. Being happy to see that she's finally accepting him in her family.

“Listen, Carlota…” He says then, pulling himself away to leave the beer over the counter. “I don't wanna replace anyone, okay? We don't have to play this dad and daughter game. I wanna be your friend, I want you to trust me and talk to me about your problems, if you have some, okay?”

“Okay”. She just says. “I'm sorry if I hurt you ever”.

“Nah, it's okay, kid. I just want you to be happy”.

“I am, Creep'”.

✨ Tag list:

@starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba @destynelseclipsa @sheeshgivemeabreak @abbiesthings @knowles-morgan @lady-pswrld @minnicelli @marquelapage @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @jadesamhart @mycupoffanfiction @claytoncardenasbabymama @thesandbeneathmytoes @phoenixhalliwell @thewarriorprincessxo @sugary-x-sweet @multiyfandomgirl40 @imanerdychubbyqueen @iambabyharry @firebenderwolf @itsanofrommesir @noz4a2 @peaches007 @edonaspanca @irenne-stans @skyofficialxx @sesamepancakes

If you want to be tagged, send me a message!

[delcat177]

The "Sunday School Stories are always good" tag reminds me that despite having NO religious upbringing I've always been enamored with Noah's Ark because it's just like, this one man went through all that trouble to save all the animals!! It's so sweet! The idea that he probably even saved ones he didn't like or was scared of because God made them and he recognized their value!

I'm surprised that it's not brought up in like, conservation-related outreach to religious groups more, like Noah didn't save all those animals so you could let them go extinct because they don't benefit you!

I kinda went on a tangent there but point is that I love Noah's Ark so much I wanna get like a little handmade wooden ark playset or something because it just makes me happy!

WORDDD

Let me tell you(s), as someone who was in church for his entire childhood, Sunday School meant a story and a craft, and I was ALWAYS crossing my fingers for the same ones: Jonah and the Whale, Noah and the Ark, and Easter was especially fun because that was the annual to-do about Moses, and that meant ANIMALS and PLAGUES. Granted the animals WERE the plagues but I got to keep the flannelboard frogs one year, that shit was MAD RAD.

(We also made a lot of cottonball sheep, Lord is my Shepherd and cottonballs are 97 cents for 200 so it was economically feasible)

One of my early childhood toys was a fabric ark that came with pockets on the side, so when you put the fabric animals (two of each, assorted zoo) and Noah and his family in, it looked like they were smiling out the windows. I’d forgotten until now and I don’t know how I did, I’m suddenly sense-memory’ing it SO hard--the stitch on the giraffes, the little goofy 8) smiles on the family. I loved just taking them out and putting them back in again and sailing them around.

I also enjoyed playing out the grisly fates of those not in the Ark in the bathtub (SEE: LAST POST: “Onward came the meteors!”). I was always a dark creator, it was too much fun to resist.

I wasn’t the one who drew dots on the foreheads of the people in one of our coloring pages in green marker and went “They have the Mark of the Beast now!”, that was a church friend. When the Sunday school teacher asked “why would you do that?! they’re going to go to Hell now!!” she responded “because they’re BAD and I WANT them to go to Hell”, giggling wildly, and the teacher couldn’t really put down a six-year-old, so it became a weirdly warm moment.

Exvangelical is some wild shit, I assumed all these things were the average household experience and now they’re my water cooler “so hey wanna hear a fucked one” among my writing group/friends/mutuals. I might get a book out of it yet 8V

TL;DR omg yes, ark playsets are the best <333 There’s one in Thief of Always (Clive Barker) that is like a plot point and the way he describes it, hand-carved by his father and with one elephant with mismatched eyes because he ran out of blue paint..there’s just something there, y’know?

(I would like to wish all of my Jewish followers a happy sorry we colonized your religion, I hope it’s okay to agree that Moses and Noah were mad lads and there is Respecc)

[black-streak]

Waiting for the Worms - Empty Spaces

Part 2

Please heed warnings of part 1. Added warning of suicidal tendencies. If Anything about suicide makes you triggered, don't continue reading this particular story. Please be mindful of yourself. This WILL get worse.

Tag list of known masochists (I'm playing, you guys are amazing):

@northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @wuvpancakes @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @lysslovsanime

~---~

Coming to in Marinette's body was jarring to say the least. Moments earlier, pain was all he could register and now he was leaning back on a bench in the back of a classroom. 

Leaning forward and hiding his face in his arms, he focused in on the tug in the back of his mind, trying to bring it forward. To force the switch back, only to be met with harsh resistance.

"Dammit Mari, don't do this. Let me back!" He whispered under his breath, panic starting to lurch to the forefront. He started to shake all over, the longer the connection lasted and the longer she resisted.

"Marinette, please stop, please? You can't keep doing this," he murmured, slowly rocking back and forth, pushing with all he had at the bond.

"God, how pathetic can she get? Faking a breakdown for attention," a voice from the front spoke, pitched just right to be intentionally heard by him.

"Why don't you mind your own damn business," a haughty voice exclaimed from his left, before a body drew closer, arm wrapping around his shoulder. He held back a flinch, trying to tune into her normal reliance on others for comfort, instead leaning into the body, vaguely recognizing it as Chloe. 

The resistance dropped and finally the tug calmed down. He still couldn't switch back, but she wasn't fighting him anymore either. He let out a sigh as the shaking calmed down. Bruce must've found her. She was safe, but likely exhausted and unable to switch back. As much as he hated her taking the pain for him, all he could do now was wait for the bond to pull again and leave a letter detailing exactly what he thought of her little stunt here.

This time Jason did flinch. He felt the first few blows Joker landed, he could only imagine how much pain she must be in now.

"You okay there, marzipan?"

That was a new one. Glancing up into worried baby blues, he gave one soft nod and slumped into her side, paying attention to the lesson. Mari would be upset if he let her fall behind in her studies while she was gone.

…

It had been four days since then and Jason couldn't help feeling like something was horribly wrong. It wasn't the first time they switched for an extended period of time, by any means, but his gut told him this time was different.

Sure she had claimed his body for well over four days before to wait out an injury or get more extensive training with Bruce before and he had held her body hostage for over a week once when she was in the hospital with pneumonia, but normally a tug or two would tell him that one of them was holding out on the swap.

This time, nothing came. His mind was achingly devoid of her and as the days passed, he feared he might end up here longer than planned. It would make sense. Multiple broken bones, blunt force trauma, and the sheer force of their swap could easily have overwhelmed his body and dropped it into a state of unconsciousness. 

He took to her computer, trying any combination of words related to the accident to see if anything had been reported only to come up empty handed.

That couldn't be right, if she were in the hospital, if his body was properly reported as a Joker victim, the report would be made public, even if the identity was kept under wraps for being an unknown minor. Anything to indicate someone was caught up in the accident. Surely Bruce wasn't relying solely on Alfred to patch them back up?

It wasn't until a week after the incident that he received his answer, buried in a tiny little notice in the back of a Tuesday local newspaper. Like an afterthought. Amongst the obituaries. A tiny note that the late Jason Peter Todd had died.

His soulmate died in his body and didn't even make it into the citywide Sunday paper. Just a local midweeker with barely more than two sentences.

Disbelief struck first.

This couldn't be real, right? Soulmates weren't able to just. Die in the other's place. That wasn't a thing. It was his body, if anything, he would have immediately been evicted the second his body died and moved on while she returned to hers. So how the fuck was he still here?

Next came anger.

How dare Marinette die in his place. How dare she end her life for his mistakes! And by the Joker! The fucking Joker deserved to die for torturing and killing his sweet little soulmate. He deserved a life worse than death. To be strung up and peeled apart inch by inch until he begged for death. And Batman... How dare he not make it in time to save her. It'd be okay if it were him, but not her! She didn't deserve this. Mari had her own life, her own desires and dreams, her own villain to hunt down, and that was torn away from her because Batman let them down. But even worse, Bruce barely cared enough to be open about his death. To mourn the loss of her like he did, even if the man didn't know it was an innocent in that body and not him. And even if it had been, it hurt knowing that he alone wasn't worth more than a barely there acknowledgment that he was once alive in an unseen back page.

Last came devastating grief.

She was gone. Marinette, the girl who never even really met him, cared so much for him, she sacrificed her own life for his. Forced him to stay in her body and took his as her own to the grave so he could live as her. With her loving parents and colorful room and warm heart. She gave him everything and wanted nothing in return. Slept on the streets for him at times, took brutal fights on as Robin so he could have a reprieve, skipped meals so he could taste something he'd never had before that her parents made that night. Learned English from an early age so they could talk and he wouldn't be alone in the world. And now that one of them had died, she ensured that he would be left in the best environment she could provide him, even if it had become rougher around the edges from when they were younger. And now she was gone. Dead. Never to return. And as he turned towards the mirror and looked into her beautiful, glowing blue eyes, he saw the tears trail down her face before he collapsed into himself, cursing anything and everything in the universe for allowing such a cruel fate.

…

For the next month, he moved through life like a zombie. As much as he hated her classmates for treating her the way they had, he couldn't help but feel grateful that no one wanted anything to do with him. They still muttered under their breath and glared and purposefully manipulated situations against him, but no one tried to ask what was wrong.

Everyone but Chloe and Juleka avoided him like the plague, which felt accurate in a sense. He didn't have to fake a smile or pretend to be okay like he had when the class still loved her. He could sulk and cry and grieve and it went unquestioned. The others hated him and the two girls, while worried, knew that sometimes she needed the reprieve of just letting her negativity go unchecked for a little while to make up for bottling so much of it all the time, so they let it go as well. The teacher barely glanced his direction. If it weren't so beneficial to him at the moment, Jason would be pissed at the obvious neglect his soulmate had endured at the hands of this lot. As it stood, he just cried a little harder at night in his grief, Tikki curled to his neck with tears of her own. 

The two quickly bonded over their mutual loss and the inability to talk about it to anyone else. Despite the stress of it, Jason refused to let anyone else know that Marinette had died. Her parents didn't need to suffer her death while looking at her living, breathing body, knowing she wasn't in it. That it was his fault she had died in the first place. And he couldn't even imagine having to tell them how she died.

So he resolved himself to live in her stead. To live as she would for the sake of her loved ones and in her honor. He had enough practice in the past to pull it off. It helped that they had both learned to suppress their emotions to the point of nonexistent in the light of facing Hawkmoth.

That was another thing entirely, though. While he resolved to fake a smile and play the happy designer in her civilian life, Ladybug took a turn from that day forward. He warned the cat off him, not playing into the teasing and banter, becoming stoic and professional. And when the kid got too brash, too pushy, too unreliable, he stripped the ring from him and moved on. Built a team she would've been proud to lead.

Over the next three months, he slowly adjusted her mannerisms to be more natural for him. Not enough to be noticeable or seen as anything more than growing older and slightly more jaded, but enough to make it a touch easier and less like he was living a lie.

…

Six months had passed and everything was different. 

The rest of the class didn't bother him. Didn't make accusations. Throw insults. Acknowledge his existence in any way. And maybe that was meant to be punishment. To be treated as a ghost haunting an unknowing audience. But it was pure bliss. He couldn't thank them enough for their continued silence. 

At least this way he could pretend her last days of life were happy and surrounded by people who cared for her. That they were grieving her just as he was.

There were still mornings he forgot. Times he'd walk by a mirror and smile, seeing her looking back and thinking it just another of their sporadic swaps where he'd wake as her and find a note waiting for him. 

Then reality would crash around him as the little kwami would come out and look at him with those sad eyes, nuzzling his neck (her neck, this was her body god dammit). On those days it hit him differently. Sometimes he'd shut it all down, going through the motions for the rest of the day. Other times he'd break down and cuddle the small being as close as possible and share in her despair, not bothering to leave the house. Usually anger would coarse sharp and deadly through his heart, urging him to seek vengeance. On those days, any remarks made his way were brutally rebutaled, until the remarks stopped entirely. Ladybug fought with just a little more violent intent; he couldn't avenge her until Hawkmoth was defeated. Those gorgeous blue eyes set into her face turned into a deadly storm of promised danger. 

It all kept swirling and cycling through him over and over until one day, the desperation and grief and hurt all hit a little too hard and he laid on the floor, staring up at the dark ceiling, wishing he could be by her side. That he could join her and not have to feel like this anymore. That it could all just go away and he could be happy for once in his miserable life.

That night he wished for nothing more than to die. If it hadn't been for the absolute heartwrenching sight of her little, pale hand wrapped around a too big knife, he has no doubt he would have gone through with it. 

Afterwards he could only thank his cowardice for preventing him from destroying her body like that. She wanted him to live and who was he to deny her? 

That night, he curled up on the cold, hardwood floor and begged her forgiveness, promising to do better. To be better. He knew she couldn't hear him, would never respond, but he begged all the same.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Fifty-Five

A/N: I'm dedicating this chapter to @xpoisonousrosesx , HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY, BEAUTIFUL!! I hope it was a good day, and I pray this is your best year yet. I love you!!💕💕

Words: 3.8k

Warning(s): explicit language, mentions of drug abuse

Tag List: @unknownoblivion  @sinningsixx  @edwardtriggerhandzz  @lemmyjelly  @haileynicoleseavey17  @cierrasixx19  @oskea93  @mgkobsessed  @vamprlestat  @sharon6713  @itsametaphorbriansblog  @miriampraez  @allie-mcginn  @rebeccaphillips14  @nicholeh7  @fandomshit6000  @lilmou5ie  @tamedhearts  @divaanya  @kingbouji3 @evrsncnewyork @6ixx6ixx  @ratedrkohardychick91  @floregrohlssard  @oldschoolimagineblog  @thanks2pete  @abaldboi  @swoopygorl @justjodeye @liith-ium  @caos18blog  @ytwahsog  @shamlessobsession  @scarecrowmax  @toadspleen @random-internet-user-4471  @solohqrry  @loveofmyloif  @sparxx27  @kaitieskidmore1  @cruecifymesixx  @ijustwanttokiss70srogertaylor  @emmaelizabeth2014 @meetthesixxter  @sixxsixxsexx @sublimeprincesswasteland @arianareirg  @girlnight-terror  @mcnibberachi

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LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED

I smooth the hair dye through Nikki's roots, wiping my forehead with my forearm as he chatters on and on about the album.

"Tommy's fixed on making a song about strippers, and Mick's giving pretty good riff ideas, but Vince is too busy frying in the fucking sun to give a shit. As usual." He complains and I lick my lips and keep quiet. "Don't even get me started on how I showed him 'Veins' and he outright said he wasn't singing that 'shit'. If he doesn't like the fucking lyrics he can get his ass off the fucking beach or pull his cock out of cheap-bitch pussy and write a fucking song himself. Lazy fucking bastard. Then he wants to groan about how hard he works. Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't aware standing in front of a microphone and giving half-assed vocals is so fucking exhausting--which counting how much energy he spends talking back to me or Mick or Tommy, he probably is exhausted by the time he's done laying vocals and blowing load after load down a line of groupies' throats while Sharise is at home taking care of their fucking child. Fucking asshole."

"Vince has always been that way. I don't know why you're just now realizing this." I mumble, sectioning off another piece of his hair before glopping dye onto it.

"No, no. He had an attitude to begin with but it was the perfect amount for the band. Now he's getting singer syndrome and I'm not dealing with his prima-donna bullshit."

"He's not perfect, Nikki, maybe he's just going through something and he'll get better once whatever it is passes."

"He's not going through anything, he's just drinking again." He states and I raise my brows.

"Nikki, he's not drinking again."

"Yes, he is."

"How do you know?"

"I know what beer smells like. He reeks of it anytime he's in the studio."

At least it's not crack.

"So, this song about strippers..." I change the subject, starting on another section of his hair.

"Tommy just has the main tagline of the chorus in his head and we're working on lyrics and music for it, now. I think it'll be a good single."

"What's the main tagline for the chorus?"

"I can't tell you, it's a surprise." He grins when I step out from behind him to look down at him. "But you'll like it."

"Whatever you say." I sigh, finishing his hair, taking the gloves up. "Alright, leave it in for twenty minutes then we'll go rinse it out." I tell him, turning my back to go throw the box dye supplies and empty bottle away.

"Hey, does this stuff stain the floor?" He calls while I'm in the kitchen.

"...Yeah." I reply before it hits me why he's asking.

I rush back into the dining room to see him swiping the towel that was once over his shoulders, being wiped back and forth against the floor by his boot, probably trying to soak up what dye he got on the floor.

"Nikki!" I exclaim.

"I'm getting it up." He reassures me, laughing me off.

"It's getting on your shirt now!"

"You know how to get it out in the wash, though, so it's fine." He shrugs, smirking at me and I have to keep myself from screaming at him, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Okay. Okay." I say to myself, aloud, feeling his hands hold at my waist and I open my eyes, looking up at his dye soaked hair that's dripping down his shirt now that he doesn't have his towel on his shoulders to protect him. "You wouldn't take your shirt off before I started dyeing your hair, you wouldn't keep your towel over your shoulders and now you have dye on your shirt and I'm gonna have to scrub at it with vinegar and soap. You are a child. I am married to a man-child."

"You can spank me if you want to." He raises his brows and I have to keep myself from cracking up, holding back my smile.

"It's not funny." I tell him.

"It is." He argues.

"No it's not."

"It kind is."

"No, it's no--ahh!" I squeal, jerking away from him as he tickles me.

He stops in a split second, his eyes focused on something over my shoulder.

I turn my head to see Vanity standing at doorway, and I can practically feel the anger rolling off of her as she grinds her teeth.

She doesn't look as sweet as usual.

"Where the hell were you last night?!" She asks him, and I feel him tense up like a cat with it's fur standing up due to being threatened.

"With my wife."

It seems like she twitches at the word "wife" before she rolls her jaw.

"That's the third time you've bailed on plans made with me, Nikki. I'm really starting to get the impression you don't wanna be friends anymore."

"I've been working on music and trying to take a step back from the drugs, Vanity. When I feel like going down hill again, I'll give you a call." He states to her and she glares daggers at him before looking at me.

"You should be very proud of him, Vivian, I mean, really." She sarcastically let's out. "He really takes his marriage so serious."

"Vanity, you're stoned. Get lost." Nikki orders her and that seems to make it worse.

"Get lost?! I'm trying to figure out what's wrong, Nikki, and why you don't want to see me, so I can fix it!"

"And I'm telling you I'm busy working on the album, trying get sober, and, oh, yeah, spending time with Vivian because my life doesn't revolve around my friends. I have other priorities and you're not on that list anymore."

Her brown eyes shift to me, her jaw tightening and loosening the more she focuses on me.

"He only wants you around because you're sober. Just like he only wanted me around because I know how to have a good time."

"Vanity, I'm sure he'd be willing to hang out with you if you weren't constantly on something." I politely interject. "I was the one that suggested he manage his time spent with his friends that were involved in the things he was trying to get clean from." I add. "And we've been together for six years. I don't think he wants me around just for my personal preference of sobriety."

Her and Nikki seem to be having an entire conversation with just their eyes before she's letting out one last breath.

"Fine. Just call me up when you're desperate for an escape, again." She tells him before turning on her heel, stomping out of the house.

"What the hell was that about?" I ask him and he just shakes his head.

"Don't worry about it, Viv. She's fucking crazy." He mumbles, giving the direction she walked out in, one last glance before going to rinse his hair out in the shower.

When he gets out, I've got big, velcro rollers in my hair and I'm putting on makeup.

"Where you going tonight?" He asks me and I finish my mascara before giving a small shrug.

"Duff and I are gonna go try to see about finding him another place to move. They're starting on the album and when he starts getting money from it, he wants to get a nicer place." I explain.

"That's what you said last night, Viv. And the two nights before that." He adds, fixing his towel around his waist.

"Feel free to come with us, Nikki, I'm sure he'd love the company of another guy." I offer, not even realizing what he's getting at.

"Well, maybe I was gonna take you out." He tells me and I look at him for a moment.

"Nikki leaving me in a club while you go shoot up in the bathroom isn't 'taking me out'. It's using me as a coverup." I sigh.

"I'm off smack, Viv." He states, finishing smearing shaving cream over his jaw, picking his razor up.

"Is that why you were hanging out with Robbin last night?"

The thud of his razor hitting the sink has me jumping slightly, and I glance at him from the corner of my eye to see him staring at me, obviously pissed.

"Nikki, don't look at me like that. I'm being honest."

"For once." He scoffs out and I stop what I'm doing and focus on him.

"What's that suppose to mean?" I ask.

"I've just heard stuff, Viv, that's all." He informs me and I raise a brow.

"Heard what from who?"

"Vanity said she's seen you out with Duff more times that you've failed to mention to me." He throws.

"Oh, Vanity. The same woman you discredit because she's 'fucking crazy'?"

"She's not lying about that, Vivian, because she has no reason to. It's all in the fucking papers, anyway."

"What are you talking about?" I snap and he raises his brows before stepping out of the bathroom, coming back with a stack of cheap news papers...I'm on the cover of every one, with Duff.

I'm wearing church dresses in a few of them.

Shit.

"I didn't wanna say anything because I get that you're your own person and can do whatever, but you can kinda see why I scratch my head when my wife tells me church service ran late and then shows up on a magazine with another guy.

"Nikki, there's nothing going on." I reassure him, finishing my makeup.

"Then why the fuck have you been lying about it?"

"To avoid this!" I motion between us before grabbing the papers from him and throwing them towards the garbage can in the bathroom.

"If I was spending every sunday afternoon on a fucking date with some chick and lying to you about it, it'd be the end of the fucking world, Vivian."

"Duff isn't just some random person, Nikki. You know him. You're friends with him. Why the hell would anything happen? Do you really think I would do that to you--that he would do that to you, knowing that all you'd have to do is call him out for it publicly, once, and ruin his shot at music?" I ask harshly and he licks his lips.

"Next time you two hangout without telling me about it, I'll do just that. Don't fucking try me, Sixx. You're lucky I'm not kicking you to the curb for this shit." He states, his voice graveling.

"It would make sense for you to do that to me, Nikki, it really would. I stay with you after you treat me like shit, shoot me, ignore me, laugh at my fear for your life and safety and the second you think I'm spending a little too much time with my best friend--completely your paranoid opinion, by the way--I'm an embarrassing whore and you're wanting to kick me out of the house. I swear to God, I have no idea how someone can go from thinking they're God, to being an insecure little bitch."

"I don't care if you hang out with him but fucking tell me the truth about it!"

"Like you tell me the truth about Vanity?! How much time is she really spending at our house, Nikki, because almost every fucking time I go out and come back home, I'm getting whiffs of her perfume and freebase. And I know you aren't just around her to talk. When she's around, so is the crack."

"I'm not listening to this shit." He gives one last swipe of his razor over his skin before he's finished, getting the left over shaving cream off before grabbing his hair dryer.

"Yeah, you love putting the things I do under a microscope but the second Nikki's in the hotseat, it's an invasion of his privacy, right?!" I call after him as he slams the bathroom door behind him when he leaves.

I knew he was bound to find out I was lying to him, but when he did, I expected him to be angrier or make more of a show patronizing me for it. I didn't realize he didn't give much of a fight because he already had the sick gears in his mind turning.

I pull my dress and heels on, stepping through the house to find Nikki.

He's in Karen's room, probably venting to her about me, when I walk in to see him pacing back and forth in front of her bed while she patiently listens.

"Can I talk to you?" I ask him and he just looks me up and down before rolling his eyes, trudging toward me, shutting Karen's door behind him. "You're not an insecure little bitch. You have a reason to be upset with me and I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth about the Duff thing. But you overreact when it comes to me, Nikki, you really do. It's like you can have all the girls around you that you want, and I don't know who the hell they are, but the second a guy even glances at me, you're on the defense. Do you not trust me?"

"You lied to me about it, Vivian."

"To try to protect you."

"From what? There's nothing wrong with you and him hanging out!" He tells me, losing patience. "...Is there?"

"No, there's not, Nikki."

"Okay, then. I don't care. Apology accepted. Go have fun." He carelessly waves his hand to the door, but I know he does care, he doesn't accept my apology, and "go have fun" means "just fuck off and leave me alone."

So I do.

"Alright, bye."

"Bye."

He shuts himself back into Karen's room and I head to my car.

"You're All I Need" was written that night while I was out with Duff and once it was written, Nikki found trouble.

I unlock my car as Duff and I finish leaving the Franklin Plaza after just looking at one of the suites.

"I'm sold." He tells me.

"Really?"

"Yeah, why not." He shrugs and I chuckle.

"Okay, so now what?"

"We wait for a check, and then pack my shit--which consists of three t-shirts and two pairs of pants--and then move in." He says.

"Sounds good." I agree.

"Now, to celebrate..." He starts, thinking for a second. "...food, and then find the guys on the strip."

"Deal." I reply, heading to Denny's.

Once we're done eating, we decide to just walk down the strip in search of at least one of the other four members of Guns N' Roses.

Seeing Duff's car, that Steven borrowed, parked on the side of the street, we find a place to park.

"Rebel Yell" blares through the speakers of the Cathouse once we get inside, and we automatically look in the direction of the bar.

Like we expected, we see Slash, Steven and Izzy, all down drinks.

I pluck Izzy's hat off his head and turn it backwards before tugging at the end of Stevie's hair.

They snap around, and Izzy's lightly hitting my arm in retaliation while Steven's pulling me to him.

"The hell have you been?" He asks me over the music and I brush some of his blonde bangs from his eyes.

"I could ask you the same thing." I tell him, poking at the end of his nose and he kisses my cheek, squeezing me to him for a second.

"I've missed you." He states as Duff and Slash have a brief side conversation.

"Izzy." I acknowledge him and he nods a single time.

"Viv." He replies, taking a sip of his drink.

"Where's Axl?" I ask Stevie, glancing around.

"He's meditating in the bathroom." Steven in forms me and I furrow my brows.

"He's what?"

The blonde looks at me, takes his arm from around me, holds his hands out and touches the tip of his pointer finger to his thumb, closing his eyes for a second, imitating meditation.

"He's meditating." He repeats, obviously finding humor, chuckling when Izzy holds back a smile and knocks him in the arm.

"Better than doing smack in the bathroom I guess." I shrug.

"Oh, speaking of which." Izzy blows smoke past his lips, looking at me. "Nikki and a friend of his is in V.I.P. he came by and said, 'hey' to us and invited us over." He states.

"Why'd you say 'friend' like that?"

"'Cause she was hot." Steven states. "That Vanity chick." He adds.

"Are they still here?" I ask them and Izzy shrugs.

"Hell if I know. She's fucking coo-coo for cocoa puffs, though." Izzy says. "And she's touchy-feely. A little too much."

Izzy didn't like Vanity because he could tell from first glance Nikki and her were fucking around.

The reason he didn't join Nikki in V.I.P that night was because he told Nikki I was more of a man than he ever would be with the shit he was pulling with Vanity.

That pissed Nikki off.

"I'll be right back." I say to them, heading to V.I.P.

I get in, seeing Vanity giving a near strip tease, completely absent from her mind while Nikki completely disregards her, staring off, looking like he just had a hit of junk.

I feel like I'm spying on him, being nosy, and turn to go back to the guys to avoid pissing Nikki off.

"You find him?" Steven asks me and I nod.

"Yeah."

"You find her?" Izzy asks next.

"Yeah. She's really not that bad, Iz."

His eyes nearly bug out of his head as he snaps his attention to me, scoffing out: "what?" in disbelief.

It occurs to him that I'm friends with her and his expression shifts to a sort of sadness before he's finishing his drink and quickly brushing off his demeanor.

He started to slowly distance himself from Nikki after that...that was a low even he wouldn't try to swing to.

Izzy never told me about Nikki and Vanity, not to protect Nikki, but to protect me.

I couldn't be angry at him when I found out he had known, because I knew without a doubt he would have told me had he thought I would have been able to handle it.

The rest of the night ends with me trying to keep a drunk Steven, Slash and Duff out of trouble with Izzy and Axl encouraging their foolery.

When it gets time for them to start going home or either finding chicks to go home with, all seem to disappear...except for Duff.

I'm walking him back up to their apartment, laughing as he almost face plants, stumbling over himself, giving out a sound that sounds almost like Goofy's laugh from Mickey Mouse, only making me laugh harder.

"Sorry." He tells me, grasping at my hand to steady himself so he can get the key for the apartment out of his jacket pocket.

"It's fine." I say when I calm down.

I watch him struggle to get the key into the doorknob.

"That's weird, I usually always can get it in the hole." He says as a joke, and my face turns red as he laughs at himself. "That was a pretty good one."

"Yeah, it was."

"Here, you do it." He hands me the key after struggling some more and I easily unlock the door, causing him to stare at me.

I just smile a little and make my way into the apartment.

"You need help with anything else or you got it?" I ask him as he steps in behind me, taking his jacket off and leaving it in the floor, going to the kitchen.

I pick his jacket up and place it on the couch, going to the kitchen to see him pull a bottle of vodka out.

"No, no." I calmly stop him, gently plucking the bottle from his hands. "You've had plenty for tonight. You're gonna be sick tomorrow." I explain.

"Oh, yeah." He doesn't argue and I put it back where he got it as he leans against the counter.

"Get some sleep. I'll see you later." I order after a second of him just looking me up and down.

"Wait, wait." He stops me, his hand enveloping mine.

"What is it?" I ask him.

"Can we talk about something?"

I feel a lump form in my throat and I blink at him.

"It's really important."

"O-Okay." I nod.

"Viv, I love you." He says. Relief fills me, not even giving a thought to him meaning it differently, and I grin up at him.

"I love you, too, Duff." I say and he scrunches his face up in frustration.

"No, I, like, love you." He repeats, and I raise my brows.

"I-I love you, too."

"That's not what I'm trying to say." He argues, rubbing his face.

"Well, what are you trying to say?" I ask and he groans.

"I love you."

"Duff, I know you do. I said--"

"--That's not what I'm trying to say, Vivian." He starts getting flustered.

"Well, what are you trying to say, Du--" I'm cut off with his lips on mine, despite his sudden move, it's a sweet kiss that doesn't last but a few seconds, not even giving me time to react, once he pulls away.

"I love you." He repeats and it clicks in my mind what he means.

I just slowly blink up at him, the breath taken out of my body as my mind races.

"Duff," I say, catching my breath. "I love Nikki that way."

"I know. And you don't have to feel that way for me, I just needed to tell you, Viv." He says.

"Thank you, but you can't do that again." I tell him. "I'm married. To Nikki. Your friend."

"I only hangout with him because he's married to you."

"Duff."

"I'm just saying. He's a fucking asshole. He doesn't deserve you."

I don't take what he's saying seriously, he's drunk and tired.

My hands hold at his face, making him look me in the eyes.

"Get some sleep. I love you. Goodnight."

I played it off but I was terrified. I drove home that night a sobbing mess. Not because I was confused and didn't know whether to choose Duff or Nikki, I knew not having Nikki wasn't ever an option for me. I didn't want anyone else. But I was upset because I wished Nikki would have been more like Duff.

Once our affair ended, I realized Nikki was like my heroin.

And Duff was my krokodil, which is what some addicts, that are desperate enough, resort to shooting if heroin is unavailable.

It gives the body a bigger high, but does so much more damage than heroin...even if it doesn't feel like it.

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 38

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @ocfairygodmother​

“How much do you think Kyle knows?” Esme asks, several hours later as she stands at the end of their bed with Addie in her arms. Her body sways from side to side; the movement solely to calm her shaky nerves baby, the baby already fast asleep. Her voice is low; eager to keep any eavesdroppers -especially little ones- from hearing their conversation.

“Might not know anything,” Tyler replies, as he slips into a pair of cargo pants, tending to the zipper and button.

“What’s the chances of that?  Considering all the time he’s been spending over there, getting to know her. In the biblical sense.”

“How long were you able to hide what you did for a living from your family?”

“That’s a valid point. But I didn’t live under the same roof as them. And Kyle’s been over there every day for a week and a half; we barely see him. Can you be with someone THAT much and still be totally oblivious?”

“Maybe she’s really good at her job and knows how to keep things on the down low. She fooled us, didn’t she?”

“I’d just like to take this opportunity to swallow my pride and admit that you were right all along. You didn’t trust her from day one. “

“You called me paranoid and overprotective,” he reminds her.

“Usually that’s all it is,” she reasons. “You can be VERY paranoid and overprotective. I thought you didn’t want some strange all up in your personal space. You don’t like people disturbing your happy place.”

“You can’t tell me you didn’t think there was something...off...about her.”

Esme shrugs. “I thought maybe she was just eccentric and outgoing. Friendly.”

“Overly friendly. Like she was trying too hard.”

“Well you ARE a tough nut to crack. I guess it is sort of strange that  she seemed so hell bent on being friends with you; you’re not exactly the warmest and most welcoming person. And the whole thing wanting to touch you all the time,” she frowns. “I mean, I can’t exactly blame her for wanting to. I’d want to feel you up too. But she was so...I don’t know...insistent.”

“And you encouraged it. That night she had dinner here.”

“I was joking around and you were a really good sport about it. I just thought she was being goofy and totally harmless. And I was right there. It’s not like she was being sneaky about it.”

“Like when she came over here and I was alone and she started making comments about my dick?”

“It’s a very nice dick,” she playfully comments. “Guess she just knows a good thing when she sees it.”

“It was weird. Normally I don’t  mind being checked out, but that was fucked up.”

“Maybe she wanted to bang you and see if you lived up to your man whore reputation,” Esme teases, and he gives a small laugh and snags a belt from the closet; slipping it through the loops on his pants. “I don’t blame her for being thirsty. I’ve been thirsty for seven years and I feel no shame for that.”

“Yeah, but I like when it comes from you. Other people? Not as much. And she’s a little…”

“Overbearing?”

“That works.”

“I don’t understand how he didn’t hear or say anything,” she muses, watching her husband as he finishes dressing. Shrugging into a short sleeved button down; olive green and fitting ‘just right’ across that broad chest and shoulders and snug around the biceps.  

He’s changed a lot in seven years; physically speaking. Heavier and wider, stronger and more powerful, a touch more gray scattered throughout his hair and in his beard. More tattoos and scars that are still healing; injuries he’d sustained at Michael McMann’s home in Ireland. But the most drastic difference -despite the horrors and struggles with PTSD and everything that comes with it- are with his personality. The edge is still there. The grittiness and the toughness that comes with years of serving in the military and then as a ‘gun for hire’; the often haunted look in his eyes, caused by the things he’s seen and heard and had been forced to do to stay alive. It had taken years for all those walls to come tumbling down; a full time job even after they’d gotten married and having Millie AND the twins.

It had been a struggle for him; opening up to someone, trusting them, allowing himself to have those softer and vulnerable moments. He’d grown up with an abusive father and went straight into the SASR after graduating high school; had a wife that cheated on him regularly, had a child diagnosed with a terminal illness, then made the unfortunate -and entirely selfish- decision to abandon him while he was dying.  But little by little the cracks in that hardened exterior began to spread and grow wider.  He began laughing and smiling more easily; genuine smiles that would light up his face and crinkle the corners of his eyes. Letting go of the constant need to be the strong and stoic one; afraid that too much emotion and showing -and receiving- too much affection made him ‘soft’. Weak.

Slowly he’d come around; his children managing to strip away at the last of the layers that he found it so hard to get rid of. They’d  always been there. The empathy.  The compassion. A heart ten times bigger than his body. Just needing to be reminding that it was okay to expose those sides of himself; to allow himself to feel.

To be human.

“It would be hard don’t you think?” she continues, as she places Addie in her bassinet.  “Keeping that kind of secret when you’re under the same roof?”

We’ve kept a lot of secret things from each other,” Tyler points out.

“That’s different. We have a past and a lot of bad things happened in it. Anything we’ve held back from one another, has been done with good intentions. She’s just over there doing her thing and spying on us and having her colleagues over. She’s probably just been using him to get close to us. Or to find things out about us. Kyle isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer and he wouldn’t twice about it if she started asking him things. If she’s that sneaky…”

“Maybe what’s going on between them is legit. Maybe the dick’s that good.”

Esme grimaces. “Ewww. That is my brother. Let’s not talk about that. He probably could have given you a run for your money during your days as a whore.”

“I was not THAT bad.”

“Bullshit you weren’t! I bet half those scars on your back aren’t even from the job. I bet they’re left behind from some stripper with those tacky long nails that are like daggers.”

He grins, then leans it to press a chaste kiss to her lips. “She was a Sunday school teacher, actually.”

“Yeah, and I bet now she can’t even walk into a church without bursting into flames because of how badly you corrupted her with your filthy ways. I was an innocent, good girl until I met you. And now look.”

“You may have only been with two other guys before me, but there was nothing innocent about you.  What went on those days? Even just that first day? Good girl, my ass.”

“I can’t help it that the voice and the accent brought out the nympho in me,” she says, and directs a swat to his ass before he heads around to his side of the bed. Watching as he removes the Glock remover and its holster from the lock box in the nightstand; slipping the latter onto his right hip before covering it with the bottom of his shirt.

“Better to be safe than sorry,” Tyler reasons, when he catches her observing with wide eyes.

“And if all else fails, she probably has a garden rake you can borrow and kill someone with.”

He smirks.  “It’s not too far-fetched to think maybe things between your brother and Salena are the real deal. What would she have to gain by banging him just to get to us?”

“Orgasms? Hopefully.”

“It makes no sense that she’d do that.  Hook up with him to get to us. That’s way too much work.”

“None of this makes any sense,” she grumbles, and then sheds her housecoat in favour of pulling on  a simple white and yellow striped Maxi dress over her bra and panties.

Tyler doesn’t argue with that.

“Okay, so we’ve established that it is possible Kyle knows nothing. But explain this to me: why would Mahajan give us Ovi if his intention all along was to come after you? Wouldn’t that just put Ovi in harm's way all over again? And why would he wait this long for revenge? The kid’s been with us for six years now.”

“I dunno, babe. He’s got his reasons I guess.”

“It’s been seven years since Dhaka. If he held a grudge against anyone, it would have been Saju. For not taking you out.”

“But he’s dead and I’m still here. So…”

“That line of thinking makes no sense,” she argues. “Why would he wait all this time to exact revenge?”

“Probably to catch me off guard.”

“Hmm...I guess…”

“Or maybe he was waiting until I had a lot to lose. So it would make a bigger impact.”

“That’s just fucked,” Esme declares. “And if that’s the way he thinks, he’s an even bigger monster than I thought. Waiting until a man has a family?”

“More lives destroyed that way,” Tyler reasons.

“That’s messed up.”

“You what kind of people these are. You’ve worked closer with them than I have. You were the one that would go in and make nice with them and get them to trust so you could get the info guys like me needed. You can’t tell me you didn’t hear and some fucked up shit.”

“Of course I did.  But this is different. This is personal. We aren’t talking about random strangers we’ve been hired to help. We’re talking about OUR family. You’re not just some guy off the street that I barely know. You’re my husband. And those are my kids downstairs and…”

“Nothing’s going to happen to the kids. Or you.”

She scowls. “I noticed you didn’t put yourself in there.”

“I gotta do what I gotta do, yeah? Keep you and the kids safe. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Well it matters to me if you’re still breathing at the end of it. And can we not think all doom and gloom? If Salena is telling the truth...if she is who she says she is and she’s working for Neysa and her ‘people’ are keeping an eye on things...maybe things won’t escalate. Maybe it will just be all idle threats and nothing will come of them.”

“You really want to just sit back and hope nothing happens?”

“What else can do?”

He takes a seat at the end of the bed, grimacing at the pain in his knee and the small of his back. “I can eliminate the threat.”

“You said yourself that you can’t just walk into the prison and shoot him in the head. And it’s the people he has doing his bidding  that we have to worry about.”

“So I stop them before they can cause issues.”

Esme frowns. “You’re talking about tracking them down  first? Before they can even get this far?”

“Take them right out of the game before it even starts.”

“That’s a little risky don’t you think? How would you even know who  these people are? I doubt Mahajan is going to willingly give you their names.”

“There’s ways of finding out.”

“How?” she asks, and leans back against the dresser across from her.

Tyler stares at her pointedly.

“Oh hell no!” Esme objects. “I am not getting involved in this.”

“You already ARE involved in this.”

“I am NOT  going to Mumbai to talk to Mahajan.  There is no way I’d be able to get information out of him. Why the hell would he tell me anything? If he really IS after you, he’s going to tell your wife who’s working for him.”

“I wouldn’t let you go there anyway. But you know people. You still have contacts in the game. Probably some that are in India right now.”

“People that I haven’t talked to in years,” she reminds him. “I can’t just call them up and ask them for help. It isn’t the same kind of relationship you have with your contacts. They’re glad to hear from you’; they’re happy you’re even still alive. Mine are hoping I’m dead. That’s a lot of burnt bridges, Tyler. And some of them? Going to them for help would only make things worse.”

“So you give me their names and numbers. I’ll talk to them.”

“And that would be better, how? I lied to them years ago and now I turn around and give their info to a mercenary? You can see why that would be problematic, right?”

“Then just give me their names and I’ll find their numbers another way. I don’t even need to bring you into it. They don’t need to know how I found them.”

“They’d figure it out.”

“Well we need to figure out who these people are. The ones working for Mahajan. Before shit does hit the fan.”

“WE don’t need to do anything,” she informs him. “Let Salena and her people take care of it. It’s what they’ve been doing, right? Keeping an eye on things?”

“I’m not going to trust complete strangers with your life. Or our kids’ lives. I’m just not.”

“So you’re just going to find out who these people are and hunt them down one by one?”

“If I have to.”

“Tyler...no...just no. How is that even an option?”

“It’s the ONLY option.”

“The hell it is! Salena and her people are already on this!”

“And I already said I don’t trust them. Not with you, not with my kids. I trust myself. And a couple other people. That’s it. And I’m not going to just sit back and and wait for things to go to shit. I need to stop it before it happens.”

“You don’t know that anything is going to happen.”

“I’d rather not take the chance that it will.”

Sighing heavily, she crosses her arms over her chest.

“You trust me?” Tyler asks.

“Of course I trust you. You're the only person I do trust. But I also love you and I don’t want to just send you out there to  get killed. These are bad people. Extremely bad people.”

“I’m not some rookie going in blind,” he reminds her. “This is what I do. It’s who I am.”

“No. It’s part of who you are. There’s a difference.”

“And right now, I need to be that ‘part’. I need to be the old Tyler. And I need you to be okay with that. I’m not doing this because I want to. I’m doing it because I have to. You’re my wife. Those are my kids. And without any of you, I’m nothing. Which is why I need you to let me do this.”

Another sigh. Heavier this time. Resigned. “Can we at least give it two weeks? For the kids? Because we’re going away next week and then it’s Millie’s birthday shortly after. And we can not take that away from her. She’s a little girl. And she’s so happy and so excited and it’s going to break her heart enough when you leave and I’d rather her not find out until AFTER her party. Can you do that at least?”

He nods. “But if anything happens…”

“If anything happens then you go and take care of it. But for now can we just act like nothing’s going on? For them? Because they're kids and they don’t need to worry and stress over adult things. Can we just pretend around them that everything’s fine? Because it’s going to be hard enough when you leave without the anticipation of it hanging over their heads. Please? Can we do that?”

“Of course baby.”

He reaches out and takes hold of one of her hands, gently tugging her into him, placing her between his legs. And he presses a kiss to the inside of her wrist and then wraps both arms around her waist; pulling her tight against him, forehead resting against her chest. Eyes closing as he feels her hands on him. First in his hair. Fingers combing through it before her nails lightly scratch against the nape of his neck, then the tips running softly over the outer edges of his ears.  And when her palms come to rest against his cheeks, he looks up at her, attempting a reassuring smile when he finds those huge dark eyes filled with tears.

She’s silent as he watches her. Fingertips travelling over the older scars that mar his face; the one across the bridge of his nose, then the left side of his forehead, followed by the one alongside his left. Then she moves to the one that he’d sustained during the incident at Michael McMann’s house. Starting at the top of his right eyebrow;  spreading up onto his forehead and disappearing -for several inches-  into his scalp.

She kisses him. So soft and sweet sweet...the tenderness and the love so evident...that it takes his breath away and nearly brings tears to his eyes.

“I can’t lose you,” her voice is just above a whisper. “I just can’t.”

“You won’t,” he says. “I promise.”

She manages a small smile and places a kiss on his brow. And he tightens his hold on her; falling backwards onto the bed and tucking her securely into his chest; one hand on the back of her head, the other on the small of her back. Feeling her body trembling against him and the tears that dampen the front of his shirt.

****

She plays the part of a perfect hostess; bringing out carafes of coffee and tea and a jug of ice water, along with plates of various small desserts and finger foods.  Tyler had noticed the drastic change in her the moment she’d answered the door. Her usual flowing and brightly colored sundresses or tropical themed shorts and band t-shirts replaced with well tailored dress slacks and a crisp white blouse; her usual bare footed approach abandoned in favour of a pair of black heels. But her personality change is the most baffling.  No longer loud and boisterous and bordering on obnoxious, instead both soft AND well spoken. Now that  the truth is out -or at least part of it - she no longer has put on the front of the affable, annoying, and overly friendly new neighbour. Now she’s professional and courteous. Polite. And almost too apologetic. A continuous string of “I’m sorry” and “I wish things hadn’t come out this way”  as she led them out onto the back deck. Telling them help themselves to food and drink before disappearing back into the house.

“Is it just me or did things just go from weird to really fucking weird?” Esme whispers to him as they sit side by side; their knees touching and his hand on the small of her back.

It’s comforting. The simple brush of his body against hers and his familiar scent; filling her with a sense of security and effectively calming her nerves.  He won’t leave her side now, making sure she’s always close enough to touch, never out ear shot and certainly not out of eyesight. His protective nature kicked in high gear.  And for good reason.

“It’s not just you.”

“It’s like we’re living in the Twilight Zone,” she mutters, and then issues a long, shaky sigh.

“It’s okay,” he assures her, as he rubs the small of her back. “Everything’s going to be fine. The worst could have happened already. If she was working for the other side, she would have had guys here to ambush us the second we walked in.”

“How do you know they’re not hiding inside for the perfect moment?”

“Not a rookie, remember? You have to trust me,” he  presses a kiss to the side of her head. . “Just trust me.”

She manages a small smile and leans into him. A hand resting on his thigh   and his lips lingering against her temple; hand slipping off her hip and up onto her side, rubbing comfortingly. Selfishly he enjoys having this role in her life: the fierce and loyal protector. It’s an ego boost knowing that she has that much faith and trust in him.  And he knows he’s more than capable of living up to her expectations; confident in his strength, skills, and abilities.

“I promise none of it has been tampered with,” Salena comments upon her return, noticing that their cups remain empty and the food hasn’t been disturbed.  “As I said earlier, I’m not here to hurt either of you. Or your children.”

“So why are you here?” Esme asks, her hand slipping from Tyler’s thigh as he moves beside her; pouring himself a coffee and her a tea. “And why the big production? Why show up out of the blue and act as if you wanted to be friends? You could have  just been honest right off the hop. You think it would have bothered either of us? This isn’t the first time someone has threatened us in the past seven years.”

“I know it isn’t. I know everything there is to know about the two of you. About everything that went down in Dhaka; start to finish. And I know about your little return there. About Mumbai and Ireland and New Zealand. Information is easy to get when you know the right people.”

“And when you’re willing to pay big for it,” Tyler adds. “Something tells me Nik Khan helped you out quite a bit.”

“Nik and I have a very good working relationship, “ Salena admits, and Esme gives a derisive snort. “I don’t approve of her transgressions. Or attempts at them. But as far as business goes, she’s one the best there is. And we trust her completely.”

“Who is we?” Tyler inquires. “And who are you? Why don’t we just cut the shit and get down to it. You wanted us here to talk, so talk.”

“My name...my REAL name...is Allison Rav.”

“Rav?” Esme arches an eyebrow. “You’re related to Saju? How?”

“Related by marriage only. My husband...ex husband, I should say...is Saju’s youngest brother. Former special services as well. We parted on good terms and have remained friends. And business partners. After Saju died...correction, after he was murdered...Anil left the military and started things up; in Saju’s memory. A way of both honoring him and avenging him. This…” she lifts up one of the plates of food and removes a file folder -one of many- from underneath. “...is everything there is to know about it. About us. About who we are and what we do.”

She offers the file to Tyler and he accepts it; dropping it into the empty chair beside him.

“Are you a mercenary?” Esme asks, her body and nerves starting to relax; comforted by the mention of Saju’s name and the woman’s connection to him.

“Far from it,” Allison gives a dry laugh. “None of our people are. We strictly provide security. We’re trained to assess potential threats and stop them before they happen. But we do seek out mercenaries; when things because too volatile and need...permanent...results.”

“When you want guys like me to go in and put our asses on the line and get blood on our hands.” Tyler smirks.

“Our area of expertise and concern is providing support to those being harassed and threatened by the Mahajans and the Amir Asifs of the world. And there’s a lot of them. So when Neysa contacted us and said that she was receiving threats of bodily harm and death against her and her son, we didn’t hesitate to help. We have her and Aarav in hiding. A safe house just outside of Mumbai.”

“You really think that’s smart?” he asks. “Being that close to Mahajan and his people? Doesn’t leave much room for error. Why not move them somewhere further away? Other side of the world if you had to. Doesn’t make sense for them to be that close.”

“It’s what she requested; to be close to home. We move them when...and if...we have to. We ended up here..I ended up here...when Neysa ‘disappeared’ and Mahajan’s people lost track of her. That’s when he changed his game plan, so to speak. His first thought was that she came here. What better place to hide them with someone who could protect her and Aarav if need be? The person who worked with Saju to get Ovi out of Dhaka alive. What a turn of events THAT was. He was supposed to eliminate you and in the end you worked together. Not what Mahajan expected.”

Tyler gives a tense smile. “How about we NOT talk about Dhaka.”

“Fair enough,” Allison agrees, and pours herself a cup of coffee. “When he thought she’d come here, we were ready. We already had eyes and ears on the situation. He hadn’t sent anyone here or sent out any official threats, but we knew it was going to happen. So we acted first and got here as soon as we could. But things ARE picking up. He is escalating things. This is a man hell bent on revenge and will stop at nothing to get it.  You both know what these kinds of people are like. They don’t care if there’s a woman and children involved. They’ll be their first targets to get to who they really want.”

Esme issues a heavy, shaky sigh and Tyler gives her a small, reassuring smile; arm wrapping around her, palm softly and comfortingly rubbing her shoulder.  “It’s been seven years,” she says. “Why now? Why wait all this time? And why Tyler? Mahajan gave us his son. So Ovi could be safe and have a normal life. A real family. Why would he let us have him if this was his plan all along?”

“There’s two reasons,” Allison replies. “The first is that Saju failed his mission. Yes, he helped get Ovi out of Dhaka. But he didn’t eliminate everyone standing in his way. He wasn’t supposed to leave anyone alive. You two survived. And I understand why he didn’t kill you; he would never harm a woman in that way. I’m sure he looked at you and thought of Neysa and realized he couldn’t go through with it. But you…” she looks at Tyler. “...you put up one hell of a fight. He didn’t expect that.”

“What’s the second thing?” Tyler asks.

“Did Ovi tell either of you that his father has been in contact with him? On a regular basis?”

Tyler frowns. “What?”

“Even behind bars, Mahajan still holds a lot of influence and power in the drug world. He has a lot of money stashed away in several offshore accounts. Enormous amounts of money. He needs someone to run the business now that it’s booming again. And what better person to be his successor than his only son? But that kid is tough. Resilient. He isn’t giving in. He wants nothing to do with that kind of life and isn’t afraid to tell his father that. Which naturally has enraged Mahajan. He’s taken it as a sign of disrespect. Dishonour. And he’s not going to let that slide. He feels the only thing standing in Ovi’s way...preventing him from doing it...is the two of you. But especially you.” she nods in Tyler’s direction.  “He thinks Ovi is completely under your influence and is only saying no because of you.”

“I’m starting to finally see why he wants into the game so badly.” Tyler says to Esme. “It isn’t about the actual job or the money. It’s about being able to protect himself. And us if he has to.”

“That’s why he didn’t want to tell us,” she laments. “Or why he gave us such bullshit excuses. Because he knew he’d have to tell us that he’s been speaking to his father.”

Tyler nods.

“Mahajan wants the obstacle removed,” Allison continues. “He really just wants Tyler out of the picture; he’s the biggest hurdle and true threat. And it would be a way of righting Saju’s wrongs. That’s why we’re here. To prevent any of that from happening. We’re here to protect you. Not hurt you.”

“I’m more than capable of protecting my own family,” Tyler informs her. “I don’t trust just anyone with this. And I’m especially not going to trust you. You could have just told us all of this right from the beginning. Not put on some big, ridiculous show.”

“Neysa asked us to keep this quiet. She didn’t  want to scare either of you. Or your kids. And now that you’re getting back into the mercenary business, there’s an even bigger target on your back. Mahajan sees that as a direct threat.”

“He can take it whatever fucking way he wants. I don’t care if you and your people stay on the sidelines or keep in the background. But I’ll protect my own family. I’m more than capable of doing it and I know my wife and my kids trust me. They know I’ll keep them safe. Better than any of your people can.”

“He’s right,” Esme speaks up. “There’s no else I trust with my life. With my kids’ lives. And we’ve got people working for us that can always lend a hand if they need to. We don’t need perfect strangers fucking things up.”

“We’re highly trained,” Allison argues. “We’re more than capable of...”

“Tyler can do it. And that’s who I WANT doing it. I don’t care how highly trained you or your people are. No one can protect us the way he can. No one. And if that pisses you off and you pull your people out of here…”

“We’re not going anywhere. Neysa wants us here and this is where we’re saying.”

“I want to talk to your ex husband,” Tyler says. “There’s information I need. About who is working for Mahajan. Who these people are he has after us.”

“Anil expected you’d want to speak to him. That you would  have a lot of questions for him. All his contact information is in the first folder I gave you. There…” she pulls the other files from under the plate of food. “...are your files. Everything we have on the two of you. There’s also  a file about Dhaka and everything that went down there. And one with copies of all the threats that have been made so far. To Neysa and to you. I trust this information will be in good hands?”

Tyler nods and accepts the folders, placing them with the initial one she’d given him.

“We kept this secret because  that’s what Neysa wanted,” Allison explains. “She didn’t want to alarm anyone. So I HAD to put on a good show. I had to get myself into your life. I had to get close to all of you and get you to open up to me and tell me things. And I know that you know what that’s like, Esme. Having to lie to people; fool them. Having to trick them into giving you what you want.”

“And my brother?” she asks. “What about him? You used him to get to us? He broke up his engagement for you. And all along you were just using him? Why did you have to stoop THAT low?”

“We do what we have to to get what we want. Kyle has no clue about any of this. I’d like to keep it that way. Because he’s a good guy and there’s feelings...legitimate feelings...involved now. On both sides. It started out as part of the job, but it’s become more. So much more.”

“Yeah…” Esme smirks. “...sure it has. Can we go now?” she addresses Tyler. “I really want to go. I’ve heard enough and I just want to get the hell out of here.  I just want to go home.”

“We can go,” he confirms, and then gathers the folders off the chair and stands up. “I don’t want any of your people near my house,” he informs Allison. “I don’t want them watching me or my wife or my kids. Especially my kids. You tell them to back off. That I’m more than capable of protecting my own. Because if they get in the way and totally fuck things up? If that happens? You’ll end up a few employees short because I won’t hesitate taking them out too.”

Allison nods in confirmation, then stands as well. “We’ll continue to keep an eye on things. Just as Neysa asked. And if you need our help…”

A smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he lays a protective hand on the small of his wife’s back. “I won’t.”

[drethanramslay]

Part 5: Life and Death

Pairing: Aurora x MC (Iris Everette)

Word count: 4.2 K words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Warning: Physical Abuse, Emotional Abuse, torture, mention of suicide, violence slight description of blood. This chapter takes a dark turn and I am warning you guys.

Author's note: I usually keep this for the end but I just wanted to say, keep a box of tissues on standby.

Taglist: @miyakokurono @agent-breakdance @trappedinfandoms @vampiregirlsblog @openheart12 @sekizincimektup @lilyofchoices (let me know if you want to added or removed from the tag list)

Songs: Iris by Goo Goo Dolls , Numb by Declan J Donovan , Forever and Always by Parachute

Forgive me if there are any mistakes

"Seems like we will be here for sometime." Aurora said as she slid down to sit on the floor. Iris sighed as she sat opposite her.

A beat of silence passed over them, no one knowing where to start. Many times Iris opened her mouth and closed it like a goldfish, but nothing came out.

How did we come to this?

"I'm-" Iris began.

"Sorry." Aurora blurted out.

"What are you sorry for? You didn't do anything!!"

Aurora stammered. "I-I- I am so sorry that I called for a break when you were going through shit. I am so, so horrible and such a ginormous asshole-"

"NO." Iris moved towards and held her hands. "Do not for a second think that you are an asshole. You are an angel on this earth. A fucking blessing for my worthless self. You are- just...wow. I am so fucking lucky to have met you."

Aurora gave a small giggle. "You are not worthless babe." Iris smiled.  If she had a future, she would have spent all of the time making her smile and laugh.

"God I missed making you laugh so much.."

"I miss you too... You and me...are we good?"

Iris gave a fragile smile before sighing. "All my life, I have been alone. I had learnt from a young age that the world is evil place and that you can only depend yourself...when you left me, I could have spent a few days moping around and eventually gotten over you. It would have sucked but I would have been okay."

"Are you saying that you don't want me anymore?" Aurora's bottom lip quivered.

"No...the old me would have packed up and moved on....But I don't want to do that anymore. I don't want to live alone anymore. I don't want to run anymore. I want to be with you. I want to see you happy. I want to share the good, the bad and the ugly..."

Aurora leaned forward and hugged Iris. Iris clutched on to her like she was the anchor in this shit storm. Aurora placed a kiss on her crown. A pregnant pause later, Aurora spoke up.

"Adara...what did you mean by 'don't waste tears on a dead woman'? Are you....sick?"

Iris sighed. "No I am not sick. Just that my luck is fantastic... Guess it's story time because I am just tired of hurting you and me.."

"I was adopted by Grayson Alejandro and Francesca Everette- Alejandro. My mom could not have babies as a result of a bad accident that's why they were forced to adopt. My mom loved me as if I was from her own womb, and not for a single moment did she make me feel neglected. She would sing me Spanish lullabies and hold me when the thunder would scare me. There will always be a place in my heart for her." Iris teared up a little. Aurora squeezed her tighter, not letting her go.

"My dad? Not so much. He always resented my mom for a problem which wasn't even her fault. And he hated me, because to him, I was just an outsider stealing away all his wife's love. He had his days when he he actually acknowledged that he was a  father and was a good husband... But those were so rare that I could count those instances on one hand.

When I turned ten, his business started dipping into losses. He made couple of bad investments, which just made situations worse. Instead of using his fucking brain and doing something about it, the fucker would go and get drunk. Initially, he would just head to his room and sleep it off... But then, shit hit the fan."

Iris took a deep breath, bracing herself to continue the story.

"I was home alone one day, just doing my homework on the dining table. My mom had gone out to get groceries. I was pretty comfortable staying by myself. He entered home, drunk as usual but, he was angry. I could feel his wrath, emitting from him like seismic waves. He wanted to vent it out. And what is better than a small ten year old girl-" Iris choked.

"He picked me up by the scruff of my neck and threw me across the room. I hit the wall hard and landed on my side. I was in shock. I didn't understand what had I done. When I proceeded to ask him what was wrong he became even angrier. He grabbed me by my hair and slapped me, screaming that 'I' was the reason behind his ruin. That I was just a cursed child."

"I ran to my room when I heard my mom's home keys jingling. I went to the adjacent bathroom and tried to provide first aid as best as I could. I had such a nasty bruise on my hip, that I couldn't sit for a couple days. But I played it of, and prayed that this was a one time thing."

"It again happened within three month's time. The frequency and the intensity of the beatings slowly increased. He broke my left wrist twice in a matter of eight months. He had become daring and it was becoming hard to hide it from my mom. I didn't want her to know this. She was already stressed with the financial situation and I didn't want her to be beaten up by Grayson."

"I had turned thirteen and that was the first time he made me bleed. Earlier it was just throwing me around, kicking me and a ton of nasty bruises. It was so bad. I think I had forgotten to switch off the hallway light that one night. So, he stormed into my room and dragged me out to the kitchen. He bent me over the kitchen counter and he took a steak knife-" Iris sobbed. Aurora was flabbergasted. She had tears streaming down her face.

Iris took a deep breath to centre herself. "The scars you see on the back of my legs? That was his tally. A track on how many times I misbehaved. I have 24 full lines and a half. I just lay there screaming till my throat was sore but he didn't once stop." Iris' hand unconsciously reached for the back of her legs, feeling them through her scrub material.

"Did he ever r-"

"Thankfully no. Otherwise I would have ended my damn life."

Aurora sobbed. "Please don't talk like that Adara..please.."

"I'm sorry Rory..." Iris kissed he cheek as they lay in each other's arms.

"He used to beat me up when my mom was not around. One day, she found him and the meltdown that happened..." Iris shuddered at the memory.

"Did he ever abuse your mom?"

"Emotionally? Yes. Physically? He just backhanded her once when she tried to step in. After he was done beating me black and blue, my mom would tend to my injuries. She would cry and try to kiss them better. She always put forth a strong front, to keep our hopes alive and to keep me motivated. But we knew, that nothing would ever be okay as long as he was around."

"When my mom was hospitalized, god, it was hell. He stopped me from going to school. He would lock me in my room, give me food once a day. He didn't allow me to go meet my dying mother. He tried breaking my spirit by making me weak so that he could easily treat me as his punching bag. Some days I was so bruised that I looked like a Dalmatian."

Aurora was full fledged crying. Ugly sobs poured out of her, her heart breaking for this beautiful trauma in front of her.

Iris continued, rushing to unload all her baggage. "When I got that call that she was going to die, I escaped through my window. I ran to the hospital just in the nick of time. My mom had tears in her eyes when she saw my state. I held her in my arms and comforted her, just like she used to do for me... She told me that she had collected money which was just enough for me to finish high school and get through college. She gave me her will, because she trusted absolutely no one. She apologized for not being brave enough. She told me to never let my-"

"-spirit break.." Aurora completed the sentence, remembering the night she stitched her up in the empty hospital room.

"Yeah... I said my goodbyes and she passed away in my arms. When I reached home, entering through my window, he was waiting there. He wasn't even drunk.. that day I got one of the worst thrashing ever. Broken wrist, black eyes what not. He cut of the electricity to my room. He cut the water supply to my room as well. He even went as far as to nail my window shut." Iris blinked and more tears fell on Aurora's scrub.

"How did you get out?" Aurora asked as she caressed Iris's hair.

"My room was facing my neighbor's  window and they were so close that you could look into the room. Two weeks after my mom passed away, a family moved in. My current lawyer, Thomas's room, was facing mine. When I saw him move in, I immediate stuck a help me sign on the window. It took some time but then it finally caught their attention."

"We conversed through the window and I told them everything. Thomas's dad was a lawyer and we slowly came up with a plan. They both came home one day when I was still locked in my room half dead from thirst and starvation. My father greeted them and let them in. They laughed and chatted. Thomas's even asked him if he had any children, and guess what he said... He didn't?! That motherfucker was so mental that he forgot about his daughter who he hit seven ways to Sunday."

Aurora just held on to Iris, kissing her crown repeatedly.

Shit. This just is so fucked up...

"They bugged my house with hidden cameras and microphones. The local police had been informed and they were just waiting for the right moment. And that moment came."

"Grayson was pissed when he came home that day. He unlocked my room and dragged me to the living room. He wanted me to get water for him or something but I was so weak that I couldn't even pick up a tray. So I tripped and fell. And, he went ballistic.”

“He picked me up and threw me into the coffee table. It shattered under me due to the force. The scars on my back, it was because a six inch long glass had embedded in my back. It was so close to my spinal cord that even if it would have moved a little I could have been paralyzed neck down. He kicked me so hard that I fractured my ribs. He brought his favourite steak knife to carve another tally mark. At that moment I thought I was gonna die. And, I wouldn't have minded that. I would be in a happy place with my mom. I would be free from all this."

"I waited for the final blow but it never came. Police had stormed in and they were restraining him. Paramedics were running towards me and then I blacked out."

Aurora shuddered. Her heart ached so much. Thu carry such a painful party, sure would have taken a toll on anyone. Even the most beautiful roses have thorns, to protect themselves from predators.

"Thomas's dad represented me free of cost. They were going to jail him for 25 years but I don't know how, his lawyer reduced it to 12 years. And as he was leaving the court room, he said quote unquote- ' Don't for a moment think that I am going to give up. When I come out, I am going to come for you and kill you."

"After that I stayed with the Mendez family. They were literally blessings on earth. They paid for most of my bills. Mrs, Mendez, after I came home from the hospital, made sure I ate four times a day. And Mr. Mendez employed a home tutor, to cover up the portion left, so that I could graduate on time. And Thomas, god he is such a sweetheart. Initially, if any male touched me I would go into a full fledged panic attack. He would always be there whenever I had an attack... He would watch shows with me and kept me company whenever he had free time. It had been so long since I felt someone loved me."

"You deserve every good thing in this world Adara. You are always worth it."  Iris gave a fragile smile.

"Thomas had gotten out of law school and I was his first client. I had to go through intense physiotherapy to regain my strength. I was in and out of hospitals, be it for follow-up surgery or therapy."

"Therapy helped a little but I don't think anyone can every get over something like this. I discontinued it when I entered med school because I wanted it to be a fresh start. I could have gone and worked in Seattle or any place I wanted but I came back to Boston. To my roots. To be closer to my mom. And now, he is back. I was running from him when you found me."

"Oh MY GOD. I AM GOING TO KILL THAT SON OF A BITCH. LIKE HOW DARE HE TRAUMATIZE MY GIRLFRIEND!! THE HELL HE IS GONNA LAY A SINGLE FINGER ON YOU. HE IS GONNA CATCH THESE HANDS I-" Aurora's angry rant was interrupted by a giggle.

She looked down and saw her giggling. "Gosh. OMG you look as angry as a little kitten. So cute." Iris giggled again.

"Hey! These hands can giveth life and taketh them as well."

They laughed a little more, before they settled in a comfortable silence.

"Why do you think people say I love you?" Iris asked.

"I dunno man. Maybe because they love each other." Aurora snorted, kind of confused by the sudden change in topic. Her heart was beating faster.

Oh it's happening. Aurora stay calm. STAY FUCKING CALM.

"Yeah I know but I honestly feel there is a difference in 'I love you' and 'I'm in love with you'. The former is with family and friends who most of the times stay loyal to you. But the latter is when you have romantic feelings towards a person. It is just so weird y'know? There is just a difference of one word yet the meanings are so different."

"That's true. But why the sudden change in topic? Not that I mind." Aurora asked breathlessly.

Iris turned towards Aurora with vivid green eyes. "Because I am in love with you Aurora Lucille Emery."

Aurora's breath had been taken away for the second time that evening.

She loves me. SHE FUCKING LOVES ME.

With tears in her eyes, she cupped Iris' face, "I am completely and utterly in love with you too Iris Adara Everette. I have been since the day you broke Vincenzo's hand. I loved you even when we were on a break. And I will, continue loving you till the last breath."

The way Iris' face lit up, was one of the best things she had ever seen in the world. Their lips met and they could feel firecrackers burst around them, their hearts bursting with the amount of love they had for each other.

They were sitting on the floor of an elevator, which was stuck in a storm, but nobody gave a damn.

This was their moment.

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

"So what do we do Thomas?" Aurora asked as she rubbed Iris' back. They were in Ethan's office, deciding what is the steps they need to take. Ethan was pacing in the office, his eyes looking like a slow brewing storm.

"Well first of all, we are going to apply for a protective order. Iris I know how you feel about it but that was a decade ago. The laws now will protect you better. Trust me." Thomas spoke in a very somber voice.

"Okay. Tell me what I need to do." Iris took a deep breath.

"Grayson was made aware of the restraining order filed against him by you. And since he violated them twice once by calling you and the second time by showing up at your work place, we can hold charges against him and that can throw him in a holding cell temporarily."

"That's good right? We need more time so that we can send his ass packing into prison." Aurora spoke with such determination that Iris was blown away.

"Now, Iris correct me if I am wrong, he threatened you, right?"

"Yes. He said that he would kill me. I can send you the voice recording now if you want."

"Yes, that would be perfect. Now I want you to listen to me carefully. I know that no court would be open now. So, go home and get your evidence ready. You will go to court the first thing in the morning tomorrow and sign the affidavit asking for the Protection Order. They will give you temporary one before they set a date for hearing."

"Do you have your restriction order on you right now?" Thomas asked.

"I have it with me. I will send a photo." Ethan piqued in.

"Good, good. After you assemble your evidence, go and stay in a hotel for the night. Take a friend or your girlfriend with you. It's so that nobody can get caught as collateral. And you can stay safe."

"Ethan and I will take her home and then head to a hotel." Aurora spoke into the phone.

"Yes. And I will be coming down tomorrow as soon as possible, 'kay? Luz would like to meet her aunty Iris as well."

Iris gave a small smile. "Thanks Tommy. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, bye Iris. Please stay stay and don't you fucking die."

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"If you don't come down in five minutes, I will call the police and the fucking army to storm your penthouse. And no, I'm not taking any criticism." Aurora spoke in a stern voice.

"Yes ma'am." Iris gave a fake salute. Despite things being bad, she felt some hope. Hope that this could end once and for all.

Hope. What a wonderful thing.

"I am going in with her." Ethan said as he unfastened his seat belt.

"Okay let's go." They both stepped out into the Boston night. Iris took a deep breath, smelling the night wind with hints of the sea. When she stepped into the lobby, she expected to see Hugh, their security guard but he wasn't there.

Huh. Strange. Must have gone to take a leak probably. Iris brushed off her doubts.

They stepped into the lift and she pressed the button to the penthouse level.

"Thank you Ethan."

"For what?"

"For helping me. You are my boss and you didn't have to-"

Ethan rolled his eyes and stopped her. "Shut up Everette. You are like a younger sister and I would really like to to see that asshole behind bars. So relax."

They reached the her home and she unlocked the door and entered.

"Go and get your stuff. I will be waiting in the living room."

Iris turned to head towards her room. She started packing her old papers, her restriction order and enough clothes for a night into a messenger bag. She was fast and thorough in her work. She was about to head out of her room when a crash and bang stopped her in her tracks.

It could not have been Ethan. Ethan was not clumsy and he had the hands of a surgeon. Stable and sure.

She picked up her trusty pocketknife and hid it in the sleeves of her leather jacket. She knew it wasn't much but it would atleast help her evade the attacker.

She slipped into the darkness, walking softly, making sure her footsteps weren't heard. She almost screamed when she saw Ethan's body, lying face down. She quickly rushed to his side, bend down and pressed two fingers to his neck.

She felt a pulse. It was weak but he would survive.

In the quiet environment of the penthouse, she heard the soft click of a gun. She froze in her place.

"He will survive. Didn't do much damage. But can't say the same about you mija. Get up. No funny moves."

Iris slowly got up. While she was at it, she sneakily speed dialed Aurora's number, so that Rory could hear some part of the conversation and call the police.

"Lift your hands."

She raised her hands above her head and turned around. "Grayson." She spat his name. She hoped that she won't be stick with this guy for a long time.

Stall him. Attack only when necessary.

"God you need to start showing me some fucking respect." He slowly stepped out of the shadows.

"I don't show respect to dickheads."

"Wow. When did you get so ballsy? The old you would be whimpering on the floor."

"I grew up. Matured with time. Can't say the same for you. You look like a wrinkly ball sack."

God Iris why can't you for once use your fucking mind and shut your trap. It's a life and death scenario, dammit.

"I'm gonna enjoy tearing you limb by limb." Iris looked around, assessing the place. The entrance was blocked by him and there was no point running into her room because that would be nothing but a dead end. The only place which looked like a safe bet was the kitchen island, where Sienna's knives set was placed. Finding the fastest route she turned her flashing eyes towards him.

"Try me bitch."

He let out a war cry and started shooting at her. Iris ducked and lithely slipped behind the island counter. She felt a twinge of pain in her arm, where the bullet grazed her but she didn't pay any attention to it. She grabbed the sharp knife and waited with bated breath.

I need to get that gun a way from him.

"Oh, so we are gonna play hide and seek huh? Ready or not here I comeee." Grayson sang out.

She waited and waited and when she saw his shadow approaching her she leaped out her hiding place and struck his hand, forcing him to drop the gun. She kicked it under the fridge. She vaulted herself with the help of the kitchen counter and kicked him in the chest.

"Now this is a fair fight." Iris gripped her knife tightly and ran towards him.

She sent a flurry of jabs and hook shots on him. He cowered, trying to block the best he could do. Her knife sliced his stomach and blood poured out in copious amount. But that victory was not very long lived. He punched her on the face, momentarily disorienting her. He took the hand with the knife and smacked it against his kneecap, resulting in her to drop her weapon.

"You bitch!!" He aimed for her in the stomach again but this time, she was prepared. She blocked and hit both her hands on his temples. She then thrust her palm upwards, breaking his nose.

"You should plan for retirement, probably in a jail cell asshole." Iris taunted, enjoying the blood gushing down his face. She knew it was sadistic but this man, tormented her for six consecutive years. He deserved worse.

"Aaarrghhhhh!!!" He tackled her and landed on top of her, knocking the breath out of her. He wrapped his hands around her throat and started choking. "I wanted to extend this playtime with you but you aren't being cooperative-" he squeezed some more. Iris was choking and her vision was getting darker on the periphery.

I won't go like this.

Iris started flapping her legs, trying to get a good hit but, Grayson's grip was tight. "Adios, puta."

"Why don't you adios your ass outta here!!" Aurora screamed as she hit his head with a baseball bat.

If iris wasn't half unconscious, she would have found it hot. Coughing, she tried to get large gulps of air into her screaming lungs.

Aurora was relentless, she continued to beat the fucking shit out of him. She hit him so hard that the fucking bat broke. Iris had her jaw on the floor. She tried to get up but a sharp pain went up her hand and leg. She saw that she has another bullet embedded in the meaty part of her thigh, bleeding profusely. Her wrist was sprained and she had a black eye.

Grayson, even though he looked more like human pulp, kicked Aurora's legs out and she fell. That guy is like a cockroach, Iris groaned internally. They wrestled and stood up. There were punches and curses thrown at each other. He was about to attack Aurora when gunshots rang through the air. The police were at the door and they had shot.

Grayson collapsed and groaned in pain. Aurora stood there, catching her breath. She slowly let out a long breath. She turned towards Adara and smiled. She tried walking to her, but she stumbled.

Falling.

"RORY NO!!" Iris dived forward, ignoring the pain in her leg, to catch the falling woman. She caught her in her arms and when she looked down, she saw a knife sticking out from her stomach. Blood was just pouring out fast and pooling around them, like a red halo.

"Rory you fucking idiot." Iris cried out.  She took out her top and pressed against the wounds but, there were too many stab wounds.

That son of a bitch!!

"Don't worry..... Doesn't hurt." Aurora wheezed out, but she winced.

"Don't fucking lie to me. Why would you fucking do that?!" Iris cried out, feeling completely and utterly helpless. She tried to stop the bleeding by applying pressure, but it didn't help. More and more blood poured out, just like a river.

"We need EMT's right now. We have three casualties and two of them are severely injured." The policewoman spoke into her com.

"You...are free...now." Aurora gasped out. The pain was too much. Too damn much.

"What is even the fucking point of being free when you are not there?!" Iris cried as she pressed her head against Aurora's.

"I...love you...so much.. I am so-" Aurora coughed, and blood coating her lips. "-so greatful to have...met you."

"No Rory!! I want to have a future with you. I want to marry you, adopt children with you. Get fat and old with you. Spend every waking moment beside you. I love you so fucking much, I can't see my future without you in it. Don't you get it?! There is no 'me' without you!!"

Tears rolled down Aurora's eyes. At this point, it was hard to differentiate whose tears they were. "I am so lucky...to die in the arms of a...woman I love...nobody gets...that."

The darkness was slowly calling out to Aurora like a siren. It was so so easy to just slip into the other side. So tempting. There was just a single rope tethering her to the world.

Iris. Her Adara. Her little red.

"Rory NO!! You feel fucking stay alive for me okay?! You are gonna fucking fight this and survive. I just can't loose another person I love to that son of a bitch!!"

"It's okay little red... Go live your life for the two of us....Make me ...prou-"

"RORY FUCKING NO!! HEY LEMME GO HEY- RORY PLEASE BABY STAY ALIVE STAY-"

.....

...

..

.

I had to take breaks while writing this because it became so hard to type with blurry eyes.

before you guys come at me with pitchforks, there is an EPILOGUE. Be on the lookout, you do NOT want to miss that.

Thank you for giving me a chance to share this story with you guys:)

[etherealwaifgoddess]

What He Wants (Pt. 7)

Main Characters: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Reader

Summary:  On going series of Bucky getting his shit together and falling in love with you.

Warnings/ Content: Grumpy Bucky cursing, some angst. Nothing terrible though.

Word Count: 1725

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Rock bottom is behind us and our boy is awake and trying to figure out what to do next. He’s still in rough shape but we’re starting the climb back up to a better place. 

If you missed the first few parts, you can read them here: One Two Three Four Five Six

XOXO -Ash

What He Wants, Pt. 7

Bucky wakes up almost a full day later in a sterile white hospital room. It takes him a moment to orient himself in the room, panic filling his chest before his current memories rolled in. It is too similar to waking up in a HYDRA facility, his memories wiped, his body healing from the latest round of experiments they had performed. His breath comes in ragged sobs and he pulls desperately at his hair, trying to focus on the present. 

“Hey Rumpelstiltskin.” You say, startling him. 

His face pales and for a moment you think he’ll pass out again. Just as quickly though his cheeks heat, embarrassed to have his moment of panic witnessed. 

“What day is it?” Bucky asks, his voice full of gravel. 

“It’s Sunday. You’ve been out almost a full day.” 

He curses under his breath but makes no attempt to continue a conversation.

You go on anyway, needing to fill the silence. “We had to evac you to the nearest military hospital, you still had bullet fragments in your leg. You were in surgery for over an hour but they said you’ll be back on your feet in a few days because of the serum. You might have a slight limp for a while though, there was considerable damage to your calf muscle.” 

For the first time since he’d woken up Bucky looks down at his right leg which is wrapped up and slightly elevated in the bed. “At least it’s still attached” he jokes grimly. 

“Not funny.” You chide him. “We’re going to have to talk about what happened.” 

“Why? Shouldn’t you be off hacking into someone else’s brain?”

You let the barb pass, refusing to be baited by someone who currently looks like he can't sit up on his own. “Nope, the mission was a success. I’m back on my own free time now and I’ve decided to hang around and piss you off some more. So, would you like to tell me when exactly you decided to off yourself?” 

“I… I wasn’t… It’s none of your concern. I’ll be out of here by tomorrow and you can go back to pissing off the other people in your life.” 

“Stop dodging. And there are no other people in my life. It’s just me, and all I’ve got is time.”

Bucky winces slightly at your confession. He knows what it was like to have no one but yourself and it is more painful than he’d ever admit. “I’m real sorry to hear that.” 

His sympathy shocks you, as does the pain radiating from him. The agony you had a glimpse of two days ago must have been only the tip of the iceberg for him. “It happens.” You brusquely move on, refusing to let him keep dodging the subject. “You said something before you went down on the compound, a name, Stevie. You were talking to Steve Rogers, weren’t you? Is that what this was all about, losing Steve?” 

Bucky would have rather taken twenty more bullets in the leg than have this conversation with you. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Steve was my best friend and he lived a full, happy life. I’m glad he got to live the life he dreamed of for all those years, even though it meant we lost him so soon.” His words don’t match his eyes and for an ex- assassin he is a pretty terrible liar. 

“But what about you? Your life?” 

“Well, doll, that was almost not a problem. But you had to butt in.” 

“Damn right I did. What about your life, Bucky? Shouldn’t you get your happily ever after too?”

Bucky straightens himself a little at your use of his name. His insides clench curiously at the sound of it tumbling so delicately off your lips. “My happily ever after died the second I fell from that train back in 1944. Every moment since has just been a prolonged purgatory.” 

His words hit you like a ton of bricks but you steel your emotions, not wanting him to see how much his pain affects you in fear he’ll clam up. “I’m sure you still hate me, and you absolutely can, but I have to think that our paths crossed for a reason. I only know what I’ve read in your file and heard of in the news, and none of it adds up to the guy sitting in front of me.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” 

“See, there it is. You act like a tough guy but it’s all bullshit. I promise I won’t go near your mind without your explicit permission but I want you to come back to The States with me. I have a place that’s secure, only Fury knows where it is and he’s a tight lipped son of a bitch.” 

“Why in the hell would I go back with you? Why would you want me to? And I will never, ever, give you permission to fuck with my head. I had seventy years too much of that shit.”

You switch tactics, desperate for him to give himself a chance. “How did it feel, seeing Steve come back at the end of his life? Knowing he had found a way to get married, have a family, grow old with the love of his life. You had what, three months with him before he passed?” 

Bucky’s whole body shakes, he looks so frail under the flimsy hospital gown, dark circles haunting the undersides of his eyes. It’s like your words sapped him of any remaining strength he had. “Why are you doing this?” He whispers, barely holding on to his emotions.

“Because I want you to think, Bucky. Think about what you want the rest of your life to look like. You know what Steve did with his, how happy he was. I know he was ‘Captain America’ and all, but why does that mean he gets a happy ending and you don’t?” 

“If you knew half the shit I’ve done over the past seventy years you would already have the answer to that.” 

“Nope, not buying it. I’ve seen the files and I know what they did to you. You had no choice over what you were doing.”

“Still did ‘em though.” 

“Yes, physically it was you. But mentally you were checked out. That’s how mind control works, and they did a hell of a job on you.”

“He’s still in there, the Winter Soldier. Deprogrammed or not, he’s still lurking, waiting for a chance to pop back out. The world is better off if I eliminate the risk” 

“Bucky, of course he is. He’s part of you, you can’t just erase him. Deprogramming will remove the triggers that bring him out but that’s it. You need to make peace with that. The world will be better off with you in it. You have the potential to do so much good.”

“Like what, huh? What good can I do? Most of the world will never see past the monster and I can’t keep doing these missions. I’m so fucking tired, doll. I’m just done.” 

“So retire. Walk away. This mission payout was high enough to live on for two lifetimes, take it and come back with me.”

“I don’t take money from missions.”

This is news to you. “What? How do you survive without it?”

“Savings. Steve. And the Avengers. SHIELD knows not to deposit my pay, they gift it to a handful of charities I picked out when I signed on. I won’t profit from warfare.” 

Your heart sinks in your chest, he has more good in him than he realizes and you become even more determined to help him see it. “Well, I have enough stashed away from mine to keep us afloat. Do you know what I do back home?” 

“You sound like a fucking shrink.”

“Good call. I work with returning soldiers and trauma victims. I was one year away from graduating with a psychology degree before the attack on New York. The therapy center near my home is kind enough to look past my lack of a degree considering how close I was to finishing and my unique qualifications. I get to use my ability for good, to help people move on with their lives.”

“So I’d just be homework then.” Bucky wonders for a moment how much his life would have changed if you had been there when Steve tried to save him the first time. If you had been able to bring back the past Hyrda erased when they created the Winter Soldier. Your angry snap at him breaks him from his thoughts. 

“Hell no. And stop it. I want you to come back with me because I think once you get your damn head on straight you would be a great addition to our team. You would be able to help us care for some of these guys with a level of empathy that you are uniquely equipped to give.” You purposely squish down the tiny part of you that’s screaming you also want him to come back so you can keep getting lost in those pale blue eyes and help mend his aching heart. 

Bucky shifts, uneasy at your proposition, and forgets they had taken off his metal arm. Where he expects to brace himself, he finds just air and he topples over, scrambling with his right hand to keep himself from falling off the bed. The hole in his right leg pulls and he swears. You’re a mess, he screams internally at himself.

You jump up as soon as you see him tip and grab his shoulder, trying to steady him. He jolts at the contact, staring into your eyes with a mix of fear and surprise that takes your breath away. Bucky shifts himself up, trying to get comfortable and your hand lingers along the wide plane of his shoulder. You rub it soothingly above where the metal starts and he shudders. No one had dared to touch him in years except Steve, and even he never went anywhere near the mutilated part of Bucky’s body. Your soft fingers rubbing at the sore muscles make him want to beg you to keep going. His eyes shut, rolling back in his head for a moment. 

“Okay.” He finally murmurs, startling even himself at the decision. 

Tag List Lovelies: @my-current-fandom-is @blacklightguidesnic @amazonianbeauty

[wolfpawn]

Life is a Game of Risks, Chapter 60

Chapter Summary - Alexianna begins to get morning sickness and not long after; the first hospital visit, leading to the reality of everything hitting home for Tom who is not prepared for the experience, while Alexianna is forced to deal with an issue within her own mind that she has had to fight since this began.

WARNING - CONTAINS REFERENCES TO PAST POST-NATAL DEPRESSION

TRIGGERS - Past domestic abuse, Past emotional abuse, Past sexual abuse.

NOTES - 

a few things; - Morning sickness tends to begin circa 6-8 weeks into gestation. - a pregnancy is usually dated from the beginning of your last period/menstrual cycle pre-conception, so though conception usually occurs halfway through a cycle (*usually* but not exclusively day 14 of a 28-day cycle) so where alexianna can date the conception to a particular event, it is still calculated to 2 weeks previous. - Portland Hospital is the fancy hospital of London, Ben and Sophie's boys were born there, royal babies are born there, the Beckham's kids were born there, translation, it is *the* place to have a baby, and Tom would only want the best for his prince/princess. - In Ireland, and I'm fairly sure Britain, vaginal ultrasounds are *NOT* the norm, I know in some countries they are, but not in this neck of the woods. I have not had a baby in Britain, but from the women I have compared public health services with from here, they are only done, like in Ireland, for particular reasons as it is seen as unnecessarily invasive. - I know I keep dragging Alexianna back to certain things, but like all abuse victims, she is forced to bear scars of her trauma, but she is fighting valiantly to move on.

Previous Chapter

Tags: @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @theoneanna

Request if you wish to be tagged

Alexianna did not have to wait long for the morning sickness to start, and like with Lily, she did not think the title for such illness to be accurate. The first bout of it started on a Sunday afternoon at just over seven weeks. Tom had just returned from Ace Comicon in Arizona. She thought nothing of it as she prepared dinner for them, herself and Tom planning to decide what date to plan for the initial hospital visit, as they were due to have her first check-up, once Lily went to bed. She was innocently seasoning the salmon Tom had brought for their dinner when the smell of the raw fish turned her stomach completely, forcing her to hold her hand over her mouth and pray she did not vomit as she felt herself gag. Tom quickly removed her from salmon duty. He cooked the fish, but every attempt to get into the kitchen for Alexianna resulted in her gagging again, she settled to hide until the smell was gone, then eat some vegetables.

It was at its worst in the afternoon, though six PM seemed to be when the vomiting liked to begin as opposed to just nausea. Tom commented she seemed best when she woke up and very much suggested she work around that, leading to Alexianna eating the most of her day's intake of food between six in the morning and midday. It left her with a very complex situation at work, she was eating throughout her office hours, much to the notice of her manager, who was less than impressed but could say nothing as she still did her work. She also changed all of her afternoon shifts for morning ones when possible and rarely stayed in work past five, opting instead for coming in an hour earlier to ensure she was not there for the evening time, her most ill times. College was more difficult, but she forced her way through it.

The hospital agreed that her best options were to continue as she was doing as she and Tom explained her situation to her Obstetrician on the first visit. Tom had insisted that for privacy and level of care, there was going to be no discussion on the matter, Alexianna would have the baby in Portland Hospital, the private exclusive hospital in London that Ben and Sophie had their sons in, where anyone of note in London had their child in. Though Alexianna stated that the care she received with Lily was quite good, she agreed that the non-existent queueing times, having the same staff throughout the pregnancy was a settling situation and with Tom being who he was, knowing that it would not be slapped on the front page of the paper by midwife before she even had a chance to tell Daniel or even Emma gave her incredible ease of mind.

The midwife spent over an hour documenting every last detail of Alexianna’s medical history, discussing the notes that had been sent from the hospital she had given birth to Lily in and discussing the issue that had forced her to get a C-section. Tom also was subject to questioning on his own health, hereditary diseases in his family and other such details. It took an age to go through it all, as well as getting blood samples from Alexianna to ensure everything was as it needed to be. Tom was every bit the concerned and supportive partner through it all, asking her if she wanted or needed anything, ensuring she was happy with her surrounds, everything. When the time came to get a scan to see if the heart was beating, Tom was practically vibrating with excitement. He seemed transfixed with the gel going onto Alexianna’s stomach, which, he realised the week before, was already getting an ever so slight rounding at the bottom when she stood before the screen began to show an odd grainy image. The doctor moved the wand of the machine around for a moment before clicking on the image.

“There it is, a little camera shy, but in there, all the same.” She smiled. “I will just make sure we only have one before we can focus a little more on measurements. I know this is uncomfortable on a full bladder, and I am very sorry, but we need to be sure.” She moved the wand around Alexianna’s lower abdomen, pressing slightly as she did. “Okay, we do seem to have just one in there. Give me a moment to do my measurements and we can have a better look then.” She pressed on the orb like dial on the machine a few times, taking the length a few times before bringing the screen around so they could see properly. “This is the baby. It is about nine weeks, four days, as your dates would suggest, so your prediction of the first of September is very much accurate. It is no longer an embryo but a foetus now, as no doubt you have read, and that,” she pointed to the centre of the bean-shaped object on the screen, where there was a peculiar movement every second or so. “Is it’s heart. It’s got a good strong rhythm, so that is great. I will print you a couple of photos for you to take away, I dare say your daughter is excited?” She smiled, having read about Lily in the file.

“She doesn’t know yet, but she will be.” Alexianna knew that when they did tell Lily, she would be lucky if she would be allowed to keep even one of the scan pictures for herself. She looked at Tom, wondering why he had gone so silent only to see him staring at the screen. “Tom?” He did not respond. She leant over and touched his hand, causing him to look at her. “Are you okay?”

“It’s actually a baby.” There was a notable amount of shock to his voice.

Alexianna could only give a small laugh as a response. “What were you expecting?”

“It’s just, it’s so real.”

Alexianna squeezed his hand a little. “Is this only hitting you now?”

Tom half nodded, half shook his head. “How am I...Fuck.”

“It can be like that for father’s sometimes.” The doctor nodded sympathetically. “It is so much more real to a mother, since she is the one ill and feeling the changes happening. The fathers tend to only realise when they see the baby on the screen, or in some cases when they are physically holding them.” She rose from the chair. “I need to get some roll to wipe this gel off you, I won’t be a moment.”

Alexianna nodded slightly and watched the other woman leave before looking worriedly to Tom. “Tom? Are you having doubts?”

Tom had gone back to looking at the image on the screen. On hearing her question, his head immediately turned to her again. “What, no. I...are you?”

“No, I am perfectly okay with this now, but you seem to not be. Is everything okay?”

“We made a baby.” He pointed to the screen. “We made a little human being. It’s alive, we made it.”

“I know, I was there.” She joked, she amazed smile on his face told her it was nothing bad that was causing his stunned demeanour. “What else did you think was in there?”

“I just….This is amazing.” His smile grew. "And we get to tell our family and friends soon."

She could only smile in response, elated that Tom was so thrilled with the situation, forcing herself to not allow Jonathan’s reaction into her head. His smile at the news was never as reassuring as Tom’s and she had not felt so sure of how everything would go from one day to the next. With Jonathan, she was always waiting for the man she had married to return, the belittling and horrible man that made her feel worthless, but Tom, he gave no such feeling, and she made sure to remind herself of that. That was something she had been so adamant of doing; reminding herself she had not repeated her past mistakes, Tom was Tom, he was the man she had loved for so long, the boy she trusted so deeply since she was just a child, he was not Jonathan, he never would be. The loving smile on his face, the way he kissed her hand with a loving look in her eyes made her see that, even if her mind sometimes for a brief moment tried to lie to her and say it would be the same, she knew it was wrong. It could be, from time to time. Mr Barrows had told her, our thoughts, as much as they try to convince us otherwise are not always right.

[crashdevlin]

Wishverse- Turn Left

Author’s Note: The reboot begins. A big shout out to @bamby0304 for being awesome, helping talk me through some of this stuff and motivating me to make Wishverse happy, fluffy and smutty as all get out!

Summary: Y/n finds herself back in the beginning of November 2018, and she sets to fixing the mistakes she made.

Pairing(s): none yet

Word Count: 1200

Warnings: mentions of prostitution, mentions of non-con, mentions of PTSD, mentions of cheating (all of these things are bare mentions)

You bit your lip and picked up your cell phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, this is Dean. Is this... y/n?” A little gasp escaped your throat. It was him. It was him and he didn't know you and holy shit, how'd this even happen?

“Yes, I am.”

“I got your message and you're in luck: I'm free that week. But since that's a multi-day event you're asking for and you're a new client, we’re gonna have to meet up, make sure you even like me enough to spend a weekend pretending to be head over heels for me, then we can do details and shit. You busy tomorrow?”

You blinked. You weren't sure what you were doing tomorrow. Your tomorrow was almost eight months in the future… but you knew you were free at 2 PM because that's when you met with Sam at Starbucks. “Not for lunch, I'm not. Why don't we meet up at Biggerson's on Cedar Ave, discuss terms over a couple slices of pie? 2 PM?”

“Oh, you said the magic word, sweetheart. I'm definitely into grabbing pie. 2 PM. See ya then.”

“Okay, bye,” you said, telling yourself you were going to earn back ‘princess’ and turning the cell off. You brought up the news. November 2, 2018. You shook your head in amazement. How the hell had this happened? “Charlie!”

The small redhead padded out of her room and into the living room. “So, who'd you pick? I was gonna get you a date with, uh, Dean. Or Sam.”

“Charlie.”

“Yeah?”

“What is today’s date?”

“Uh, the second all day, why?”

You shook your head. “This is unbelievable,” you whispered.

“What is? That you just hired a hooker? I know! It's completely out of character for-”

“Char, do you believe in magic?” you interrupted.

She turned to you, fully, her eyebrows raised. “Is this you telling me you're a witch and the Wizarding World is real, because I'm gonna be honest, I don't think I would take that too well, mostly because I never got my Ilvermorny letter and if magic is real and I ended up a muggle, I'd be so disappointed.”

You shook your head. “I can't do magic, but I think I've had magic done for me.” You took a deep breath. “When I got up this morning, it was Sunday June 30, 2019. At the end of the day, I made a wish to change things and suddenly it's last year.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You don't believe me.”

“I mean… I'm X-Files, but it's kinda farfetched, sweetie.”

You sighed, then smiled as you remembered something. “On Monday, this coming Monday, Roman stock is gonna go through the roof… like a hundred twenty points.. you're going to get an email saying that all supervisors are getting a percentage bonus because of it. It's gonna come out to a nice, even $1337. You're going to make a leet joke because you can't help it, then you're going to say something about how you have been internetting for far too long. After that, I want you to call me, okay?”

“Wow. You're really serious about this.” Her eyes were confused and intrigued and a little bit scared. “What happened in 2019 to make you wish yourself back?”

You shook your head. “I don't want to talk about that until you really believe me, Char.”

“Okay, well, can we talk about how Wish universes never work out? ‘Be careful what you wish for’ is, like, one of the most overused tropes in fantasy fiction.”

“Okay, true. Counterpoint: that's usually some powerful entity trying to teach the protagonist a lesson, to be happy with what they've got, and I honestly can't think of a single way this wish could make my life worse.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah.” You gave a tight smile. “But I can fix it. I turned right last time, but this time I turned left. Like I should have the first time.”

“Is that a Doctor Who reference?”

“Of course it is.”

“Wait.” Charlie's eyes fell on her laptop. “Is this about the hookers?”

“Escorts, and yes. I'll explain everything on Monday.”

“Okay? Well… who’d you pick?”

“I picked Dean this time.”

“And your first time?”

“Sam.”

“Oh, with the monster cock!” You flinched at her words. “You okay?” she asked, worried.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Everything will be fine this time.” You smiled, tightly, and took a deep breath. Charlie studied your face and you could tell she was warring between her rational brain telling her that you had to be fucking with her, and the nine years of friendship telling her that you just weren’t that good of an actor. You grabbed your phone and headed toward your bedroom. “Don’t worry about it, Char. Just forget it ‘til Monday.”

Your face in your mirror caught your attention as you passed your dresser. The vision of you before Sam, before the twenty-five pounds of stress-induced weight loss, before the sunken eyes from the insomnia, before the loss of yourself… it made you realize just how bad things had gotten.

But this time? This time things were gonna be different. Even if you couldn’t get Dean to want you, even if you never spoke to him again, you could get yourself out of the hole you put yourself in because of Sam… and maybe you could get Adam safe, somehow. Even if nothing came from the blank slate except the opportunity to completely distance yourself from the Winchester family after Thanksgiving, to treat them like a chapter in your book that needed to be edited down to almost nothing… if all that came of this wish was one good weekend with Dean and remembering what could’ve been for the rest of your life, you’d be okay with that.

You wanted Dean, of course, and you were going to use the knowledge of the man gained from six months of alternate timeline friendship to get his attention, but if that didn’t work… at least you weren’t stuck with Sam’s cheating junkie ass. You could move on.

As you lied down to sleep, a knock came to the door. “Hey. How do the midterm elections turn out?” Charlie asked.

“Oh, yeah. That’s in a couple days,” you whispered. “Dems take the House, Republicans keep the Senate. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez gets the vote and becomes the youngest woman elected to Congress. Two Muslim women tie for first Muslim congresswomen, Colorado elects the first openly gay governor. The… oh, what’s her name? You were really excited about… uh, Sharice Davids?”

Charlie squealed and slammed open your door. “Kansas elects a Native American lesbian?!”

You chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, and there’s gonna be another pointless recount in Florida that turns into a meme with the ‘What year is this?’ scene from Jumanji.”

“That’s… very specific.” Charlie eyed you suspiciously and back out of your room.

“And Beto O’Rourke loses!”

“You’re crazy! He’s got all kinds of celebrity support!”

“Guess we’ll see on Tuesday!” you called across the apartment. You got comfortable in your bed and looked up at your ceiling. A blank slate. Eight months of knowing what’s coming. A chance to fix everything, to change everything. “Tabula Rasa,” you whispered, closing your eyes.

KITCHEN SINK TAGS @heyitscam99 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mrs-meghan-winchester @henrymorganme @lonely-skys @allykat2108 @mogaruke @flamencodiva

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HARD TEN TAGS @bamby0304 @rasax45 @shamelesslydean @sculptorofbeginnings @mirandaaustin93

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

WE ARE SAMCRO

Marcus Álvarez x Jackson Teller's sister!Reader

Anon asked: could you write an imagine with Marcus Alvarez in which you are Jax sister and you’re dating Alvarez behind Jax back. and he finds out because he finds you two cuddling

Word Count: 2.6k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

Taking off the helmet growling because of the pain burning in your lower lip, you crossed the wooden door to the bar. The place was full of bikers from Cali and neighboring states with rock music playing through the speakers, and old beer smell in the environment. Some men greeted you with something similar to a reverence, as you walked to the bar. Sitting on a stool, in the farthest corner, you gave your helmet and the Samcro' kutte to James, an old bartender that knew you since ever. Your father used to take you there on Sundays, to play pool with his friends. Now you only used to go whenever you had a bad day, even if your life wasn't good at all. Unsheathing the gloves that covered your hands, you tried to stretch the fingers of your right one with some dry blood on your knuckles.

“Clay?” The man asked offering you a cold gel pad to put it on. You nodded, knowing you didn't need to use any words. He already knew what was happening between you and your mother's boyfriend.

“I need something strong”. You just said, lying your cheek above the forearm supported on the old bar.

Putting an empty glass close to you, James served you a premium whisky before push a little the drink to you.

“Aren't you Jackson's sister?”

Behind you, a mexican accent claimed your attention. Your lips were touching the edge of the glass, drowning a heavy sight there before having a long sip.

“Not tonight”.

Chuckles at your back, trying to figure out at what time you told a joke to make him laugh. You turned your body over the stool with a lot of curses piling up in your tongue, hushing your restless mind when you read ‘Mayans Oakland’ on a leather vest like yours. Shit, the only thing you needed to crown yourself that day. Swallowing saliva, you licked your lips somewhat nervous.

“My apologies, Álvarez”.

You didn't know him, not personally, but you heard about Mayans and his deals with Samcro. And maybe you saw him at Teller-Morrow once, but you weren't sure at all.

“Rough day, mija?”

“I wish”. Crossing a leg above the other, you supported your back against the wood. “I'm fine, okay? Oakland and Charming's deals doesn't include me. You don't have to babysit me”.

Maybe it sounded rude, but you didn't really care about what image he had of you. Sitting up and turning again to gave him your back, you continued trying to enjoy your loneliness on the corner your father used to drink, feeling something closer to him. The amaranth liquid scraping your throat, trying to control some tears that wanted to fall down by your cheeks, made you remember old times you thought you had forgotten. Your phone ringed, sparkling your brother's name on the screen, pushing you loud to reality. And when you were about to hung up the call, a finger with a golden ring in it did it for you. The mexican sat next to you, grabbing your phone to turn it off. You noticed that he wasn't wearing the leather jacket anymore, whilst he was attracting the bartender's attention with the same finger raised up to indicate him to serve two more drinks. After that gesture, he offered you his right hand on air.

“Marcus”.

You looked down to it, doubting for a second until you understood what he was trying. At least, be pleasant. Putting away the cold gel pad over your knuckles, you narrowed his softly, enough to not hurt your hand a little more.

“(Y/N)”.

“Rough day?”

“Most like a hellish one”.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Sounds like I could fix the world telling you my shit”.

“Not at all, but letting go all that shit and drinking four glasses more, you will sleep better”.

“Will you take my bike, ride me home and tuck me into bed?”

━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━

It has been six month since that night when Marcus, without knowing it, saved you. You know he had a talk with Clay that made your stepfather's behavior change with you. You don't know what happened inside the SOA's meeting room, although you're sure that Álvarez didn't tell him anything about you were together, but if he touched you again Mayans wouldn't keep the deal with Sons. And that did not suit Clay. And you started to feel more happy and full of life, especially when Marcus used to come to Charming. It was pretty fun pretend that you were just somekind of friends, or most like a man treating with respect a girl who enjoyed her work as mechanic at Teller-Morrow. But whenever you could hide from prying eyes, you fell a little more for each other. No one suspected about you two.

┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅

Marcus spent the day touring Cali coast from the mexican border and it wasn't on his plans to stop in Charming, being that he should visits Samcro in a couple of days. Oakland was only an hour away, more or less, but stand with you for a night was what he really needed. And you weren't even waiting for him, so it was a surprise when you opened the door and found him there.

At first it takes you some seconds to react, noticing how his face turns to somewhat confused, till you practically jump into him wrapping his body with your legs and his neck with your arms. Hugging him as Marcus guides his feet inside the flat to close the door behind his back, you fill with kisses all his face finally reaching his lips. Catching them between yours in a soft and dearly gesture, you can feel how he melts under all the love you always give him.

“Did you miss me, ah?” He mutters touching his nose with you, keeping closed his eyes.

“Didn't you?” You reply back with some chuckles.

“I'm here”.

Continuing his steps to the huge sofa placed in front of the TV, he lays down there making himself a space between your legs. It's impossible not miss Marcus, seeing him every four or five days with some luck and having to pretend that you're just friends. Leaving some caresses and gentle touches on his scruff and head, you kiss his right cheek as he lets you do whatever you want with him.

“I just wanted to come home, have a shower and sleep with you”. He says drowning a heavy yawn, resting his forehead on your chest. “So, don't move. I'll be back in five minutes”.

“Okay, amor”.

Giving you a last smooth kiss, for the moment, he gets up walking towards the room you usually share, supposing to take some comfortable clothes. Whilst the man is inside the room, you can't help but thinking about how amazing sounded the word ‘home’ in his tongue, giving you some tickles in the stomach. Somewhat inexplicable. You never thought you could feel something like that for anyone, always believing that the only thing you aspired to was being a simple mechanic at the orders of others. From your house to the workshop and vice versa.

When he's done, looking like he's a new man, Marcus accommodates his body with yours wrapping your waist with his arms and tangling his legs into yours. Leaving a relaxed sight on air and resting the head on your chest, he closes his eyes. You can feel how tired the Mayan is, dragging softly your nails above his bare back wanting to make him feel more relaxed. Sometimes you think about the difference between he being alone with you and he being with his crew. You have seen him in action with a gun in his hand threatening whoever, as if he hasn't any feelings, nor even heart. But then, he comes to your house and tell you thousand times how much he loves you whilst preparing you some dinner or cuddling at bed.

“Next month we're going to close an allies' deal with SOA”. He says a little sleepy and lowly. “I think we could stop hiding after it”.

You feel some nerves running through your skin, when you hear those words. You really want to do it. And actually, if no one knows nothing about you to, except some Mayans, it's because you asked him to keep the secret. You don't care about what your mother, nor Jax, nor Clay could say, but because of Mayans deals. You don't want to fuck up his MC. And that's why you feel somewhat scared. You have the feeling or the sensation that could suppose the end of your relationship. And Marcus is the only good thing you have in life. You don't want to lose him. You can't.

“What you think, ah?” He asks then after some seconds in silence, licking his lips as he gets up a little, enough to look at you with your gaze away. “Your mouth can lie to me, but not your eyes, mi amor. Tell me what's inside that brilliant mind”.

“I just…”

Lying by his side over the sofa, Marcus holds you tightly against his body pulling a bristle of hair behind your ear. He's worried, but not as you are.

“I just want you to promise me… that if one day you're between the sword and the wall… choose the MC before me”.

“I'm not going to promise that, (Y/N). Because that's not going to happen and I'm never going to choose the MC before you”. His voice is firm without hesitation, leaving a ephemeral caress on your left cheek, following with his eyes his own fingertips touring your skin. “You're more than a pretty face and an intelligent brain. You're my safe place. And I want you to be my family. I'm not scared of losing everything, if I have you by my side”.

“But…”

“No. There is no 'but' here, (Y/N)”.

Your name is the last word he has to say, ending the talk even if you want to continue. For him, it's enough and he doesn't want to carry on with something it has no sense. He has already chosen you ahead of the rest. You just nod leaning some inches to crash softly your lips above his, whilst his hand tangling in your hair. Sinking your face on his neck, under his chin, you leave some kisses there before falling asleep focused in his calm breathe, as usually when he's at home. There are no nightmares when he narrows you into his arms so warmly you could melt, you don't even has any kind of dream. You sleep placidly like never and waking up pretty rested.

But when you open your eyes, the sofa is empty and cold. Sitting up and rubbing your eyes with the knuckles, you yawn looking around. At the exact moment you find his kutte hanging on a chair, you see next to it a SOA one. Your heart stop, feeling how your skin begins to pale. Walking barefoot and putting on well the Marcus' shirt your wearing, poking the head out the door at the terrace, your heart jumps. Jax is there. Drinking coffee and smoking with the mexican. Swallowing saliva, you take another step outside. They stare at you in silence. You're about to sweat, cry or run away, you're not sure.

“There's more coffee in the kitchen”. Your brother just says. But your throat is full closed.

“You ok?” Marcus asks then, making you twist your neck with confusion.

“What ar—”. You can't finish the question as your brain is collapsing.

There's no blood on the floor, nor a gun on the table. They're simply good. Talking calmly as if they were friends since ever. Walking in silence to the farthest chair from them and sitting on, you rest your forearms above the table. Your brother push a cigar over it, making it roll to you. Lighting up in your lips, you have a deep smoke pulling it out by your nose.

“At first I thought you were just losing your shit, with all that happiness and sudden vitality. Then I thought you were maybe hanging out with a Mayan. Someone like Rafi or Jaime, but I didn' say nothing 'cause I can't remember when was the last time I saw you smiling”. Jax is the first to speak, moving the spoon inside the mug with his gaze on his fingers, before raising both blue eyes to you. “I'm okay, if you're okay, (Y/N)”.

Those words hit out the weight you've been carrying on your shoulders for six long months, feeling that finally you can breathe again.

“Clay and Gemma are gonna freak out, but you don't have to give a shit”. He says then shrugging his shoulders, whilst you're taking another puff. “I'm gonna take Samcro' presidence, and I just want you to be happy”.

You can't help but letting a tear falling down your cheek, the same one that Marcus cleans with his fingers in silence. You nod looking at your brother, licking and biting your lips softly.

“I'm sorry I didn' tell you, Jax”.

“You don' have to. You were scared, I understand it, (Y/N). I would probably do the same on your position”. Your brother replies with a low tone, holding your left hand above the table to narrow it softly.

“I have to come back to Oakland”. The mexican speaks then, turning to you with a fleeting smile on the corner of his lips. You nod at him. It wasn't the awakening that you had expected, but at least Marcus and you don't have to hide anymore. “I'll call you when I'm at the club, okay?”

Getting up from his chair, he leans towards you to leave a lovely kiss on your forehead, keeping some respect to Jax and don't kissing your lips.

“I love you”. He mutters maintaining your eyes with his.

“I love you too”. You just say pursing your lips on a shameful smile.

Colliding his shoulder against your brother's, narrowing his hand as a farewell, Marcus pick up his stuff before leaving your flat.

“Are you gonna leave Charming?” Jax asks when the main door is closed, before having a sip of his coffee.

“I don' know… We didn' talk about it”.

“I would miss you”.

Sobbing for a second, you lie down on your chair with your legs pending by the armrest.

“Wha'? It's true, little sister”.

“I'm just… thinking that it's a dream and I'm gonna wake up when I less expect it”.

“Why?”

“Seriously, big brother?” You ask playing the sarcastic card. “Me, with a chicano. I mean, I don' care about… where he's from, nor shits like that. But SOA does”.

“We are Samcro, (Y/N). Our father was the first founder, never forget it”. He replies pointing at you with his forefinger. “Clay is just like a… fuckin' cancer, that we're gonna kick'ut from the heart of our club. And even so, no one will ever tell you who you should be with. I'll not allow it, you hear me?”

[probably-writing-x]

Just thought you should know (Prequel)

Request from my fave @bringmethehorizonandpizza : alright, but a super angsty prequel of just thought you should know, where they break up!! would you do it? pretty please? 💖💖💖💖

~~~

There had been an odd atmosphere around this place for the past few days - everyone seemed to be treading on eggshells around you and it constantly put you on edge. These boys were hiding something.

"Hey boys!" You smile as you waltz into your apartment where Harry and Sam had currently set up camp on the couch for the day, "What are you still doing here?"

"We thought we could have a movie day!" Sam calls back to you but you can see straight through his nonchalant nature.

"We had movie day yesterday," You roll your eyes, "And, anyway, Haz isn't even home yet s-"

You see both of them simultaneously wince at your words as soon as Harrison - your boyfriend of two years - was mentioned.

"What? What was that weird thing you just did?" You question, walking cautiously over to the twins.

"No... Nothing," Harry furiously shakes his head, curls spilling over his forehead wildly.

"Guys, come on. You've barely left this place all week and you're constantly checking up on me. What aren't you telling me?" You sigh, sitting down on the coffee table to face opposite them.

The boys exchange an uncomfortable look before Sam takes a big sigh.

"There's something we need to tell you, about Harrison," He admits, running a hand through his hair.

You sit in silence and let him proceed - a million possibilities running through your head.

"He's not exactly on a filming thing right now," Sam continues, "We told him to get away for a week or so,"

"What?" You laugh, "Why would you do that?"

Harry starts up again now, "Last week, all of us boys went out, right? Well... Harrison had a few too many to drink and ended up saying some things he definitely shouldn't have said,"

Your jaw clenches, "What did he say?"

The twins look between each other, mouths opening and closing but no words being expressed.

"What could he have said that was that bad?"

"He..." Sam takes a deep breath, "He said all of this stuff about how you two had been together for so much longer than he expected and that you made him wait so long for you two to... And that sometimes he wonders whether its worth the effort..."

The clench in your jaw changes to an overwhelming lump in your throat, one that has the power to make your bottom lip tremble a little.

"We're so sorry (Y/n/n)," Harry frowns, hand squeezing your knee in comfort, "We just thought you should know,"

"Yeah, yeah, no," You shake your head, forcing yourself to fake such confidence, "Hey, I'm glad you told me. And, you know, maybe he's right. Maybe I'm not worth the effort,"

"No, no, no," Both boys shake their head and come to sit either side of you, wrapping an arm around each shoulder and pulling you into a strong embrace.

"(Y/n) you're worth a thousand times the effort he gave you," Sam encourages, "Harrison, he just... He had too much to drink and he-"

"And he said what he felt," You mumble, finally letting the tears spill free down your cheeks - the kind of tears that wrack your body and make your shoulders shake like the whole world around you was clattering down.

~~~

The next day, Harry and Sam still hadn't left as they refused to leave you like this. You'd cried... A lot. You'd tried to eat but it all came back up pretty quickly and you hadn't got much sleep. But Harrison came home today, and it was your chance to face what you dreaded so much.

He knew something had happened. He knew the boys had told you and he was preparing for consequences... But not nearly this big.

With the twins opting to leave you two alone, it is just you and the boy you once promised you'd never stop loving.

"(Y/n) I-" Harrison begins, dropping his bag at the front door as he sees your state - cold, harsh, emotionless to him.

"Don't," You seethe, jaw clenching as you stand up from the couch to face him, "Don't start with an apology, start with a fucking explanation,"

"Baby I was drunk out of my mind!" He exclaims, "I don't even remember half of what I said and I sure as hell don't mean any of it, honestly,"

"Honestly?" You scoff, "You think I fucking trust you to be honest right now? And you don't remember what you said, then let me give you a little reminder.

"Babe please I-"

"How about telling the boys you wished you hadn't committed so much?" You step closer to him, "How about telling them you almost gave up just because I wouldn't give you the one thing you wanted? Or maybe the fact that you decided I'm not worth it?" Your words crack on that final part and you internally hit yourself for letting your emotions override this pure anger.

"Come on honey, you know that was all absolute bullshit!" He shakes his head, eyes following your every move as though he could decide your next response, "I was out of my mind and I was over thinking and I said some shit I didn't mean,"

You're close enough to him now that he can see the fury seeping from your moves, mixed with the worst feeling; disappointment.

"I thought," You begin, your voice calm and cautious, "I thought you could never, ever hurt me,"

Harrison clenches his jaw and fights back his building tears, "Don't say that," He's whispering now because the tears are threatening to spill and words will break the dam.

"I want you to leave. Just go and I'll pack up the things you've left here and get them to you soon," You sound so methodical that all emotion feels futile, "But I dont want to see you or hear from you, not for a while,"

"Darling, please," Harrison chokes and you watch as a tear falls down his cheek, still having to fight the desperate urge to wipe it away.

You look away and that's when he truly givea in to his feelings.

"No, no," He sounds angrier now, furious at himself for risking this, "I can't lose you. We can't give up on this,"

You feel cold, dried of all sympathy.

"I can't lose you," He repeats, "I can't lose you waking up and drawing silly imaginations in my chest," Harrison moves his hands to take yours, pressing a delicate kiss on each.

You watch his movements and stand rigid as he does.

"I can't lose you on Sundays when we've lost all our energy and we just want to cuddle until someone tells us we have to get up," His arms wrap around you and his face buries in the crook of your neck.

And for a moment, you really consider it. You think about being the forgiving one - telling him it's going to be okay and letting him kiss you, hold you, make love to you like everything is as it was. But every second takes you back to what he said. And you lose the possibility.

"It's time to go, Harrison," You pull his arms away from you and step back, arms retracting to cross over your chest as you realise you're now crying as well.

"Baby, please," He pleads once more, stepping forward to take your hands in his again, "I'll do anything, I'll make this better, I'll do whatever it takes to fix this mistake,"

You lift one hand away from his and cup the side of his face, thumb smoothing over his dampened cheek, "Maybe you're right," You pause and calculate your next words, "But actions don't take back what you said. And, Harrison, I can't afford to just be another one of your mistakes,"

And, with that, you drop your hands from his touch and walk away, retracting to your bedroom and crying endlessly against the closed door behind you. You don't know Harrison did the same outside of your apartment, slumped against the door like it was his last feeling of you.

What he didn't know was that, for the next six months, that really would be his last feeling of you...

~~~Four Months Later~~~

"Come on Tom you're playing like a rookie!" You exclaim, nudging him in the side to encourage him a bit more as the two of you competed in a Mario Kart team race.

His eyes are fixed on the screen but he doesn't seem aware as he drives straight off the edge.

"Dude!" You laugh, pausing the game, "Are you awake or?"

Tom shakes himself from his daze and looks at you, his eyes absent of their typical boyish joy.

"I-" He stops himself, "There's something I need to tell you, about Harrison,"

Oh damn. Those same words as his brother had spoken only months before. But what could possibly be worse than what you were told four months prior?

"What is it Tom?" You frown when he doesn't continue, "Wh- is he okay? Is he hurt?"

"Yeah, no, he's okay," Tom wipes his hands across his joggers, "He... Um, he got a girlfriend," He scratches at the back of his neck.

"Oh," You manage to respond, mentally kicking yourself for instantly worrying about Harrison instead of assuming something like this.

"It's only been for a couple of days but she's been at the apartment quite a bit. I thought I should tell you," He nods, hand reaching over to squeeze yours, "I'm sorry, (y/n/n),"

"What?" You scoff, with a gentle exasperated laugh, "You have nothing to apologise about. And, hey, I'm happy for him. He's moving on and that's a good thing. No need to keep thinking about something that's over, right?"

Your friend was evidently surprised by your strong response, "You don't need to-"

"No. No," You shake your head, "I'm good. I'm good, really. Let's carry on,"

He lets his eyes linger on you for a moment longer before turning back to the screen.

You were fine. Apart from the ache in your chest and the empty feeling remaining from feeling your repairing heart shatter once again. The temporary plasters you'd placed on it couldn't withstand something like this. You were fine. Apart from that feeling like you were falling, through this couch with the hopes that Harrison would be there to catch you. You were fine. Apart from the spilling tears.

"Oh, love!" Tom sighs when he sees you crying beside him, "Please don't cry," He throws his controller to the side and engulfs you in his arms, pulling you to his chest and letting you soak him in emotion.

"I've lost him, T," You sob, "I've really lost him,"

~~~

Tags: @imarypayne @sunshine112 @bringmethehorizonandpizza @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny @trap-house-homiecide @shamelessbookaddict @tommydaspidey @oneblckcoffee @darlingtholland @fanficparker

[aphrodaisyacs]

Stoki Fic Rec List

No Six Sentence Sunday this week just me and my first ever fic rec list. This is the result of me caring too much for a rarepair that not enough of the fandom cares about but ANYWAY. The fic rec lists I’ve seen for this pairing are quite a few years old, so I decided to make a new one of my own. The list is sorted in chronological order of the MCU timeline, and also quite long, which is why I put it under a read more:

under bright stars burning by @thelightofthingshopedfor (nearly 21k words, Teen and Up)

When Steve is a kid, he meets a boy named Loki who says he's a prince and shows him real magic. It's kind of weird (but that doesn't mean he doesn't like it).

A fic where Steve and Loki sort-of grow up together, but it’s still set in the canon-verse (don’t worry, the timeline discrepancy gets explained). Kid!Loki and Kid!Steve are so damn adorable, there’s quite a bit of angst between them but there’s also more than enough hurt/comfort to make up for it. I was so disappointed when this fic ended where it did, because I enjoyed it so much that I wanted it to go on forever.

Silver Moon by aurilly (23k+ words, Mature)

Steve and Bucky meet a weirdly dressed guy who claims to be a banished prince from some place they've never heard of. Most New Yorkers would have left the lunatic right where they found him, but Steve and Bucky have never been good at doing things the easy way.

Okay so I cheated a bit, because this fic is actually Steve/Loki/Bucky, but. It is so well-written that I’m including it in this list anyway. In this universe Loki discovers his heritage far earlier than in canon, which leads to a series of events resulting in him getting his powers stripped then banished to pre-WWII Midgard- specifically, Brooklyn. After repeatedly failing to convince Heimdall to return him to Asgard, Loki eventually settles into a life with Steve and Bucky. But then WWII happens. Slow build, quite a bit of angst, but there’s an optimistic ending.

Those Who Favor Ice by CatalenaMara (18k+ words, Explicit)

“You haven’t said anything incorrectly so far,” Steve said, and could hear an edge in his voice.

“Men of such beauty and strength and talent often feel they must outshine everyone they meet. That they must cast a very large shadow so that the world sees only them.”

So many emotions crossed Loki’s face so quickly that Steve could only interpret a few. Resentment. And longing. And need.

“I wasn’t always strong,” Steve said slowly. “Not as a child. I was sickly - so weak that anyone could beat me.”

Loki’s gaze sharpened. “And did they? Beat you?”

Don’t mind me I just love fics that feature Jotunn!Loki and/or Loki dealing with his heritage and Jotunheim in general. We get to see a possibility of what might have been if Heimdall hadn’t betrayed King Loki, which apparently involves Loki running off to become King of Jotunheim and later Steve’s lover. Beautiful prose, smut that doubles as character study, A+.

Madness by @scotlandevander (19k+ words, Teen and Up)

Time makes a deal and when Time makes a deal, it plays out till it is fulfilled. Steve Rogers is learning this the hard way and he’s quite sure it’ll end in madness.

Steve is stuck in a time loop spanning from the moment he wakes up in the 21st century to the events of T:DW. Needless to say it doesn’t take very long for him to run out of fucks to give. I really love the gradual development of Steve’s relationships with Bruce, Natasha and of course Loki throughout the loops. The progression of Stoki is slow mainly because Steve’s a useless bisexual and nice to read. Definitely one of my all-time favourites for this ship.  

Living Contradiction by Ebyru (1k+ words, Teen and Up)

Loki hates Captain America, but over time he realizes it’s a lie.

Excerpt: "Captain America is brave, strong, independent and an astounding leader. Maybe no-one can tell, but far beneath the mask of strength he wears and the flag he carries, Loki can see he’s just a follower."

Something short and sweet set vaguely post-Avengers (2012). Contemplative character study as Loki learns more about the man underneath the Captain America costume. I recommend this if you’re in the mood for a quick pre-slash read.

In The Land of Gods and Monsters by thisiswhatthewatergaveme (nearly 5k words, Explicit)

Steve makes a mistake: he lets his guard down. He lets a momentary relief cloud his judgment. He doesn’t spring into action when Loki spins around and presses a tight-lipped kiss against his mouth. Doesn’t even move when it softens, slightly, Loki’s hands curling over his arms.

And then the god is gone and Steve realizes something important. He realizes, perhaps for the first time, that there are different kinds of war.

While the author has tagged this fic as Porn Without Plot, I think it’s more accurate to say that there is plot, it’s just that the entire plot is centred on the build-up to the porn. And said build-up is mostly Loki catching Steve unawares to kiss him, interspersed with Steve suffering some moral crises over being attracted to his enemy.

Thawing Universe by Vulcanmi (17k+ words, Teen and Up)

A what if that starts after the events of Thor: the Dark World but before Winter Soldier. What if Loki had gotten tired of playing Odin?

Parts 1, 2 & 3 are purely Stoki, while part 4 & 5 are Thor/Bucky-centric with background Stoki. Loki gets bored of pretending to be Odin rather quickly, and thus he goes down to Earth to continually invite himself over to Steve’s apartment. Steve has exactly zero say in all of this. This series makes the pairing seem way more adorable than it has any right to be, all the while keeping everyone in-character. Part 1 builds the relationship, part 2 has the other Avengers reacting to it, and part 3 has Steve finally getting off his useless bisexual ass and asking Loki out for real. One of my favourite depictions of this pairing for sure.

Strange Love by @dvswraatins (12k words, Teen and Up)

It starts with a simple taunt.

Spoiler alert: the aforementioned “taunt” is Loki putting on a great show of seducing Steve in order to piss off Thor. Featuring Loki being unapologetically a piece of shit, Loki as a part-time Avenger and narration that becomes hilariously descriptive whenever Thor enters the picture. One of the things I adore about this fic is that it explores a dynamic for this pairing I didn’t know I needed- of Loki trying to use Steve for his own gain, but Steve manipulating him right back.

The Dreamfasting by suchaprettyface (80k+ words, Explicit)

This is the highly unlikely and yet somehow inevitable story of how Captain Steve Rogers, Avenger, becomes the lover of Loki Odinson, younger prince of Asgard and Public Enemy Number 1 according to the FBI database of known offenders.

Steve and Loki discover quite by accident that they are connected by a very old form of magic whose initial purpose seems to be getting them in each other's pants as often as possible. But there's far, far more at work than that...

To break this series down to its bare essentials: lots of porn + lots of plot. Post-AoU, Loki gets captured by SHIELD but almost immediately after Steve runs into him again, the two of them begin sharing wet dreams. The more dreams they share, the stronger the indescribable connection between them grows. Yet, in the background of all the dream-fucking, there is the mystery of why these dreams even exist in the first place, as well as Steve finding himself physically changed by them. 

Look At Me Now by @arimabat (33k+ words, Teen and Up)

Steve is on the run. His already complicated life becomes just a little more complicated when an old enemy shows up unexpectedly. But Loki has changed since their last encounter and he could have crucial information to stop a fast-approaching threat. If he’s willing to tell Steve.

Or, the one where Loki keeps bothering Steve until he figures out a way to get something useful out of it and then it all just becomes a mess.

Post-Civil War, pre-Ragnarok. Loki is absolutely delighted by a jaded, cynical Steve, and Steve is very much unamused by the unwanted attention. Steve attempts to take advantage of this attention anyway by interrogating Loki about the Infinity Stones, which leads to the gradual development of a relationship neither of them expected. I absolutely love the conversations and banter between everyone in this fic- not just between Steve and Loki, but also between Steve, Natasha, Sam and Wanda. However, (spoiler alert) the ending for this fic isn’t all too happy BUT the good news is that it’s part of a series, which isn’t complete yet at the time I’m typing this up.

Be My All-American Boy by @gavotteangel (6k+ words, Teen and Up)

It's Steve Rogers' birthday and it's Independence Day. Naturally, the freshly reunited Avengers vacation to a lake house and throw him a party. Nothing goes as expected.

Or: LOKI HAS A BIG FAT CRUSH HAPPY 4TH OF JULY FOLKS

Post-Ragnarok, post-Civil War, with a dose of Infinity War being cancelled. Highlights include Loki having a crush on bearded!Steve and abhorring the fact that the crush even exists in the first place, Loki trying his best to hold back his stabby instincts on his new allies, Loki and Natasha being drinking buddies and Loki eating the rest of Steve’s birthday cake out of pure pettiness.

I’m also going to shamelessly self-promote and rec my own series Mischief Managed (nearly 20k words, Teen and Up)

Set post-Ragnarok in an AU where Infinity War is cancelled and Steve and Tony have gotten their shit together.

The series follows Steve and Loki while they form an unlikely bond as they team up to prank others, again and again.

Initially based on this headcanon, with Steve getting the opportunity to confront Loki about it, which somehow leads to both of them teaming up to prank the rest of the Avengers. Part 2 expands on the unlikely friendship they formed in part 1, except this time Steve and Loki take advantage of the media circus and fake date to piss off homophobes. Meanwhile, the Avengers are forced to watch this train wreck happen in real time. According to the comments this series is funny enough that it made people laugh not that I’d be able to judge properly since I’m the one who wrote it. 

Tangerines are Sweet Enough by @fel-as-in-tumbld (4k+ words, General)

(Steve is seven, cold and hungry and it's Christmas morning; he's seven, sitting on the floor, pulling perfect miniature suns out of the foot of his stocking. Tangerines; he's seven, and he can feel the flesh tear under his thumbnail, can taste the burst of flavour on his tongue, the juice slide down his throat; he's seven, and he's sitting with his mother and everything has been cold and hunger, but there is this--tangerines, like eating the sun with his mother, and the warmth of her laughter--

Steve hasn't eaten a tangerine since she died, since Bucky vanished off to war; too many memories, too much intimacy.

Post-Infinity War fic where Loki actually gets revived I’m looking at you Russos. It has beautiful prose which sets a soft, wistful tone to the whole thing, helped by the fact that it takes place during the winter holidays. Steve and Loki’s relationship here is... well, melancholic, mostly, but it does end on a warm note. 

*

This rec list only reflects my personal reading experiences (and are also only limited to AO3), so feel free to add more suggestions in reblogs or replies!

Honorary mention goes to Remember This Cold by @veliseraptor (nearly 800k words, ranges from General to Explicit depending on the part) which I didn’t include in the main list because let’s be real, anyone who’s looking for Stoki fic recs has already read this series.

[onewhoturns]

six sentence sunday 9/1

(I lied, it’s not six sentences, it’s my excuse to post the beginning of the bartender au so FUCK IT HERE WE GO)

It’s half past 1 on a Saturday night. Technically, Alex should still be on shift at The Island. Instead, she’s waiting outside a dive called the Kanaloa, phone in hand, combat-booted foot propped against the brick wall behind her. Somehow she gets away with not wearing heels to work. The waitresses have to wear them, but Alex is behind the bar and, therefore, no one sees her feet. Ergo, no heels required.

(Or so she argued to her employers, and they accepted because no one really wants to face repercussions for a sexist dress code, and technically there may have also been some legal issues around appropriate footwear for dealing with breakable glass. Either way, she won.) 

“Alex!” 

Blue hair is blown out of her face with a little puff as she slips her cell into her pocket, grinning at the approaching duo before Ren already has his arms around her. 

“Thought you were gonna go pink?” Her oldest friend tugs at a loose strand of hair, sharing her grin. 

“Thought you were gonna go vegan?” She smirks, smacking him upside the head. 

“Ow! And yeah, I did. Briefly.”

Alex laughs and hugs his companion. “Hey, Nona.”

“Hey Alex.”

“So, Miss Night Owl finally managed to make some time for us, huh?” Ren is giving her a hard time again. Par for the course. She doesn’t mind it. 

“Look, when you guys are only free on the weekend and I’m working 8-4… Or if I’m picking up an extra half-day? I mean, no offense, but I’m not gonna wake up at 11 just so we can grab brunch,” she scoffs. 

“Oh, like you’re so much better than brunch.” 

“Keep your avocado toast, hipster. If I ever get roped into brunching, it’ll only be for bottomless Bloody Marys.” 

“Or mimosas,” Nona pipes up, helpfully. 

“Yes, exactly Nona. Mimosas will also do, thank you.” Alex gestures to Ren’s girlfriend, giving him a see, I told you, kind of look. He just snorts. 

“So, why aren’t we meeting at your place?” Ren is actually holding the door for her. Obviously, Nona has gradually trained him into manners. Good for her. Only took, what, eight, ten years of on-again off-again highschool sweetheartdom to get him there?

Nona goes in first, and as Alex passes she makes a gesture at Ren, mouthing ‘whipped.’ It’s good for him, though. Nona’s the calm anchor to his frenetic hyperactivity. And beneath all her jibes and smirking, she’s really happy for him. They finally seem to be taking things seriously. Years of starting and stopping for school, of phone calls at 2am because there’s a guy on her Instagram, are they dating? Is she dating someone? (You’re not actually together right now, Ren. YEAH but I LOVE her!, etc) -- finally, they’re living in the same city again. And have actually moved in together. Or-- well, that was actually probably a year ago, now. They’d settled in Seattle and she… had yet to make the trip. Whoops. But luckily they came here!

“It’s called the Kanaloa! Like the thing on Edwards Island, right? A throwback to Camena! Besides, I wanted to spare you the herpes,” she tosses the comment over her shoulder, overtaking Nona to lead the way to a booth in the corner. The place is a classic dive: dart boards, pool tables, smoke somehow always hanging in the air even though no one has smoked in a bar in… years. An actual honest-to-god jukebox. It’s a shame the place is kinda dying out. Ah well, shit happens. Gotta keep with the times. 

Nona snorts a laugh (ah yes, the training has gone both ways), and Ren smirks. “What a way to talk about your workplace, Al-”

“Oh shut up,” she punches him in the arm. “I meant this.” She gestures to the glitter clinging to her skin -- her shoulders, her cheeks, her cleavage (because of course there’s cleavage, she’s a bartender at a club for god’s sake, how else would she get tips? People like some skin and being given just enough of a hard time. She’s not gonna deny them that if it pays her rent). “It’s go-go night for the month, and they just love the stuff.” She’d have it in her hair for at least three more days. 

There’s half a second’s pause before she turns narrowed eyes on Ren again. “Wait, are you saying you think I wear this on a regular basis?” Admittedly, yes, the shirt is one of her favorites, but the pink and white PVC skirt? Yeah no. Never. It is reserved specifically for go-go night and only go-go night. She bought it as a joke at a thrift store and ended up using it in a Slutty Power Rangers Halloween costume (college, don’t ask) and it sat in her closet for months before the Island became a gig, and go-go night became a thing, and… Well. The rest is history?

“I never see you,” Ren whines. “And all your photos are of, like, cocktails and puns. How am I supposed to know?”

Alex rolls her eyes but - fair. “Well. You’re here now. So let’s have a drink and catch up, mkay? I’m technically supposed to be back on shift in like an hour, but Mick said she’d cover me and-- well, if you want, I can probably sneak you guys in if you wanna crash some poor fuck’s party on the floor. There’s enough noise and flashing lights that you can just commando right in there.” She already knows the answer. Ren, of course, is intrigued because he might have had that phase in college of going to raves and taking too much Molly and… yikes. Nona - ever reasonable - is already grimacing at the idea of a club at 2am. 

Ren turns his bright-eyed hopeful look to Nona, then smiles ruefully. “We’re probably gonna pass.”

“Should you be drinking mid-shift?”

Alex scoffs. “I drink on shift. I’m running at like BAC .02 most of the night,” she jokes. 

Nona looks troubled, and Alex quickly walks it back. “Kidding. I don’t drink much outside of work, okay? It’s not-- I’m not just spending all day drinking. It’s just part of the job.” And daytime is for sleeping, anyway. And laundry. And running Postmates. And checking Craigslist. You do things to make ends meet, right?

She doesn’t like the look Ren and Nona are exchanging. It’s that we need to talk about Alex look. She got that a lot at the end of senior year, when she was spending more time tagging along with anyone else than talking with her own family. She got that the first time she dropped out (for like one semester! One measly semester! She made up for it in a summer term, God, calm down). It makes her mouth sour, and she immediately tries to smooth it over. 

“Look, I’m sorry you guys came all the way down here just for a couple hours. We can…” She grits her teeth and tries not to grimace. “We can get together tomorrow before my shift.” 

“For…” Ren has cast aside the worried look in favor of one more amused, watching her jaw tic.

“For…” It takes everything in her not to scoff. “...brunch,” she grumbles. As soon as it’s out of her, Ren is laughing out loud and she sticks out her tongue like it’s covered in something disgusting. “Ugh, God, can’t I just get you guys some drinks instead?”

Nona shoots another look at Ren, and it’s another one she’s seen too often. The do you make enough to be treating us, two full-time Adult Employed People, to drinks? look. 

She huffs out a laugh. “Oh my God, calm down. I got this.”

-

(Oh hey look, here’s an aesthetic board for this that gives some more story) (And look at that, we’re posting it on AO3)