#alcohol trafficking
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We discuss The Last Twelve Miles, our MyLibrarian June 2024 Book Club pick, with the author, Erika Robuck.
https://www.inthestacks.tv/2024/06/author-chat-the-last-twelve-miles
#in the stacks#books#librarian book reviews#video book reviews#reading#michelle zaffino#guest librarian#mylibrarian#writing#librarians#historical fiction#smugglers#cryptographers#cryptography#prohibition#alcohol trafficking#smuggling#elizebeth friedman#erika robuck#the last twelve miles
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spencer/reader + southern gothic aesthetic "I'm just a child, but I'm not above violence My mama raised me better than that..."
the mosquitoes and frogs sing their discordant symphony above the rustling oak leaves and Spanish moss that drape over branches like abandoned wedding veils. you push your toes on the damp floorboards and the rocking chair tilts backward, and your stomach lurches as you sway forward. the old book on your lap with yellowed pages and a musty scent lays open like a vivisected hare. a gnat lands on the corner of the page and you try to flick it away. you accidentally killed it and your brows furrow softly. the hinges on the screen door squeak and you break your monotonous rhythm, the rocking chair sway cut short. "garcia says we're lucky we have cell service," spencer says, with his hands in his pockets, before his eyes flick to your lap, "what're you reading?" "mm." you nod. "nice of the chief to let us use his house." you close the book and self-consciously wipe the title with your hand (the one that killed the gnat). "did you know that franz kafka didn't want bugs on the cover of his book?" "you're reading 'the metamorphosis'," he guesses. "it's a comfort read," you say, shrugging, your toes pushing the floorboards again. spencer slowly sits in the rocking chair beside you and you silently return to the symphonies of the moist, summer night. at least - you do until spencer starts talking about his interpretation of the novel and you listen, your eyes focused on the harsh, slice of darkness where the porch light doesn't reach.
#my edits#my edit#moodboard#ONCE AGAIN making a moodboard to stop myself from writing a fic#!!!!!#this is all bc im obsessed with ethel cain and the aesthetic of true detective (season 1) which is a good Show too Also#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#i feel like i fucked up the spacing but i am TOO lazy to fix@#i have a vague idea for a backstory for the reader#but i keep flip flopping between the ideas sooo#like she is either a) daughter to a homicide detective who struggles with alcoholism and smoking and is a general misogynist#with an emotionally absent and negligent mother#OR b) she just in general had Not Great parents which ultimately led to an early life of Poor Choices but eventually#she becomes an informant for the FBI to break apart a sex trafficking ring#and that inspires her to climb her way tooth and nail into the FBI sex crimes unit#do they have a sex crimes unit?? i don't actually know but whatever
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[B]e open to life, through our service to the poorest of the poor, to those in our urban ghettos, to families struggling with alcoholism and joblessness, to the destitute and the abandoned. Be open to life and serve to give dignity to every human life; protect the unborn and the elderly, the victims of trafficking in human beings, the lonely and the migrants, girls and women. The Catholic Church, in the archdiocese of Mumbai and India, stands unwavering and firm in her decision to embrace and uphold life, as well as to embrace, nurture, defend, and uplift the gift of life, every life.
- Cardinal Oswald Gracias, Archbishop of Mumbai, in an address on Humae Vitae given on July 26th, 2018.
#Catholicism#Christianity#service#daridranarayan#charity#love#agape#human dignity#life#destitution#loneliness#isolation#alcoholism#human trafficking#addiction#unemployment#Oswald Gracias
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alex(andria) benedetto. / gangsta. / cis woman. / bisexual. / superhuman, chimera-human hybrid (unaware of this) / multiracial; predominantly black & chinese american. / 24. / cancer sun. / normani kordei. / neutral good. / canon compliant & headcanon/exomemory based. / #4091f5. / primary. asoiaf verse available; more tba. alex is a former t.rafficking victim who currently works as a secretary and mercenary for the benriya alongside worick arcangelo & nicolas brown who rescued her from her abuser, barry abbott. she is also a part time singer at bastard, the club owned and operated by the christiano family. not much is known about her past due to her memories being repressed due to the tb medication barry gave her to control her, but after her mother died, stuck at home with an alcoholic father, alex took over caring for her younger brother, emilio. alex is a enigmatic, troubled, & quiet young woman, though after worick & nicolas take her in & buy her clothes, ensure she has more clothes & ask for her family's whereabouts to no avail, she begins to speak up for herself more. she's incredibly kind, caring & often acts like a big sister and/or a motherly figure to many people who she deems needing protection, knowing all too well what it's like to feel that no one protected her, so she guards over others, even if she trembles & quivers & she can be nervous, finicky & prone to bouts of anxiety, she's capable of reading, manipulating & charming others, her resilience, tenacity, humanity & will to live, thrive & seek the world is outstanding. alex is freespirited, lively, fearless, protective & courageous, & willing to put herself in harm's way just to protect those she cares about, especially other women, elders & children. asoiaf verse available; more tba. trigger warning for human trafficking, child abuse, alcoholism, addiction & (c)sa.
nicolas brown. / gangsta. / cis man. / bisexual. / twilight; thai-chinese american & ashkenazi jewish. / 34. / scorpio sun. / dark neutral. / chella man. / canon compliant & headcanon/exomemory based. / #654321. / secondary. asoiaf verse available; more tba. nicolas is a deaf twilight & currently works as a mercenary in benriya alongside alex benedetto & worick arcangelo. he was the illegitimate son of west gate mercenary commander gaston brown & an unnamed twilight sex worker. gaston killed nicolas' mother after she gave birth & took the child to add to his mercenary group to avoid the expense of simply hiring a twilight mercenary. nicolas was born deaf, & between his deafness & gaston's control of his celebrer supply, the drug vital to his survival, gaston kept him obedient & dependent. he endures constant abuse from his father & the rest of the mercenary group without resistance until gaston assigned nicolas as worick's bodyguard & the two eventually became friends, bonding over their abusive fathers. his father later abandoned him & nicolas, despite knowing his father was abusive, was left in a state of shock due to his abandonment, remained as worick's bodyguard. after the brutal massacre of the arcangelo family, nicolas & worick ran away together to escape the carnage & started a new life on the streets of ergastulum, california. nicolas is mostly quiet & aloof even to people he likes, he occasionally speaks out of irritation or when someone isn't able to understand sign language, but mostly keeps to himself as to save himself the trouble of accommodating those who can't communicate with him. frequently irritable, he's also capable of small acts of kindness, such as playing with small children like nina or steadying alex when she's shaking too much to open her medication. he seems to find slight enjoyment in picking on people; somewhat illustrating his dark & sarcastic sense of humor. above all, however, he seem to be the most alive on the battlefield, he often is seen smiling while in combat, hinting a sadistic side which compliments his thrill for blood & he tends to toy with opponents that are weaker than himself before finishing them off remorselessly. despite his antisocial traits stemming from his undiagnosed antisocial personality disorder, nicolas isn't without heart. he's been shown to care for those close to him & furthering his somewhat complicated personality, he isn't the type to hold grudges against others. trigger warning for mentions & references of child abuse & organized abuse & parental abandonment, suicidality & mental health issues.
worick arcangelo. / gangsta. / cis man. / aromantic bisexual. / human; white french & italian american. / 35. / gemini sun. / dark neutral. / fc tba. / canon compliant & headcanon/exomemory based. / #ffe24e. / primary. asoiaf verse available; more tba. worick was the second son & the sole survivor of the wealthy arcangelo family & currently works as a mercenary & a gigolo / freelance sex worker. he was an illegitimate child, a fact his father used as an excuse for the constant abuse he heaped on him, & if not for the violence of his life, worick would have led a relatively sheltered existence surrounded by servants, a private tutor & a succession of bodyguards ending with nicolas. worick is an easygoing & cheerful person who gives away smiles like confetti at a parade, kindhearted to a fault & is extremely protective of people he cares for, though despite his friendly attitude he seems to keep most people at an arm's length when it comes to his personal issues & while he has a fairly laidback attitude, he takes things seriously when it's important & gets the job he's required to do done; he possesses an incredible memory in the form of hyperthymesia, able to remember all the people he meets & sees including their names, faces, physical characteristics & even where he last saw them, skimming through an entire book & remembering its contents which can cause him to have flashbacks of entire events. he does tend to tease people a lot, & has a naturally mischievous attitude, but despite his cheerful exterior & laidback demeanor, worick seems to have a somewhat nihilistic view on society as a whole, a view that he hides behind humor & a good-natured personality. trigger warning for human trafficking, mentions & references of child abuse, mafia & crime related activities & sexuality.
#( minibiographies. )#alex benedetto. || study.#nicolas brown. || study.#worick arcangelo. || study.#THE ICONIQUE POLYAMOROUS QUEERPLATONIC TRIAD#BENRIYA SWEEP !!!!#I& SAID I'D& START DOING MINIBIOS & HERE I& AM !!!!#if anyone has any questions about them be it icly or oocly or want to interact with them in general then feel free to do so !!#/ human trafficking#/ child abuse#/ csa#/ addiction#/ alcoholism#/ suicidal ideation
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Sunless Lives Part 17: I Can’t Do This
Please be extra wary of the content warnings today!
~2050 words
CW (All can be skipped by going from XXX to XXX): noncon (not super explicitly described), vampire whump, minor self harm, alcohol, restraints, forced prostitution, trafficking, torture, inserting an object into a wound
First, Previous, Next, Masterlist
~~~
They moved northward, towards shorter days and longer nights. They settled in Boston, blending into the city with new names: Mark Brown and Samuel Miller. Under Simon’s instruction Matthew ditched the car and found them fake IDs, prepaid cell phones, a landlord and jobs that dealt in cash and didn’t ask questions, and new looks. Simon grew his hair out into a curly mop that Matthew liked to comb his fingers through and pull on, while Matthew buzzed his. As autumn set in Simon finally retired his button-down uniform for soft henleys and turtlenecks.
Matthew wasn’t thrilled about Simon wanting a job, but Simon demanded an income of his own, independent from Matthew’s. He was getting good at demanding things from the vampire - and getting them. Matthew found a night shift at a warehouse, while Simon picked up whatever odd hours he could at a corner store - once he’d gotten his agoraphobia under control. That had started with evening walks, just the two of them, where Simon still clung to Matthew’s arm the whole time and shut his eyes when they passed through a dense crowd or under an imposing building. Then, when the changing seasons brought rainy days, they started doing all the things Simon wanted to do. His agoraphobia slowly became easier to manage as they went to museums, and restaurants, and yes, an arboretum. Simon reveled in sheer delight at these things, dragging Matthew by the hand from painting to painting, or huddling together under an umbrella, staring in awe at the colorful trees. It made Matthew feel… something. Satisfaction at taking good care of his pet, he told himself.
Two months in Matthew surprised Simon by taking him to a Brazilian restaurant to celebrate his birthday, and it made Simon cry. It wasn’t his mother’s cooking, but it was close enough. Seeing Simon cry almost made Matthew punch a waiter. They got free brigadeiros.
They spent quality time at home, as well. Simon had some inane little show he liked to watch where the hosts chattered about celebrity fashion and kitchen appliances. It made Matthew want to peel his skin off but he sat dutifully on the couch next to Simon with an arm around the human’s shoulders, providing the domestic illusion that Simon needed.
In exchange, he got another type of quality time.
The strangest thing that Matthew found was that Simon talked to him in a way he had never talked to Matthew when he was human. He talked about his parents, and how little he remembered them. That after they died, thinking about them was too painful, so he never did it, causing his memories of them to degrade into scraps. He talked about his relationship with Isles, and how they’d never even had sex. How once he started working at the VIU, and met other people, he realized he did want sex - just not with Isles. He expounded on his various VIU hookups: coordinator Green. James from HR. Hailey in the mailroom.
Eventually, he talked about the vampires he was sold to.
It started slow. He’d pull Matthew into a cave under the covers late in the day in their tiny studio apartment, hold his hands and whisper to him in the dark. He used simple language and skimmed over the details, but still admitted the worst parts. Lara showed up in glimpses and sidenotes, but was never the main character.
Matthew got the picture.
XXX
He talked about Edward Finch first.
Edward liked Simon set up in a particular way before he arrived: flat on his back, with his wrists tied to the bedposts, and fully prepared for anal sex by Lara, with a toy left in. He lay on black sheets - for white, clients had to pay extra. A plastic liner crinkled underneath him. Most vampires like to feed during sex, but Ed preferred to feed before, leaving Simon dizzy and malleable under his hands when he pushed Simon’s legs up to pull out the toy and fuck him. He didn’t expect Simon to enjoy it either - some did - so Simon was free to let his mind escape, to distract himself with other things. Usually he’d pull on the restraints, forcing the rope to dig into his wrist, and he could focus on the pain, the pain there, and not… anywhere else. All in all, Finch wasn’t the worst client at first, not by a long shot.
He started cutting Simon on their fourth session.
Every time Ed arrived, he would undress very neatly, folding his clothes and setting them aside. This process included taking out two pens from the inside of his jacket and lining them up on the bedside table. There they would remain until he got dressed again and they returned to his pocket. This was the pattern until his fourth visit when he let Simon’s legs fall and leaned over him, sweaty and breathing hard - but not satisfied yet.
“We still have some time left - you’ll be a good boy for me a little longer, won’t you Simon?”
“Yes sir,” Simon breathed. That was what he’d been taught to say - to everything and anything. His eyelids were heavy from the blood loss but he forced himself to pay attention as Edward plucked up one of his pens and uncapped it, revealing a small scalpel instead of a ballpoint. Simon’s eyes widened at this, and he lifted his head off the mattress.
“What are you doing?”
In lieu of an answer, Ed set the blade lightly into Simon’s skin just under his pec, and drew it downwards over his ribs.
“Stop, stopstopstop!” Simon yelled, “You can’t do that! Lara!” He turned his face up to the corner of the ceiling where a camera stared down, always watching. This wasn’t supposed to happen; at this point in time, Simon was letting the vampires fuck him and feed from him, and that was it. This was an entirely new pain and humiliation that Simon was utterly unprepared for.
“I already cleared this with Lara,” Edward smiled, “As long as I don't scar you, or touch your face, I’m free to do as I please.” He wasn’t watching the knife in his hand, or the seeping blood; instead he studied Simon’s face, drinking in every ounce of fear and pain.
“No,” Simon shook his head in panicked disbelief, “She wouldn’t do that - No, please, stop-!”
Ed laughed as he made another thin line parallel to the first.
“Do you see the lights flickering?” he asked, referencing Lara’s way of communicating with her clients.
Simon whimpered and struggled, but his wrists were tied securely and Edward sat heavy on his thighs.
“Please don’t do this,” he begged, “I’ve been good, I’ve been good for you, please, ah!”
Another line, crossing the first two.
Lara made fun of him for crying afterwards.
“That was like, soooo vanilla,” she laughed as she rode him, “I can’t believe you were such a baby.”
Feverish from a synthetic blood transfusion and desperate for her care and approval, Simon could only grip her thighs and apologize, apologize, apologize.
Finch got worse, eventually. Sim wasn’t sure when - he’d given up keeping track of the time, given up on keeping track of how many clients he had, how long he’d been with Lara, or when his birthday was. He was drunk most of the time and Lara billed him as an ‘enthusiastic whore’ because he was good at acting. Good at saying the right things, good at making the right noises. Good at being hurt. Good at crying.
But when Edward suddenly dug deep and cut through skin and fat and muscle and scraped bone, Simon couldn’t scream in a pretty way anymore - which was exactly what Ed wanted. He laughed as the blood pulsed out and spilled onto the black sheets.
“I’ve been trying to recapture the feeling of that first cut for ages!” Edward informed Simon excitedly, as if he would care. “Finally…”
He dug in again and Simon shrieked.
“Stop! That’s too much, please, I can’t do this!”
“Exactly!” Edward grinned with ferocious delight. The lights flickered, from dim to bright and back, but he ignored it. He continued gouging into Simon’s chest, reveling in Simon’s screams and pleading.
But it wasn’t long before Simon gave up. Flopped back in helpless exhaustion, and let his body respond however it needed to, with groans and spasms; he wasn’t begging anymore. He knew it was useless.
“No, goddamnit!” Edward shouted at him and slapped his face, “You’re supposed to…” He paused, chest heaving and brow furrowed. He had an idea. He dropped the bloody scalpel back on the bedside table and picked up the real pen. Then he twisted his fingers in Simon’s hair and pulled his head up, forcing him to look at his mutilated torso.
“Watch this.” He poised the pen at an angle above one of the cuts. “Watch me.” And he pushed the pen into the incision, and then sideways, using brute force to push the pen under Simon’s skin. A truly agonizing scream ripped out of Simon as he watched a lump grow under his skin as Edward drove the pen in further, separating layers of skin and setting nerves on fire. Simon felt like his eyes might pop out of his head from how wide with terror they were, watching the pen invade his body. Half an inch. One inch. He struggled like a madman against the restraints, and the ropes cut deep into his wrists.
“What do you think of that, huh?!” Edward crowed.
“STOP!” Simon screamed, “Please stop - Aaah!” Another half inch. Two inches.
The door to the bedroom burst open and Lara’s enforcers charged in - two massive vampires that Lara provided with drawn blood and plenty of cash in exchange for their services, though they weren’t allowed to touch Simon themselves. They grabbed Edward by the arms and dragged him off the bed, pinning him to the floor. Lara stepped into the room, looming over the naked Finch.
“You’re a weak loner nobody and you broke your contract,” she hissed, “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right here.”
Simon lay back and shut his eyes, shedding silent tears of relief. Lara was here. He was safe.
Edward was completely unphased.
“I can pay you triple.”
“Bullshit.”
“Check my wallet.”
Lara rifled through his clothes, and found a wallet stuffed with cash. She counted it slowly, mulling over her options. Then she turned back to Edward, tossing her hair.
“You’ll sign a new contract. No knives, or weapons of any kind anymore.”
No, Simon thought, He can’t come back, that was almost as bad as - as bad as -
“Deal.”
“See him out!” she said to her goons, and threw Finch’s clothes out the door. They dragged the vampire away. Lara turned her attention on Simon, falling upon him and peppering his tear-soaked face with light kisses, banishing his insubordinate thoughts.
“I’m so sorry baby, that shouldn’t have happened, you won’t see him for a while, okay? Let’s get you out of these…” She untied his wrists from the bedposts. His hands moved to hover over the pen, still embedded under his skin, afraid to touch it. All his injuries pulsed and burned, but the pen was a white-hot knot of pain sending waves of chills over his body.
“Please,” he whimpered, “Please, help…”
Her nose wrinkled.
“I’m not touching that.”
XXX
“Why are you telling me this?” Matthew eventually asked, after a few of these stories.
“Because I know you won’t judge me,” Simon answered easily, “And I know it won’t hurt you to hear like it would’ve… before.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t say this,” Matthew said as he massaged Simon’s hand between his own, “But I like hearing about what they did to you. It tells me exactly who to rip to shreds when I see them. And it makes me glad that I own you now.” And one thing he definitely wouldn’t say is that he found it to be a massive turn-on.
Simon smiled in the dark, squeezing out a tear.
“You don’t own me, we’re a team,” he chided.
“You keep telling yourself that.” Matthew shifted forwards to kiss him.
Simon laughed against Matthew’s lips, thinking it was a joke.
Or maybe hoping.
~~~
First, Previous, Next, Masterlist
Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy, @pigeonwhumps, @sunshiline-writes, @seasaltandcopper
#whump#whump fic#whump writing#vampire whump#sunless lives#sunless lives arc 2#nsfwhump#cw noncon#cw self harm#cw alcohol#cw restraints#cw forced prostitution#cw trafficking#cw torture#cw inserting an object into a wound#my writing
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they way i cut my sister out of my life faster after she got pregnant with a 50yo sex trafficker's baby than i did after she strung me along for a year and then backed out of the apartment i got for us right after we were approved.
#honestly hate her#i havent talked to her in months.#sincei found out FROM SOMEONE ELSE that she was DATING a 50yo trafficker.#not being trafficked. willingly dating him.#willingly living on the streets so she can go to his house 2 nights a weeek.#to get alcohol and drugs bc shes barely 20.#she turned out JUST like our fucking mother and i fucking hate her. i loathe her entire existence for it.#she is the only one of five kids;two of which have schizoprenia like our mother (and still turned out better than her); who turned out like#our mother. who followed in our mothers footsteps.#who goes out of her way to be (mother)'s mini-me.#it's repulsive fucking filth#my female solidarity stops once the genetic relation starts. NO fucking solidarity for family members bc all my family is a steaming pile o#horse shit#HER INCLUDED (obv)#rant
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MORGAN IM ALSO WAITING FOR TOUCHSTARVED is from the same team as "The Arcana" so I'm really existed (also because now i know i can fangirl here when it finally comes out) BUT I too recomend checking out "OBSCURA" the asthetic and atmosphere from the game is *chef's Kiss* the team has a Tumblr and is rottenraccoons trust me is just a demo but a very good one you're going to like it
YES! i saw their team bios on patreon and i was shook. not only are there ppl that worked on the arcana there are ppl that worked on arcane and LoL??? like that's crazy. also i looked up obscura while on break and it is scary how quickly i bought it. thank you so much for the rec rope!!!! im going to play it sunday :D
#the game contains unhealthy relationship dynamics religious themes drug and alcohol violence and themes of human trafficking#SAY LESS SIGN ME UP#the art looks really good too i am very excited!#rope-tati
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sometimes i really hate the political options in disco elysium like. theres a 12 year old right outside the door snorting cocaine 24/7 and ur telling me you wanna control the drug trade to keep them OUT of martinaise? bc youre already doing such a FANTASTIC job keeping out DRUGS by diffusing organized crime with your drunk redneck militia? and you give me the dialogue options of 1. stupid capitalist 2. stupid liberal 3. stupid monarchist or 4. stupid in general. bro.
#not that i think the writers didnt already know how ironic this is like i think its 100% intentional#its clearly not supposed to be good union vs evil corporation#but it *is* irritating how stupid harry is sometimes ToT#also a lot of the options when discussing the union trafficking drugs is like#'we dont want this to fall into the wrong hands so wed rather be the ones in control of it than someone worse'#like how in tgcf hua cheng explains that if he wasnt running the gamblers den someone else would and hed rather be the one in control#but like. whereas hua cheng is actually *good* at controlling it. these fucking morons cant tell their head from their asshole#because EVERYONE in martinaise is tripping balls 24/7#literal fucking children are getting their hands on hard drugs like in what fucking world would i trust you bitches in facilitating#a fucking international drug ring#especially since their 'youth center' is just a cover for driving everyone out of the fishing village#instead of actually getting help for the alcoholics there#its a very smart writing decision to give the union this complexity so nothing against that#i just wish i could point it out and call evrart a fucking moron to his face
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paramour
Yandere!Cheating Duke X Duchess! Reader X Yandere!Lover Servant
I just want to write a reader who has the same/more power as/to the yandere(s).
The setting is still in the fantasy/manhwa world, medivial, any setting as long it's not modern.
CW: two yandere, rivals, cheating, consent smut, infidelity.
I'm making the darling a little more forward(?), daring, more power or that can go against a yandere. Atleast, that's what the darling thinks. Also, this is not polished like my other stories.[ Forgive me, I'm not good with smuts! I also love y'all comments and your ask/request(will answer them soon!). The Yandere Emperor and Yandere Crown Prince son really outnumbered the yandere Omega. Y'all are crazy for that!]
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
"Mistress." He murmured. His arms hadn't let go off your waist. It was the first thing your eyes landed on when the sunlight came in to greet a new day from the window balcony. You closed your eyes again to find your way back to sleep again.
Your hands went to trace his back full of scar last night from your nails. You hummed when he gave you a pepper kisses on your exposed skin.
"Morning." He gave you one last kiss on your lips before snuggling between your chest. His arms hadn't move around your waist since last night."Mmmh..morning..." You muttered looking away—eyes still close—from the sun when it kissed your face.
"Do you want me to call the maids to serve you breakfast?" His sweet voice lull to sleep more. You whispered no. Last night, this man gave you something akin to that of heaven, something your husband never gave you.
Last night, you made love with this man. The same man you rescued from the human trafficking, kidnapping commoner from the outskirts of the kingdom. Now, indebted by your kindness he devout himself to you with his life.
You groaned, feeling your body is aching all over. This goes not unnoticed by your lover."Did I hurt you to bad?" He asked. His earth orbs are gleaming with shine and now getting filled with tears. "I-I'm sorry, I was rough with you mistress." His voice full of regret and loathe on himself.
You opened your eyes, ruffling his curly brown hair before stroking it. Staring down at his eyes. "No. You did good." You smiled at him, cupping his face, before kissing him in the lips. He whimpered,deepening his into yours.
The intoxication of alcohol must have taken over you. Drowning yourself from the alcohol beverages after your husband didn't arrive on the scheduled date, you waited for him for a whole day to arrive. Alone in the gazebo, Everett was the one who went to your weeping figure. That was a month ago. Everett offered himself to shower you with his love. At first you feel reluctant about this, you will never be the type of person to use someone just so you can feel yourself happy. Everett didn't care about it whether you use him or not. He wanted to prove himself that you are worth to be love. This man made your heart flutter in a way that your husband once gave you before the marriage.
"I-I love what happened last night, my mistress." He whispered bashfully, his pretty swollen lower lip,you bitten hard last night, went to reach his eyes giving you a wide smile. The sun kissed his tan face adding a charming look. His neck has full of bites and bruises from you. His cheeks become a little darker shade from blushing, he must have reminisced something last night.
Now, you made him your lover. Though not completely in love with Everett. You also shower him with items or materials that most commoners would love to have but it doesn't seem like this man is materialistic. He just wants you.
You didn't hide Everett to your husband.
What's the use of hiding your fling to Theodore when he was the first one to cheat on this marriage?
Despite being loyal to that man you loved. He had the audacity to tell you that you shouldn't pry on his private his life after you confronted him with a newly hired maid going out. "Our marriage contract states that the two parties should not meddle one another's private life else this contract shall be annuled."
So all of his flexing his love for you was nothing but a hoax? A show? A lure for you to agree to marry him?
Though, your marriage with him was for the politcial marriage. You once fell in love with Theodore. The same man who gave you flowers everytime you two date, the same man who kissed in your cheeks after he walk you home, the same man who always writes poems about his devotion to you. Did he pursuade you to continue this marriage by making you love him so that the two duchy became one? It may seem like you wanted this marriage at first. You didn't, your family wanted it and they have asked you—no annoyingly, they plead you to marry him, because your parents and his parents signed a contract that their children will reunite the two duchy.
"Your ladyship, the duke asked for your audience to join him in the breakfast." Your butler from the other side of your room, outside the door, knocked and speaks after. You frown upon hearing it, looking at the closed door, what does he want?
You feel strange about your husband nowadays. He had been asking for your presence this past few days. Never once he called for you after your wedding with him.
You clicked your tongue and turn to look at your lover. You notice Everett's face was frowning too. "Tell the duke that I will be there in a moment." You announced to the butler outside the room expecting the old man to gear you through it. You look back at the man leaning his weight on you. You tap the curly haired lover to let you go from his hold yet he didn't budge after moving yourself to sit up instead you heard yourself going 'oomfh!' and finding your lips were on his again. You groaned while he moaned weakly. He pushed you down on the bed, his lips never leaving yours until you were out of breath. A string of saliva trailed between your mouths. Everett was smiling before diving his lips into your skin, to one of your chest, fondling the other. You feel a little ticklish and panting at his stimulation. "Eve—! Wait! Ah..." Your voices went unheard, The male's mewling, sucking on to your flesh like thirsty man who hadn't had a drink.
Your hand went to tug his hair as you moaned out his name. "Shi—Eve... Oh! S-stop... Ah.."
His other hand goes to put one of legs above his back and parted the other leg, accessing himself between you even more."m-mistress!"
You groaned when you felt him grind between you. He looked at you with a pleading eyes, he look like he will cry again, the tears filling up yo the side from his eyes. "M-mistress." He whined his mouth was already in another mound. You feel his hardness between. "p-please? I'll be good! Please... huff..I'll make y-you feel good!"
Your eyes are hazy from the pleasure. "You want.. hah... it?" His eyes getting filled again with tears. You tug him by the hair not enough to hurt him. You landed your lips on his ears. Panting and breathless when you felt his hands is still fondling your body. "You got..ngh... to earn it, pretty boy." You murmurs made him whimpered. "You have to be my good boy... Are you my good boy?"
He nod, a tear fell down to his cheeks, he leaned down to your lips, murmuring, i-am-your-good-boys, thank-yous and I-love-yous.
The room filled with noises that could make anyone flustered and uncomfortable. You didn't realize from your high you are feeling that the butler is coughing uncomfortably behind the door excusing himself as he will inform the duke what you told him earlier.
You went down the stairs with a difficulty, aching between your thighs. You can't find any dress to cover the one hickey on your neck, Everett apologize and helped you cover it with a foundation but it failed horribly from covering seeing that the foundation wasn't blend well and you do not want your maids do it for you. Not when you found out that almost all of them had already been with your husband. You were planning to replace them sooner.
You stopped at the closed door leading to the dinning room. The butler from earlier straightened his posture, clearing his throat after he saw you. He announced your presence behind the door opening the door for you."My lord, your ladyship is here."
You walked in after thanking one of the male servant for pushing the seat for you once you sit across the lord of the household, your husband, the Duke.
The breakfast before you was served cold. If you have arrived earlier you could have eaten warm. You glance at your husband, surprised that his plate has not been finished and it looked like he didn't touched it. You noticed his eyes is trained on to you since you came in, yet his eyes isn't on you but to your neck and the way you walk earlier.
His grey eyes seemed to be narrowing, he scoffed. "You're late."
You glance away, picking one of the utensil, stabbing the meat, landing it to your mouth chewing it. You gulped it down before taking another bite. The marinated pork seems to be delicious even if the breakfast a little no warm.
"It seems you are enjoying with your toy a little too much." He added, there was anger rising beneath his voice.
Oh, the egg is a little bland but it is still edible nonetheless.
"There are more new reports about your speculated infidelity to the public. Do you know that?"
You looked at him after eating the last piece of the sunny side egg, smiling: finally acknowledging his presence."Yeah, what about it? It's not like it will ruin our marriage. After all, you had a numerous of headlines about your 'rumored' infidelity too. Did our contractwas nulled after that? It didn't right?"
"(Y/n)."
"Yes, husband?"
His eyes widened a little before going back on giving you death gaze. "Kick that slave away. I don't like him." He demanded. Though he wasn't shouting. You frowned, how dare he?
"Why would I? It's my decision whether I choose to throw him out or not."
"I do not want him near my property." He complained, gritting his teeth at the last word.
"This is my property as well!" You sternly answered back. Not leaving another room for an argument.
There was silence between the room.
"... I... don't want him near you." You heard him. You blinked at the sudden word that blurted in his mouth.
You scoff standing up, "I think I should finish my meal somewhere..." You starts walking back to where you enter the room.
"(Y/n)." Theodore called you. You didn't observe the way his eyes longed for you. You were focus on the anger within you. "Are we forgetting something, Theodore?" You questioned.
He pondered, those orb you used to love held a confusion.
"Meddling into your partner's private life will annul this marriage... Wasn't that written in our contract?" You bitterly told him. "Sounds familiar right? Do not dare demand me to throw away Everett." You added.
Finally waiting for this moment for this to happen. Guess he will get to taste his own medicine.
"... As long as we do our part in this household we will act as husband and wife. Is not that what you told me?"
"..."
"Now then, I will excuse myself. I have no longer desire to finish my breakfast here." With that, you leave him there.
When you reach the door, opening it, you were surprise to see Everett waiting outside. "What are you doing here?" You asked him. Your frowned face was replaced with a confusion look before giving him a small smile. The man infront of you return your smile with a small grin, placing one of his arm on your waist."W-well, I feel bored and alone in my own room. So I found myself waiting here w-with the butler. Besides I saw you walking wobbly earlier and I-I am concerned that you might have even more difficulty walking... So f-forgive me for not staying put." The look concern on his face adding the pout from his lips made him look cute.
"What are you a puppy?"You poke his nose giggling as you walk away with him, your eyes went back to talk to the butler. Telling him you want to continue your breakfast at your garden, asking him to make it for a two people. The butler bowing to your order before going to the kitchen area to order the maid.
Your husband on the other hand, loath with rage and jealousy mixing under his eyes. His eyes narrowed especially when the slave you brought in leaned on top of your head kissing at the crown part of your head, leaning to your ear to whisper something akin to sweet talks. The arm around your waist went to rub your back.
If only you glance again on Everett's face. You would have caught him giving your husband a smug smirk.
#yandere#yandere lover#yandere male#yandere oc#yandere x darling#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#yandere boyfriend#clingy yandere#yandere husband#yandere love#male yandere x reader#yandere boy#yandere male x reader#male yandere#yandere servant#yandere x reader#yandere duke#soft yandere#yandere cheater#should I make readers like this?#love yall comments and requests <3#updated my masterlist loll#yandere imagines#scara writes oc#scara writes
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"Liquor Made In 'Pen' Starts Race Riot," Toronto Star. July 29, 1933. Page 1 & 2. ---- INMATES GET DRUNK ON HOME-MADE WINE BREWED FROM PRUNES --- "Binge" Causes Flare-up in Last Few Days At Portsmouth --- START RACE RIOTS --- IIl-Feeling Between White and Negro Prisoners Bringson Clash ---- Special to The Star Kingston July 29. - Home brew manufactured by the inmates, unknown to the prison officials, it is disclosed to-day, was the finishing touch that caused the "plenty of trouble at the penitentiary these last few days," described by Judge E. Madden when Frank Regan, counsel for Convict Michael McDonald, complained about his defence witness, Convict Phillip Roberts, having been flogged "like a dog" by prison officials. Prunes and yeast were the ingredients of the fiery liquid that set the men confined in the new female prison seething once again into minor revolt. Over a long period, prisoners Is the kitchen filched prunes and yeast. Where they hid the mixture while it fermented is yet a secret to the penitentiary authorities. For weeks it fizzed and grew powerful.
Lawyers in court, it is now re-ealed, sniffed when they caught at whiff, now and then, of a convict with breath. They couldn't understand it. They wondered and remained puzzled. Whatever luxuries might be at the female prison for the October ringleaders who have been isolated since the big mutinies, counsel felt certain there was not a government liquor store.
Tuesday night it was decided by the men with the home brew stocks to use it all themselves. As it was described by somebody close to them to-day, they determined to go on "thorough binge." According to a accounts, they succeeded.
In excuse for the lack of knowledge of the prison authorities, one prominent figure in the trials to-day said: "Many of the prisoners are allowed to have yeast cakes for medical treatment and it is one of the hardest things in the world to prevent prisoners from hiding prunes and raisins from their food."
Fight Started According to the warden's official statement, a fight developed Tuesday night when five or al convicts at the end of the supper Iine at the female prison jumped on a fellow-convict and severely man handled him.
The facts behind the meagre official story again, it develops to day, are that for some time feeling has been brewing between white and negro prisoners amongst the inmates of the female prison. This ill feeling apparently increased in strength like the prune wine.
The prune juice had its effect. The whites made for the negroes. While some held back the guards, one of the white prisoners slashed a negro across the back with a knife. The wound is alleged to be almost half an inch in depth. For almost two hours the prisoners, described "as lit up and in a murderous mood," had complete possession of the female prison yard. Many of the negro prisoners were severely beaten up and injured before guards, now reinforced, managed to regain some control. Protesting his innocence, Convict Phillip Roberts was hastily sentenced by the warden's court to five Iashes, although he was threatened at first with 20. "There is no doubt that Roberts' jaws are fractured," protested Frank Regan to-day. "His teeth were, knocked loose and he was still spitting blood when he appeared in the witness box on Friday afternoon.
"One hears it repeated by prison officials that prisoners are never strapped on the back above the waist. I personally saw Roberts when he was stripped before Judge Madden and Col. Keiller MacKay in a room behind the courtroom, and there was one welt from the strap three inches wide over the kidneys.
Flesh Lashed Away "There was also a piece of flesh almost as big as the end of a finger taken right out of the left hip, apparently where the end of the strap had hit from a heavy cut," declared Mr. Regan.
"Roberts claims that he is not the man that should have been punished at all," Mr. Regan added.
The reason he called Roberts as a witness, stated Mr. Regan, was because he himself had noticed the striking resemblance between Convicts McDonald and Roberts, and he wished to have the judge see the likeness. His argument, which he wished to make clear to the court, was that McDonald could easily have been mistaken in last October's mutiny in the penitentiary for Roberts.
In every way possible Mr. Regan contended, prison authorities had thwarted his intention. First of all, he discovered that Roberts had a heavy beard. From Judge Madden. MeDonald's counsel secured an order to have the beard shaved off.
"Now, when Roberts is at Iast produced." Mr. Regan complained, his face is so badly battered and swollen that the original likeness is thwarted. There is no reason why Roberts should have been flagged the night before he was to appear as a witness."
Absolute dental that the convicts at the female prison are "out of hand" was made by Warden Megloughlin to-day, although only recently a petition was circulated among the residents in the immediate neighborhood of the now prison against the howling and noise of the inmates at night, which kept the householders awake, and is said to have caused one case of break- down and nervous strain on this account.
Fear Prison Trial Part of this chronic state of mutiny among the prisoners is claimed to be their continued fear that they are to be tried by the warden's court, for the last October mutinies after the present court trials are over. Asked by Mr. Regan yesterday whether any of the men now being tried in the courts for their part in the disturbances in October would be tried again in the warden's court, Warden Mogloughlin answered that none would. Mr. Regan: "I take it from that answer that the others not tried in these courts will be tried in the warden's court?" The warden: "I don't know. The minister has it under consideration." Mr. Regan: "Has he indicated to you what his decision will be?" The warden: "No."
Mr. Regan: "Well, I can under- stand that. For while the affair took place last October, this is only the end of July and it is, perhaps. a little early to expect action the part of the department in that time." Laughter broke out in the court room, and had to be silenced.
#kingston penitentiary#kingston ontario#prison violence#home brew#alcohol in prison#trafficking in prison#race riot#black canadians#prison agitator#solitary confinement#abuse of solitary confinement#corporal punishment#1932 kp riot#1933 prisoner trials#convict revolt#great depression in canada#crime and punishment in canada#history of crime and punishment in canada#prison riot
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Sunless Lives Part 9: I Shouldn’t Take Advantage
Here it comes!
~2220 words
CW: alcohol, discussion of grooming, trafficking; dubcon kiss
First, Previous, Next, Masterlist
~~~
Simon was distant with them the rest of the day. Matthew had expected him to be cold, or even outright angry, but instead the few times Simon emerged from his room he appeared lost in thought. He did engage a little more when Amber stopped by to see him. She apologized profusely, and he repeated what he’d said to Matthew the night before: Finch would have killed you. It’s better this way. Matthew found himself thinking Simon could’ve been at least a little bit mad at her - there was a reason he’d never replied to her texts - but he didn’t interfere. All in all, Gina and Matthew kept their interactions with him limited to ensuring he ate, stayed hydrated, and was experiencing no worrying symptoms. Simon insisted on changing his own bandages, which Matthew didn’t take as a good sign.
Matthew worried himself to sleep that night. He took the cot, to give Gina a break. He felt like he had made so much progress with Simon, and now it was all undone. He’d made Simon laugh, for crying out loud - twice! They’d been making baby steps towards Simon telling Matthew more about himself, first the stuff with Isles, then the tidbit about the bleach and the nightmares. Now it could all be ruined.
Matthew was stress-dreaming about Simon kicking them out of the apartment entirely when he was shaken awake.
“Hey! Hey!”
Matthew pushed himself up on one elbow and forced his bleary eyes to focus in the faint glow of the night light. Simon was crouched next to the cot, staring at him with wide dark eyes.
“Wha’s wrong?” Matthew mumbled, “Nightmare?”
“Get up,” Simon whispered, “Come with me.” He tugged on Matthew’s arm. It was unusually forward for him.
Matthew sat up, moving quietly to avoid waking Gina.
“What’s going on?”
“Come onnn!” Simon wrapped both hands around Matthew’s bicep and pulled. This close to him, Matthew caught a whiff of alcohol. He jumped to his feet, and had to catch Simon by his shoulders to keep him from falling backwards.
“Are you drunk?!” Matthew hissed.
Simon wiggled away from him.
“Jus’ come with me!” he loudly whispered, wobbling around the TV into the hallway.
Matthew frantically looked back and forth between him and Gina - still sound asleep - before feeling like he had no choice but to follow.
If this was what he thought it was, this wasn’t the way he wanted it to happen.
He followed Simon into the bedroom. Simon opened the door like a valet, shooing Matthew through and closing it behind them. Then he bounded over to the bed and jumped on, sitting cross-legged on the rumpled bedspread (long since cleaned and returned to its place). He patted the bed in front of him, indicating Matthew should sit as well.
It looked like this wasn’t what Matthew thought it was - but that didn’t mean he knew what was happening. He hesitantly climbed onto the bed and mirrored Simon.
“Simon, what -”
“Shh!” Simon lifted a hand, “Don’t talk.” They weren’t whispering anymore, but they still kept their voices low.
“Okay…?”
“I said don’t talk!”
Matthew nodded mutely. Simon looked down at his hands, knitting them together and twisting them as he searched for his next words.
“I wanna tell you everything,” Simon said at last. Matthew opened his mouth but closed it again, letting Simon continue.
“I like you. I decided I trust you. You already know half of it. And you can tell Gina whatever you want, that’s fine, but nobody else. Jus’ you. I just want it over with. I’m sorry I couldn’t… I’m sorry I couldn’t do it sober.”
Matthew couldn’t help himself any longer.
“Alcohol’s a blood thinner,” he warned, “With your concussion…”
“I know!” Simon pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, “I know, I know… Please, just listen to me.”
Matthew took a breath, but nodded.
“Okay. I’m listening.”
Simon slowly lowered his hands from his eyes and stared at them in his lap.
Then he began. He spoke at first as if he were reciting a memorized list, slightly slurring his words.
“My parents died in a car accident when I was nine. I grew up in foster care. No one was mean to me, but I was mean to them. So when I turned eighteen I was alone. I failed my s-senior year. I had to go to a summer program. Lara was a volunteer there.”
“Lara… Everett?” Matthew breathed.
Simon nodded quickly, still not looking at Matthew.
“I should have known. That something was wrong. She talked to everyone about their families, the friends, and she… zeroed in on me as soon as she found out I had none. I should have known something was wrong, from the way she got all interested when she realized I was alone, or the way she got… excited when I told her my mom’s family was from Brazil. But she was grown-up, and beautiful, and rich, and she said everything that a teenage boy would want to hear.” Simon shifted uncomfortably, a hand going to his ribs. His voice grew strained.
“I tried to finish my senior year, I really did. But I was living in a group home and I hated it, I hated it. She kept saying I should drop out of school and move - move in with her, so I did. Right after I turned nineteen.” He was breathing harder now.
“A while after I moved in she told me her family’s business had failed, that we were going to run out of money, and be home - homeless,” he gulped down air, “It was all a lie, I figured that out after a while, but she convinced me that we needed to make money, fast, and that selling my blood was the best way. She was like, anemic, so it couldn’t be her, she said. And I really loved, I really loved her a lot,” Simon’s voice broke, and he pressed his hands to his eyes again, “So I said yes, and it started with blood draws, but then she said we’d make so much more money if they could feed - feed from me directly, and then we’d make so much more if they could do… Other stuff. With me.”
He froze for a little while, hands on his face, just breathing. Matthew watched him, rapt and wide-eyed. When Simon spoke again, his voice was a whisper.
“It just kept getting worse. But I really loved her. And then…”
His hands dropped back to his lap, twisting together again in painful-looking contortions.
“There was this one vampire,” Simon said faintly, “And it was really… awful. And she promised me I’d never have to do that again. Then later she said he was… coming back. And I couldn’t do it,” his voice faded to barely audible, “So I - I killed her.”
Simon finally sobbed, tension falling from his shoulders. But he soldiered on, his voice wet.
“I called the police on myself, because I thought I would go to jail for it. I didn’t know any better. But then Christian was there, and he took care of me, and they tried to put me in victim protection, but every plan they offered I told them exactly why it wouldn’t work, until Christian was like, ‘Damn! You know your stuff!’” Simon laughed through his tears, “So now, now I work here. But I can’t leave, not ever. Not ever.”
Simon wiped his hands across his teary face, forcing himself to breath slowly. Matthew gave him a moment to collect himself before speaking.
“You were never a field agent?”
“N-no.”
“Did you even go through any training?”
“Not - not really.” Simon tucked his chin down further, embarrassed.
No wonder Isles said their team was an experiment. Matthew shook his head in disbelief.
“So you really can’t leave? What about if all the vampires are captured? Couldn’t that happen?”
Simon stilled. He finally looked up at Matthew.
“Some of them are too powerful for the VIU.”
“How’s that possible?” Matthew asked, “We bring in grade As all the time.”
“It’s not just about the grade - I mean it can be, but…” Simon pressed a hand to his bandaged temple and sleepily fumbled through an explanation. “Y’know how some vampires form families? Some take it further, some form compounds, too strong for the VIU to break up. Dozens of vampires, protecting each other. They keep humans captive, instead of killing to feed, so their body count’s lower. That’s how the VIU justifies leaving them alone.”
“So…” Matthew put the pieces together, “The way the VIU operates right now, some of the vampires that hurt you will never be captured.”
Simon nodded, lifting his tear-streaked face to look at the ceiling.
“I’m gonna be down here forever.”
The words hung between them in the air. Matthew felt like he was unable to absorb half of what Simon had told him. He rubbed his face, and found himself a bit teary-eyed. He looked at the clock on the bedside table, which was surrounded by empty beer cans: 1:53 AM.
“Have you slept at all?” he asked.
“No. I was working up the nerve to talk to you.” Following Matthew’s gaze, Simon plucked up a beer can and gave it an appraising shake. Liquid sloshed within. He started to lift it to his lips, but Matthew snatched it away.
“No more of that,” Matthew ordered, “Get some sleep. We can talk more about everything in the morning.”
“Wait, can you stay with me?” Simon asked, suddenly awake and wide-eyed.
“Like… Here, in your room?” Matthew asked hesitantly.
“Yes! Please, I don’t -” Simon shook his head breathlessly, “I don’t want to be alone, I know I’m going to freak out if I’m alone, after digging all that up.”
“I guess I could sleep on the floor?” Matthew slowly suggested, watching Simon carefully.
“No, I mean, I want…” Simon’s hands flitted together in front of him for a moment before he reached out and touched Matthew’s knee. “Please stay with me.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea…” Matthew started.
“Please stay with me!” Simon burst out, “I can’t be alone after that, please, please don’t go!”
Matthew froze.
“Uhh…”
“Please,” Simon started sobbing, the tears flowing again and his words melding together, “I don’t wanna be alone down here anymore, I want you to stay -”
He cut himself off by leaning forward and crashing his lips into Matthew’s, his hands grabbing at Matthew’s shirt. Matthew kissed back for the briefest moment before catching himself and pulling away.
“Simon, I can’t, you’re drunk -”
“I don’t care!” Simon cried, “Please don’t leave me, please!”
Matthew detached Simon’s hands from his shirt as gently as he could.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said firmly, “Would that be okay?”
“No, I need you to…” Simon grabbed Matthew’s waistband, “I need you, I’ll do whatever you want.” His eyes sought out Matthew’s desperately, wide and tearful, “I know you want me, I know-”
“No,” Matthew moved Simon’s hand away again, avoiding his gaze, “I’m not doing that. I’ll be right back.”
Matthew quickly got off the bed, gathered up the rest of the empty cans, and left, while Simon doubled over on the bed and wept. He found the lights in the main room were on, and Gina stood by the light switch.
“What the fuck is going on?” she demanded.
“Uhh…” Matthew glanced over his shoulder towards the sounds of crying, then back at her.
“He told me everything. Now he’s not doing so good. Plus…” he hefted the cans in his arms.
“Jesus.”
“Yeah,” Matthew dumped the cans into the sink with a clatter, “I’m going to sleep in there on the floor.”
He went to the cot and rolled up his sheets and blankets along with the thin mattress.
“Okay,” Gina said, “Just be… mindful.”
It was odd phrasing, but Matthew understood what she was driving at.
“Nothing’s going to happen,” he assured her, “I won’t let it.”
She pressed her knuckles to her mouth.
“Okay,” she murmured, and watched him carry his bedroll and pillow back to the bedroom.
Simon was a silent lump under the covers when Matthew returned. Matthew wasn’t sure whether Simon was asleep already or just ignoring him, but he said “I’m here,” anyway. He unrolled the burrito of bedding onto the floor and dropped the pillow into place. Still receiving no response from Simon, he laid down and pulled up the covers.
The bright lights blared down, making it hard to keep his eyes closed. All this new information was like a tornado passing through his brain, uprooting long-held assumptions and delivering strange, new discoveries. Simon wasn’t a young prodigy; he’d never finished highschool, much less got a bachelor’s and gone through academy training. He didn’t have a few vampires with a grudge after him, he had over two dozen that were utterly obsessed. He wasn’t a cool-headed expert with a storied past, he was a victim. A tragedy. A blubbering mess. Even sober, hooking up with him would be unethical, wouldn’t it?
Matthew cursed himself for thinking about relationship potential at a time like this.
Besides, knowing what he knew now, and as much as he wished there was, clearly there wasn’t any.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
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Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy @pigeonwhumps @sunshiline-writes @seasaltandcopper
#whump#whump writing#whump fic#sunless lives#sunless lives arc 1#cw alcohol#cw discussion of grooming#cw discussion of trafficking#cw dubcon kiss#my writing
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Harry and Jill
mbrazfield (c) 2023 Harry is from Cincinnati a failed Jack of allJill grew up in Amarillodish water blonde with cheap expensive tastesHarry’s folks were working classdad the pool hall alcoholicmom hid hers in the laundry shedback then Harry said we lived barely enoughby Sugar Hill between the parksmy paw a union man scraping for our mealsJill watched his lips as the story woreshe’d look at me…
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#Aging#Alcoholism#Domestic Violence#DTLA Skid Row#Homeless Women#Human Trafficking#Morrison Hotel#Personal Choices#Toxic Relationships
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Ateez as Villains
disclaimer: read at your own risk. do not interact if not comfortable with any tropes. reminder that this is a work of fiction and must be treated so.
warnings: absolutely no morals here, 18+ mdni, illegal acts (abduction, murder, physical abuse, stalking, trafficking, financial crimes, dirty politics, corruption), suggestive/nsfw scenes, explicit language (swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, smoking, drugs, alcohol
a/n: couldn't have done this without @eightmakesonebraincell's and @chronicvagabonds' validation lmao also tribute to tite kubo for coming up with the juiciest dialogues, some of which i quoted here
Hongjoong
The Manipulator
hongjoong always knew he had leadership skills
from being the team leader whenever he played games as a young child, to growing up and eventually influencing people
he was often told that he has a certain way of pulling people’s attention and leave something stirring inside them with his words
so it is no surprise that hongjoong is where he is today. a renowned businessman, philanthropist and… politician
hongjoong adjusts the sleeves of his shirt and glances at you from the mirror
you are standing behind him, holding his coat for him. he wears it with a proud smile and holds his chin high
“tonight is very important. for me. for this country.”
he goes on about how there will be people from all over the country
people who are the foundation of this nation. people who care about the future of this world
and if you weren’t so blinded by the adoration you have for this man you would have called him delusional
but the fact is that you are deluded by him. hongjoong has the ability to cast a spell with his words
he feeds his supporters the lie of a better world in the near future, and they bow to him
hongjoong smiles devilishly at the thought of what entails the events of tonight
he can picture it clearly- the cheers and desperate screams of his followers as he steps on the podium
the cries of these people, as helpless as sheeps in a herd, waiting for an upright politician to save this nation
he can feel the thrill just imagining what it will be like tonight when he addresses the nation as the new face of his political party
to a common person, he would just be another man with a good heart striving for a better change
but the common person is weak, and for them… he is their salvation
they will hear his words tonight- words he has carefully crafted himself. the cues will register in their minds, and they will end up seeking him to announce their undying support and loyalty, to shower in his glory
you straighten hongjoong’s coat and smooth over his shirt, your hands unsteady with anticipation
“aren’t you happy to be right next to me when i conquer the stage tonight?” he whispers, lifting your chin up
you meet his eyes and he can see his answer there
you hope he doesn’t see the conflict in your eyes. the conflict is to be concealed in your heart, in the deepest, untouchable corner of it
you are blessed, they tell you, to be the politician’s favoured
and you are- you truly are. hongjoong loves you. he adores you
in fact… he’s almost obsessed with you
and why wouldn’t he be? you were the one who led him here
you were the one who held his hand and showed him the right path- his partner, and now his secretary
oh, how you sometimes wish you could turn back the hands of the clock and go back to when hongjoong was hopeless and thought that the world was a wretched place beyond saving
that is when you told him that the only way to run this world was to join hands with the elites of this nation- or to become one
it must be the fates that led him to where he is today
after all, isn’t he a king without a crown? a ruler without a throne?
he is a born leader and a strategist. he has always been good with his words
it’s how he earned the favour and graces of the elites and the politicians and made a place for himself- not under them, but beside them
but to stand beside those people, you have to be a little… corrupt. and morally ambiguous
the world is not run by saints, after all
“sweetheart?” he calls when he sees you are distracted
you don’t miss the warning tone in his voice. tonight, you have to be on your toes
you have to seek out willing supporters and show them that they mean the world to hongjoong and his political party
but more importantly… you need to target other politicians, find their weaknesses and if lucky, have some join hands with you
“i’m here,” you tell him and he nods firmly, pressing a kiss to your temple
“i will see you tonight,” he promises, and you know what he means
he always gets such a thrill out of playing the leader
he gets so much energy, and he has to take it out one way or another
and what better way to take it out in the form of lovemaking?
you feel warmth course through your body as he trails his finger down the middle of your chest purposely
he almost smiles maniacally as he leaves first, giving you a moment to gather your wits
you pour yourself a glass of drink- you can’t possibly do this sober
you join hongjoong as he gives his first speech- a very normal talk about how this nation is on the verge of collapse
corruption, crime, inhumanity, dirty politics? you name it
you admire his resilience, really. whatever he is talking about comes straight from his heart, and he has been talking about these issues for a long time now
you also admire his pompousness and the audacity to talk about dirty politics, when he is the face of dirty politics
you join the audience when they clap for him, your heart full of pride
there is a break where he meets with the high-profile people and asks them to consider joining hands with him
‘to make a better world for the future generations’. such inspiring words from such a young political leader
except hongjoong’s trick is that he always, always has something over them
he has a team dedicated specifically for this task- to dig dirt on his political targets so he can wield them like the blade of a guillotine over their heads
despite his evil means to climb the top, somehow, his image and reputation remains far too clean
and that is because he knows to take these actions behind the scenes, away from any eyes
a true politician, he’s been dubbed
it is about midnight when the hall almost empties, leaving only the members of your party and some new faces- people who are willing to hear him out and decide if they want to join his party
you wish you could tell them that it is a trap- hongjoong will promise that their efforts and support will lead them to something great
‘the greater good’, he always says, except these people do not know what they are getting into
they are merely sacrificial lambs, the stepping stones that will lead hongjoong closer to his utopia
they will, for the sake of loyalty, put a blindfold over their eyes. they will hold him in high reverence as he becomes their lord, their saviour
he will feed them copper pellets and claim that this is the best that they can get while he himself sits on a throne made of gold
and when they empty every last drop of whatever they have to offer- their blood, sweat and tears
hongjoong will discard them without remorse. that is who he is- a master manipulator
when you are done wrapping up the event in the deep, dark hours of the night, hongjoong finds you in your bedroom
his chest is heaving with energy that is threatening to combust from within him
he outstretches his hand and you saunter over to him
his hands are dominating when he holds you, though his kiss is soft and unrushed
until that too becomes scalding hot
he is quick to lead you to the couch where you sit on his lap, finding him painfully hard
he groans loudly and starts to unbuckle his pants, and you instantly know what he wants- you always know what he wants
he easily slides his hard length inside your warmth and groans heavily in relief, resting his head back and just letting you both stay still
you only move to rest your head against his shoulder. he can have you like this for as long as he wants
“we have a lot of new supporters tonight,” he begins, chuckling deeply, “the polls seem to be in our favour too.”
his dark curls caress your face as you snuggle against him
“we also managed to score deals with many influential politicians and businessmen tonight,” he tells you and you look at him with pride as he names them
“soon,” he begins, trailing his hands under your dress and squeezing your thighs, “soon… we will have our people in every sector- in business, healthcare, industrial, courts… we will be controlling the nation- we… we are the leaders of this nation.”
his cock twitches inside you as he finishes that sentence and you bite your lips in thought
“what are you thinking, love?” he asks, caressing your face
“i just sometimes wonder,” you begin- can you admit your bare thoughts to him?
he squeezes your thigh as a sign to go ahead
“i wonder how we got here, joong,” you admit, “you know that we are exploiting people-”
“for the greater good-”
“for the greater good, yes,” you finish, nodding and he furrows his brows in concentration
“these people are just like us. we were once slaves of this society, but now we are the leaders. and they are our slaves. but…”
“they will offer us what they have,” hongjoong replies softly, “and we will make the best out of it. isn’t that right?”
you nod. there is no more space for any more questioning
you have never like the darkness in his eyes when you question his- your- methods
all he knows is that he is right
he knows what he is doing is wrong in essence, but it is about the bigger picture- he is doing this for his nation
and you cannot expect to run a nation claiming to be a saint
the nation is run by wolves, and to make space there, you must be some sort of a predator. that is who he has become
his grip on your thighs tighten and he starts to grind your body on him
between the sounds of pleasure is the groan of pain as he spanks your thighs and remind you of your place
“all you have to do is follow me,” he breathes into your ear, trailing his lips across your cheek. “all you have to do is stay with me. together…” he thrusts hard inside you. “together, we will rule the world one day, you and i.”
you nod and he swallows your moans as he kisses you, thrusting with all his might until you both come crashing down
he takes you to the shower and you both quickly clean up and get in bed
as you watch his figure relax and succumb to sleep, you confess to him
“you are a great politician, hongjoong,” you tell him and the corners of his lips curl in a smile. “i’m just afraid of going too far with you. every day, we learn that we can get worse than we are, yet…”
“yet, it has become my addiction and my duty,” he whispers, hand finding your bare arm and caressing it. “don’t you want to rule the world?”
“you will rule the world. i will be treading on your shadow, following you closely and sharpening my teeth… but afraid.”
“afraid of what?”
“of you,” you breathe and he opens one eye
“you won’t leave me, will you?” he asks innocently, yet it is there- the warning in his tone
you are responsible for who he is today. you are an accomplice
every person he ruins to get closer to the top, you are equally responsible for it
“of course not,” you tell him, “i can’t leave you.”
hongjoong notices your choice of words
you can not leave him- you do not have a choice
he holds you close and kisses you like he means it that night
it would be such a shame if he would have to throw you away after all of this, right?
it would truly be such a shame if you are just like the others in the end- weak and helpless
since you know exactly what is going on inside hongjoong’s head, you tell him you love him like you really mean it and you let him hold you close
it may be a trap, but you don’t mind being trapped if this is where you end up every night- in his arms
your lord, your saviour
The Manipulator and the Manipulated
Seonghwa
Jekyll
park seonghwa is a man who is adored wherever he goes
be it at work- at a prestigious university as a neuroscience professor, dr. park, or at social gatherings, formal or informal
he is a man born with the best manners, the most caring and generous heart
you’ve seen him around the department as a masters student and attended a few of his classes
but you never got to interact with him personally until it’s time to choose a thesis supervisor and you learn that you have a chance with him
it’s purely because he’s amazing at what he does
your subfield matches with his specialty so it will be better if he’s your supervisor (and it’s only a bonus that the man is painfully hot so you’ll never be bored)
your professor recommends you to seonghwa and he goes over your synopsis which leaves him intrigued because coincidentally, he’s researching in molecular neuroscience as well
he gladly takes you on because he believes you both will be helping each other along the way
plus, he recognises your name- you’ve always had a different air about you (and he remembers you from somewhere else too)
he’s looking forward to working with you, that’s all
so when you arrive on your first day as his supervisee and research assistant
you catch him in his natural habitat- unaware of his surroundings, humming a tune to himself and swiping his hair hurriedly to the side with the hand that’s holding a clear solution of some sort while struggling not to drop his notes on the table that has a few microscope slides
basically, moments away from a disaster
he spots you and grunts as if asking for help and you immediately drop your bag to rush towards him, only now noticing that somehow, he’s holding his glasses by his teeth
you first take those out of his mouth and he groans in relief. “can you please help me wear my glasses? those cultures are moments away from expiring.”
“oh goodness,” you mutter and you lock eyes with him as you put on his glasses for him
and your intrusive thoughts take over because you simply cannot take how his hair is poking his eyes so you gently brush his hair out of his eyes
for a moment, time is frozen for all sorts of reasons
before seonghwa takes a deep breath and you blink, immediately getting out of his way and holding his notes for him
the notes apparently hold the readings on how much solution he needs to pour so you read it for him and consequently save him from a disaster
as soon as he is done freezing the cultures, he holds the edge of the table to save himself from slumping in relief
and you share a laugh, the ice breaking just like that
he tells you that the student assigned for taking care of the cultures had an emergency and he had to rush from another department
and he thanks you for helping him
you both move to his office to go over your thesis and he helps you create a timeline
you wrap up the meeting with a clear direction of what’s next and with a schedule of shifts where you will be assisting him
it doesn’t take long to get used to being a part of his team of five calm students with a little streak of crazy
and you suppose dr. park has an eye for people like that because you fit right in
you are all very dedicated so he seems to be at ease when you are working, though he does monitor you more closely since you’re new
you start to spend more time in the lab simply because you like how it feels there
it is like a little cocoon where you can tune out the rest of the world and work on your thesis without distractions (plus, it helps how people from your team pop in once in a while to throw some suggestions at you)
you like how it is there- neat and clean
the sound of metal against metal, glass against glass. the smell of the cleaning agent which calms you since it is something familiar now
and then there’s dr. park himself, gentle and composed, yet at times clumsy and rough which results in the room cackling with laughter
however, there’s a side to him that you only see when you’re alone with him
you’re not sure if he’s like that with everyone- he must be, right?
does he pay as much attention to everyone else as you?
perhaps, you’re delusional. that must be it
seonghwa knows you must think that, because he has not been very obvious but he has not been subtle either
it’s just that he remembers you from that time. he remembers seeing your face in his friend wooyoung’s data
wooyoung, who is an expert at singling out people like them
people like seonghwa who have a little streak of crazy in them, yet manage to be a part of the society almost seamlessly
wooyoung’s company does a good job at managing these people because they ultimately help the black market grow
seonghwa is half convinced wooyoung’s company is just a faction of the government but of course he can’t confirm that
all he knows is that he cannot act out too much and get caught
in return, he knows when someone like him is in his radar
here you are, glasses perched on the tip of your nose as you examine different slides under the microscope, muttering to yourself about the readings as your scribble them
he can’t help but notice how you always wear that one specific shade of deep red on your lips or how your hair falls in the most irresistible way in front of your face
he’s never looked at a student this way- ever- but you’re not just a student now, are you?
so when he makes his move, approaching you from behind as silently as he can
he’s not disappointed when you turn- he didn’t make a sound, yet you knew
you’re not even surprised, and that excites seonghwa to no end
“ah, dr. park,” you go casually, as if him sneaking behind you was normal behaviour. “can you approve of these hypotheses?”
seonghwa hums and stands awfully close to you, your sides brushing against each other
he purposely crowds in your personal space as he leans in to confirm the readings of the specimens on the table
“everything’s perfect,” he announces, meeting your eyes
you’re still sitting so you have to look up at him and lord. what a sight he is even from this angle. you could totally get used to it-
“what are you looking at, sweetheart?” seonghwa smirks knowingly
you have to physically struggle to maintain your composure because you are pretty sure you were gawking
“nothing, just zoned out,” you say, which isn’t a lie but not the whole truth either
he knows though. he knows the effect he has on you because he hasn’t been subtle
from the casual touches to the unnecessary (but not undeserved) praise
from the prolonged eye contact to the suggestive smirks
there is something electric between the two of you, an undeniable tension
and while you’re not one who sticks to the rules, you can’t help but wonder just why is dr. park playing with you?
“you sure you’re okay?” seonghwa leans in and searches your eyes for any signs of lies
upon finding none but gaining satisfaction from the way your lips part in surprise, he draws back
you try your best not to make things awkward for the rest of the time you’re with him
and in the following days, his advances only start becoming stronger in nature
you like the attention he gives you. you like how he always puts his hands on your shoulders and gives them a little squeeze whenever he finds you sitting
you like the way his warm breath caresses your cheek when you’re both sitting side by side inspecting a specimen
you enjoy the sound of his gentle voice as he instructs you
it’s almost as if he knows. it’s almost as if he’s asking for it
does he not know that once you become obsessed with something, you’ll try- no, you will possess it at all costs?
so one night when you’re both working at late hours, busy with wrapping up one section of your thesis
you can’t take it when seonghwa scolds you teasingly for being clumsy
“you’ve got pen on your chin,” he says and before you can take care of it, he himself scoots closer-
too close for it to be professional anymore because at this point, he can probably count the freckles on your face too-
and begins to rub at your the skin near your lips gently
he frowns when it doesn’t come off, and then he has the audacity to lick his thumb and rub your skin again
“dr. park,” you mutter, about to remind him how you are supposed to be a teacher and student
you’re not friends (despite the very friendly relationship you have developed with him)
seonghwa only hums and you can’t help but notice how he stifles a smirk as he moves his thumb to your lower lip and swipes it, all the while maintaining eye contact
you raise a brow in challenge, silently questioning why he’s still holding your chin
he leans in as if to kiss you and you stop breathing
except he tilts his head to whisper in your ear
“would you like to attend the next soul society meeting with me, love?”
to say that you freeze is an understatement
you don’t move when his lips caress your cheeks as he stays in that position
you don’t move when he purposely trails his lips along your cheek as he draws back
“what’s your classification?” you manage to ask, your voice barely a whisper
the way seonghwa smirks is something you’ll never forget
“jekyll,” he says. “nice to meet you, hyde.”
there’s a moment of silence where all you can do is stare at the man in front of you
a moment of pure static
as soon as you take off your mask and your lips curl in a smirk, it happens
you don’t know who took the first step but you’re both kissing each other
it’s rushed, passionate and desperate, the air filling with your grins and giggles and you’re only glad you’re not in the lab right now because the way seonghwa clears the table with a swipe of his hand, making the notes fall on the ground
only to lift you up and seat you there so he can kiss you better? being in the lab would have done some damage alright
between kisses, you learn how seonghwa recognised you
you ask him if he lured you here somehow, but he tells you it’s just luck that you’re here as his student right now. you don’t quite believe him though
but you let it be- if he’s jekyll, that means he’s got the brains to scheme
he tells you that he’s glad to have found his hyde because he would prefer someone else to do his dirty work for him
you agree- it’s been far too long since you’ve had an adventure, and you’ve heard about the notorious jekyll in the soul society too. you just never connected the dots
he takes you to his private lab (not before feasting on you and fucking you on that very table)
for the next few weeks, you familiarise yourself with his actual research
mind altering chemicals and drugs, anything to do with control
very illegal stuff, but the soul society funds him with whatever he needs
he can’t believe he found you- you’re perfect for him
seonghwa believes he has morals and he can be a good person
so you make the perfect partner because you can be the bad person in his stead
you’re his alter ego, the voice in his head that he never lets come out
you’re the person who not only matches his freak but helps bring it into manifestation. you are now his face
while he advances in molecular neuroscience in the world, you advance, on his behalf, in the underworld
there’s no blood on your hands- you both only produce drugs. you’re not responsible for what is done with them
you do sometimes assist in the practical work, which seonghwa avoids, because after all, he has a reputation to maintain as dr. park
no one suspects a thing. you’re just supervisor and supervisee who share a similar obsession with research
nothing to worry about
Jekyll and Hyde
Yunho
The Hunter
when you finally got to a blind date that your friend begged you to go to, you didn’t expect to meet a man who would actually catch your eye
there is something about this man, jeong yunho, that instantly pulls you in as if you really are tied by a thread
for starters, he is incredibly handsome and has a soft vibe to him that exudes warmth
his voice has a soothing quality and his mannerisms are as gentle as his gaze. his laugh is pure and he makes quite a good company
he just makes you feel comfortable and safe right away, which is kind of surprising
so when yunho tells you about himself, confirming that he is indeed a corporate lawyer at a well-known firm, you are simply in awe
you thought your friend was bluffing when she told you that she is trying to set you up with a ‘beauty with brains’
she was not lying, is all you can think now
you’re a simple school teacher, you tell yunho with a laugh
however, the man’s eyes are practically twinkling as he hears your stories about school
you’re only telling him because he insisted, and now he can’t stop appreciating your profession, saying that it’s admirable how you are able to connect with children and educate them
the conversation steers to your likes and dislikes, your preferences, and what you’re looking for in a partner
surprisingly, the two of you have a lot in common
you both have a special place in your heart for food. you both love travelling. and there are some things he does not need to say out loud
like how he’s a caring person- always making sure you’re comfortable and your bowl is full, draping his coat over your shoulders when you leave the restaurant and scour the streets for something sweet
the hand that he offers you is not suggestive and you like that (you also like how tall he is and how his hand engulfs yours almost entirely)
just two people who talk about anything and everything- that’s who you become by the end of the night
as you settle in bed later, you’re still smiling about how his eyes twinkled when he learned that you too have a thing for gaming too
you have good feelings about this person so far but there’s a feeling scratching at your heart that has you restless
it is the way his eyes darkened almost dangerously, only momentarily, when you insisted that you could get home on your own
he was a gentleman, no doubt about it, insisting that you could never be too sure these days especially with the news being so horrible lately, the crime rate spiking up dramatically in the past few months
you just did not like the idea of having a stranger accompany you all the way to your home, even if it was this gentleman- this was only your first meeting
so he made you promise to call him and let him know when you get home
and here you are. you dated him for a few months before you both decided to move in together into an apartment that suited your needs
he’s perfect in every way- attentive, responsive, caring, funny, and he gives you space when you need it
which matters the most because you value your personal space a lot
he understands the importance of personal space very well and even though you share a room, you both let each other be
you let him be when he’s gaming, and he lets you be when you’re staring at the ceiling or reading
more often though, he’ll have you sit on his lap as he games
since he’s so much bigger than you, you’ll curl on top of him to read or scroll and he’ll be focused on his game, liking your presence
it doesn’t always lead to something but when it does, it’s always fun
he has you smitten- his kisses still make you feel like it’s your first time sharing a kiss (and he’s damn good at it)
his touch lingers on your skin throughout the day and you cannot wait to be back in his arms again
it is just another night when you decide to walk and take the longer route back home because apparently yunho was going to be late and you did not want to be home alone
it gets quieter as you navigate through the streets and alleys
and when you take a turn and notice a familiar figure, you stop in your tracks
is that… not yunho? the back and the height looks pretty much the same
the man is watching a woman at the end of the street who is using her phone as if waiting for someone
the woman catches the man watching her and grows wary- you can tell even from the distance
you can tell that she is very much pretending to be on call when she starts moving
despite every cell in your body urging you to ignore this and go back home, you start to follow the man when he starts to follow the woman
you are careful to maintain a distance, cursing yourself internally for being a curious little shit who seeks thrill like there’s no tomorrow
but the woman takes a left, and the man takes a right, leaving you standing in the middle of the street, taking a few deep breaths
nothing happened, you think. you turn and start to trace your path back
and just a minute later, there’s an unmistakable sound of a woman’s scream filling the air
every hair on your body rises as your heart drops and eyes widen
you’re frozen in one spot with no idea what to do next- should you go check on the woman? see if it was the same person?
not once do you think of calling the police though
you walk back home, lost in your thoughts with the image of the man’s familiar figure branded in your mind especially since you are pretty damn sure that those were little sunflowers embroidered on the hem of the hoodie
sunflowers that you embroidered on yunho’s hoodie
when you open the door to your apartment, though, you hear the sound of the TV and yunho is sitting very casually on the couch
“ah, you’re home,” he grins and waves, just like he usually does
he’s not wearing the hoodie anymore
“i thought you were gonna be late?” you ask
“you’re late,” he counters. “why did it take you so long to get home?”
“just decided to take a walk,” you smile, ruffling his hair and planting a kiss on the top of his head before going to your room
you grab your clothes and move towards the bathroom to take a shower, and it is then that yunho’s eyes widen
“ah, babe?” he calls, his voice uncharacteristically high
when you don’t answer, he rushes towards the bathroom and finds you standing in the doorway
your eyes are fixed on the sink which is a pale shade of pink with handprints on it
yunho curses himself internally- he rushed to hide his hoodie as soon as he got home, jumped in the shower, spotted the bloody sink from when he first washed his hands and decided to make it look like he had been home for a while before cleaning the sink
only he fucking forgot
it doesn’t look as bad- it’s not a bloody red, for starters
“ah, i forgot to clean that up,” yunho awkwardly laughs, proceeding to move inside and open the tap, taking a sponge and cleaning the edges of the sink
yeah. it does not look that bad
“i accidentally spilled that red ink you have in the room- i don’t know why i got curious and messed with it.”
that’s not the colour of your ink, though, and you know it never leaves stains like these
“don’t worry about it,” you tell him, but your eyes are wider than usual. yunho notices that
he lets you shower in peace, all the while thinking if you suspect something
truth be told, he saw you when you were following him back there which is why he took another turn to mislead you
he also knows you are far too observant for your own good
he can’t lie- one of the reasons he fell for you is because of that. you are just like him
though you are free of sin unlike him, your mind is a mess
you notice too much that is not meant to be noticed. you sometimes say things that even he has not thought about. you question if human morals are an actual thing or a made up construct
is it from reading too much fiction? he thinks not
when you come out of the shower, something possesses you to move to the balcony
and that’s another thing yunho likes about you (which also scares him a little at times)
it is your intuition- which leads you to inspect the little corner where you pile up useless stuff. you can see the sleeve of his hoodie there
you pick it up and find it wet in certain spots
on its black base, you can’t tell what it is, but the sunflowers are stained a suspicious red colour, and it’s definitely not your ink
you look towards your right where yunho is standing, vigilant
there is a moment of silence before you lower the hoodie
“it really was you,” you say, unwavering
your heart is not speeding because you’re scared- it is speeding because you are right
yunho is still, contemplating how to deal with this
did he think he could hide his secret from you forever? no. was he prepared in case he gets caught? no
he just never imagined it would unfold like this
and now… will he have to hurt you if you threaten to expose him? he can’t bear to hurt a hair on your head
you bring out all the good in him. he does not know how you do that, but you make him believe that he can love with all of his heart too, just like any other person
you make him feel whole, and it would be such a shame if things fall apart now
to his surprise, you drop the hoodie back and walk towards him until there’s little distance between the two of you
you hold both of his hands in yours and look at him earnestly
“are you going to tell me what you have been up to?”
yunho is surprised at how calm your voice is and how accepting your eyes are
he sighs deeply before steering you to the couch in the living room
and then he bares his heart to you
he is a monster. that is it. he hurts people and it satisfies this ugly part of him
he does not always want to, he justifies, but sometimes, he just can’t help it
and the only reason he gets away with it is because he is not stupid and carefully chooses his victims- people who are miserable. people who have no one around them
“well then… i’m lucky to have one person in my life, right?”
yunho’s eyes widens at your response
you fulfil the criteria of being his victim- you have no one
you have no one but him- how did that happen?
he thinks back to your first date and he can’t help but feel overwhelmed
he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his head about to explode
why are you not running away from him? why are you caressing his head and holding him close?
you don’t tell him everything right away. you only ask him to trust you
so he trusts you and waits for you
he learns little bits about you- you, who do not care who yunho is, as long as he is transparent with you
you, who has a twisted sense of morality. you, who might be as bad as yunho, even worse
though, your hands are clean, you tell him sarcastically, it’s just your head that is a mess
and it’s a blessing that you two are together and can be honest about this too, right? how lucky you are to have each other
“you, without sin, are like the sun,” he tells you one night as he kisses the top of your head and holds you close
“you, even with sin, are like the sun,” you respond.
The Hunter and His Guide
Yeosang
The Mad Scientist
there is something about the innocent features of his face, the gentleness in his mannerism, the absolute ethereal aura about him
that contrasts strikingly with the pitch black (or maybe, just two shades lighter) of his soul
the man only knows how to scheme and how to take the best possible route towards his goals
the goals are all related to science
sure, he is contributing to the scientific area, doing researches no one else would do
doctor kang yeosang- a scientist and philosopher, held in high reverence in the medical field, contributing with numerous researches centering the human body
nobody needs to know exactly how he gets such extensive, solid results to support his theories
he comes off as a soft-spoken man, someone who possesses a kind heart
he is willing to overwork himself in order to make life easier for others
he is much appreciated by his peers
they don’t need to know that behind his neat and professional setup is a dark, cold space that holds his real workspace
the endless corridors lined with shelves upon shelves of jars
jars containing the human body parts within them
from the brain to the spleen, from the heart to the liver
each jar meticulously lined in an organisation such that only yeosang could close his eyes and know where to pick what he needs
each organ in the jar has a story of the human that it once was- the story that yeosang himself scribes and tucks in the safe (and in a corner of his heart)
taking it out only to read and reminiscence, or to make another addition
such as the one that he is about to make now, sauntering with an almost skipping manner, highlighting his delight in the events about to unfold
his pristine white lab coat flows behind him, a symbol of everything that he would not be doing tonight, which only adds to the irony of it all
he finds you mirroring his expressions, eyes wide with anticipation and lips curled in a stifled smile
and he can’t help but smile wider, the sound of his footsteps echoing loudly as he speeds towards you so that he can finally hold you after the long day he had, tired of playing it cool in front of everyone
you are snaking your arms around his neck immediately as he bends down to capture your lips in a fierce kiss, earning a surprised but pleased yelp from you
you let him have his moment, kissing him back with equal passion until he draws away and rests his forehead against your shoulder
“long day, huh?” you press your lips against his temple. “how did the presentation go?”
the presentation being at a conference of the national medical association where yeosang was the chief guest, awarded for his valuable insights to the medical world
“i sometimes wonder if i’m the only one wearing a mask,” yeosang confesses.
you know what he means
there surely must be others just like him
you can’t expect to make medical advancements while sticking to the stupid laws and regulations they have carved for you
the medical associations do not allow anyone freedom
“it’s tiring to pretend my research was simply a result of my team’s hard work,” yeosang continue, “they didn’t do batshit. i wish i could credit you instead.”
“but you can’t,” you caress his dark locks. “that would certainly raise suspicion since i’m… underqualified.”
well, that’s arguable
you may not be as good as yeosang at what you do but considering that you come from a non-medical background, yeosang would say that you are pretty close
in fact, overqualified
“i don’t think there’s anyone more qualified than you,” yeosang lifts his head to look up at you, eyes scanning your face. “you’re an expert of the human body.”
you are an expert, that is true
you did what you had to do to survive as a young girl who lost her way
you were meant to be a test subject yourself but you created your own path and proved that you were good with your hands- almost artistic
and that you could open up humans as long as you had a good knife
your skills were a bit rusty when yeosang found you in the black market
but he was thoroughly impressed and made an offer. it was an offer that you couldn’t resist
you would no longer be bound to be a slave for the rest of your life
you would be his equal. an accomplice
“but you are the mad scientist. i’m just your unofficial assistant,” you pat his cheek in answer
it’s a wonder that you’re here now, in his arms
a muffled sound interrupts your little moment
you both steer towards the big room and yeosang looks around for a moment to take in the glory of his workplace
the crisp white walls and clean tiles smelling of antiseptic, marred with red stains of blood that is dripping from the man’s limbs
the man who is currently tied to a stretcher in the middle of the room
the instruments and tools that he would be using tonight to open his test subject up are glinting with silver, ready to be used
he has chosen the perfect target- a relatively healthy, middle-aged homeless man
really, no one would care if he went missing
in fact, you were doing him a favour by putting an end to his miserable life, right?
surely, he did not wish to live without a home and the means to survive
though here he was, sedated but struggling nonetheless, as if finally having found the will to live
“ah, he created a mess,” yeosang begins, clicking his tongue in disappointment as he inspects the bruises around the man’s wrists. “i’m sorry you had to wait so long, hmm?”
it’s almost eerie, how yeosang’s voice drips with pity
but that’s what you like about him
he thinks of the greater good. he is doing all of this for the greater good
there is no personal desire to kill random human beings, no
he simply needs test subjects to study the human body, so there can be advancements in the medical world
he just can’t believe that the world does not have a cure or even a prevention for most of the diseases in this age
he has taken it upon himself to contribute to the medical world so people do not have to suffer anymore
he complains about this a lot
if people had guts, they would have done this ages ago
sometimes, he refers to the awful medical experiments done by humankind- especially on women
he is different from them, he claims
he cares about their pain- that is why he makes sure to make his subjects’ death quick and painless before he starts to conduct his experiments
it’s just too bad that he doesn’t have much time after the person passes to study certain functions of a living human
(so sometimes, he makes exceptions and asks god for forgiveness. easy peasy)
you watch yeosang with a sort of wonder and a little something that resembles fear as he caresses the man’s head in farewell
he asks the man to say his last words, to choose them carefully, to take his time and to make peace with the fact that there is no way out
the sedatives seem to have made the man somewhat placid
the test subject stops resisting to lock eyes with the doctor
he says something about the regrets he’s had in his life and how he just wants his misery and pain to end now
yeosang’s brows are furrowed in concentration as he listens to each and every word, nodding along as if he aims to fulfil every desire this man possesses
his hand is gently caressing the man’s head
when the man is done, yeosang tells him that his contribution to medical research won’t be forgotten
he looks at you to find you already staring at him with an unreadable expression
he signals you to get the job done and you inject the medicine meant to stop the man’s heart
you watch the man take his last breath, his face contorting in pain as his heart ceases to function
yeosang has already moved on from the little moment he had, putting on medical gloves and snapping them against his skin rather dramatically
“let’s get to work, shall we?”
you smile in response, following his instructions
soon, you are testing the functioning of the man’s abdominal organs with various equipment and drugs that yeosang has bought from the black market
you have to work quickly before necrosis begins and hinders you
yeosang is very careful with his methods. his hands are steady as if he has done this a thousand times already
and though he comes off as clumsy in the public eye, he is anything but here
his eyes are focused, darting between the electrodes placed on the man’s liver to the readings on the screen
it goes on like this for a while, yet another failed experiment as the liver fails to respond as desired to the electric shock and necrosis takes over
it doesn’t disappoint any of you though
yeosang has a strong vision and no amount of failed experiments is going to stop him
plus, there’s always something you learn even from failure
you begin to clean up when you notice a broken nail lying on the stretcher
you pick it up with tweezers and inspect it- it must have broken when the man was struggling to break free
yeosang catches you looking at the discoloured nail with curiosity and he hums in question
“hair and fingernails are beautiful ornaments.” you ask, “so why do they seem so baleful when they are removed?
yeosang stands beside you, pondering
“the answer is simple. they are previews of what is to come. of death.”
you look at him to find his eyes twinkling with the knowing glint of someone who’s seen it all
after you both finish recording the data of tonight’s session, yeosang is back to being the cute and clumsy person that you absolutely adore
the man is craving chicken after today’s hard work so you fulfil his wish and take him to his favourite place
you both sit across each other, drinking beer and savouring the juicy meat while talking about casual stuff- just an assistant and her boss
just two friends who met by chance and felt an instant pull towards each other
just two lovers, fated to be together and find solace in each other’s company
as if the stars have aligned for you yet again, a familiar face walks in and sits on the table next to you
you meet yeosang’s eyes and you both stifle a smile
it’s one of the potential test subjects you’ve had in your file, due for observation
and what better observation than to sit next to them in a casual setting and eavesdrop naturally?
yeosang raises his beer glass in toast and you share a knowing smile, raising your own glass in toast
just two partners in crime. that’s who you are
The Mad Scientist and his Accomplice
San
Executioner
choi san works hard during the day
he goes to the school and makes sure his students are in top shape
as their p.e. teacher and coach, he has every student’s physical status on his fingertips
he knows their strengths and their weaknesses. he also knows their desires
so if a student is not a good runner but wants to run better, he would never tell them to give up, he would personally coach them and make sure they know that their body is not the limit
they can be a good runner, a good player, a good swimmer- anything
as long as they are steadfast, they can conquer the world
so choi san is loved and respected by the students, known to be a very caring teacher
but choi san works harder at night. no one needs to know that
certainly not his colleagues who always go about how hardworking a teacher he is
when he is free from the school, he goes to his home and changes before driving to his friend’s place- a warehouse where a few of you hang out
someone programmes, another composes, another works out
just an innocent hideout that you’re all using even in your early thirties
except that you also huddle around to read the new request you receive on your app
“i am a twenty-one year old female. two years ago, the man who dated my older sister killed her, but due to lack of evidence, he did not receive the jail time he deserves. he claims that he is innocent, but ever since he got out, he’s been bothering me because he had to serve his short sentence anyway. he is threatening to kill my family and then me if i go to the cops. i am scared to leave the house because he is stalking me and i can always see him wherever i go. please help me. i won’t go to the cops anyway- they didn’t do anything then, and they will not do anything now.”
san is contemplating if he should accept this request
you look at wooyoung who is immediately weighing the pros and the cons
you look back at san who is still deep in thought and you gently rest your hand on his thigh, bringing him out of his head
“i’ll take it,” he mutters. “accept the request, y/n.”
you nod and go back to the computer to accept the request
you have a phone call conversation with the client where you set up a meeting
it’s you and wooyoung who go to meet with the respective parties. san works in the shadows
the next night, san finds you deep in thought outside, leaning against the worn out wall of the warehouse
he joins you, hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans
“i know what you’re thinking,” san begins, glancing at you. “you’ve been awfully quiet since the meeting.”
you shrug in defeat. “i know i can’t change your mind.”
“it’s not going to be the same,” san refers back to the one time you all took a request from a 19 year old girl who was being bullied by her seniors
it got to a dangerous point and had you been a little late, you might have lost the girl
san lost his temper that time, though
and while he couldn’t physically harm the kids who were bullying the girl, he had them locked in a room for one night while he educated them
and funnily enough, san was scarier that night
scarier than every other time he actually wields a weapon
you asked him that night if there were any just people left in this world full of evil
“all people are evil. to believe that you are just, you must believe that someone else is more evil than you”
was his response. safe to say, the girl was living her best life now, but you saw a new side of san that night
a side you had never seen all your life, and that was saying something since you were childhood friends
“we won’t let it get to that point,” san assured, outstretching your hand and you pouted before taking it
he caressed your knuckles, his voice assertive. “i will take care of it. properly. i always do.”
“do you think i only worry about things going wrong?” you finally say out loud, the words that you want to say to him every time he goes out in the field
san, despite himself, breaks into a smile that would seem so out of character to anyone who has not known him for long
“you can’t smile your way out of this,” you sulk further, snatching your hand away and folding your arms
“baby,” san begins, trying to take your hand again but you’re not having any of it
“i’m worried you’ll get hurt. i’m worried about the pain you’re willing to go through so you can lessen the pain of others.”
san stops teasing then, mimicking your position as he leans against the wall next to you
there is a thick silence surrounding you and you wonder what wooyoung is doing inside- is he napping?
“it’s something i have to do. something only i can do. you know that, right?”
“i know,” you say, almost a whisper. “and that’s what makes this more frustrating.”
because it was originally your idea
on a summer night when you were all about to graduate, a tragedy happened in your town
a man went on a spree, killing and wounding multiple women and children for weeks
you, who knew one of the victims personally, were shocked by the act and disgusted at how lazy the police were being
it turned out that the assailant was a high-profile businessman and the police were trying to cover the case up as per the orders of their superiors
the three of you were hanging out in the warehouse, each burdened by their own train of thoughts, until you finally said it out loud
“what if we were some sort of a private service where we help the victims? especially when the police can’t?”
it was wooyoung who agreed first, and san who disagreed
it took him some convincing to finally agree, and you set rules
you were not going to kill anyone- only maim
if it’s a serial killer, you maim their hands so they can never hold a weapon again
if it’s a bully, you maim their mouth so they think before they speak
the three of you are a team, but san is the executioner
wooyoung is his eyes and feet, and you are the brains
so it is ironic how worried you are about san now, when you gave him this role
“i know that i can get hurt,” san begins, taking a deep breath. “but there is no pain as long as i keep my eyes on the balance scale.”
this time, when he outstretches his hand, you take it. he plants a sweet kiss on your knuckles
“don’t worry about me, hmm?” he tugs you closer so you can rest your head against his firm chest as he embraces you. “i can’t focus when you’re so worried.”
“i can’t help it,” you tell him. “you’ll just have to get used to it.”
san lifts your face with his thumb below your chin, his brows furrowed with concentration and worry as he looks at you
his eyes are sharp as he scans you so you smile
immediately, his body relaxes and the corners of his lips curl in a smile as he pecks your lips- once, twice
and it is about to turn into a deeper kiss when wooyoung claps loudly to get your attention
“alright, lovebirds. get inside. we have a heads-up.”
you scowl at wooyoung who smirks in response but you both immediately join the youngest inside
your client has texted to let you know that she’s about to go out so you can stalk her stalker
you and wooyoung take your equipment to the van and san prepares himself
he’ll be observing tonight, but he is prepared in case the stalker catches on
just like that, you observe the stalker for a few days, assuring your client that she is safe
you plan a trap to lure the stalker to an abandoned area where san will have a little chat with the stalker
and when the day comes, all your client has to do is threaten to call the cops on him
he comes after her and that is when san knocks him out with a punch
the stalker finds himself tied to a chair in an empty room when he opens his eyes
there is the stale smell of something resembling death in the room, and that makes the man resist
from the darkness, san emerges, clad in all black, his face covered with a mask
and his favourite weapon, the dagger, in his hand
you and wooyoung are watching from the camera embedded on his coat
you can see the glint of the dagger as he twists it dramatically in his hand
san circles around the man once as if to gauge the room
even through the camera, you can tell how thick the air must be feeling
san meets eyes with the man and removes the tape over his mouth, wincing when the man screams his lungs out in hopes that help would come
there is no help, not for miles
“who are you?” the stalker spits on the ground near san’s feet
san only shuts his eyes in mild annoyance. he is not easily riled up
“you have been found guilty of the crime of stalking. tell me… what should be your sentence?”
the man pales, fresh beads of sweat trickling down his forehead
“it will be better if you admit to your wrongdoings and give me a fair number. you don’t want to leave it in my hands.”
“what do you mean sentence?” the stalker starts struggling fiercely, almost falling off the chair. “i have already served!”
san grins under the mask, closing in like a cat and stomping on his foot, making the man let out a guttural groan of pain
he leans in to whisper in his ear
“but… that was for murder. and unfortunately, i am not charging you for murder tonight. otherwise… you would not have walked out alive.”
the man gulps loudly, meeting eyes with who has to be the person he has heard so much about in prison
most of the people in prison feared this man- the judge, they called him
the man was the judge, jury and executioner for criminals, feared more than the cops or actual prosecutors
“surely… you’re not him, are you?”
you wince at the fear in the stalker’s voice and meet wooyoung’s eyes
san never confirms if he is that. he simply finishes the job right there
the stalker’s screams are heard for quite a distance, even outside your earpieces
you shut your eyes momentarily and when you open, you can see the blood oozing out of the man’s left leg
san is wiping the dagger with the man’s own jacket as he tells him that he will never be able to stalk people again
the man screams and screams, waiting for something more, but nothing else comes
san’s job is done
he tosses a broken piece of glass near the chair for the man to free himself if he wishes to
when san comes back to the van, the air is sombre, just like after every finished request
wooyoung pats his shoulder in acknowledgement and mutters a joke in an attempt to lighten the mood, which works
“they still call you the judge, huh?” wooyoung teases as he drives
“judge, jury, executioner. how scary, choi san.”
san raises a brow at your comment- he can tell what you’re referring to
you’re referring to the first time when he came back covered in blood
and the first time he realised that no matter what he did, you would never be scared of him
and that you and wooyoung would always have his back and guide him
“i think i’m only the executioner. you both are the judge and jury.”
“makes sense,” wooyoung agrees. “but the world does not need to know that.”
Judge, Jury and Executioner
Mingi
The Overseer
“the future, pitch black, upside down”
mingi dips his brush into the onyx ink, finishing writing the words on the big canvas
the canvas that is a splash of colours- red for the blood on his hands. white for the innocence he lost too soon. blue for all those nights he spent trapped with only the moon as his friend
and finally, black for the future. the future is the only uncertainty in his life
despite being a leader of a notorious gang, he can never be certain about his future. there are always people after his life
he cannot trust anyone- not one soul-
“sir,” a voice interrupts and he knows who it is instantly
even if he did not hear your voice, he knows you are the only person who would dare interrupt him in the middle of his private time-
“tea, sir. you’ve been cooped up in here for too long,” you say, placing the mug on the table
-for something as meagre as tea
mingi spares a glance in your direction, noticing how you are still dressed in your usual all-black fit
which means you have not gone to sleep yet, even though it’s well past midnight
“and what are you doing up so late?” he asks as he picks up the cup and sips it, finding it exactly to his liking. a flavour only you can nail
“watching you paint,” you confess without hesitation
because in this place, in this room, between the two of you, there may be truths hidden, but there are no secrets
mingi is amused to hear that though he does his best to hide it
“and what do you think of the painting?” he asks, allowing you to take a closer look
you smile at his permission to inspect his art and you inch closer to the painting, now standing beside your boss
you read the words on it in a whisper and cock your head in thought
“isn’t this too dark, even for you?” you question
mingi shakes his head in amusement and looks down. only you could have made this observation, having been at his side for a solid seven years now
where others would say that his paintings were too ‘colourful’ considering the kind of person he is, you still find them too dark and void of life
you’d know better, because you know mingi inside out
he first found you when he was a street thug in the process of becoming something big
all he had was his raw strength, a strategic brain, a few rusty weapons and some loyal friends
he went on to fight gang after gang, always emerging victorious and merging the losing team with a good deal- it’s how he earned respect around and gained a reputation
every other gang knew not to stand against him unless they wanted to risk losing everything they had
when he first opened his office in the darkest part of the town, he found you purely by chance
you were nearing the end of your teens- a rebellious little girl who cut ties from her family and ran away from home
at that time, you had multiple part-time jobs trying to make ends meet, hoping to find a place to live
and one fateful night, you found yourself in front of a building to deliver chicken, peering up at the light coming from the 4th floor- this must be it
although… you weren’t sure if the loud sounds coming from the floor were just men having a good time or if something had gone really, really wrong
men will be men, you thought, wanting to get the delivery done with so you could move on
only when you reached the 4th floor, you spotted men lying on the ground and clutching their limbs, blood all around
while every sane part of your brain screamed at you to pretend you saw nothing and go back, you recalled how when you received the order, they promised a big tip to the rider
you could not miss that, could you? you had to find a place to live, and you needed every penny
so you started with the men who seemed to be unconscious. you took any cash they had, being careful to hide your face in the hoodie
you moved to the office, hearing a crashing sound and flinching
you made quick work of grabbing more cash from the thugs- they had to be thugs
they all had guns, for fuck’s sake
you went into one of the neater rooms and placed the bags of fried chicken there
and you froze when a burly man made his way inside, wiping blood from the edge of his mouth
“ah… you must be song’s girl, eh?” he snickered, scanning you up and down
“i- i’m delivering chicken,” you pointed at the table. “i’ll be on my way then-”
“not so quick,” his gaze darkened
instinctively, you grabbed the nearest object, which so happened to be a mug and chucked it at the man, successfully hitting his head
he clutched his head in pain and you made a dash outside, bumping into another man
the tall man seemed mostly unscathed save for a bruise on his cheek
he held your wrists to steady you and his eyes darted in the man’s direction who was clutching his head no more
“oi, song!” the burly man called. “teach your girl some manners, will you?”
the man called song pushed you to the side and a gunfight ensued
you took shelter behind a shelf, observing how the taller man successfully shot his every target
when he thought he was done- and was out of bullets, he looked in your direction and tsked loudly
you were about to come out of the shadows when you noticed one of the supposedly unconscious men take aim of song’s head
your eyes widened and almost instinctively, you grabbed a heavy metal object from the shelf and rushed to the man who was targeting your saviour
to say that mingi was surprised to see a young girl save him from his enemy by nearly crushing the man’s skull?
he knew you were something special right away
you both stared at each other for a long time before he told you to go back to his office, lock the door and not come out until he comes back
he was done sooner than you thought, and while his men cleaned his mess, he found you in his room, sitting rather calmly
“so you’re the delivery girl,” he narrowed his eyes
“i hope the chicken is still warm,” you responded. “if you can just pay me so i can leave-”
“why did you do that earlier?” he asked, voice low and rough that sent shivers up your spine
“i don’t know,” you answered truthfully
mingi paid you more than extra that night and told you to come next time they place an order
the next time would turn out to be the last time you would ever work a part-time job
mingi offered you a place in his gang, and you took it
you are still not sure what your position in this gang is though- they smuggle drugs but keep you away from the work, so what are you doing here?
personal assistant? chef? manager? all of these?
sometimes, you are accompanying wooyoung in the field- the gang now has an official base and a few legal businesses
sometimes, you stay in the kitchen with seonghwa and wooyoung to cook
other times, you sit with yunho and hongjoong to plan and offer your opinion on their strategic takes
you aren’t sure if you are qualified for that- you probably aren’t
somehow, though, the gang members respect you for whoever you are
you are the light in their dark life, they joke. you are someone’s friend now, sibling to some, secretkeeper for others
but you still aren’t sure what you are to mingi
whenever you ask him why he took you in, mingi always responds with something different
“you were clever grabbing all that money from our enemies”
“you saved me- though i must say i could have handled it”
“you looked like a lost cat”
“you didn’t report us”- excuses, all of them
truth be told, mingi has no idea what you are to him either
he has a certain fondness for you that he has for no one else. of course, it didn’t happen instantly
he took you in because he realised you had a strategic mind and he could really use that
he insisted the office needed a ‘feminine touch’ even though it came in the form of a cranky teen who wouldn’t stop asking questions
but somehow, the two of you formed an unbreakable bond
he finds solace just being with you in one room, even in complete silence
he loves to hear you talk, even though you mostly question his morals
because he is not a good person, you found out
song mingi is not conventionally good. he is a man of principles, but he does not have the best morals
despite all that, you learned a lot from him. the world is a harsh place, and only he can protect you
he learned a lot from you too. the world is a harsh place, and only you are his safe space
when at times things get stressful, he comes to seek you. he finds you in the shared residence and sits with you
if he is feeling down, you will have him lay his head in your lap. you will caress his head and let him be
if he wants to talk, he will. otherwise, he will watch you for a long time until he falls asleep, unguarded
when he gets tired, he will seek your arms. all he has to do is show up and you will know what to do
you will drop whatever you are doing and spread your arms
it is his home at this point. that’s how things are like
are you in a relationship? you don’t know
all you know is that song mingi is the most important person in your life
it doesn’t matter if he lives life the way he does
it doesn’t affect you anymore- the blood on his hands or the chaos in his mind
it doesn’t bother you because you know his heart, and that is all that matters
so standing in his private space right next to him, inspecting his painting with a critical eye, you tell him that the painting is not him
he tells you to pick a colour and you reach out for a box, making him chuckle
“really?” he asks
“the future may seem black, but…” you begin. “it doesn’t feel so dark when i’m with you.”
mingi takes a deep breath at your words. you always get him like this, and he is not sure if he can restrain himself anymore
your heart aches when you see him curl his fists, a sign that he is holding back some words or an action
“tell me what you’re thinking,” you request, though it registers like a command in the gang leader’s brain
“i’m thinking that i never should have given you this life.”
you shake your head at that- how many times has he voiced out that he wished you had lived a better, normal life, away from the clutches of the underworld?
“no, you’re thinking something else too,” you comment
“i’m thinking that i want you to stay here, with me, forever,” he responds
you nod in approval. “i’m right here. i’m not going anywhere.”
“you could get hurt,” mingi says, taking a step closer and closing the gap between your bodies
“i am a big girl now, mingi,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around his waist and hearing his erratic heartbeat
his arms are still by his sides for a moment before he embraces you
“i’m old now, in fact. how much longer will you keep me waiting?”
mingi grows stiff at your question. so you know
of course you do
mingi cups your face and locks eyes with you
“i won’t break,” you promise
“i know,” he smiles, pecking your forehead. “i’m afraid you will break me.”
your lips curl in a smile and he rests his forehead against yours
“are you sure about your choice?”
“yes,” you breathe. “i want you. i’m yours.”
mingi draws back
“i meant your choice of colour,” he tilts his head in the direction of the painting and the box of paint you picked for him
“of course you did,” you laugh at his attempt to distract you
mingi leans in to close the distance between your lips
it is soft and unrushed. you both have waited for the right moment, the right time for years and everything feels absolutely right at this moment
you go first, asking him to join you in your bedroom and he agrees
he assesses the canvas once again
as a finishing touch, he sprays a final splash of yellow- the colour you picked for him
yellow for hope, for all the light in his dark world
The Overseer and his Shelter
Wooyoung
The Maniac
it has always been a cat and mouse game with you and wooyoung
you chase after each other, running in circles with no start or end
it’s almost as if you both have sworn to keep your eyes glued on each other, watching every move, anticipating what is next
someone’s lips curls up in a failed attempt to restrain a smile- a smile that drips with mischief and mockery
someone else’s eyes glint with threat and promise that this is not over, their fists curled in anger
you chase after each other like cat and mouse
only…you’re not sure who is the cat and who is the mouse
sometimes, it is you chasing after wooyoung
jung wooyoung, the son of one of the richest businessmen in town
a privileged piece of shit who is not right in the mind
a crazy bastard who has made it his life’s mission to not only drive you to the edge of the cliff but to push you and laugh in victory as you fall
he takes advantage of you being a criminal investigator
some people jest that they can’t tell if wooyoung means to ruin your career or lead you to your promotion
with the amount of times wooyoung has gotten himself in trouble (and gotten away with it) he keeps your desk full of cases that you spend most nights investigating
while he keeps your hands full, what frustrates you to no end is that he almost always gets away with his crimes only because of his social standing and his connections
he gets away with petty crimes. he gets away with bloody fights that could very well have him spend one night in the station, cuffed
he gets away with major crimes such as money laundering and tax evasion
no matter how much you try to investigate, you cannot
there are the warnings of your superiors who threaten to fire you because this is not your worry
and even if you do start to investigate, wooyoung’s team is quick to wipe any evidence of said crimes
you’re pretty sure that at this point, he might be hiding a body somewhere in his house
you wouldn’t be surprised. man once set his enemy’s mansion on fire
to make things worse, he got away with it- even when he was the only one grinning and playing with a lighter on his way out
while the others scrambled like mice, he sauntered in style
he gets away with anything
you reputation at the station is already in shambles because of it
they call you his shadow at this point, considering how you are always following him
the truth is, you just want to wipe the shitty grin off his face for once
you want him to suffer defeat when you finally put him behind bars
you want him to chase after you like you chase after him
you might come off as delusional, but you’re half convinced that whatever wooyoung does is on purpose at this point- to get your attention
it wasn’t always like this, you and wooyoung
it started with a simple fight that broke out at a party where all the high-profile people were
someone was stupid enough to call the police- but you were more stupid because you went ahead and handcuffed wooyoung
you told him that you couldn’t waste this opportunity because you were investigating another case related to his father’s company anyway
and he? he laughed out loud like a maniac
you soon learned why, going home with the sound of your superiors scolding you still ringing in your ears
here you are, a few years and a lot of chasing each other later
except… you get something out of the chasing now
all he has to do is corner you. all he has to do is rile you up as he tells you why you lost this game yet again
with his burning gaze and honey voice, he pins you to the spot
with his fingers tracing the curves of your face, he tells you how much he loves you chasing after him
as if he’s all that you ever think about. he might be right
“don’t you think we’re meant for each other?” wooyoung questions almost innocently, licking his lips subconsciously as he trails his finger down the curve of your neck until he reaches the first button of your shirt
“don’t think too highly of yourself, wooyoung,” you respond, your chest rising and falling in controlled breaths
you can not let him know the effect he has on you
however, wooyoung doesn’t need any sort of confirmation
you can try to keep your gaze steel all you want. you can attempt to sound sure and fake indifference, but the fact is that wooyoung knows
all he has to do is take another step forward and fill the gap between you two
his warm breath caresses your face and you gulp despite yourself
he watches you intently and squeezes your neck just a bit, causing you to part your lips for air and then he brushes the tip of his nose against yours
his other hand is slowly but surely unbuckling the belt of your pants and taking it off
you can only thank god in an ashamed relief that you’re in a private space- the space being one of the empty rooms in a random building on a random street because you had been tailing wooyoung
(at least the door is locked)
wooyoung brushes his lips against yours as your pants fall on the ground and pool on your feet
the sound that makes has heat rushing to your face- this should not be happening
you are a fucking detective and wooyoung is your target
but you can’t complain when his fingertips dance along your hip bones
all he has to do is swipe his fingers up your panties
upon finding them soaked (as usual), he smirks and you smack his chest
he catches your fist in his hand, though
“all for me?” he asks
in a matter of seconds, your lips are upon each other, tongues in each other’s mouth as you wrap your legs around him
he picks you up effortlessly and places you on a very dusty table
he gets rid of his clothes all the while kissing you expertly, aiming to please you, dominate you
he sucks on your lips, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on
and when he finally takes off all your garments, he has more places he can get his mouth on
“admit it, detective,” he breathes against your clit. “you’re obsessed with me.”
“get to work before i cuff you and fuck your brains out, wooyoung.”
wooyoung’s laugh echoes in the room as he recalls that night- a night he is sure he can never forget
“does that mean i get to experience that again if i stop now?”
you are moments away from your high- how dare he ask if he can stop?
he gets the hint and gets to work, and he makes sure he does a good job, licking and sucking at your clit until you’re screaming
for bonus points, he dives his cock inside right after and stays still as he starts to kiss you eagerly
this time, you’re the one who loses to him and lets him take control
you let him thrust into you. you let him praise you and humiliate you to no end
truth be told, you’re addicted to him. there is no going back from here
wooyoung knows how to use his tongue and he whispers sweet nothings
he is also surprisingly good at aftercare, even though you don’t accept it from him
well, you try not to, but he is insistent
he takes you home and he invites himself in
you go to the shower and he goes to your room to admire the effort you put into bringing him down
loads of files and a board full of his ‘accomplishments’ staring back at him- nothing he doesn’t know
“you think your daddy will help you if i start to investigate the slush fund you have?”
“which one?” is his response, and he grins widely as you gape at him
he can practically see the gears in your head turning and he adores that
it is a cat and mouse game after all. he must give you something so you keep coming after him
(and you must give him something so he keeps finding you too)
while you’re still processing what he just implied, your phone rings
you flinch when you pick it up, getting an earful from your team leader once again, because where were you?
you were supposed to tail wooyoung to confirm that he is meeting up with a notorious gang member who does his dirty work
the case you’re team is on these days is targeting the gang, and yet again… wooyoung is involved
so what the hell were you doing, your superior asks
“jung wooyoung did not meet up with the gang leader,” you say into the phone, your eyes fixed on wooyoung
wooyoung has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face
“and how do you know that? i thought you lost the tail-”
“yes, i did lose the tail,” you bite your lips in thought- you can’t tell your team leader that wooyoung has a strong alibi this time-
but wooyoung goes ahead and snatches your phone from you
“detective lee,” wooyoung greets and you mutter a string of curses under your breath
you watch wooyoung charm his way through the matter
telling the detective that he was in a tight spot because of the gang they are investigating
and how it is a shame that a ‘civilised’ person such as himself is being linked to thugs
he tells him that he almost got attacked but you saved him, and you hid him in an abandoned building, being wise enough not to blow your cover
you can’t tell how he does it, but by the end of the call, your team leader is fully convinced that you did a good job today and he even praises you when you take the phone back
when you end the call, you glare at wooyoung
“what?” he shrugs. “i needed an alibi.”
“is that why you took me to the building to fuck me? because you needed an alibi?”
wooyoung watches you with mild curiosity
“did you think it meant something else?” he asks
it would have hurt if he really meant it, but that’s the thing
you both know he doesn’t mean what he says, especially about whatever is going on between you two
he has risked his position and even his life far too many times just to get you alone and fuck you
so you only smile and shake your head in response before telling him to fuck off and get out of your sight
(and he does. not before a second round)
when he leaves, you watch his car disappear from the window before going to the board and updating everything you got out of him tonight
everything about his business and his crimes. everything to make your case on him stronger
it’s truly a wonder how much you can get out of fucking someone right and you’re positive you can see the end of this case now
though… you’re not sure if you will ever take this to court. but that’s something you’ll worry about later
for now, you will follow him like a cat follows a mouse
and he will chase after you like a cat chases after a mouse
The Maniac and his Shadow
Jongho
The Tyrant
it is always a little too cold in the building for your liking
the building that is choi enterprises, located at the heart of the city, standing tall with numerous floors, laden in luxury
it is a workplace and home to some of the people in this city and a symbol of something untouchable to the others
as you enter the building, accompanied by your secretaries and a guard, you instantly feel the temperature drop despite the warm tones of the interior
the employees that greet you may have smiles on their faces but it’s all an act. you can tell, because you know what a genuine smile looks like
choi enterprises somehow always manages to keep the most calculating people to themselves. it might be why the company has flourished so much in such a short period of time
“to the private elevators, miss,” a man says and you recognise him as one of the ceo’s personal staff
you follow him and tug your jacket closer, wishing you had worn it instead of draping it over your shoulders
you catch your reflection on the golden glossy door of the elevator and straighten, lifting your chin up
you will not be pushed into submission, you repeat for the umpteenth time
however, things are not in your favour this time
in this never ending game of business rivalry, you and choi jongho have never seen eye to eye. you always stand in opposition, defensive or offensive
sometimes, you manage to outsmart him while making a new business deal or scoring a new project. other times, he is a few steps ahead and wins the game
except when you lose, somehow, the loss is much greater and a bit personal
your company always suffers more when you lose, which is why this little meeting you are going to have with jongho is no less than a negotiation- a war, if you must
sometimes, you wonder if jongho has a personal grudge against you. these meaningless battles start to seem like an excuse to see you
if not, then why is jongho looking like he just won the lottery at the sight of you?
“as beautiful as ever,” he says, scanning your figure slowly
you don’t move an inch, pretending those words don’t affect you
the secretaries move to another room, leaving you and jongho alone
jongho gets up from his chair and moves to the middle of the room, motioning you to take a seat
you watch as he pours a drink for you, his muscles flexing through the coat he’s wearing
you take the drink- you need something to calm your nerves
“i suppose the odds are not in your favour, considering you found your way back here”
an allusion to the time he said that you were meant to find your way back here again and again, that you were just a lost kitten and he was your master, controlling you
at that time, you thought he meant to spite you, but time after time, he proved himself right
you always find your way here, always as the opposition. this time, though… you won’t bend
“if the odds are in your favour,” you begin experimentally, downing the drink in one gulp and then pouring one for jongho. “would you like me to join hands with you?”
now this is new- jongho’s eyes slightly widen at your remark
“ah… how the tables have turned,” jongho started to chuckle lowly
you let him be for a moment, scoffing internally
jongho had earned the right title over the years since he stepped up as ceo of his father’s company
a monster of capitalism
known to be the owner of many questionable businesses, borderline illegal, evading taxes and having slush funds unashamedly, heavily involved in money laundering- the list goes on and on
a true financial villain- a true monster, yet… being able to get away with everything, unscathed. that’s who jongho is
he has bribed every soul who would dare go against him. and those who do not take the bribe? he makes sure they kneel
and you… you’re pretty close to being his next target- he did say you would look pretty on your knees for him
“is business not going well?” he asks, faking innocence. he knows
you are a rival company- seo enterprises. everything that jongho’s company is, but… more legal
your forefathers were once partners, and they created their independent companies without a hint of rivalry
they were the definition of true brothers (and partners in crime)
the difference between the values of your company came when you and jongho stepped up as ceo
you had made it your life’s mission for your company to earn a good reputation and moral image, while jongho seemed to have made it his life’s mission to simply conquer the world, no matter what or who the stepping stone is
“business is well,” you narrow your eyes at him. “it’s about the land in ilsan.”
jongho doesn’t seem surprised to hear that. it is always like this- he knows what moves you will make
“ah, the one where we are about to construct a gallery?” jongho asks
“we?” you repeat. “that land is a shared property. why have you not consulted us before going ahead and signing the documents? how could you begin this project without us-”
“the other option is selling it to the government because of the redevelopment project,” jongho leans forward, “and you know how much i despise the government getting their grubby hands on what’s mine”
you know he is right, and he knows that you are not here to argue about why he started this project without telling you
jongho relaxes back, considering all his options before deciding to strike. “you’re worried about your involvement in that project, is that right?”
“well,” you mirror his position, “i would like to keep my reputation clean unlike yours.”
he chuckles at that, proud of his deeds. “yeah, well, that’s going to be hard, sweetheart. that gallery is going to be an optimum location for storing money.”
you know what he means. the gallery is going to display priceless pieces of arts. those pieces are but a means of illegal transactions for the elites
you swallow your anger, taking a deep breath. “i’d like to have my shares back, then. before construction starts.”
“uh…” jongho gets up, fixing his clothes. “you’re going to have to convince me for that.”
“please,” you scoff, but he only shakes his head, ignoring that because he knows this ‘please’ was wholly sarcastic
“try harder,” he smiles mockingly before turning his back to you and moving to the window, putting his hands in the pockets of his pants and staring down at the city
a tyrant- that’s who he is
he expects to get the maximum output out of anything he set his eyes on, no matter the cost- money or lives
you join him by the window, pointing at a few spots. “that’s where people held protests against your company last week,” you tell him. “apparently, you have been exploiting labourers too.”
“that’s what they think,” he spits. “i gave them more than they deserve. they just never learn to accept. they never get pleased.”
you look at jongho- he sounds like he is saying the truth. he has the art of sounding like a victim at times, thus justifying his actions
“doesn’t all that venom in your heart make you dizzy?”
jongho glances at you, his lips threatening to curl into a smile at your words
“doesn’t it get tiring, pretending to be moral?” jongho asks, trying to read your guarded eyes
“there’s no pretending. i never claimed that i was full of morals, mr. choi,” you sigh. “i just wish for my business to have a legal foundation.”
“and it will, you don’t have to worry,” he responds, curling a section of your hair that had been resting on your shoulder in his fingers
you don’t flinch at his touch. you’ve known him since the beginning, and nothing he does fazes you anymore- except when he leans closer experimentally, locking eyes with you and trying to read you
“you will get your shares, but you will have to convince me,” he says, voice barely above a whisper
it is a challenge. it is always a challenge with choi jongho
“why are you so obsessed with me?” you laugh this time, swatting his hand away
he joins, and everything almost seems normal for a moment- just two friends with too many inside jokes, except… it only lasts for a moment
“how can i convince you?” you ask, sombre
“you know what i want from you, y/n,” he replies in a similar tone
he wants a true partnership, except his idea of a partnership is where you bend to his will (and so is yours)
“don’t turn this into a legal battle, jongho,” you warn, “i would hate to summon you to court.”
“don’t turn this into a petty rivalry,” he counters, “you will benefit from this project. you reputation won’t be harmed.”
“i don’t want my name next to yours,” you tell him in all honesty and you think you see hurt flash in his eyes
“that is not possible,” jongho declares. “our companies are not mentioned without each other. we are fated like that, you and i.”
that is true. no one dares to touch the two of you, so you two have always been alone
there is no one you both can trust. there is no one next to you
except the two of you are always together, wherever you go, be it business parties, political dinners, or high-profile events
you can only trust each other, because despite knowing everything about each other’s business, despite being at war with each other
you are always honest with each other- honest about your intentions and purpose
there is no one next to you because you two are always together, leaving no space for someone else
do you hate that? not really. does he hate that? he’s not sure
“you can buy my shares from me,” you start, “or you can shift them elsewhere. i can handle whatever loss comes with that.”
“or… you can let it be and use the revenue for something ‘moral’,” he taunts and silence envelopes the room
“no matter how much you try to maintain a clean image,” he starts, gentler this time, “you cannot undo the damage your forefathers have done to your company, y/n. seo enterprises will always be known as the company that exploited the weak to get to the top.”
you don’t wince at that, though your heart aches to hear that
“just like your company. except you are continuing in their footsteps,” you say
jongho nods, watching how your shoulders are curling inwards
“you are not weak, y/n, stand straight,” he almost scolds, taking you by surprise
you find yourself straightening at his words, confused to see how conflicted he looks
“you are the strongest person i know,” he tells you, and he means it. “i just don’t get why you are atoning for their sins.”
“i don’t know either,” you smile in defeat. “i just am.”
“well, if you ever get tired,” he gently places his hands over your shoulders, “i am here for you. you can lean on me.”
you lock eyes with him, scanning his face. his smile seems genuine
the way he kisses your forehead makes your heart melt
when he embraces you, you lean on him physically
and you almost give in, except…
“i can lean on you, huh?” you say, soaking in the warmth of his body, taking as much as you can before you continue
“so you can end my career, merge our companies and crown yourself king?”
you look up at him, finding him smirking
just like you thought
“not a chance, choi jongho.”
“how can you see right through me every time, y/n?” he laughs loudly as you smack his chest and move towards the sofa to grab your purse
“i’m the only person who knows who you are,” you tell him. “you can own the world, but you will never own me.”
his eyes glint almost dangerously
“challenge accepted,” he says
you mockingly wave goodbye before exiting the room
choi jongho never changes, and neither do you
but somehow… it gets more addicting and electrifying to be with him, to compete with him and to stand with him
even though he is a tyrant, and you are everything that he is not
The Tyrant and His Defiant Ally
#just a fun little sth#ateez as villains#ateez x reader#ateez reactions#ateez headcanons#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez angst#ateez smut#ateez au#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#ateez#yunho x reader#yeosang x reader#san x reader#mingi x reader#wooyoung x reader#jongho x reader#hongjoong smut#seonghwa smut#wooyoung smut
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Unwanted Masterlist
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn't be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust. Completed.
If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3
Warnings: 18+ Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here.
"*" indicates explicit sexual content (each chapter will feature its own warnings as needed), language, alcohol/drug use, drunk!Bucky, drunk!/high!Reader, pick-me!oc, angst, mentions of CSA, angst, emotional affair, angst, physical infidelity (dependent on your pov), canon-level violence, emotional trauma, did I mention angst?, some fluffy moments, destructive behavior, injury, medical conditions, poorly translated Russian, unprotected anonymous sex, murder, minor oc character death, mentions of SA and torture, underage drug use, mentions of sex trafficking, mention of child injury.
More will be added as the story progresses, and some chapters will have specific warnings that I will keep under wraps to avoid spoilers. When we get to those sections, I will let you know, so if there is a specific trigger that you absolutely cannot handle, let me know and I will tell you if the section is safe. As always, please let me know if I miss any warnings.
Word Count: 155.2k
A/N: And here I present unto you, my beloved, the fruit of my labors these many past moons. Seven months in the making. My magnum opus.
Tumblr says this post has too many links, so for Chapters 27, 28, 29, and 30 (the epilogue), please use the navigation links in the first part of each chapter.
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917
Part 1 (Posted 3/6/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/6/24) Part 3 (Posted 3/6/24) Part 4 (Posted 3/6/24)
Part 1 (Posted 3/8/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/8/24) Part 3 (Posted 3/9/24) Part 4 (Posted 3/9/24) Part 5 (Posted 3/9/24)
Part 1 (Posted 3/10/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/10/24) Part 3* (Posted 3/10/24)
Part 1* (Posted 3/11/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/12/24) Part 3* (Posted 3/13/24)
Part 1 (Posted 3/15/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/15/24)
Part 1 (Posted 3/16/24)
Part 1 (Posted 3/17/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/17/24)
Part 1 (Posted 3/18/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/19/24) Part 3* (Posted 3/19/24)
Part 1 (Posted 3/21/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/22/24) Part 3 (Posted 3/23/24)
Part 1 (Posted 3/24/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/26/24) Part 3 (Posted 3/26/24)
Part 1 (Posted 3/27/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/28/24)
Part 1 (Posted 3/29/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/30/24) Part 3 (Posted 3/31/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/01/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/02/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/03/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/04/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/04/24) Part 5 (Posted 4/05/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/6/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/7/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/7/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/8/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/8/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/9/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/9/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/10/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/10/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/11/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/11/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/11/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/12/24) Part 5 (Posted 4/12/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/12/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/13/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/13/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/13/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/13/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/14/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/14/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/14/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/15/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/15/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/15/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/15/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/16/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/17/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/17/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/18/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/19/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/19/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/19/24) Part 5* (Posted 4/20/24) Part 6 (Posted 4/20/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/20/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/21/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/21/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/21/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/22/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/22/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/22/24)
Part 1 (Posted 2/23/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/23/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/23/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/23/24) Part 5 (Posted 4/23/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/24/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/24/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/24/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/24/24) Part 5 (Posted 4/24/24) Part 6 (Posted 4/24/24) Part 7 (Posted 4/24/24) Part 8 (Posted 4/24/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/25/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/25/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/25/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/26/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/26/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/26/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/26/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/27/24) Part 2* (Posted 4/27/24)
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
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"Pieces Of Paper We Hold" (HuskerDust) is live on AO3!
hey hazbin fandom!! you might want to check out my complex and multi-layered fic for these two losers!! it explores the nuances of morality, sin, and redemption, as well as cool kink and some light BDSM between the ultimate otp.
read "Pieces Of Paper We Hold", a Hazbin Hotel post-season 1 HuskerDust fanfiction here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53795893/chapters/136163467.
before you proceed, find all trigger warnings, as well as the rep, below the cut.
featured below is commissioned art by @mothmanadjacent (MothMommyy on Twitter)!
"PIECES OF PAPER WE HOLD" WILL BE AVAILABLE AS A LIMITED PAPERBACK SOON!
THE BOOK, AND SOME MERCH, WILL BE SOLD IN A CHARITY SALE FOR A LIMITED TIME
100% of the profit will go to a non-profit that helps SA survivors and victims of human trafficking. The sale will be handled by myself, and I will be keeping and providing receipts of ALL donations going to the right place.
You can find all the information about the charity sale here:
If you're interested, please fill out the interest form HERE.
TRIGGER WARNING LIST
Addiction
Alcoholism, alcohol abuse, drinking
Anxiety attacks
BDSM**
Emotional abuse*
Explicit sexual content**
Intimate partner violence*
Gambling
Gaslighting*
Gun violence
Loss of a child
Non-con sex as a punishment*
Physical violence
Post-traumatic stress disorder
Survivor's guilt
Swearing
Withdrawal from drugs
* = Challenged, not between the MCs (Angel and Husk)
** = Explicit scenes are cis-MLM, and they are clearly signalled with dividers so that readers who might be uncomfortable reading them may skip them
REPRESENTATION & DIVERSITY
Ethnicities and race
Black character with vitiligo
Body diversity
Fat character
Developmental disabilities
ADHD - Attention Deficit and Hyperactivity Disorder
Cri du chat syndrome
Dyslexia
Intellectual disability
Gender diversity
Non-binary characters
Sexual diversity
BDSM and kink positivity
Bisexuality
Bondage/shibari
Gay male MC
Pansexual male MC
Sex work positivity
#gee's archive#hazbin hotel#angel dust#huskerdust#hazbin hotel husk#angel dust x husk#fanfic#fanfiction#my writing#not my art
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not our scene | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,, - part 2
summary - an undercover mission causes realisations that otherwise would be squashed in denial
genre - fem!shy!reader x spencer, forced/wanted proximity, fake relationship -> real relationship, awkward idiots, fluff
warnings - awkwardness, mentions of trafficking and manipulation, realisations of love
w/c - 1.9k
a/n - second part!!! sorry for the cliffhanger that’s my favourite thing to do NOBODY COME AT ME. maybe third part/epilogue?? who knows. love y’all
The instrumental music that poured from the live band on the elevated stage came to a close, you and Spencer hovering on the opposite side of the expansive floors, discreetly keeping an eye on two large kitchen doors. The room erupted in applause, which you joined into, for the band, the man you assumed to be the main musician stood and bent at the hips with a sly smile - he knew he was good. The room quieted down to a small chatter from the abundance of people that filled the room. Women with large hats, velvet gloves, and bright lips cornered tall men in grey suits (or the other way around) and laughed like they’d known each other for many years. Men with peppering beards whispered to each other before letting out howls and pointing towards women who were not their wives. The wives stood silent.
Spencer cleared his throat, breaking you out of your trance, “He’s been in there for around 10 minutes now. I’m gonna call it in, in case they’ve already got the tracker on him.” You nodded with a tight lipped smile, still recovering from the rollercoaster of emotions that dancing with Spencer had put you through. He glanced at you once more before holding down a button on his cuff and speaking out loud. You nodded along, in case anyone was watching - and also as a kind of self-soothing motion.
You didn’t drink - well, not often. So when a different waiter came up to you both every 10 minutes asking if you’d like a variety of alcohol, you had to kindly decline each time. And each time you became more irritated. People laughed loudly, people danced in quick blurs, people came up to you both and stared at your dress for a little too long. Thankfully, Spencer took your hand (you’re still in love after all) and nodded with a smile that almost made you forget you were on a mission.
The two of you escaped onto a balcony with a cold breeze accompanying the faster music that both of you wanted to avoid. Your night was already over, just as it started. One dance. You scolded yourself for wanting more, a longer night, for Webley to continue manipulating people. But you’ve done your job, you’ve completed your mission, and now you have to go home and act like all of it never happened.
“Great job, the officers have been notified and we’ve got a tracker on him now. You two can leave whenever-“
“I think we’ll stay for a bit.” Spencer spoke up, and it shocked you. It must’ve shocked Morgan too as the line went dead quiet. “Right, Y/n?” He gulped and eyed you with pleads. His tie was slightly askew, the wind flapping his jacket lightly, his eyes reflecting the stars that now hung high in the sky.
“Y-yeah. This party’s actually…” You looked over the over-crowded floor, to your red and sore feet, to the bad alcohol standing on the waiter's trays. But then you looked over to Spencer. His eyes, his hair, his small smile, his red tie. “The party’s actually not that bad.” You say with a smile.
“Okay… don’t stay for too long. We don’t want everyone to be hung over for a flight home tomorrow.”
The balcony was made of white concrete pillars and marble floors, sconces of warm lights and vines of ivy that wrapped around the pillars and balcony like waves of seaweed. It was beautiful, just like the rest of the establishment, it was unfortunate its main use was to take advantage of innocent people. But you weren’t out there to think about that - at least that’s what you assumed. Spencer wouldn’t want to stay to talk about trafficking or crimes surely.
In that moment, even after watching his small smile of excitement that you agreed to stay with him, all you wanted to do was kick off your shoes and take a goddamn breath.
You walked over to the parapet of the balcony and was glad to see the top was a flat slab of concrete, just wide enough for you to pull yourself up and sit down.
You sighed in relief, taking off your heels and letting them fall onto the shiny marble.
Spencer followed your movements, standing next to you and looking out onto the view. City lights and stars blended in with each other from this angle.
“Are you okay?” He asked gently. You smile, “That’s the third time you’ve asked me tonight. Do I look troubled?” He stood for a moment before turning his head towards you, his hair sweeping across his eyebrows in the breeze. “You look like you’d rather be anywhere else.” “Was it really that obvious?” “To me, yes… I think that if I didn’t pretend to enjoy tonight people would’ve been suspicious of us.” You frown slightly, “You didn’t enjoy the night?” “I didn’t enjoy the reason, nor the location. I enjoyed the people though.” He sends you a smile that makes your heart flutter and your cheeks redden. You hope he doesn’t see it in the dim lighting.
Inside, the dance finishes and people clap, and you do too. Spencer glances at your hands and smirks slightly. “You don’t think they’re suspicious now? We danced once, and now we’re out here watching them like weirdos.”
Spencer turned to lean on the balcony and look into the ballroom, shrugging. “We’re two young people in love,” he turned to look at you, eyes warm and deep, “alone time is what we need.”
You bit the inside of your lip and stared at Spencer. His suit, his matching (skewed) tie, his hair and his eyes. He did the same to you, before gulping and looking down at the floor. He bent and picked up your shoes, turning them in his hands and observing. “These are too small for you.” You laugh at the obvious fact, “They’re JJ’s. She’s got the tiniest feet I’ve ever seen.” “You’re only one size above her.” “She wears high heels much more often than I do.” “You swap between sneakers and converse. You’ve only bought new shoes two times since I’ve known you. This is the second time I’ve seen you wear heels, and even then they were practically ballet shoes.” He smiled to himself like it was an inside joke. “Oh…” You looked down at your feet and realised he was exactly right, “I’m surprised you’re not wearing your black converse right now.” “Morgan didn’t let me. He said he was pressured to make me look good by all the girls.” He lifted a finger and turned fully towards you, “Did you know that sleeve buttons on suits were created to help doctors who worked in the war keep their sleeves up? Now, they’re a sign of intelligence and wealth. Also, a few weeks ago, you called me a grabologist because of my collection of ties, but did you know that the largest collection of suit ties is owned by a New Zealander woman called Irene Sparks. Now, I think I’d like to oppose that not with my own collection, but with Morgans.”
You smile at the memories of the girls dressing you up, fueling the sisterhood that the childhood version of you missed out on. You thought about Morgan, Hotch and maybe Rossi, and how they were probably dressing him up as well. It was truly a found family, something that you felt you belonged to. They knew your habits, they knew when you were lying, they knew a good portion of your past. And you knew all the same for the rest of them. But Spencer?
Mentally, without realising, you had been creating essays for him since the day you met him. You made journal entries for everyone else, but for Spencer it was books on books of mental notes and facts and aspects of him and his life that you kept in the back of your mind, ready at any point to bring out and use. Why he wears mismatched socks, why he likes purple, why he can’t handle too many people talking at once, why he feels uncomfortable at hospitals, why he hasn’t contacted his father in years. And he knew no doubt even more about you. He had a talent for knowing your emotions and feelings like no one else could, and it made your heart palpitate every time he did it.
“I mean, you’ve seen my collection of ties but jeez, you’d think a guy who mainly wears t-shirts would keep his collection small. You’d like one of his, it's a green that matches that bedside table you painted once. Like those socks you got me last Christmas. But anyways, he somehow had a perfect red to match your… dress. Which by the way, I noticed a lot of people looking at you - and I don’t blame them. I think you look, um, I think you look incredible.” His rambling quietened down for a moment as he tried to avoid eye-contact with you, before he cleared his throat and continued on with his rambling (which mixed with compliments every second sentence).
And suddenly, you realised this was all an excuse. You were in denial, so badly, that you thought of him as a subject of your devotion without stepping back and seeing the real picture.
“Spencer…” You cut him off and he looked up with big eyes, surprised you spoke up. You were the only person that let him ramble, it may have been the only time you stopped him. “Wh- You wanna go home?” He saw your eyes, you looked in pain, in shock, in… “No, Spencer, I… Um.” You pressed your lips together and looked down - were you really going to say this? Were you really going to admit you loved the man in front of you without any evidence that he felt the same way? He was your coworker, your best friend. Everything could be ruined in just a few words. Suddenly, you wanted to take your train of thoughts back, to let him continue on with his rambling - it always calmed you down anyways.
Suddenly, his palm was held out in front of you with a small mint in the middle. You looked up at him and his worried but genuine smile. “Here,” he said softly. You took the mint in your hand and simply stared at it. To be loved, is to be known. “Um, Spencer. I…” His eyes were wanting, curious, they were so goddamn beautiful, “I… I love you.”
His mouth gaped slightly and his cheeks reddened. Spencer gulped and fiddled with his fingers before chuckling nervously, “I was supposed to say it first.” “What?” “I was supposed to say I love you first.” You hopped down from the concrete railing, dress falling to cover your shins again. “I can take it back if you want.” You responded quickly. “No, no don’t take it back, even if you did I don’t think I could mentally accept that you had taken it back.” You covered your mouth with your hand and looked up at him in shock, “So you-” “I love you, too.” He nodded and took your hands from your mouth, holding them in his, “I have since the third week you’ve worked with the BAU.”
“Oh, that’s great um…” You looked down at your intertwined hands and furrowed your eyebrows, “What do we do now?” “We could go to the McDonalds that’s a 10 minutes walk away or, I could kiss you.” He stared into your glistening eyes and wanted to pinch himself to see if this was actually happening. “I don’t-”
“You don’t like McDonalds, sorry, my brain is-”
“Just kiss me.” You replied exasperated.
“Okay.” He nodded and placed his hands on your waist.
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