#also i mentioned it in the tags of the original but just to cover my bases

[mintharasstayathomewife]

enigma | spencer reid fanfiction

part 01. - tuesday

ꕥ pair: Spencer Reid × BAU!fem!reader ꕥ warnings/tags: canon-typical violence, mentions of human trafficking, swearing, somewhat oblivious Reid and reader, age gap, moderately jealous Spencer, slow-burn, mutual pining, rivals to lovers, english isn't my first language so bear with me pls, idk about other warnings ꕥ word count: ~4k ꕥ summary: Spencer can't quite figure you, his rival out and this annoys him more than it should [this fanfic is also available on AO3 with the same title]

The violin's iconic, somewhat sharp sound sent shivers down your spine as the small, elegant live band started to perform one of their original songs. The tunes had a vintage, old-money vibe, which matched the deep, honey-like voice of the singer. In some way, their performance reminded you of Lana del Rey, even though the lyrics had no resemblance to the woman’s work.

The upper part of your elegant black dress hugged your body perfectly, while the skirt flowed gracefully around your legs. You dressed moderately so that you could be wired, but you still managed to fit into the fundraising gala you attended, mostly because Penelope did wonders with your makeup and hair. You seemed rich and smart. Like a calculated businesswoman, someone who knew exactly how to play their cards right. The only drawback was that if things came down to a chase, running in a long dress could cause trouble. And no, the high heels weren’t a problem, like at all. You couldn’t even count how many times you had to catch assholes in bars while wearing impossible shoes and sometimes also being tipsy, but you were always quick and efficient.

“See anything suspicious, babygirl?” came Derek’s voice from your earpiece which was disguised as an earring.

“All I see is suspicious” you murmured while raising the glass of champagne to your mouth as if you were drinking, to subtly cover your moving lips. “I cannot even count how many illegal deals were made under the table in this last hour.”

“Focus. Someone here has the exact time and coordinates of the next auction. If we lose that, we lose countless victims who are being trafficked” joined into the conversation your boss, the always collected and stoic Aaron Hotchner. You caught a glimpse of his figure from across the fancy, dimly lit ballroom. He was dressed elegantly, which wasn’t so different from his usual attire.

You carefully walked around, making your moves as elegant as possible. As if you were flowing amongst the crowd. You listened into conversations, trying to catch anything that’d indicate that the speaker had the information you needed. You and Aaron went undercover as attendees, mingling with the various guests who all had unimaginable net worth and power. It was intimidating but you tried not to think about it, afraid you’d blow your cover. The rest of the team was stationed near the entrances and exits. If the person who knew where the next auction was going to be held sensed that you were onto them and they’d try to slip away, the others could catch them outside.

“Try not to get distracted by the smooth-talking” you heard Reid’s almost condescending voice from your earpiece which made you tempted to take it off.

“On the very safe assumption that this was meant for me and not Hotch, fuck you.”

“Just saying” Reid laughed at the other end of the line but didn’t say more. If the case wasn’t as intense as it sadly was, he would’ve continued bickering. It would’ve been pointless trying to deny how much he enjoyed arguing with you, picking small fights, and being on your nerves, just as much as you were constantly dancing on his.

Ever since you joined the BAU almost a year ago now, you were the source of Dr Spencer Reid’s dilemmas. Solving problems, puzzles, solving everything was Reid’s thing. But even after nearly a year working together, he still couldn’t figure you out, which bothered him more than anything.

You walked into the BAU’s bullpen with a soft smile on your face, wearing black straight jeans and a lavender-coloured button-up shirt. The team knew about a newbie joining them, but they didn’t look up anything about you. The unintentional crossing of personal boundaries was a constant problem amongst them, they didn’t want to voluntarily ruin things by basically stalking you. So, you walked in with a shy smile on your face. Everyone was waiting but they didn’t want to make things awkward. Emily was the first one who walked up to you, whom you greeted with a genuine, warm smile. JJ should’ve walked you through the building while letting you know the basics and then introduce you to the team, but she was caught up at the bank, being late for the first time. That’s why you were more anxious than usual.

So, the first meeting was even more awkward than you’d previously anticipated. But the small group of unordinary individuals were welcoming. Derek cracked some jokes almost immediately, making you laugh and even fire back something quick-witted, starting the process of getting to know each other a bit more light-heartedly.

You quickly became a soft spot for everyone. You were kind, attentive and funny. You tried to memorize every small, personal detail about the others and later do things as they preferred. For example, once you caught Emily saying that for some reason, she always had a stomach-ache from cinnamon and since then, you always made sure that whenever you brought some snacks or cookies for the team, Emily never had any of that spice in it. You also noticed how Penelope obsessed over anything colourful and over the top – it would’ve been harder not to notice, to be honest, so every now and then you surprised her with small things like silly stickers or tiny figures to decorate her tech wizard cave.

It was so easy to have a conversation with you. You could talk for hours about literally anything, whether it was serious or something fun. You matched everyone’s vibe, fitting into the BAU family perfectly.

And now onto Spencer Reid. He first saw you as a rival. To begin with, you replaced him as the youngest, by far. And of course, the unofficial title of being the youngest of the BAU meant nothing, came with no benefits and didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be salty due to such a silly thing. He was way above that. Except that he wasn’t. He didn’t handle change that well, and the youngest title being ripped away from him, even if it was such a trivial matter, annoyed him.

It also turned out very quickly that you were intelligent as hell. Of course, dumb people can’t make it to the FBI. But above being intelligent and very well-read, you pointed out his flaws more than he liked. Obviously, you weren’t smarter than him. He had an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, countless PhDs and BAs, years of experience and an overall thirst for knowledge, so it would’ve been impossible for almost anyone to outsmart the doctor. But he was also human. Sometimes, he made mistakes. Sometimes, his calculations were wronged by the unpredictable nature of humans. Of course, as a profiler, his field of expertise was human behaviour, but this field meant one of the highest chances of error, especially at the beginning of new cases, where a huge part of the profile was educated guesswork.

Many times, you were the one who found the possible mistakes in his calculations and theories, and you were the one who came up with the solution that helped the most in the end. However, even though you were intelligent and sharp, your mind, and due to that your way of thinking was rather chaotic. It seemed as if you were jumping to conclusions without a proper explanation which oftentimes sounded illogical at first, causing some arguments between the two of you. But you were smart. You were able to challenge him in a way very few people could. Your subtle rivalry gave him a feeling of rush, some adrenalin and a healthy kind of excitement. So, even if Spencer would’ve never admitted it, he enjoyed the louder arguments too.

On top of that, Spencer also didn’t fail to notice how you were considerate towards him too, even after some fights. You couldn’t be called friends either. You were co-workers with a continuous but tamed rivalry - while also joking around sometimes -, at best. Still, if you were making coffee in the breakroom, you usually brew a cup for Reid too, despite he rarely asked for it. You simply memorized the times of the day when he usually had his caffeine intake and if you were drinking at that same time too, you also gave a cup to him just the way he liked. Also, you were very mindful of physical contact. If you handed him anything, you made sure that your fingers weren’t touching.

Spencer liked this. He was so used to being the one who was willing to read the others around him and adjust, that the feeling of him being read and actively kept in mind felt very weird in a good way. Of course, he knew if he asked literally anyone in the team to do something differently or avoid doing something, if possible, everyone would comply without any problems. But he would’ve had to ask them. Not with you though. And that’s what he really appreciated.

And if all of this wasn’t enough for a confusing relationship between workmates, there was the problem of him, not being able to "decode" you entirely. You were chatty, very kind and open to literally anyone. You were helpful, patient and so on. You talked a lot. But what bothered Spencer is that even though you were always talking, you never said anything about yourself. The team didn’t even realize that they knew nothing about you. About the real you. You were so good at being the hyperactive, talkative sunshine of the group that it slipped past them how you carefully kept any kind of personal detail a secret. Or if they noticed it, they let it slide. Dancing around the topic of privacy amongst them was hard enough already. No one wanted to overstep.

But Reid was intrigued. He wanted to know more about the person who was able to so confidently push his buttons almost every day. He tried to ask some more specific questions, but you effortlessly managed to answer them without saying anything personal and still sounding natural. Sometimes he didn’t even notice that he was getting nowhere, only after the conversation was over.

To sum it up, you were an enigma. As his rival, you gave him excitement with each argument. As the team’s newest sweet girl, you tried your best to make everyone happy around you while completely shutting everybody out, without them noticing. The ball of sunshine who many times didn’t even flinch at the violence that surrounded them every day. For some reason, he couldn’t easily dissect your personality into a thousand different pieces and find a reason behind everything you do, as he usually does with others, and this annoyed him a lot.

“Y/N, I think I have something” murmured your boss into your ears through the earpiece, making you look for him in the crowd. You quickly caught a glimpse of his determined figure as he approached some men near the bougie marble fireplace.

“Should I join in?” you asked.

“Not yet. We have no exact profile of anyone who’s an attendant at the auctions. I’ll see how they react to me first.”

“All right, I’ll be close,” you said as you blended into the crowd nearby. You could only hear parts of the conversation the suspects were having since you had to engage in small talk and courtesy with others, so you wouldn’t stand out from the elite guests.

“…my wife will be here soon. She just went to get some champagne for me...” it was safe to say that this was your sign. Yes, calling you his wife was a bit unexpected, but not an entirely impossible scenario. When you were going through some phrases to use or not to use, how to be polite while remaining elegant, because politeness can easily be misjudged as being humble and weaker, Hotchner and you being married was also a highly optional outcome. This gala was so low-risk, filled with powerful and important people, that even those who were cheating with one or multiple other people, didn’t dare to bring their sidepieces. Those who had come with partners all came with their spouses. So, you grabbed another glass of champagne for your boss and walked over to him with a smile on your face.

He looked effortlessly elegant as he slightly leaned towards the marble fireplace while engaged in a conversation with two other men.

“Hey honey,” you said while tiptoeing and hinting a small peck at your boss’s face. You already knew that the team won’t ever shut up about this. You could almost hear their teasing. “I’ve brought your champagne.”

“Thank you, darling,” he said as he pulled you a bit closer by carefully placing his hands on your waist. “This is my wife, Charlotte, who I’ve mentioned before.”

“Cameron Wallace, nice to meet you, miss.”

“Brian Pierce, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“The pleasure is mine, gentlemen,” you said with a small smile on your face as you reached forward with your right hand, allowing them to hint one small kiss above your knuckles.

“So, darling, you know how we have problems with finding someone who’d make our marriage more interesting while still keeping it confidential” Hotch started talking almost nonchalantly.

“Guys, Cameron Wallace was a hot topic a few months ago. He comes from old money and had everything planned for his life by his filthy rich parents up until a few months ago. He was newlywed when shit hit the fan. He cheated on his wife with some high-end swinger who then ratted out everything to the media. And by everything, I mean literally everything. Not just the hook up but every single business secret the family had. Cameron got divorced, disowned and kicked out from the Wallace Corps, which is still at its lowest, by the way,” chimed in Garcia, giving you a little heads up, helping in which direction you should take the conversation.

“Ah yes. Nowadays you can never be sure about who you’re letting into your home. One minute you could lay in bed with them, the other minute they’re selling all your secrets and ruining your reputation, your whole life you’ve been working so hard for. It’s such a shame, really.” you said while you placed your palm on your chest as if you were soothing your aching heart. And bingo. Cameron caught the bait. By empathizing with him, even if it seemed unintentional on his part, he automatically felt more at ease around you.

“Totally agree. You could even buy a house for these whores and most of them would still sell you out” Cameron rolled his eyes. He was tall and conventionally attractive. Wavy dark brown hair, deep green eyes, muscular build, blindingly white teeth. Everyone who looked at him was able to tell that he was a total bitch.

“It’s awful what money does to people nowadays” I agreed, feeding into his ego. Brian was silent, more collected. He seemed older too, more around the age of Hotchner than you.

“Mr. Pierce seems weirdly clean and unproblematic, so it’s safe to assume that he paid a shit ton to get his past erased. For him, I’ll need more time.” rambled Penelope into your ears, and you took this as a warning to proceed with caution if it comes to the older man.

“I’m sorry, it must be a mistake on my side, but I didn’t quite catch your last name, Charlotte,” said suddenly the man. For a quick moment, panic rushed through you. He didn’t ask for Aaron’s full name, Garcia let you know via your earpiece. He was testing you directly. But you had no idea whether he was looking for a submissive wife or a confident, almost dominant one. You knew he was already playing out a fantasy, including you and if you picked the wrong role, the whole mission was fucked.

Okay, let’s calm down, Y/N. You are an excellent profiler; you can easily figure out a man. If I look at them as a team, Pierce is obviously the dominant one. Even if both are alpha males, Wallace is younger and short-tempered, probably narcissistic too. Brian Pierce seems smarter and much more manipulative, even able to control Cameron without him noticing it. I think he gets off on feeling powerful as an authority figure. He didn’t even talk that much with Hotchner, recognising that they’re somewhat similar which didn’t interest him, and only joined in the conversation when I was talking too much.

“I have my husband’s last name, of course,” you said with a shy smile while you started to fidget with your fingers and avoided Pierce’s gaze. “I think it would be disrespectful towards him to have it any other way, sir.” you heard a small, approving hum from Brian, so short you almost missed it. But this gave you the green light you desperately hoped for.

“And let me ask you a somewhat indiscrete question, miss. Is it you who wants to spice up your marriage with an additional person or your husband?”

“Both of us, Mr. Pierce. I love my husband more than anything. Everything I have is thanks to him and his hard work. I am truly fortunate that I caught his interest a few years ago in a similar event and I want to do everything to keep him interested. So, if he is curious about how it would be to have a third person in our bed, I’m more than happy to… experiment. I am just afraid that this person would try to harm my dear Aaron in any way.”

You heard the others snorting or even laughing at your monologue in other parts of the line and you almost broke character yourself. At this point, you couldn’t even blame the others for making fun of you in the future. You totally deserved it.

Your boss was silently looking at you, playing the part of a manipulative husband who was satisfied with his wife’s answers, revolving around him and only him.

“In that case, may I recommend a small event? Not even an event, I’d much rather call it a confidential get-together between people with similar interests. My wife and I had a similar problem, and we found a solution there not so long ago. She is a perfect addition to our lives without causing any difficulties.”

“I’d be more than open to anything, Brian,” said Hotchner with a small smirk on his face as he pulled you closer to him.

“One of my dear friends will host a private party in one of his villas in the countryside this weekend, I’m hoping to see you there,” said Pierce, shook Aaron’s hand and left, not even bothering to say goodbye to you. Cameron nodded and also left, leaving you two to be.

You slowly lowered your gaze to Hotch’s palm, in which there was a small, seemingly normal name card. But both of you knew it was so much more than that. It was your clue and a ticket to the auction, being held four days from now. The mission was successful; however, it came with the awkward part of having to play husband and wife for the rest of the night with your boss, to avoid suspicion.

“I am so sorry, L/N. They were giving subtle hints of the event, but I couldn’t get through them alone. They are alpha males, and I figured they needed to test you since both see women as a possible liability, even the wives.” apologized Aaron quietly, as if he was whispering something entirely different to you.

“It’s okay boss, we both knew this outcome could be a possibility,” you said and took a small sip of champagne. “I bet the team won’t let this slide anytime soon, though.”

“I wouldn’t even dare dream of it. Still, nice work, Agent,” he said in his usual, stoic demeanour, only his slight smile gave away that he was proud and satisfied with your performance. Without you, as the dumb, obedient wife, the team couldn’t get the information about where the traffickers would hold the next auction.

×××

“I am just afraid that this person would try to harm my dear Aaron in any way,” said Derek in a high-pitched voice with closed eyes and palms pressed on his chest. You were in your everyday attire, finally being able to move comfortably without the heavy dress.

“I love my husband more than anything. Oh my God, what would I even do without my precious husband?” joined in Emily, with a huge grin on her face that she couldn’t hide. The team finished for that day. It was way past the end of their work hours, but since the gala was held late at night, all of them were aware that this would stretch into whatever plans they originally had. They were in the small, stingy locker room, getting their coats and bags so they could leave the building.

“I’m so glad you’re enjoying yourselves at my expense, guys,” you said as if you were annoyed, but couldn’t hide the playful smile that was plastered on your face.

“Careful, her darling Aaron will beat your asses if you push the matter too far,” even Rossi had some commentary, in his usual, seemingly monotone style.

You couldn’t control the situation. Not that you wanted that much. You always enjoyed the light-hearted bickering and how everyone joined in when there was a chance to get on someone’s nerves.

“Can we expect another little Hotchner soon?” asked Reid not so far from you, who was organizing the contents of his brown satchel bag. His wavy brown hair hid most of his face as he looked down into the bag, but the tone of his voice gave you a hint that he was also just joining the others in teasing you. With his long, delicate fingers he carefully sorted out the books, newspapers, pen case and spectacle case that got mixed up in today’s work.

“If my dear husband deems that we need another small prodigy, I am more than happy to do my wifely duties and give him a child,” you said and tried to act as if you wholeheartedly believed every single word you said, causing the team to laugh at your silliness.

“Come on, Mrs Dutiful Wife, you’ll have plenty of time for that, now let’s finally call it a day,” said Derek jokingly as he hugged your shoulders with one arm and started to walk out from the locker room next to you.

Dr Spencer Reid was standing next to his open locker, gazing forward but not looking at anything. His brows were furrowed, and he looked quite annoyed. Like, when a crossword puzzle was made incorrectly, ruining his whole morning. What’s funny is that he had no idea why he felt that way, which made him even more pissed.

“Coming, Reid?” came the question from Emily who was about to leave the small room. He noticed that the doctor was standing in one place, so she called out.

“Of course, sorry. I just zoned out for a moment. Long day.”

He hated not understanding exactly everything about himself.

[alangdorf]

Sorry got distracted again 💥

[no1ryomafan]

hate ever since I finished giant robo yesterday my train of thought hasn’t been a critical analysis of what I consumed despite acknowledging both the show’s strengths and weaknesses and instead going back to my Imagawa Armageddon drama conspiracy board and going “okay no way in fuck he didn’t have Kei as Genki planned after the fucking family drama plot line in giant robo being similar to what we got in arma and it’s likely that the team got away with this idea after he left because they might’ve been in production for ep 4 but had to rewrite it and the show after onwards to fit the new direction”

or in simpler terms my brain activates “how do I make this about getter robo”

[minuutti]

i was tagged by @phant0m-l0rd to post a 10 song playlist, and since summer is approaching, here's a few picks from my finnish music only playlist titled midsummer melancholy:

ikkunat näkevät - stinako

onko liian myöhä - antti autio

mä mietin sua - ida paul & kalle lindroth

2051 - scandinavian music group

edelleen sua - kuumaa

ikuinen hehku - sydän, sydän

kun elokuun sininen vaihtuu mustaan - olavi uusivirta

läpi helsingin yön - litku klemetti

imatrankoski - pariisin kevät

yhtenä iltana - sara

[ekingston]

SO HERE IS THE WHOLE STORY (SO FAR).

I am on my knees begging you to reblog this post and to stop reblogging the original ones I sent out yesterday. This is the complete account with all the most recent info; the other one is just sending people down senselessly panicked avenues that no longer lead anywhere.

IN SHORT

Cliff Weitzman, CEO of Speechify and (aspiring?) voice actor, used AI to scrape thousands of popular, finished works off AO3 to list them on his own for-profit website and in his attached app. He did this without getting any kind of permission from the authors of said work or informing AO3. Obviously.

When fandom at large was made aware of his theft and started pushing back, Weitzman issued a non-apology on the original social media posts—using 

his dyslexia; 

his intent to implement a tip-system for the plagiarized authors; and 

a sudden willingness to take down the work of every author who saw my original social media posts and emailed him individually with a ‘valid’ claim,

as reasons we should allow him to continue monetizing fanwork for his own financial gain.

When we less-than-kindly refused, he took down his ‘apologies’ as well as his website (allegedly—it’s possible that our complaints to his web host, the deluge of emails he received or the unanticipated traffic brought it down, since there wasn’t any sort of official statement made about it), and when it came back up several hours later, all of the work formerly listed in the fan fiction category was no longer there. 

THE TAKEAWAYS

1. Cliff Weitzman (aka Ofek Weitzman) is a scumbag with no qualms about taking fanwork without permission, feeding it to AI and monetizing it for his own financial gain; 

2. Fandom can really get things done when it wants to, and 

3. Our fanworks appear to be hidden, but they’re NOT DELETED from Weitzman’s servers, and independently published, original works are still listed without the authors' permission. We need to hold this man responsible for his theft, keep an eye on both his current and future endeavors, and take action immediately when he crosses the line again. 

THE TIMELINE, THE DETAILS, THE SCREENSHOTS (behind the cut)

Sunday night, December 22nd 2024, I noticed an influx in visitors to my fic You & Me & Holiday Wine. When I searched the title online, hoping to find out where they came from, a new listing popped up (third one down, no less):

This listing is still up today, by the way, though now when you follow the link to word-stream, it just brings you to the main site. (Also, to be clear, this was not the cause for the influx of traffic to my fic; word-stream did not link back to the original work anywhere.)

I followed the link to word-stream, where to my horror Y&M&HW was listed in its entirety—though, beyond the first half of the first chapter, behind a paywall—along with a link promising to take me—through an app downloadable on the Apple Store—to an AI-narrated audiobook version. When I searched word-stream itself for my ao3 handle I found both of my multi-chapter fics were listed this way:

Because the tags on my fics (which included genres* and characters, but never the original IPs**) weren’t working, I put ‘Kara Danvers’ into the search bar and discovered that many more supercorp fics (Supergirl TV fandom, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor pairing) were listed.

I went looking online for any mention of word-stream and AI plagiarism (the covers—as well as the ridiculously inflated number of reviews and ratings—made it immediately obvious that AI fuckery was involved), but found almost nothing: only one single Reddit post had been made, and it received (at that time) only a handful of upvotes and no advice. 

I decided to make a tumblr post to bring the supercorp fandom up to speed about the theft. I draw as well as write for fandom and I’ve only ever had to deal with art theft—which has a clear set of steps to take depending on where said art was reposted—and I was at a loss regarding where to start in this situation.

After my post went up I remembered Project Copy Knight, which is worth commending for the work they’ve done to get fic stolen from AO3 taken down from monetized AI 'audiobook’ YouTube accounts. I reached out to @echoekhi, asking if they’d heard of this site and whether they could advise me on how to get our works taken down.

While waiting for a reply I looked into Copy Knight’s methods and decided to contact OTW’s legal department:

And then I went to bed.

By morning, tumblr friends @makicarn and @fazedlight as well as a very helpful tumblr anon had seen my post and done some very productive sleuthing:

@echoekhi had also gotten back to me, advising me, as expected, to contact the OTW. So I decided to sit tight until I got a response from them.

That response came only an hour or so later: 

Which was 100% understandable, but still disappointing—I doubted a handful of individual takedown requests would accomplish much, and I wasn’t eager to share my given name and personal information with Cliff Weitzman himself, which is unavoidable if you want to file a DMCA.

I decided to take it to Reddit, hoping it would gain traction in the wider fanfic community, considering so many fandoms were affected. My Reddit posts (with the updates at the bottom as they were emerging) can be found here and here.

A helpful Reddit user posted a guide on how users could go about filing a DMCA against word-stream here (to wobbly-at-best results)

A different helpful Reddit user signed up to access insight into word-streams pricing. Comment is here.

Smells unbelievably scammy, right? In addition to those audacious prices—though in all fairness any amount of money would be audacious considering every work listed is accessible elsewhere for free—my dyscalculia is screaming silently at the sight of that completely unnecessary amount of intentionally obscured numbers.

Speaking of which! As soon as the post on r/AO3—and, as a result, my original tumblr post—began taking off properly, sometime around 1 pm, jumpscare! A notification that a tumblr account named @cliffweitzman had commented on my post, and I got a bit mad about the gist of his message :

Fortunately he caught plenty of flack in the comments from other users (truly you should check out the comment section, it is extremely gratifying and people are making tremendously good points), in response to which, of course, he first tried to both reiterate and renegotiate his point in a second, longer comment (which I didn’t screenshot in time so I’m sorry for the crappy notification email formatting):

which he then proceeded to also post to Reddit (this is another Reddit user’s screenshot, I didn’t see it at all, the notifications were moving too fast for me to follow by then)

... where he got a roughly equal amount of righteously furious replies. (Check downthread, they're still there, all the way at the bottom.)

After which Cliff went ahead & deleted his messages altogether. 

It’s not entirely clear whether his account was suspended by Reddit soon after or whether he deleted it himself, but considering his tumblr account is still intact, I assume it’s the former. He made a handful of sock puppet accounts to play around with for a while, both on Reddit and Tumblr, only one of which I have a screenshot of, but since they all say roughly the same thing, you’re not missing much:

And then word-stream started throwing a DNS error.

That lasted for a good number of hours, which was unfortunately right around the time that a lot of authors first heard about the situation and started asking me individually how to find out whether their work was stolen too. I do not have that information and I am unclear on the perimeters Weitzman set for his AI scraper, so this is all conjecture: it LOOKS like the fics that were lifted had three things in common:

They were completed works;

They had over several thousand kudos on AO3; and

They were written by authors who had actively posted or updated work over the past year.

If anyone knows more about these perimeters or has info that counters my observation, please let me know!

I finally thought to check/alert evil Twitter during this time, and found out that the news was doing the rounds there already. I made a quick thread summarizing everything that had happened just in case. You can find it here.

I went to Bluesky too, where fandom was doing all the heavy lifting for me already, so I just reskeeted, as you do, and carried on.

Sometime in the very early evening, word-stream went back up—but the fan fiction category was nowhere to be seen. Tentative joy and celebration!***

That’s when several users—the ones who had signed up for accounts to gain intel and had accessed their own fics that way—reported that their work could still be accessed through their history. Relevant Reddit post here.

Sooo—

We’re obviously not done. The fanwork that was stolen by Weitzman may be inaccessible through his website right now, but they aren’t actually gone. And the fact that Weitzman wasn’t willing to get rid of them altogether means he still has plans for them. 

This was my final edit on my Reddit post before turning off notifications, and it's pretty much where my head will be at for at least the foreseeable future:

Please feel free to add info in the comments, make your own posts, take whatever action you want to take to protect your work. I only beg you—seriously, I’m on my knees here—to not give up like I saw a handful of people express the urge to do. Keep sharing your creative work and remain vigilant and stay active to make sure we can continue to do so freely. Visit your favorite fics, and the ones you’ve kept in your ‘marked for later’ lists but never made time to read, and leave kudos, leave comments, support your fandom creatives, celebrate podficcers and support AO3. We created this place and it’s our responsibility to keep it alive and thriving for as long as we possibly can.

Also FUCK generative AI. It has NO place in fandom spaces.

THE 'SMALL' PRINT (some of it in all caps):

*Weitzman knew what he was doing and can NOT claim ignorance. One, it’s pretty basic kindergarten stuff that you don’t steal some other kid’s art project and present it as your own only to act surprised when they protest and then tell the victim that they should have told you sooner that they didn’t want their project stolen. And two, he was very careful never to list the IPs these fanworks were based on, so it’s clear he was at least familiar enough with the legalities to not get himself in hot water with corporate lawyers. Fucking over fans, though, he figured he could get away with that. 

**A note about the AI that Weitzman used to steal our work: it’s even greasier than it looks at first glance. It’s not just the method he used to lift works off AO3 and then regurgitate onto his own website and app. Looking beyond the untold horrors of his AI-generated cover ‘art’, in many cases these covers attempt to depict something from the fics in question that can’t be gleaned from their summaries alone. In addition, my fics (and I assume the others, as well) were listed with generated genres; tags that did not appear anywhere in or on my fic on AO3 and were sometimes scarily accurate and sometimes way off the mark. I remember You & Me & Holiday Wine had ‘found family’ (100% correct, but not tagged by me as such) and I believe The Shape of Soup was listed as, among others, ‘enemies to friends to lovers’ and ‘love triangle’ (both wildly inaccurate). Even worse, not all the fic listed (as authors on Reddit pointed out) came with their original summaries at all. Often the entire summary was AI-generated. All of these things make it very clear that it was an all-encompassing scrape—not only were our fics stolen, they were also fed word-for-word into the AI Weitzman used and then analyzed to suit Weitzman’s needs. This means our work was literally fed to this AI to basically do with whatever its other users want, including (one assumes) text generation. 

***Fan fiction appears to have been made (largely) inaccessible on word-stream at this time, but I’m hearing from several authors that their original, independently published work, which is listed at places like Kindle Unlimited, DOES still appear in word-stream’s search engine. This obviously hurts writers, especially independent ones, who depend on these works for income and, as a rule, don’t have a huge budget or a legal team with oceans of time to fight these battles for them. If you consider yourself an author in the broader sense, beyond merely existing online as a fandom author, beyond concerns that your own work is immediately at risk, DO NOT STOP MAKING NOISE ABOUT THIS.

PLEASE check my later versions of this post via my main page to make sure you have the latest version of this post before you reblog. All the information I’ve been able to gather is in my reblogs below, and it's frustrating to see the old version getting passed around, sending people on wild goose chases.

Thank you all so much!

[healmydesires]

sweet like sugar ꕤ (l.h)

part one

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

summary: Now that Logan was finally able to call you his, he couldn’t get enough of you.

OR

Logan fucks you from behind.

genre: fluff + smut (18+ mdni)

word count: 3,7k

warnings/tags: friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, thunderstorms, literally the scene right after this fic, porn with NO plot, reader is described as shorter than logan, inexperienced!reader, hint at loss of virginity, unprotected sex, piv sex, doggy style, soft!dom logan, ok… just in overall bye, logan is soft for reader, sub!reader, creampie, overstimulation, major size kink, praise kink, dirty talk, logan talks you thru it. a lot more daddy kink in this one ngl. HEAVY ON THE BREEDING kink aaaaa sorry. I am still ovulating. they’re both FREAKS. scent kink? reader is also ovulating bye. lots of pet names. logan is worshipping his sweet girl ok! reader is a mutant but it’s not really mentioned in this part tho. reader has hair, no further description though. this is not beta read sorry!

a/n: GUESS WHAT!!! I finished part two that I wanted to originally post in the main fic but it kinda felt out of place idk either way!! I’m posting it now 🤪 I thought I’ll write what I WANT to read. this is high key self indulgent. english isn’t my first language so pls bear with me <3 this is just smut😭 I literally wrote this while ovulating…

this goes without saying, but if you don't like it don't read it <3

AO3 • masterlist

Logan manhandled your body, guiding your body so that you were lying on your stomach. He manoeuvred you in the position he wanted you to be. His hands came to hold your hips, pulling them up, your ass in the air for him.

He kneads the flesh of your cheeks before spreading them apart for him. Your body slumped slightly forward with exhaustion but Logan is quick to grip your hips, holding you in the same position. “Oh kitten, I’m not done with you yet.” He tutted.

You whimpered, feeling his eyes on your wet heat as it clenched repeatedly, aching and begging to be filled all over again and again. Logan growled as he stared at your entrance as your combined cum dripped down your hole, as you continued to clench around nothing. Your body trembled with anticipation.

Logan had made sure you’d cum several times before he took you for the first time. Before tonight, you were so inexperienced, a virgin actually. Now, all you could think about was that you wanted and needed him to continue and fuck you for hours, filling your pussy with his cum over and over again.

He leaned over you, covering your whole body with his own. Logan nuzzled your neck as he littered your skin with his kisses. You writhed against him, wishing he was just pushing his cock in you already and filling you up in the best way.

The air was stuffy all around you, each harsh breath released only thickening it up, leaving your skin hot and your mind fuzzy. Logan groaned into your ear, mouthing kisses along your neck, tongue trailing down the junction between your neck and shoulder before he gently nipped your skin.

Logan reached down to grasp his cock to line up with your tight entrance. He rubbed his tip firmly over your pulsing hole. Your mind was all over the place as his ministrations continued.

“Fuck, can’t wait to fill you up again.”

His breath caught in his throat as his cock smeared his pre cum against your already cum filled hole. The usual restraint between his mind and his words seemed to vanish, as words tumbled from his mouth.

“I wonder if you can handle this position already.” He whispered almost to himself as his hands kneaded your ass cheeks. “Your tiny pussy could barely handle my cock earlier…”

“No, daddy… I can take your big cock.” You whined desperately as you tried to push your hips against his own, hoping he’d enter your pussy again. You were squirming, as you kept trying to push his cock inside you, but Logan had a strong hold on you, which made it hard for you to move around too much. “I’m daddy’s good girl.”

At your words Logan growled, grasping your hips and tilting them more and pushed your trembling legs further apart.

Logan inhaled sharply. “You smell so good, kitten. I can smell your fertility. Your little pussy is practically begging for my cum.” He murmured against your ear. Your cheeks flushed with heat at his words. Logan continued as he pressed tender kisses down your neck, “Can’t wait to breed this pussy again and again with my cock. All night.” Logan moaned and you hissed at the heated sensation of his cock, your eyelids fluttering when you felt it press against your entrance.

A broken gasp left your lips as he finally slid the tip inside you. You felt his body moving behind you, sitting up against you, and you knew his eyes were on your pussy. He watched as your walls spread to try and begin to wrap around him. You whimpered at the new angle as you tried to accommodate his girth. He could barely get more of it in your tight walls at first, eventually using more force to open you up for him. It felt like you were being torn open, split in half.

“D-d-daddy…” you stuttered and mewled.

“I know baby girl, I know.” Logan moaned as he gradually slid more of his thickness inside you and you trembled more underneath him. Your pulsing walls were wrapped tightly around his cock, as your soaked pussy pulled him in more. The pressure of his massive dick deep within your walls overwhelmed you while you clutched the sheets below you in tight fists.

Logan towered over you, as he pushed more of his length inside you, his gaze focused on your clenching hole as his dick slowly disappeared more and more inside you.

You arched your back as you clung onto the bed sheets for dear life, nails digging into the comforters. You couldn’t keep quiet, little mewls and whimpers tumbled past your lips with ease as Logan slid inside.

“Ah, daddy… so big.” You whined.

“You take me so well, pretty girl. Doing so good for daddy.” He moaned as he leaned down to press a soft kiss against your cheek, as he kept pushing more of his girth in you slowly. Every time Logan would slide more inside your pussy would squeeze around him. You knew he was barely halfway in, still you felt so full.

“So full…”

“I know my sweet girl, I know. You’re doing so well, soon you’ll be filled with all of daddy’s cock.”

The whines and whimpers and moans kept spilling from your lips as Logan continued to push deeper and deeper. Your hands trembled as they gripped the sheets between your fingers while he penetrated your tight walls.

“P-please, need more. I can handle it daddy…” you whimpered as you tried to push back your trembling body against him, his cock sliding deeper inside you.

He groaned at your desperate whines and as you pushed back against him , losing his composure momentarily as he thrust the rest of his thick cock all the way inside your wetness. The head of his cock touched your cervix once he bottoms out. A scream left your mouth as you trembled underneath him, your pussy trying to adjust to his size as it clenched around his cock. You pushed your head into the pillows as pathetic whimpers kept falling from your lips.

“Christ, you’re so warm—fuck—so tight,” he growled, rambling without a thought, too enveloped in the feeling of your tight walls wrapped around him.

You moaned and squeezed around his cock at his words, leaving him panting above you. Both of his hands moved to grab at your ass cheeks, kneading them slowly and gently.

“God, sweetheart, you’re so fucking hot… and wet. How are you this tight?” Logan groaned — the deep timbre of his voice reverberating through the air.

There was an intense pressure deep within your stomach — Logan’s thick cock throbbed erratically inside you. The feeling of him nestled so deep within you had you sighing in pleasure. There was still a dull ache — from how wide he stretched you out; your walls pulled apart to their limits — but pleasure soon replaced the stinging ache. Gradually, you adjusted to Logan’s size and with an experimental swivel of your hips, you cried out in pleasure.

Fingers were digging harder into your ass, soft grunts and pants escaped his lips as you moved your hips slowly back against him. “Fuck— that’s it, baby. Grind all over my cock—you feel so good,” Logan growled as his head fell back. The soft murmuring of his voice ripped through the room, the sounds of his own pleasure intermingled with yours.

“Fuck, Logaaaan,” you whined — drawing out the syllables of his name. His hands were still on your ass — holding the plump flesh in his large hands while he squeezed and spread them apart.

Pleasure seeped into your veins, and you began grinding and squeezing more feverishly against him. Short gasps of pleasure slipped from your lips, as you felt his cock pulse inside your tight walls.

“Kitten, fuck, I can’t wait anymore. Need to fuck you.” He slurred and panted above you — euphoric elation dripped from his words. Your stomach twisted — the heat inside caused your stomach to flip and turn with every one of your movements. “Need to breed this pussy.”

“Ah, Lo—”

Both your breaths laboured as you’d feel his hips move, quickly pulling himself almost all the way out of your pussy, as you whined at the empty feeling. “Such a needy pussy.” Logan growled before he thrust himself all the way inside your cunt again.

“Ah ah fuck, daddy… oh my god—” you hiccup as he moved his hips slowly but hard against yours. You cried out as he thrust so deep inside you that it had your body slumping against the bed. Your pussy continued to pulse and squeeze around his thickness, as it tried to adjust to its girth still.

“Pussy needs to be filled all the time ain’t that right?” He groaned as he punctuated every word with a thrust.

You moaned loudly as you arched your back and pressed your ass up against him. He grabbed your asscheeks, keeping the angle perfect as he rolled his hips deeply into yours. You felt his cock throbbing inside you as you tightened around him.

He was so deep, hitting your cervix repeatedly which made your eyes roll back in your head.

“F-fuck baby girl, you’re so sexy like this.” Logan slowly picked up his pace at the sight of you throwing your head back. “You’re all mine, isn’t that right kitten?”

With every thrust, you couldn’t help but cry out in pleasure. Not only was Logan’s cock thick, but he was incredibly long too, his length just slightly curved: which allowed his head to drag against that sweet spot inside you.

Large hands moved to your hips, Logan gripped them tightly as he helped you move against him. Every movement had hot spikes of pleasure jolting across your skin, your toes curled in elation while your stomach twisted and knots violently. The ecstatic bliss of your impending orgasm called to you and you began bouncing your ass against him.

“Ah, y-yes yes yes, I’m all yours. P-please please f-fuuuck, I need m-mo—” you begged and you’re unable to finish your sentence as he gave you a particularly hard thrust.

You felt your arms almost giving out on you because of the force of his thrusts. Logan’s hands were clawing at the sides of your hips, guiding you with him, and he leaned down to place kisses on your upper back, his kisses travelled down your spine, until he leaned back up and just watched you as he fucked into you from behind.

Skin melded together, your sweat acting as a glue, you lost yourself into the feel of Logan. Your mind goes blank as all you could do was focus on the feeling of him stretching you, filling you up, so overwhelmed with bliss already. He thrust deeper inside you, which earned him whines and moans as you continued to cry out his name. You tried to tell him, breathlessly, about how good he made you feel.

The sound of your pleasure fuelled his desire to fuck you better, urged him to do more.

Logan picked up his pace, thrusting into you quicker, harder, hitting the spot that had your body going numb.

From above you, Logan fucked harder — his cock thrusting deeper into you. The additional sensation caused you to whimper, your pussy twitched as sheer, unadulterated bliss began flitting through your bloodstream. You were close — so close you could practically taste your orgasm; even if your mouth was completely dry from gasping his name and calling him daddy over and over again.

You clawed at the sheets, burying your face into the pillow to muffle your screams. The air was all stuffy around you as his hips moved faster, you whimpered as you tried to push back your hips against his to take more of his big cock. Your tiny pussy was so full of him, still trying to accommodate his thick girth as it pulsed and tightened around him. Logan moaned at the sight, kneading your ass as he tried to bury himself more inside you, his tip hitting your cervix instantly. Your eyes rolled back inside your head once again as you dug your fingers more into the bed, you mewled against the sheets at the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you.

You whined loudly as he shifted inside you, the new angle made him hit your sensitive spot inside you.

“Fuuuck,” Logan moaned. Your pussy was so wet and warm around him, your walls squeezed his cock with every thrust, “feels so good, kitten. You’re taking daddy’s cock so well.”

Your noises became louder and higher pitched as he continued his assault on your pussy, indicating that you were getting closer as well as the lewd sounds of your pussy that kept meeting his cock over and over again. The sounds mixed so well with your desperate cries.

Logan couldn’t help it, you looked so pretty like this. Fucked out beneath him and so fucking full of his cock, the closer he got to his orgasm the more the images of you filled with his cum consumed his thoughts.

“Your pussy is so tight and wet around me, begging me to fill you up in other ways… begging for my cum.” He groaned as he thrust harder into your heat. “Begging for me to breed her.”

“God, daddy-daddy please. Fuck I—” You whined as your eyes rolled back inside your head.

“What do you want, kitten?” He groaned while one of his hands reached around you to slip against your clit as you writhed against him as he applied pressure. The pleasure had the tension tightening in the pit of your stomach, dying for your release.

Suddenly, everything became too much: the pressure against your clit, his grunts, the sticky, sweaty feeling, his scent, his warmth, the drilling of his cock inside you. Just everything. You tried to catch your breath but from how Logan was thrusting inside you and the rubbing against your clit it felt almost impossible to do so.

“F-feels s-soo— F-fuck, I-I, daddyyyy—”

“Look at you,” he chuckled breathlessly, “so cock drunk and so fucked out you can barely talk.” He whispered once he leaned down as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, as he picked up his pace once again. He fucked you so fast and hard that you swore you never moaned so loud in your life. “Don’t worry, I think I know what you need.”

He leaned his body completely against yours as he continued to hit against your cervix repeatedly while one of his hands kept rubbing your little bundle of nerves. “Feels good doesn’t it, sweet girl?” You whimpered and trembled underneath him as you nodded, he moaned against your ear before he whispered close to you. “Does it feel good? That I’m fucking you like this? Just the way you wanted it.”

“Y-yes! F-feels sooooo so gooood, Looo—” you whined as he continued to hit your sensitive spots inside you. Logan’s fingers kept pressing down on your little nub making you squirm. The tension continued to build up as the pleasure became too overwhelming.

“That’s right, princess.”

Logan snapped his hips into you again and again, thrusting deep, causing you to see stars from knowing just how to pleasure you. You felt like your head was swimming once again as you whined. “I’m sooo so close, p-please… daddy… I’ve been such a good girl.” you begged desperately. You only needed one more little push, a little bit more attention to finally reach your peak again.

“Yes, you’ve been such a good girl for daddy.” He panted above you.

You cried out for him, your moans almost sounding like his name as he moved his head down again, pressing kisses all over the side of your face down your neck.

“Can’t wait, fuck—“ he breathed, he stopped himself to let out a loud groan, “can’t wait to fill you up. I keep dreaming about filling you up nice and good. ”

The words made you keen and pulse around his cock, as you moaned his name into the warm air of your bedroom. You wanted more, needed to hear more, wanted to know what else he wanted, what else he dreamed of but your voice was strangled, your brain incapable of forming a sentence.

“I keep dreaming about breeding this pussy until you’re fuckin’ pregnant.” He grunted before he whispered in your ear, “be a good girl and cum for daddy.”

“Fuck, oh my god,” you cried, a shrill wail as Logan’s words went straight to your pussy. Your cunt gushed all over Logan’s cock as he never stopped. His thrusts were hard and deep, enough to turn your vision starry.

“That’s it… that’s it, let go pretty girl.” He murmured lowly into your ear.

His hips never slowed down as he massaged your clit. And then the coil in your lower tummy snapped, your eyes rolled back into your head while you arched your back as your world dissolved into pure ecstasy. You couldn’t stop yourself from shaking as he talked you through it. You almost blacked out because of the intensity of your orgasm, trembling like crazy. You whimpered as the overstimulation got to you.

“Doing so good for me, baby.” He groaned as his pace became more erratic, with less finesse as he charged towards his own finish line. “Daddy wants to fill you up. N-need to fuck my cum into you, kitten. Breed you and get you nice and full…”

Your walls pulsed and tightened around him as he continued to hit your sweet spot inside you. He groaned as his movements became more sloppy. He cried out your name with a gasping breath. Loud mewls left your lips as he finally spilled his seed inside you, coating each inch of you with a warmth that pooled deep inside you. An instant wave of pleasure rolled throughout your body as he filled you up with his hot cum.

“Ah...” you whimpered underneath him as your body continued to shake.

He kept fucking his cock inside of you, fucking his cum deep inside of you until he was satisfied. Logan exhaled deeply as he came down from his high, his body slumping against your own. His cock was still lodged deep inside you, still half hard as he kept the cum inside your pussy. You whimpered as your pussy pulsed around him, as it kept clenching repeatedly around his still hard length.

You tried to catch your breath as Logan groaned while you continued tightening involuntarily around him. “Kitten,” he warned breathlessly, “don’t do that.”

“I can’t really help it.” You said under your breath.

He gently pulled out of your tiny spent hole, making you whimper at the loss and you felt his eyes on you, knowing that he watched his seed drool out of you. Your legs were spread wide, and your pussy slightly gaping from where he’d fucked you open. But he was much more focused on how his cum leaked out of you, his seed dripping down your hole. Chest swelling with pride, he couldn’t help but let out a lazy smile.Your pussy continued to clench repeatedly around nothing and he groaned at the sight. Logan made sure to plunge his pointer finger into your hole as you gasped, stuffing you back up with your shared cum.

You winced at the sensation, a whimper slipped from your lips at the sensitivity. Pressing a kiss to your knee, “We’ll have to clean you up,” Logan mumbled, even as he continued pushing his fingers inside you.

“Not now, I’m tired,” you murmured back whiningly. When the ache of oversensitivity got too much, you bat Logan’s hand away before you closed your legs.

With a low laugh, Logan pressed an apologetic kiss to your knee before picking you up effortlessly, making you yelp in surprise. “Up you go.” You were about to complain that you could walk perfectly to the bathroom on your own, when you felt sore and your legs felt incredibly numb.

Once he reached the bathroom, he sat you down on the edge of the bathtub all while running the water and surprising you with your favourite bath bomb, to create a bubble bath. It brought a smile to your face knowing he knew so much about you.

“Logan… how is it that you always know what I need?” You whispered as you looked at him dreamily.

“Isn’t that what your best friend and new boyfriend should know?” He gave you a teasing smile.

“Either way, thank you.” You whispered before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

You leaned into Logan's gentle support as the tub filled. When it was ready, he carefully lifted you and helped you into the warm water. Looking up, you moved towards the centre, silently inviting him to join. Logan eased in behind you, and you shifted forward slightly so he could settle comfortably. The soothing warmth enveloped you both as you relaxed against him, relaxing instantly in the peaceful moment.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

His strong arms encircled your waist, drawing you closer until you were nestled securely against him. You let out a contented sigh, feeling the solid warmth of his chest behind you. The gentle rise and fall of his breathing was soothing, and you found yourself relaxing even further.

“I love you,” he whispered, his breath soft against your ear. His lips then traced a tender path down your neck, each kiss a gentle affirmation of his words. The sweet gesture sent a pleasant shiver through you.

A smile spread across your face as you settled deeper into his embrace, feeling utterly at peace. The moment felt perfect — safe, warm, and full of affection. You shifted against him, shuffling around as you moved closer into him in the water, you pressed your naked body against his. Face to face once again. Easily, your legs tangled together, and closing your eyes, you let his words and the comfort of his presence wash over you. Your heart swelled with emotion as you replied, your voice soft but filled with certainty.

“I love you too.”

In that quiet moment, surrounded by his warmth and care, you felt truly cherished. The storm outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble of contentment.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ And that’s how the rest of the night went, tender kisses and soft touches shared between you two as you enjoyed each other's company. Feeling so loved and at home as you melted in his embrace.

[yourmidnightlover]

the sun

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: after the events of the snap, you find out news that's both heart wrenching and warming. what happens five years later when bucky's back?

warnings: death, mourning, pregnancy, childbirth, canon-typical violence (not much but just adding to cover all the bases), loosely based on end game and infinity war (as in ignore my mistakes lmaooo), if i failed to mention any warnings PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

wc: 2.6k

a/n: dude idk why i've had an urge to write such heart wrenching angst lately. i'm actually in a decent place rn. i tried to cut this fic down bc originally it was SOOOO long i felt like a lot of it was just filler and i feel like shorter fics of mine tend to do better... ANYWHO! this does have a happy/hopeful ending so no worries! also picturing this beefcake for this story is AGHHHHHHH!

you never thought two lines on a stick could ever break your heart the way they did.

tears clouded your vision as you gripped the counter, trying not to crumble or succumb to your grief.

6 weeks ago, the avengers lost. everything.

half of the world, gone in a moment.

in one moment, your world collapsed. seeing bucky fade to dust right in front of you...

sobs wracked through your body as you crumbled to the ground.

this was supposed to be a happy moment. there should be tears of joy, not sobs of sorrow. your heart should feel full of love, not like there's a super-soldier sized hole in it.

"y/n," nat's voice rang outside the door, giving you a moment to yourself.

"just-," you tried to level your breathing before she opened the door, knowing but not understanding the grief you were feeling.

she wrapped her arms around your body, tucking your head into her neck as she gently rubbed your back soothingly. steve leaned against the bathroom door, glancing on the counter to see what they had all expected.

a positive pregnancy test.

you were having bucky's baby.

without bucky.

you gripped his dog tags that you had been wearing since the funeral. they were the only thing that could truly ground you.

they brought back happy memories of cuddling in bed, the cool metal shocking your skin for only a moment before realizing that it was only bucky and smiling at the memory.

god, it hadn't even been two months.

how were you supposed to do this alone?

"we're here for you," steve's voice called from the doorway, as if he could hear your thoughts. "you'll never be alone. not in this... not ever." he shook his head, his brows furrowed in a serious, straight line.

eventually, your sobs subsided. you stood with nat from your seat on the ground, wiping your own eyes mustering up a pathetic smile before she left you and steve to work out your grief together.

"we didn't even know it was possible," you shrugged. "it's like he sent me them..." you placed your hand on an invisible bump before facing steve, his teary eyes reminding you that he had lost his best friend, too. "he sent us this baby."

you reached your hand out for steve to hold. he took it gratefully and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tight and letting only a few tears slip his waterline before pulling back.

"if you'll let me, i want to be there for you for everything," his chin wobbled. "buck would kick my ass if i let you go through this alone." a genuine laugh left your lips for the first time in nearly two months.

"i would be so grateful for that," you nodded as you let go of his arms. "part of me still can't believe that it's real. it's like part of me still expects him to walk into the compound from a long mission or something..." you shook your head. "i know that sounds so stupid."

"it's not," he shook his head with a smile. "it's what i wish was true, maybe it's your subconscious trying to preserve your mind?"

"maybe," you shrugged before continuing, "i should probably talk to tony and bruce, huh?"

-

you knew you were around eight weeks along.

according to the doctors' tony had enlisted, however, you were already 12 weeks along, which was impossible.

bucky had been gone on a mission at that time... but it's whatever. you got to hear the heartbeat. steve went with you, too. you both bawled together. you kept three copies of the ultrasound and he kept two.

banner had already offered to do some testing on the dna of the baby, noting that the serum would likely affect the pregnancy (as it probably already has).

you had talked to tony about retiring from the whole superhero gig for the time being. you needed to mourn and prepare for a new life simultaneously. tony had promised to provide anything you needed at the drop of a hat, and he sure as hell delivered.

within no time, your pregnancy was being measured at 20 weeks while only being pregnant for 12. banner was concerned for your body's ability to keep up with the rapid rate of growth of the baby. he had you on a strict, hefty diet with two different prenatal vitamins in attempt to help your nutrition.

in spite of your best efforts, you were always exhausted and in pain. but you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. this was bucky's baby. you didn't care how much pain you went through when you had half of him growing inside of you.

you couldn't walk for long without feeling like passing out, which banner chalked up to low iron. steve had grown progressively more worried for you and the baby the longer the pregnancy went on.

as a result, he had moved into the spare room that was in your and bucky's house. truly, it just made it easier for him to help you finish up the nursery anyway.

he was very handy about it all, painting, building furniture from scratch, the whole deal.

"i've been thinking... and if it's a girl, i want to name her evangeline james barnes," you informed steve as you ate the steak he had been making for the past few weeks of your pregnancy, as ordered by dr. banner. that with carrots, broccoli, potatoes, and for dessert strawberries, blueberries and raspberries over ice cream. "and if it's a boy, cyrus james barnes. evangeline means good news, and cyrus means sun."

steve placed his hand over yours, "i think buck would've loved them." he smiled warmly as you downed the food in a few minutes.

you had begun showing soon after you found out you were pregnant, but now, it felt like it was impossible to hide. nat had been wonderful about helping you keep up with the changes your body was going through, getting you new maternity clothes every week.

she even made sure to get you every single craving that wasn't in accordance to banner's hefty diet. not that he didn't want you to eat more, he thought it was best you did! but he also wanted to make sure that with all that you did eat, your body got as many nutrients as possible.

just to be safe, he kept you on other vitamin supplements anyway.

you couldn't help but imagine what bucky would say or do about everything now.

he would hold your body closely, pressing firm kisses to your bump every chance he could get while whispering some sickly sweet sayings to your unborn child, words that would melt the winter soldier's cold exterior.

he would whisper words of encouragement any moment you felt worried about your abilities to be a mom. he would say how beautiful you were, in spite of being bloated in places you didn't know could bloat.

he would be wonderful, and in your mind, he was still alive and vibrant. well, as vibrant as bucky ever was, at least.

truthfully, that's the only way you were able to keep going on like this. steve was wonderful, but you couldn't help but want the love of your life by your side as you tried to navigate this new chapter.

in a couple more weeks, you were projected to be at 32 weeks. bruce and tony were talking with your doctors about the safety of inducing so early, both for you and the baby.

oh, and you wanted the gender to be a surprise.

and within the week, you were having your baby.

steve and nat were by your side during the birth, whispering encouraging words and compliments of your strength.

"i need him!" you screamed in pain as you held one of each of their hands, sobbing in agony. "i need james! i need my bucky! i can't do this alone, i can't-i can't!"

"you can," nat reminded you. "this baby needs you," she held your face to look at hers. "bucky is a part of this baby." you swore you could see tears in her eyes before turning to face steve.

"remember what you told me when you found out you were pregnant?" he didn't bother wiping the tears from his face. "bucky sent you-sent us this baby. he knows you can do it." you sniffled before nodding at your two best friends, pushing with one last scream and a second later, you had...

"cyrus james barnes," the nurse called to you. "it's a boy, congratulations mom."

-

the next few years went by quicker than you could've ever imagined.

crawling, first words, first steps...

you missed bucky. not a day passed where you didn't miss him.

but, having cy helped a lot. he looked just like his father. dark brown hair, icy blue eyes, a cute little nose... not to mention his father's stubbornness.

you made sure he knew who his father was. you took him to the museum often, showing him the statue of his father and his background in the world war, him saving the world so much. you told him how you fell in love with him.

how you fell for the quiet man before ever really talking to him. how you were partners on a long-term, undercover mission and that's where your love ignited from the sparks.

not that cy understood any of what you told him. you just felt it was important to know that his parents loved him, and each other dearly.

you never took off his dog tags, either.

steve was a huge help the whole time. he kept working for the avengers, so he was gone often, but he provided a good male role model for cyrus. after all, he was his uncle steve. he already taught him how to throw a ball, albeit a little softball, but it counts!

you made sure to document everything that went on in yours and cyrus's life.

banner had said that cyrus was growing at an exceeding rate, but nothing to be concerned about. in fact, cyrus was turning five in almost half a year, meaning the anniversary of bucky's death, or disappearance or whatever you called it, was coming up.

then, you got a call from tony and banner.

it all happened so quickly, from testing to planning to the execution. pepper watched cyrus for you while you went back with steve, scott, and tony to get the tesseract.

of course, the men being men had to come upon a few hiccups, but eventually, after going as far back as the 70s, you brought back the tesseract.

the only thing is that nat never came back...

next thing you know, bruce is snapping his fingers and clint is getting a call from his supposedly deceased wife. your eyes fill with tears, hands searching in your pockets for your phone to see if you've gotten anything yet.

is it possible he wasn't brought back? he was the first to... disintegrate. die. maybe that meant something in the eyes of the stones?

then, you felt a buzz in your hand.

although, you didn't have any time to try to grasp what that meant, because more aliens came to earth.

shocker.

after yet another war, one that you weren't even prepared for, after losing more people, again. after losing tony...

but amidst the chaos of the aftermath of the fight, with screams of joy and shock and grief surrounding you, tears streaming down your face, your eyes met the blue ones you only saw in your son.

he slowly walked towards you as the tears sped up. you didn't even realize when your feet began running towards him.

when his arms wrapped around your waist, you finally felt the home you thought you had come to terms with never feeling again. your arms wrapped around his neck, your face buried in his shoulder as you breathed in the scent of gunmetal that had overtaken him in the battle.

"oh my god," you cried into the leather of his jacket. he lifted you off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist as you felt his smile on your cheek. "i can't believe you're really here."

"i'm here, doll," his hands cradled your head so tenderly. "i'm not ever leaving again. never."

you pulled back before your eyes widened in realization. "you've gotta meet someone, jamie."

his brows furrowed in confusion, just smiling and nodding along with whatever you said.

within the next few hours, simply being held by bucky before steve stole him away with a hug, you finally brought him home.

"so, steve moved in," you started as you pulled your car into the driveway, turning to see bucky looking at you with an incredulous look. "you'll see why." you reached to hold his hand before he brought yours to his lips, pressing a kiss there.

you told him to wait in the car as you went inside to relieve the babysitter for cyrus. after giving him some cash, he went outside, knocking on your car window to let bucky know he should make his way inside.

upon entering, he saw you sitting on the floor with a little boy with striking blue eyes that seemed so familiar to him. his nose, too. his lips though, they were all yours. he had a slight grin plastered on his lips, one that matched yours to a t.

"daddy?" suddenly, it all clicked.

his heart, his mind, his fucking soul, everything made sense now. the pain, hydra, the mind washing, the torture.

meeting you. falling in love. dying?

his son.

he started walking closer to bucky before the steady walk turned into a run. bucky knelt down, wrapping the boy in his arms, cradling his tiny frame in his arms protectively. his son.

"cyrus james barnes," you said with a teary smile on your face. bucky, without breaking the hug with his son, looked up at you with a smile that matched yours. "cyrus means 'sun', and i thought it was fitting. he brought me so much light and hope after you..." you choked up before he stood up with cy in his arms, walking towards you before wrapping you in the big, family hug.

"i love you so much, both of you."

[venusbyline]

Aemond Targaryen — The Beloved Son

— summary: If Aemond could not seek love from the only woman who would take him in her arms and caress his hair, then he needed to find a replacement. An older woman who could make him feel safe and loved again.

— pairing: Aemond Targaryen x brothel worker!reader

— type: smut, dark

— word count: 4.9k

— tags/warnings: female!reader, DEAD DOVE: DO NO EAT, rough sex, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, mommy kink, breeding kink, breast worship, nipple licking, nipple play, overstimulation, pregnancy kink, dacryphilia, rough kissing, disturbed themes, age gap (older woman/younger man), Aemond is 19 and Reader is 29, biting, crying, pre-relationship, unhealthy relationships, referenced character death, Lucerys Velaryon mentioned, past underage sex, past child abuse, religious guilt and conflict, crisis of faith, blood licking, implied forced pregnancy, mommy issues, labor mentioned, implied Targtower Incest (mother/son) BUT NOT REALLY, implied Aemond Targaryen/Alicent Hightower BUT NOT REALLY, past Targcest (older sister/younger brother), past Aemond Targaryen/Helaena Targaryen, referenced non-consensual somnophilia, referenced rape/non-con, referenced breastfeeding, referenced lactation kink, minor Helaegon, Aegon Targaryen mentioned, past Aemond Targaryen/Madam Sylvi, underage dubcon, minor Alicent Hightower/Criston Cole, curse words, mild angst, ambiguous/open ending, switch!Aemond, sub!reader, canon divergence (Pre-The Dance of the Dragons), porn with plot. no use of y/n, english is not my first language.

— author's notes¹: I decided to explore Aemond's "mommy issues" side. There's no real incest between Aemond and Alicent, but I put it as a trigger warning because there are scenes about them that can be uncomfortable to read. And also because I see their mother and son relationship too complex and intense. In my opinion, Aemond had an adoration and love for his mother in the season one that the writers left aside during the season two.

— author's notes²: Furthermore, I believe that Aemond's loss of virginity with Madam Sylvi may also influenced a part of his weird behaviour. So this time I wrote about the consequences of this in Aemond's mind, even a few years later. I see what happened with him in the books/show as a real child abuse, so don't read this fic if you've triggers with these themes. I do not support any form of abuse, this is just fiction.

— crossposting: AO3

❥ about me • Aemond masterlist • HOTD masterlist • main masterlist

Aemond needed to vent. He needed some time away from all the chaos that must have been in the Red Keep since he confessed to killing Lucerys. Some time away from all the chaos he caused.

He remembered everything quite accurately. How he arrived at the castle with wide eyes and his body drenched, entering his mother's chambers without even knocking on the door. Alicent had let out a loud scream at the sudden appearance and covered her slim body with the white bedsheets. Despite there being no one there with her, his mother's body was sweaty and her cheeks were flushed, as if she had cum just a few minutes ago. At first he ignored the strange sight and muttered, with his voice trembling and weak, that he had become a kinslayer.

He remembered explaining confusingly how he was trying to scare Lucerys and ended up losing control of Vhagar, causing the old dragon to chew every bit of his nephew, only some remains of his tiny dragon falling from the sky.

He remembered Alicent widening her eyes, still covering her small breasts and telling Aemond to wait for her outside the room.

As much as he wanted to leave the place and wait for her in the hallway like the good son he had always been, Aemond nodded and left. Not just her chambers, but also the castle. He looked for any clothing that did not look so expensive as to give away his noble origins, and wore it along with a dark suit. He passed by Ser Criston Cole on the way out of the Red Keep, ignoring the fact that the guard's armor was not orderly as usual, and said something about needing to get some air away from there. Aemond did not wait for a response from the older man, knowing that it was only a matter of a few minutes for Alicent to look for Criston and tell him what her beloved boy had done.

Aemond was lost. He knew that.

As soon as Aemond entered the brothel, he looked everywhere for Madam Sylvi, his sweaty and trembling hands searching for the only woman who could perhaps help him.

When he was chasing Aegon together with Ser Criston to take him by force to his own coronation, he did not expect to be reunited with the prostitute who had taken his virginity. Aemond had an excellent memory and remembered that night very well, every second of that embarrassing moment. If he tried harder, Aemond could even feel Madam Sylvi's full lips around his still developing cock, or the way she lifted his wine-flushed face to her large breasts. Aegon demanded that she not be too soft with his younger brother, saying that a thirteen years old should already be brave enough to handle a little sexual intensity. However, the woman respected Aemond's nervousness and guided him calmly.

That night had not been so bad at all, even if he had not wanted it. He never returned to any brothel, his mother's disgusted reaction to Aegon's impulsive and selfish decision and her plea to Aemond not indulge in such promiscuity made him give up on going there again. He should do as she asked, marry a pretty noble lady and be a loyal husband, be Aegon's opposite.

He did not want to hurt his mother's feelings, he did not want her to look at him with the same look of disgust she gave her eldest son. He wanted to keep making Alicent proud, being her beloved son.

But Aemond had already failed with her the moment he decided to act like a spiteful boy and chase Lucerys through the skies. Now that he was a Kinslayer, his mother would fear him. She would be ashamed of him. I would see him as a murderer, cursing their whole family forever.

And if Aemond could not seek love from the only woman who would take him in her arms and caress his hair, then he needed to find a replacement. An older woman who could make him feel safe and loved again.

Perhaps Madam Sylvi could do that. When she spoke to Aemond when he and Ser Criston were looking for Aegon, she made it clear that he had grown up so well. She looked surprised, perhaps even horny.

Now, after six years without visiting the place, Aemond was there again. The place where he had promised his dear mother in the name of the Seven that he would never set foot again.

He needed to seek affection from Sylvi or another whore who would make him feel as loved as Alicent made him feel before he grew up. He needed to feel worthy and loved by a mother again.

That was a busy night at the brothel for you, too many clients for too few prostitutes to deal with them. Madam Sylvi warned the women that she would take a day off to rest, a privilege that only the oldest and most renowned courtesans were entitled to. Most of her favorite clients seemed angry about this fact, and even though you and the other girls explained the reasons as calmly as possible, no one cared about what you had to say.

Some people just rolled their eyes and walked away, others snorted and threw coins at you so you could do her job then, and some were even excited about fucking a different cunt.

It was not unknown to you why Sylvi had so many customers who frequented the place in search of her. She was very experienced, a beautiful older woman, with large hips and big breasts. She understood how to please men and even women, both sexually and emotionally.

"Where is Madam Sylvi?" A deep voice caught your attention from behind your shoulder, making you jump and widen your eyes, sighing embarrassed when you saw that it was just a customer.

"She is not here today, sir." You forced a smile, trying not to look too much at the eye patch the boy wore. It was strangely familiar and he had facial features that seemed more handsome than most of the men you served, even if he wore a hood that shadowed his details.

With a frown, the man clenched his jaw and muttered one more time. "I need her tonight. Right now."

You recognized almost all of Sylvi's frequent men, and that one was completely unknown to you. You bit your tongue to try not to question him about why he was so desperate to see the woman if he had never been there recently. However, you took a deep breath and forced another smile, your voice sweet and hiding your curiosity. "My apologies, sir, she is not here tonight. But you can look for another courtesan if you want to, we have many options." You reassured and tried to walk past him to go find another man or some woman who could pay you a few coins, before being stopped by the man's hand on your arm, keeping you close to him.

"Well, you are free to please me." It was not a question. He already knew you did not have any customers waiting. You stared at that violet eye for a few seconds, before swallowing hard, your throat hurting while you nodded, having no choice whatsoever. "Then get an empty, private room for us immediately."

You opened your mouth to explain that the isolated places required a greater amount of gold than the common services, but the man interrupted you, handing you a heavy bag full of coins that were almost slipping out of the opening. "I assume you will make it worth the price, woman."

The moment you and Aemond entered the isolated room, he watched you pulling the curtains until they closed, keeping the events that would follow there a secret from other people. Although you still did not realize who he really was, there was an expression on your face indicating that you were suspicious about something. Perhaps it was the money he was willing to spend without complaining during just one night with someone who was not even the courtesan he was looking for, perhaps it was the eye patch that left a little part of his scar exposed, perhaps it was the extremely pale skin...

It could be many things that were making you suspect there was something unusual happening.

When the other prostitutes finished pouring some wine into two glasses and warming the place with candles, Aemond finally cleared his throat, almost as if he were embarrassed or did not know what to do.

"How old are you?" He asked in a more vulnerable voice than he intended, cursing himself for it.

Your brow furrowed at the rude question. There were men who sought out younger and less experienced whores to satisfy some dark desires, but you doubted that was the case. "Twenty-nine, sir."

Aemond sighed and nodded, satisfied with the answer. You might not be as old as Madam Sylvi or Alicent herself, but you were a maturer age than his. It made him less tense. "Good... That is good." He muttered, his single eye directed to the ground when some thoughts shuffled through his mind. A part of Aemond hated himself for having listened to his mother's advice to never set foot in a brothel again. Now, he was ten and nine and barely knew how to talk to a whore, while Aegon must have already fucked even the one he was about to try something on. "Has King Aegon II already enjoyed your services?"

His words caught you off guard, making you fidget with some discomfort, sitting on the mattresses around the floor, your robe tied and expecting anything other than that. "I cannot expose any of my clients' secrets, much less our King."

Aemond hummed without surprise, already expecting an empty answer like that. He took off the hood that shadowed the most part of his face, revealing his long silver hair tied with a not very effective ponytail and the violet eye that shone much brighter now without the dark fabric that made you unable to noticed the true color.

You did not have to be so smart to know the man in front of you was a Targaryen. A Targaryen prince. Perhaps...

"Aemond." His name dripped from your lips like the sweetest honey. "Aemond Targaryen."

The prince maintained his look of neutrality and almost disdain, nodding and then shrugging. "Or Aemond One-Eye, like some people call me. Your King Aegon is my older brother." Due to your lack of response and your wide eyes, Aemond sighed. "And I asked you a question about my brother. Are you going to answer it or not, woman?"

"He... He never fucked me, Your Grace. During the few times I saw him around here, he was either too much drunk or already busy with another courtesan."

That was good. Someone untouchable by Aegon. Not like his mother, who had given birth to Aegon three years before him, contaminating her precious womb with that bitter soul she one day carried, swearing that her firstborn would become an ambitious and noble-hearted boy, worthy to sit in the Iron Throne.

You also would not be like Madam Sylvi, who had already slept with Aegon several times even before his brother forced him to wet his cock inside her during his thirteenth name day.

You were... Pure. Not for the eyes of the world, which saw you as a mere whore, a hole for fun. You were pure for Aemond's eyes. You were untouchable by Aegon's filthy hands. You could be like a mother to Aemond. Hold him like Alicent had held him when he was a child, you could let him fuck you like Madam Sylvi had done when he was just a little boy...

You could be whatever Aemond asked you to be. His whore for some minutes but his mother afterwards. It will be a way to distract himself from what he had done to his nephew. A way to justify his impulsive actions that were about to declare war.

Aemond thought to himself if he should let it all out and just leave later on. That was what he planned to do with Madam Sylvi, even though she was attractive and hot.

Gods, he should not even be there, with the curtains closed and an older but kind woman waiting for him sitting on the mattress, your robe tied carelessly so you could seduce the customers who saw the smooth and transparent silk cloth covering just a little of your beautiful body. He should be with his mother, asking for forgiveness due the war he would cause, begging for the kisses on the forehead that she used to give him when he was younger.

Aemond should just turn around and leave. Leave and wait for Sylvi the next night.

Or rather, he should leave that dirty place forever and go to the Septa to seek forgiveness for his terrible behavior and quick promiscuous solutions.

Of course Aemond should do anything like this. And yet he did not. There was something interesting about being there, analyzing you as if you were fresh meat. Analyzing every detail like he did when he was buying some wooden toys for his nephews Jaehaerys and Jaehaera.

He was analyzing everything with precision, and was enjoying every bit of that vision. "Tell me your name." He crossed his arms, none of his clothes other than his hood were off his body.

You bit the lip before whispering your name and repeating it later, along with your last name. The prince nodded, humming the name on his mouth to test the sound. Enjoying the result, Aemond gestured to your robe and you immediately obeyed his nonverbal demand, untying the knot and letting the thin fabric fall around the mattress, your bright eyes lifting so you could see how the Targaryen prince was reacting.

With flushed cheeks and arms crossed again, Aemond walked a little closer to you, steady and slow steps until he was face to face with you. His index finger lifted your chin with a calm that was the opposite of everything you were used to in the brothel. You even believed that he could treat you really well, unlike other rude customers. But your hope disappeared the moment he grabbed your cheeks, his short nails digging into your skin and forming tears in the corners of your eyes.

"I need... I guess I need to take my emotions out on something. On Someone."

You did not dare blink, muttering an agreement and not resisting when the prince pushed you to lie down. His body was warm, unlike his hands that was cold from sweat. You remained in the position Aemond had placed you in, lying beneath him with your legs spread to let him take control if he wished.

Aemond's heart beat fast, knowing this would be the second time he was about to fuck a woman. The second time he was going against the Faith of the Seven, against his mother's requests. Hurting the feelings of the woman he loved most and probably amusing his older brother, who should have been laughing and drinking, finding it funny that Aemond had not only killed his own nephew due some petty revenge, but was also now enjoying the pleasures he had always despised.

"Do you need help, Your Grace?" You worked up the courage to ask the prince as you noticed how his fingers were a pathetic mess, unable to undo the ties on his own pants after he freed himself from the tunic.

Aemond wanted to tell you to fuck off. To tell you to be quiet and let him fuck your cunt until it is dripping with his seed. Until you are pregnant with a silver-haired bastard. He wanted to humiliate you like Aegon did to all whores.

But for the Seven Gods' sakes... He did not want to be like Aegon anymore.

"I do not know!" Aemond shouted, breaking the silence of the private room. He stopped trying to get rid of his clothes and turned his body to the other side. His heart felt like it was about to explode, his hands were trembling again and his legs were weak. Aemond's head ached like the Seven Hells and he had not drunk any drop of wine that the other courtesans had left there for the two of you. "Gods! I thought this would help me, but I can barely get my fucking cock out!"

Your body moved closer to his, pressing your face against Aemond's warm and bare back. His breathing became more erratic when you remained quiet, but brushed the tip of your nose against his skin as if you were a kitten.

Aemond opened his mouth to scold you for your childish action, and then closed it. There was something different about your silent actions. You did not judge him for being there, you did not mock him when he failed to drop his pants and fuck you fast like any man in their right minds would do. Aemond was far from a sane man and it did not take long for you to notice that.

Even though he was fully aware that you might change your mind about him when you learned the truth of what he had done to his own half-sister's son, Aemond let out a sigh of relief. Neither of you moved the bodies, feeling something good from that whole complex situation.

Then Aemond turned to you, his eye filled with tears that he cursed himself for letting escape. His palm went to your chin, holding it softer than he had done before. It was gentle and almost delicate now. Everything he liked to be for his mother. A good boy. A good son.

The prince looked down at your naked body, your breasts so inviting to him that he did not think twice and immediately touched them, squeezing the soft flesh with an inexperience that was cute to you. Aemond only felt the smoothness of a female chest three times during his entire life.

One of them was when he was just four years old and he was jealous of his mother breastfeeding his youngest brother Daeron after his birth. So he touched Alicent and asked for her milk too, which was denied and he spent hours crying until he got distracted by some wooden toy that which the maids brought at Alicent's request, to entertain the greedy little boy as quickly as they could. After that, Daeron began to be fed by a wet nurse and Aemond never noticed his mother's breast milk again.

The second time was when Helaena was pregnant with the twins Jaehaera and Jaehaerys. Aemond was still an innocent twelve years old boy and was very curious seeing how the girl's breasts were suddenly bigger due to the breast milk. His youthful curiosity got the better of him and he took advantage of the fact that his older sister always let him sleep next to her when Aegon was busy fucking whores in the brothels. He snuggled into a hug with Helaena as she slept and pulled the neckline of her nightgown aside, playing with his thumbs on her nipples until they were leaking white and sweet drops.

Unfortunately for Aemond, Aegon arrived drunk just as he was sucking Helaena's nipples, being breastfed like a baby. Aegon laughed loud at the scene. Aemond's cute lips were so wet with his sister's milk and his face was reddish like a strawberry, body shaking as he explained himself in the least convincing way possible. But fortunately for Aemond, Helaena did not wake up and probably never found out about his immoral act. Or at least he preferred to believe that she never found out about that.

Despite having begged for forgiveness at the Septa so many times, Aemond was dragged against his own will by his older brother to a brothel to celebrate his thirteenth name day. He did not want none of that and he was angry with Aegon, but also scared of the whole situation that would develop, even if a part of him wondered if this was some divine punishment he deserved for taking advantage of his dear sister's innocence during her sleep.

The night of the loss of his virginity had been the third and until then the last time that Aemond touched any intimate part of a female body, his young and plump face buried in the middle of Madam Sylvi's large chest.

He had promised to the Gods that he would only do something like that again with his future wife. But here he was, thumbs rolling your hard beaks and making you gasp. Aemond may not have been sexually experienced like his brother Aegon, and not like his uncle Daemon or his sluttly half-sister Rhaenyra, but he was a quick learner with a good memory.

He remembered Madam Sylvi encouraging him to pay a special attention to her nipples using his mouth, and Aemond was eager to follow that old lesson. Wrapping one of your beaks with his lips, Aemond licked you like a hungry man, his tongue swirling around it and then nibbling.

Every muffled moan that left your lips was like music to the Prince's ears.

Once your breasts were completely soaked with Aemond's spit and red marks from the bites he gave you, Aemond smirked satisfied, the desperation that was taking over his mind disappearing and giving space to the lust building up inside his veins.

He spread your legs like he watched Aegon do with the maids when they were both younger, smirking at the view of your wet cunt, the pubic hair glistening with your own juices. "Fuck, you are really dripping. I thought you whores got paid to pretend, not to actually enjoy it."

You moaned at his mockery. In fact, you did not usually feel pleasure with your customers, even the most frequent ones who were not rough to you. They always focused on themselves, not really caring if what you were feeling was pleasurable or not.

But Aemond Targaryen was different. He was appreciating your body, hands on your breasts as if you were an anchor keeping him safe, face in front of your legs, excited to devour you and satisfy all his hunger.

Aemond Targaryen barely seemed to see you as a whore. He seemed to be seeing you as a woman he wanted to worship more than anything. Almost like a...

"Do you have children?"

The prince was full of random questions, and it was another one of the moments when he crossed an unusual line. Why the hells was this important? Was he some boring man who wanted to have sex just with not so experienced whores? Was he disgusted by pregnancies?

"I do. I have... two kids."

The words was almost impossible to hear. Anyone would tell you to repeat what you said. Anyone could be angry due the answer. Anyone but Aemond Targaryen. The prince's keen hearing caught your words perfectly, a smirk of relief and excitement pulling at his lips.

It was perfect. Almost too perfect to be true.

It did not matter where your children were now. It did not matter if they might be suffering from having a mother working in a brothel to be able to feed them with the bare minimum. All that mattered to Aemond at that moment was that you had two children. Just like Alicent had Aegon and Helaena before he was born.

He could pictured himself coming out of his mother's womb. She always said that Aemond was the most painful birth of all, as the boy came out of her womb with such eagerness that the midwives swore it almost caused a hemorrhage inside Alicent's cunt. While Aegon's birth had been traumatizing due to the fact that it was Alicent's first time going through that labor experience, Helaena's birth was soft. The little girl was born so silent that for a few seconds the Queen feared she had been born dead, but Helaena cried when Alicent began to sob, as if she was feeling her mother's emotional pain.

Aemond remembered how his mother described the birth of each of them, even Daeron, who was the fastest of all to be born. And one thing Aemond would never forget was how his mother described his birth.

Alicent said it was like giving birth to a dragon. She felt like she was being ripped from the inside out and for a moment she could swear that little Aemond enjoyed hearing her screams of pain while the midwives were desperate to help stop the bleeding. She said he stopped crying immediately, the sounds of her suffering calmed him.

If he came out of Alicent's body like a dragon whelp, then he would come into yours with all the Targaryen fire inside his veins too. The true perfect replacement for her mother could handle anything. Perhaps he could really trust you to vent and look for affection if you also saw him as your and Alicent's third children. The most devout and the most feared. He could be that for both of you.

Six years ago, Aemond had no awareness about how to please a woman. He was sure that Sylvi had pretended to cum so that he would not feel so humiliated, not that it mattered anyway, since Aemond had not lost his virginity by choice and Madam was already used to faking pleasure reactions for the vast majority of men who visited her brothel. However, there with you, after not knowing how to deal with the chaos tormenting his own mind, Aemond allowed himself to lower his head and get between your legs, rubbing his tongue on the swollen bud that he knew what it was based on what it was written in the forbidden books of the library in the castle.

At first, the movements of his tongue were disorganized and uncomfortable, and you tried to guide his head, but Aemond bit your thigh, drawing some blood from you and hearing you cry out. Aemond did not care about any of that, licking up the red drops that dripped down and going back to licking your clit, taking a little more care than before, understanding that he had done something wrong. He made his tongue less pointy and flattened it better, rubbing it against your cunt and giving gentle licks, eating out the juices that dripped from your wet hole and then moving it up to focus on your clit, trembling moans escaping you while you rolled the eyes at the sensation.

Your thighs trembled and your back arched upward, forcing Aemond to grip your legs to keep your body down, the wet sucking noises buzzing in his ear when you had the first release.

Aemond did not wait you to recover yourself from your high. He kept your legs open with one of his large hands, the other undoing the ties of his pants more quickly than during the first attempt, throwing them to the side and caressing his hard cock. You looked at his muscular torso and looked down at his long legs and the dark hair on his groin.

You did not even need to entertain him with false praises or get him drunk with the wine the other prostitutes prepared for the two of you. Aemond was ready for it and ignoring his own nervousness.

He spat into his palm, pressing his arousal one last time and finally slamming into you, the abrupt stretch hurting your cunt, lips parted and eyes widening when Aemond ignored your brief pain and started moving his hips, letting out low guttural growls at the feeling of your tight warm walls crushing him.

"Your Grace..." You moaned in a mix of pleasure and discomfort, the thrusts hitting the soft part of your cervix and making you see stars.

Aemond smirked at your incoherent moans, lowering himself until his face was close to yours, capturing your mouth in an aggressive kiss, uncoordinated tongues together, teeth practically devouring each other's lower lip. The exchange of saliva tasted like blood and your own cum.

He had not felt the sensation of being inside a woman in so many years that the pleasure was almost like losing his virginity for a second time. It was intense, strange and desperate. He needed more. He needed to fuck you deep inside, until you were like Alicent, carrying a part of him in your womb.

The faster he got closer to his orgasm, the more Aemond's low growls became whispers begging the Gods for forgiveness and also tearful moans calling you his mother. Prayers and cries coming from a filthy sinner in search of redemption, or from an innocent little boy who needed the love of the woman who gave birth to him.

With each violent thrust inside your tight and sore cunt, Aemond pictured a little silver-haired boy coming out of you after nine moons and destroying you just like he had done to Alicent during his own childbirth.

Now that the only woman who ever loved him with her entire body and soul saw him as a monster, Aemond wished that future routine nights with you in the brothel could fill the void inside his heart. However, deep down Aemond knew that no one could ever love him more than the woman who brought him into the world. For Aemond, failing Alicent was worse than failing the Gods. And there was no divine or maternal forgiveness for a murderer.

[kens-ramblings]

ALSO in the background we got bruce and dick being able to process what tim is saying bc,,, he’s not trying to fight them yk?? and they are like,, average day in the batcave the kids are fighting lalala,,,, WHAT DOES TIM MEAN HE WAS TRAINED BY LADY SHIVA???? WHEN WAS THAT?? RA’S WANTS HIS BABIES???? HES LIKE 600??????? bc it’d add to the humor :D

like tim damian and jason are on the mats, tim is rocking their shit and in the background you just see bruce and dick frantically typing on the batcomputer trying to figure out the who what when where and why of tim’s training origins and also,,, now that they think about what tf WAS tim up to on his bruce quest?? they never did talk about that did they,,, WHAT DO YOU MEAN TIM DOESNT HAVE A SPLEEN??? and other various chaos ensues about disclosing information when you come back from missions because wtf do you mean you didn’t think it was important tim??? you were like twelve and training with assassins??? you literally lost an organ how does that NOT matter??? it doesn’t matter you put it in the report YOU KNOW we only go back to those if it gets brought up for another case because we all expect each other to SHARE IMPORTANT INFORMATION TIM!!! WTF

dick specifically: wait a damn minute run it back,, bruce,,, what was that bit about tim’s training with YOU???? let’s watch these vids back rn? bc if he’s saying what i think he’s saying,,,

tim and bruce scrambling to explain that they had a BIG talk about what happened during tim’s training and how not okay it was a LONG time ago and it is all cool now before a fight of astronomical proportions breaks out

so ik it’s not cannon accurate but,,,

i need a fic of tim just crashing out.

like he gets so sick of like damian and jason talking about how weak he is and shit like that that he’s like “yall realize lady shiva was my one of my FIRST teachers, and i was the first robin she trained. i had to train under b AFTER he already lost a robin. you DONT think he was 10x harder on me than any of you guys???? there’s a reason my training videos are mainly redacted without bruce’s or my permission. i got ra’s al ghul BEGGING ME to join his league or have my children. i get gifts from him WEEKLY. do you KNOW how many of his little ninja i fight per DAY??? nahh im sick of this shit let’s take it to the mats” and just demolishing both of them at the same time.

i just think it’d be very funny. i just like fics of people who pretend to be weaker than they are(or they just never really have a reason to go full tilt so they just don’t) get sick of holding back and just losing it :D

[amorchai]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒.

this is a repost from my old blog. original post was 1,186 notes.

pairing(s): steve harrington x shy!reader

words: 1705

warnings/tags: best friends to lovers, mentions of food, shy!reader.

“stevie?” you ask into the empty air, tearing your eyes away from the view in steve’s passenger seat as you previously pondered silently. “mhm?” is all he mumbles back, to show he’s listening while scooping another spoonful of the chocolate ice cream from his tub.

you weren’t sure why you were having ice cream on a cold winter’s night, but steve had suggested it and you never tend to question steve’s random motives as such. your half-eaten raspberry tub rests on your lap, slightly melted from neglect during the reverie you coaxed yourself into. parked atop a hill overlooking the town below the moonlight.

you don’t continue at first, looking down to your knee which now bounces anxiously. and with the extra space of silence, steve looks up from his ice cream, eyes peeking beneath the strands of hair that poke his face.

sitting the tub into one cup holder, steve moves back against his seat, one hand beginning to drum the steering wheel aimlessly while he watches your body language. “you don’t like it? thought it was one of your favourites?” steve continues worriedly, and nods towards the dessert in your hands.

you shake your head, ushering it into the cup holder beside his with a very small, “no, no. i do… i’ll have it in a second.”

“okay.”

the car falls silent again, steve watches as you slump against your seat and lose yourself in the view again. however, steve can tell it isn’t the landscape you’re thinking of, but if only he could pinpoint exactly what you were thinking.

penny for your thoughts, steve thinks and hesitates upon saying. in the end leaving you be at first, instead reaching a hand over to your restless knee and it suddenly stops moving. steve squeezes it affectionately, a small message that he’s still listening as he turns down the radio ever so slightly.

“what was your first kiss like?” you splutter all of a sudden, voice quiet and a deep nervous inhale following. steve wasn’t expecting it, eyes blinking and eyebrows raising as he processes the question. he taps your knee once more before moving his hand back to his lap, and you immediately miss the warmth.

“eighth grade with vanessa johnson. i freaked out so bad i bit her lip and she never spoke to me again.”

with steve’s statement you giggle. of course he did just that. “you bit her?” you repeat, hand covering your mouth as more laughter falls from your lips, and steve joins you with an amused nod, “sure did.”

your hand falls from your mouth while you lean your head back to face the car roof, laughter slowly falling back down and steve can only watch you with the fondest smile. “do you bite every girl you kiss?”

“no. funnily enough it was an accident and she hated my guts for it,” steve responds to your teasing with another chuckle emitting his throat. your head tilts to the side, cheek pressed to your shoulder as you look over at him, his gaze intoxicating as he smiles so warmly towards you.

“i got much better, y’know?” steve smirks, ego boosting himself. “i know,” you reply without thinking and steve pulls a face, confusion and amusement packed into one before nudging your arm gently, “what do you mean you know?”

you laugh again, embarrassed and quietly when you reply, “high school girls locker room. steve harrington was the topic of conversation most days before gym class for the popular girls.” steve grimaces, unamused and worried about the fact that you had heard those conversations about steve’s kissing techniques.

“god, high school. don’t miss it a bit.”

you don’t reply. looking out the passenger door window and to the couple of cars upon that side, distractedly staring as you sigh sadly. and steve’s not an idiot. he’s your best friend and also someone who’s been infatuated with you for years, he can tell what you’re thinking this time.

“it’ll happen, you just need to find the right person.”

your first kiss. still in your twenties without having ever kissed someone, while others around you were now in serious relationships.

you close your eyes and sigh at steve’s words. that’s the problem; you have always had the right person but you’re too terrified to make the first move. the unbearable fear that steve wouldn’t like you back was excruciating while he dated several girls during your friendship that you hoped he would be brave enough to do something instead.

maybe he just wasn’t interested in you that way. since he had no problem asking all those other girls out, as far as you can tell.

“i have an idea.”

steve’s quiet and patient to match your timid voice, you can usually get more shy in conversations you’re scared of and he’s willing to hear you out. but when is he never. “yeah?” is all he asks, practically a whisper.

your words get lodged in your throat, how are you supposed to ask your best friend to kiss you? that’s not easy. what if he hates you after? what if he thinks you’re impatient? or what if it ruins your friendship?

you wave yourself off, cringing on yourself and about to change the subject completely while leaning a hand down for your tub of ice cream but steve grips your hand and bends his head down to meet your gaze.

“hey, hey, hey. you can tell me your idea. i won’t judge you.”

“i don’t know, steve, i—” steve turns, his body facing yours while he grips your other free hand and you follow his movements to face him more clearer. the car light was on while you previously ate and it illuminated the tanned skin upon his face, showing off the sweet dark freckles spotted across his cheek and neck. 

“i know who i want to be my first kiss.”

your forehead falls into you and steve’s held hands, embarrassed while a small ‘o’ shape forms on steve’s mouth as he thinks. “oh,” is all steve says, a pang of hurt sprawling across his chest rapidly at the realisation of... someone. someone.

before you can lift your head to ramble an apology about how stupid it is, steve beats you to it by holding onto his pride and storing away his sadness. “any guy would be so lucky to have you, yeah? so lucky, baby. and if you know who you want to be your first kiss, i say go for it.”

steve’s ready to continue, busy trying to seem like he’s okay with this idea and not noticing that you lift your head back up to look at him properly. he doesn’t notice the way you squeeze his gripping hands or giggle at his rushed voice, he doesn’t notice anything until you say, “steve.”

it’s quiet. your voice barely audible but steve thanks his good hearing because he immediately cuts himself off to listen to you. your faces are close, his pupils rapidly moving when they scan over your features as if he’s figuring out what you’re trying to say.

“what, baby?”

“steve.” you say again, tone knowing and desperate and almost a hint of feeling shameful and steve’s eyes widen when yours fleet to his lips for the shortest second. this can’t be real, steve thinks. there’s no way.

you huff when he still sits still, hands keep holding yours tightly, “don’t make me say it,” you whine and steve chuckles. he tilts his head down, forehead pressed against yours as he replies, “oh, but i want you to say it. please say it.”

you can feel the warmth spread to your face as another shy whine threatens to break your throat, but just as you move your head in an attempt to tuck it into his neck, steve’s hands are shuffling from yours so he’s cupping your face.

“it’s okay, baby. it’s okay. i can do it, i’ll gladly do it. if you want me to?” his thumbs swipe your skin so delicately and his eyes are gazing with such a genuine stare that you feel you might crumble. with a nod, there’s a strangled sentence you let out, “y-yes. i do, stevie.”

he chuckles once more, a mixture of how cute he thinks you are but also in disbelief that he’s about to kiss you.

steve’s so slow, head tilting as he leans forward so his nose runs across your skin and you can feel the ghost of his lips closer and closer. in a warm daze, you whisper into the cold car when steve’s lips touch the corner of yours, “don’t bite me.”

you feel the curve of his smile while his nose drags down your face so he’s tucked under your jaw, both of your chests heaving with laughter. your hands reach up so they are holding onto his wrists, and he looks back up at your cupped face, “no promises, you’ll probably taste of raspberry ice cream.”

this time steve’s patience isn’t as strong, leaning forward to crash his lips against yours in what you believe will be most breath-taking kiss you could ever receive. corners of both your lips threaten to smile as you feel the sparks within your chest and squeeze the skin of his wrists.

he tastes of chocolate from his ice cream and the coffee he had earlier on and you go light-headed at the thought, never wanting to pull away. he’s so sweet and slow, lips guiding yours against his so tenderly that you pray to god it won’t be the last steve harrington kiss you receive.

you both reluctantly pull away, lungs begging to be filled with air but steve only pulls away for a moment before pecking your lips again. your mind feels foggy from the gesture that you almost don’t notice the nip to your bottom lip as steve pulls away.

you gasp mockingly, opening your eyes with steve’s smug smirk, turning his palms from your face so he can hold yours again, resting them against your lap. “i was right,” steve says, leaning forward when you dip your head to contain your happiness.

“you taste like raspberries,” steve murmurs just as happily against your lips.

amorchai masterlist . taglist form

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[yoru-no-seiiki]

tagging @onyanjune and @h0ly-l3mb for giving me the idea/motivation to do this lol

link to original post here

tw/cw: MDNI or you WILL be blocked, DDDNE, (skip for spoilers) yandere! reader, mentioned non/dub con, mentioned filming of said non/dubcon.

yan! cool kid has two siblings, your upperclassman and underclassman respectively. and it hella irritates him how close you are to the two.

ofc yan! reader’s intentions have and will always be depraved yearning. they only befriended the pair for the sake of “getting close to the in-laws.” after all you wouldn’t be a good future spouse if you weren’t somewhat involved in the family side of things.

but your tunnel vision sort of . . . backfired.

“quite a bunch of lunches you’re packing.” he mumbled, raising his head from his arms after a thorough nap through class. he had already studied everything that subject had to offer and thoroughly memorized it thanks to his notes that were covered in photos of you.

“oh these? these aren’t just for me, silly.” you answered. he already knew what you were planning, and you already knew that he knew, but keeping this façade of normalcy was a game you two liked to play, “you haven’t been bringing food to school recently i’ve noticed. so i made some more to share.”

“just one?”

you blinked at him, confused. laughing after you realize where his eyes were focused on. you explain that the rest will be going to his siblings, since you thought it may be a household / financial problem.

soon after that you took off, trying your best to hide the giddy feeling in your body threatening to spill unto your facial expressions.

yan! cool kid stares at his brand new lunch and wonders if you also cut out heart shaped potato for their curries, planning out ways to torture yan! loser later

yan! loser who’s yan! cool kid’s younger brother. they look so different, their demeanors even further apart. the only way you knew they were related was cause you stalked the latter on his way back home and almost killed the former before you found out.

you dropped by his class with a smile. his classmates staring at you with wide eyes as those in higher levels rarely ever go to this section of school.

“i hope you don’t mind, but i made lunch for you. is that okay?”

“is ThaT okAy?” he parroted back at you, his voice cracking, nerves on edge at all the people staring at the situation. he was going to eat lunch alone in the bathroom again like always but was occupied with erasing the marks left by his bullies on the table.

you laugh at his response, and set the lunch you prepared on his table.

you stare blankly at the brutal remarks written across. silently you walked outside before coming back with a spare table. you frown as the food you left remained untouched.

“you should eat first. lunch won’t last forever.”

you pat the poor boy’s back and left.

one last delivery til you were done.

you breathed in, knocking the door to the student council’s room. “mr. president, it’s me.”

“come in.”

yan! school president doesn’t even raise his head to look at you. his focus remaining on the papers in his hand and table. “leave the lunchbox there.” the bespectacled man points to your table in the room.

you set it down obediently and walked out. at least, you tried to until he stops you. “before you go, tell me why i shouldn’t report your actions to the faculty.”

you don’t turn around from the door, but still you answer, “hm, actions?”

“you, using school funds to pay for my youngest brother’s harassment.”

“…mmm…” you turned around, placing a hand on your chin in feigned deep thought “because . . . you love love love me?”

yan! president sighed. you hear paper shredding.

“you may go.”

you giggled. stepping outside of the stuffy room to go finally see your beloved again in class.

you put a hand in your pocket and fished out your phone. briefly smiling at the home screen wallpaper of yan! cool kid and quickly tapping out the password.

you then delete the video of yan! president tying you up as his unclothed hips slammed into yours. your skin covered in bites and slap marks all over. your eyes converging fear as tears fell and your mouth was gagged and unable to voice the feeling. the once prim and proper man man groaning in ecstasy and yelling words of degradation as he defiled you.

but you could only cringed at the words “i love you.” escaping his lips.

“a little reward for mercy i suppose.”

you stuff your phone back into your pocket. wondering if you should also warn him about the laxatives.

[jeoncasino]

Prospects

⋆ †₊ 0.1

Tired of life and all it had to bring for you, things take a turn when you find out two of your friends start to take a liking to you. With newfound emotions and a whole lot of drama, what happens when they start competing for your love?

Pairings: JJK x fem! reader [x KNJ]

Genre: college au, love triangle, friends to lovers, fluff, angst, slow burn, eventual smut.

Tags: rich! jjk, law student! jjk, dark hair! jjk, sweet! jjk, jealous! jjk, needy! jjk, obsessed! jjk, but also dom! jjk, slightly toxic! jjk, english major! knj, boy bsf! knj, co-worker! knj, husband material! knj, brown hair! knj, sweet! knj, jealous! knj, sad knj:(, pet names, everything’s so complicated and everyone’s in denial, jk's love language is physical touch and acts of service, jk has mommy issues so he's too attached to oc, joonie is so sweet i feel bad for him, gguk will try everything in his power to make oc his, ggukkie lowkey hates joonie lol, this is an actual slow burn yay!

Warnings: mentions of drug use.

⋆ †₊ Series Masterlist

Minors do not interact.

Smoke surrounds you. For a moment, the noises and lights from the party, once a chaotic blend, seperate distinctly. Each sound creates its own frequency, each beam of light cutting through the haze in sharp lines. Everything around you slows down, the moment captivating you in a trance that would otherwise not been achieved without smoking a certain plant.

Elaine, your best friend, who was sitting to your left, seems to be talking to you. You can't quite grasp what she's saying, but she leaves shortly afterward, leaving you alone in the beautiful backyard of this otherwise dirty frat house. You really were avoiding going inside—the floors were sticky, and it smells funky. Honestly, you didn’t even want to be there. Frat parties aren’t your thing. But Elaine, in apparent need of de-stressing (though later confessing she just wanted to see her latest infatuation, Zia), had dragged you out on a Thursday night. You thought about getting mad and leaving, but she’s your best friend—and every guy here looks like they’d spike her drink—so you stayed. Plus, she bought you a blunt, so it evened out.

As you gazed at the dark-glowing canvas of the night sky, you felt a presence beside you. Skeptically, you glanced to your right, only to find a man staring at you. You jumped.

“Oh my god?” you gasp, eyes wide, hand over your heart.

The guy laughs, clearly amused by your reacton. Trying to figure him out, you took a look at him. He wore a loose white shirt and baggy jeans. Dark hair framed his face. Two rings pierced the right side of his mouth, his right arm covered in tattoos. Honestly, you felt intimidated—frat parties drew all kinds of people, you know? But when you finally met his eyes, the softness of his gaze made him seem far more approachable then you originally thought.

“Will you quit staring?” He teased.

Your cheeks burned. “Oh please, I’m on drugs,” you muttered, looking away, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Oh, I know. Thought I’d join you on your trip.”

Confused, and extremely thirsty, you asked, “Who are you?”

“Seriously?” He replied, somewhat annoyed. “Jeon Jeongguk. We share a class—U.S History with Mrs. Webster,” He paused, anticipating an answer. He met silence. “No?”

You sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, but I’m too high to remember anyone from that class.” Thinking it over, you added, “Seriously, though, I don’t think I’ve ever talked to you.”

And that’s because you hadn’t. Jeongguk, though quite popular, found himself completely partner-less tonight. He didn’t like being alone, so when he spotted you, high and alone, he thought he’d try his usual trick with you—pretending he knew you from somewhere. It usually worked.

Not today though. At your response, he was utterly offended. Did you seriously not know who the Jeon Jeongguk was? Even he recognized you—the sharing a class part not being a lie—so it made no sense. Although, he didn’t know your name either, so maybe you did know him, just not his name, and the drugs are clouding him from your memory.

Yeah, he thought, it’s definitely the drugs. “Did you know marijuana causes memory issues?”

You snorted. “Just say you’re offended.”

He shrugged. “What’s got you all alone out here?”

“My horny friend, I guess.” You turn to face him. “You?”

“I was taught to never leave a pretty girl like you alone,”

“Okay, Mr. Charming, please be serious.”

He laughed. “My friends ditched me too.”

“Hm,” You didn’t know what else to say. Usually, you were good at small talk, but you were literally in cloud nine and too thirsty to properly think. “Do you mind getting me some water? I’ve got cotton mouth and don’t want to go inside.”

“It smells wierd doesn’t it?” He scrunched his nose as he replied. You nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

Many chit-chat’s and half a bottle of wine later—Jeongguk found it somewhere in the frat—you both bid goodbye with teary eyes and warm embraces, somehow convinced you’d never see each other again after this party. Both of you not letting go, Elaine and his friends have to literally pry you guys apart, causing everyone to fall comically like dominoes.

Attempting to open your eyes you rubbed them, immediately closing them as the morning sun assaults your vision. What even happened yesterday? Your head pounded, nausea swirled in your gut. You felt horrible. Trying to go back to sleep, you turned in your bed, feeling the dreaded build-up of saliva once you layed on your side. Uh-oh.

You rushed to your bathroom just in time.

“Elaine?” you half-yelled, wiping your mouth with your hand muffling your voice.

No response. You stumble out of your room and head for the kitchen. There, your find an already-ready best friend cooking god-knows-what.

Looking up at you, she said, “Good morning, Mrs. Jeon,” her tone dripping with mockery.

“What? Mrs. Jeon?” Confused, you try to piece together last night’s events, but it’s no use. Panicking, you exclaimed, “Oh my God, Elaine, what happened yesterday?!”

She looked at you unimpressed. “Oh, nothing much. Just that you and Jeongguk were all over each other yesterday!”

“Jeon who?” You asked.

“Be so serious right now,” She couldn’t believe you. “Y/n, he’s like, super well-known around campus. Rich as hell and a jerk.” She added, “Cheated on Jayla, rejected me when you bet me to hit on him for five dollars.” Elaine huffed with her arms crossed.

Recalling how hilarious that day was, you laughed so hard your headache worsened tenfold. “I might die if I keep laughing,” you stuttered, gripping the kitchen counter for dear life. “Is that why you don’t like him?”

“This isn’t funny! You guys made fools of yourselves last night. I genuinely thought he laced your drink.”

Drink. The word triggers flashes of last night—Jeongguk approaching you, him bringing you water, a bottle of wine somehow appearing in your hands. Blood drained from your face as you remembered how you parted ways—throwing yourself into his arms, him not letting go, literally shedding tears as Elaine dragged you out of the frat’s backyard.

You’ll make sure to never drink again after this.

“Elaine, did I really—”

“Yes, Y/n, you did! Do you know how embarrassing that was? Don’t even get me started on the reputation you just gained yourself.”

“What are you talking about?”

“All his closest friends were there,” she said, serving her plate with freshly cooked eggs. “They thought you guys fucked or something.”

“Ew?”

“Did you really?” The question almost offended you.

“Stop! God, no, obviously not,” you shuddered. “Just because we hugged?”

“No, because Jeon fucks everything he touches,” she replies matter-of-factly. “He also got a little possessive, he wouldn’t let go.”

“Of me?”

“Yeah, we all fell to the ground because y’all wouldn’t budge. My biceps are sore, no joke.”

You slumped against the counter, hiding your face in disbelief. “Wait so, now people think I’m easy?”

“Yes. Now let’s just hope the rumor didn’t spread outside the frats,” she said, walking out of the kitchen with her plate full of eggs. “People were watching, you know? I almost left you there with that whore. Anyway, you better get ready—your first class starts in 20.”

You sprint to your room.

“Thanks for saving me a spot.”

Namjoon lifted his backpack from the seat next to him as you slid into it, placing your own bag on the floor.

“No worries, buns,” he said, noticing your wet hair immediately. “Were you in a rush this morning?”

“Tell me about it,” you muttered, rubbing your temples.

“Did you have a night shift yesterday? I don’t recall scheduling you late this week.”

“No, it’s just that Elaine dragged me to this party and I—” You stopped yourself. Were you really going to expose your half-secret to Joonie out in the open? Nuh-uh. “I’m just so hungover. Let’s talk later. Focus on class.”

Although curious as to what happened last night that got you this flustered, Namjoon chose to not push the subject, both of you focusing now on whatever the professor was droning about.

You liked that he always walked you to class. Obviously if his class was far or if he got busy he wouldn’t, but for the most part he did. You found it chivalrous, a trait that most men nowadays lacked. That’s why you liked Namjoon—he was friendly but polite, not shy to ask about your personal life but never stepping any boundaries. Not to mention his other great qualities, like how intelligent or hard working he is. You both had gotten originally close through Yeyo’s café—he trained and guided you along the harsh path of being a first-time barista—and having worked most shifts together, you became each other’s favorite co-worker, mingling whenever and hanging outside of work at times. At these occasional dates, the both of you learnt you shared similar struggles, like not having anyone support you financially or having complicated relationships with your families. All these things made relating to him easier. He never failed to make you laugh or help you see the good in the bad, and for him you were grateful.

Now you’re here—two months later, at the same university—him walking you to class while you complained about the workload your professor just assigned.

“I mean is he kidding? Not everyone has free time like him. I’ve got work!”

“I think his wife’s divorcing him or something,”

You gasp. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled at your reaction. “You know the professor’s assistant?”

“Oh, the one who wants you?” you teased with a grin, wiggling your eyebrows playfully.

Namjoon elbowed you gently. “Stop it,” he muttered. You laughed at his flustered expression.

“Anyway,” he continued, eager to change the subject, “the other day, I stayed after class to ask her for some extra points, but she got off track and started telling me all sorts of things about him.”

“Like what?” you asked, leaning into him with interest.

“Why do you sound excited?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t act like you don’t indulge in professor drama,” you retorted, crossing your arms.

Namjoon chuckled. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

“I’m not mad,” you shot back, avoiding his gaze.

“Then why won’t you look at me?” he teased.

“Okay, fine! Just tell me what she said, please,” you pouted, grabbing onto his arm, feeling the firmness of his muscles. You knew that whenever you did this, he’d give in—like that one time at the fair when you’d been so thirsty you begged for a water bottle that cost him twenty bucks.

He sighed, giving in as expected. “Well, according to her, his wife wanted a Chanel bag, but the professor wouldn’t buy it for her. Then, she thought he was having an affair, so she looked through his things, but she found out he lied about how much money he’d inherited, so now she’s filing for divorce.”

“Gosh, I almost feel bad for him,” you said, the corners of your mouth lifting. “Almost.”

“Meanie,” Namjoon grinned and squeezed your nose.

“Hey! Stop, you’re—” About to punch him for ruining your makeup, he darted away as fast as he could.

“I’ll kill that motherfucker,” you muttered, opening the door of your next class.

“And I was like, are you dumb?” Elaine exclaimed through the phone.

After your last class, you decided you’d stop by the nurse’s office to get something that would soothe your headache, when you recieved a call from your best friend. Though spontaneous calls weren’t surprising, what she had just informed you was.

Apparently, she met up earlier with Zia, who had the audacity to ask her if she found it embarrassing to have a friend who had slept with Jeongguk. And obviously, her being the bestest, most protective friend ever, denied the rumors going around the frats in attempt of clearing your name.

As you walked out of the nurse’s office and into the bustling campus, she continued, “And I swear, in that moment, I was about to punch her. I mean, I always knew Zia was a little dense, but this? Ugh, it’s infuriating! I don’t even know why we fucked anymore.” She sighed heavily.

You found a bench under a large oak tree and sat down, needing to process everything. You’d been too busy with classes to think much about the previous night’s events, but now, with the day’s tasks behind you, the anxiety started creeping back in.

“Did you guys actually fuck yesterday?” you asked, leaning back against the bench.

“No, we had literally just fucked at the sorority, when she started asking dumb ass questions,” Elaine huffed. “I think I’m never finding love.”

“Don’t say that, E,” you replied, rubbing your temples. “You’ll figure it out, don’t worry.”

Elaine’s voice softened. “How are you holding up, though? I’m sorry for everything. I can’t help but feel responsible,” she added, and you could practically see her pouting on the other end of the line.

You took a deep breath. “Honestly, I was too busy this morning to even care, but now that I have time to think, I kind of just want to hide from everyone.”

“I’m sorry. I love you, okay? Don’t forget that.”

“I love you more.”

“Well I got to go, I’ll see you back at the apartment.”

Listening to the ring which notified the call was over, you finally had some time to process everything. Trying to find where you went wrong, the most controversial thing that happened all night was the fact that you were hanging out with… Jeongyeo? Or was it Jeongyu? Uh, you’ll make sure to ask Elaine later. Anyways, you saw no harm from having an innocent chat with him. All you did was drink with a rich frat college guy— and basically cry to each other but that was too embarrassing to even think about—so your ever crumbling reputation made no sense. You guys didn’t fuck, most certainly didn’t kiss, and by now the guy should’ve cleared the rumors, so why were they making such a fuss over it?

It was all so childish. Yet, despite your attempts to rationalize it, your stomach churned, your hands grew clammy, and your mind raced with anxiety. Every passerby seemed to stare at you with judgmental eyes.

You sighed deeply. This felt like high school all over again. You had to pull yourself together. If these people wanted to make a fuss over nothing and use you as their entertainment, then so be it. You had bigger things to worry about—like paying your bills or pursuing a career. So, with that, you decided to push the drama to the back of your head and refocus on what really mattered, finally finding peace once again in your mind.

And at peace you were.

At least that was the case until you got back home, because as soon as you walked into the apartment, Elaine rushed over, breaking the news to you. “Y/n, you won’t believe this. That miserable old landlord is raising our rent!”

You blinked, trying to process the new discovery. “What? Why?”

“I don’t know,” Elaine threw her hands up in frustration. “I begged him to exclude us from the raise, but he wouldn’t budge. He said it’s either pay up or move out.”

Trying your hardest not to kill him right now, you paused. What were you going to do now?

Trying to keep an optimistic outlook, you replied, “Look, I know it’ll be hard, but we can do this. Let’s just take extra shifts at work and start looking for an affordable place to stay at.”

She wasn’t sure about your proposition. You both worked long hours as is, not to mention how time consuming and disrupting it was for school.

“Y/n, we barely get to sleep some days,” Elaine said so lowly it was almost a whisper. Finding the situation impossible, she added, “I’m dropping out.”

You scoffed, “Are you crazy? You’re not doing that,”

“What else is there to do Y/n?” She frowned.

Lips pursed, you racked your brain trying to come up with a solution. Dropping out was not an option, and if keeping your education meant being homeless, then so be it. You both had a car, so maybe you guys could sleep there until you found a new place. And if you had to shower, you could probably just ask Namjoon if-

“Oh my god! Namjoon!” You yelled as you reached for your phone.

“What? Y/n what are you doing?”

Dialing Namjoon’s number, you replied with a smile on your face, “Pack your stuff, we’re crashing Joonies place.”

Author: pls this took me long enough to post and im not sure i even like it lmfoaoaoa. nobody told me how hard and time consuming this was. anyways yall if it sucks LMK ! i’ll make sure to burn this post down if it sucks ass. shout out to anyone who finished reading the first chapter of this series ! omm ilysm. i’ll also try to comment the people who wanted to be added to my taglist, hopefully it works. bye !

This is a work of fiction. The scenes, characters and events depicted are purely fictional and not intended to represent real-life procedures or individuals. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Do not use this story as your own.

@jeoncasino 2024 ©

[myownwholewildworld]

acta, non verba - i. a badge of honour

series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 2 pairing: conqueror!marcus acacius x ofc!reader. synopsis: scotland, 83 AD after the battle of mons graupius. the romans have come up to the boundaries of their empire with a relentless desire to conquer the savages that inhabit the highlands. they won't rest until the Caledonian tribes are subjugated. Marcus Acacius is in charge of your clansmen's fate, but if such fate is similar to your family's, you know you need to do something about it. as the only living daughter of the tribe chief, your people look to you for leadership. power plays, treason, deception, rebellion, war, love, heartbreak, betrayal. and two souls, destined to despise each other, trying to navigate it all. a/n: well, here it is! the first chapter of my new series, set in what is now scotland, during the romans' conquest of the british isles in the 1st century. hope you guys like it! as always, all interactions welcome. thank you so much for reading! <3 warnings: 18+, mdni. death, aftermath of a battle, burial of family members. reader is an original character - female, has a name (callie) and a physical description, family history, etc. i'll try to keep the references to a minimum though. age gap (callie is 26, marcus is 48). mention of infidelity and becoming a widow. marcus’ and reader’s pov. i have taken some historical licenses for ease of writing (use of "clan" as synonym for "tribe", references to irish/celtic gods, the caledonian people speak modern scottish gaelic instead of a (proto-)brittonic language). w/c: ~4.2k. dividers by @saradika-graphics i'll be tagging some people at the end of the chapter who interacted with this post. dw, i won't tag you in the next chapters unless you ask me to! also, if you want to be removed from this post, please send me a dm.

A light breeze whistled through the nearby standing stones. The dying sun provided no heat, and the ethereal landscape was cold with hues of blue and grey. Despite the shimmering wildlife that came with the first hints of spring, the meadow was uncannily silent.

The crows cackling in the distance broke such tranquil peace and woke you from your slumber.

Slowly you blinked, something wet and warm covering your eyelids. You felt it slide down your skin, pooling in the dip of your collarbone. Your limbs felt so heavy, you couldn’t lift a hand to rub your eyes clean. In fact, you were so tired that even taking a deep breath hurt.

Your orbs fluttered shut, shattered and defeated.

Dhuosnos, God of the Dead, was calling you to His side. His presence was soothing, so inviting, the most melodic sounds guiding you to Him. With the eyes of your dying imagination, He extended a welcoming hand towards you, a soft smile on His mythical features.

“Come with me, sweet child of the tribes.” A guttural voice escaped His lips, so dark and sombre it enveloped you.

You nodded, gaze down, submitted to Him.

“You can’t just take her, Dhuosnos. Callie is yet to avenge them — her purpose must be fulfilled first before she can greet you as an equal.” A second voice, feminine, otherworldly and reassuring, interrupted your exchange.

Morrígan, Goddess of War, placed Her hand on Dhuosnos’ forearm as to stop Him from reaching you. A stone of relief, but also of disappointment, sat low in your stomach when He took a step back, head bowed towards Her.

Steadily you undid your curtsy, your green eyes locking on Hers. They were black as the night sky, Her pupils and irises indistinguishable from one another. You looked into the abyss of Her sight and felt a deep-rooted longing, one you never experienced before.

“You are not done yet, mo leanabh (my child). Your people await your return.” Morrígan palmed your trembling hand, escorting you back to the earthly plane.

“But…”, you turned around to look at Her, ask for Her advice.

But She had already vanished, a sweet scent of lavander left behind.

You gasped awake, your eyes so widened, the cloudy, sunset sky above felt like it was crashing down on you. You were laying down on a pool of mud. A deep, raspy grunt escaped your lungs as you tried to move your arms. When you couldn’t, you looked down, confused.

Aengus’ lifeless body was resting on top of yours. Your father’s henchman had made the ultimate sacrifice by hiding you underneath him, away from the prying eyes of the Romans. The dense liquid caressing the skin on your face was none other than his blood. A trickle of thick red dripped from the gnarly wound in his neck on to your cheek. His eyes were staring at you emptily, his soul had already left this world when you regained consciousness.

Your father, Murdoch of Inbhir Nis, the Caledonian Overlord, had come to the aid of the Taexalian Overlord, whose territory was succumbing to the legions of Gnaeus Julius Agricola, a Roman governor with a high desire to impress his Emperor, Titus Flavius Domitianus.

Your father had gathered as many fighers as the Caledonian lands could give him. Both men and women were called to arms when the tribes were threatened. Being the daughter of the Chieftain would not spare you. You would not have chosen differently anyway, had you been given the opportunity. Fighting for land, clan and honour was your duty as much as your brothers’ and sister’s.

The journey from Inbhir Nis (Inverness) to Cala na Creige (Stonehaven) had been unforgiving, with illness and evil lying in wait. But you all had been warmly welcomed by the Taexali tribe and were fed copiously, the uisge-beatha (whisky) being served like water.

Your combined armies, shy of fifteen thousand folk, had been ambushed at Raedykes during a repositioning exercise by the Roman troops led by Agricola’s most trusted man.

General Marcus Acacius.

His mere name made you sick, anger crawling under your skin.

Fighting off your own opponents, you had seen the Roman General charge against your father like a beast, wielding a gladius over his head. The metallic impact of their swords rang loud across the landscape. The men looked into each other’s souls, an exchange of words shared between them. You were too far to listen, too far to fully see what was really happening as warriors from both sides danced through the grass.

Then you foresaw it before it happened: the heavy Roman sword fell on your father, who was struck to his knees with the General’s blade lodged in his belly.

You tried to get to him, screaming “Athair (father)!” at the top of your lungs. His eyes locked on yours before he fell sideways. You lunged forward but didn’t get to him, Aengus stopping you in your tracks.

“No, Callie, it’s too late now”, he had sorrowfully whispered in your ear before throwing you off to one side to fend off an attacker.

And then blackness swallowed you, an enemy hit you in the head so hard you lost consciousness.

That was how you came to be where you were — with your back flat on the silt and Aengus’ body blanketing yours. The grey sky above you sensed your pain, and, at Taranis’ command, it parted in the middle. The God of Thunder released a downpour to clean the blood, soot and woad’s blue dye off your face and hair.

You cried your sadness away, rainy tears sliding off the corners of your eyes — your anger, your loss, your torment, you purged it all, sobbing until you were devoid of all emotion. Taking a deep breath, which caused a needling pain on your ribs, you pushed Aengus to one side to free yourself from his weight.

The thudding sound he made almost brought more tears to your eyes.

“Sorry, uncail (uncle)”, you muttered, hovering your fingertips over his eyelids to shut them for him. Now he could finally rest.

You stood up, your knees trembling like a newborn calf. A searing pain stabbed your skull, dried blood and dirt gathering on the wound on your scalp. With a straight back, you dared to look around you. The bodies of your own men and women were scattered around the hills of Raedykes. So many lives lost, you heard all your ancestors screaming from above, their cries falling upon you in the way of rain. The green, long grass was reddened with blood, but the weeping sky had started to wash away the atrocities committed by the Romans.

Then you saw him. Your athair.

“No, no, please, no...”, you whispered as your sight became blurry again, dragging your feet towards the fallen body of your dad.

Your soul tried to tear itself apart, become its own entity. You had to summon the last drop of the royal blood that ran through your veins to keep yourself in one piece. You knelt before him, craddling his bloody hand between yours. Unconciously your body rocked back and forth until you hugged him, laying flat on top of him.

Time stood still, like a thread on the expert hands of a wool weaver. It could have been minutes, hours or days, your pain too great to bear, to comprehend.

And then you felt a hand lightly tap your shoulder.

You startled, your mind and body jumping back into survival mode, gripping your sgian-dubh (small knife) close to your chest.

“It’s okay, mo phiuthar (my sister). It’s me, Torcall”, a raspy, masculine voice forced you to focus on the man in front of you.

He was your father’s most important tacksman and also husband to your older sister Mairead — your sweet Maisie, as you always called her. She was the eldest of the four siblings while you were the youngest. Always so witty and quick with a joke, Maisie kept up the spirits even when the circumstances were dire — in fact, before your paths had parted during the battle, she jested about your H-shaped shield being larger than you.

When you turned around, Torcall flattened his hands on your shoulders, slightly shaking you so you would come back to reality.

His blue eyes pierced through you, the situation becoming clearer in your mind. Thousands of your tribesmen were dead. Your father too.

“Maisie?”, you asked in a hush. Your heart clenched when your brother-in-law shook his head no. You were afraid to speak, but you did nonetheless. “Aodh and Somhairle?”

Torcall stared at you, his silence speaking loudly. “They are all dead.”

The air evacuated your lungs, feeling as if a spear had run through you. Learning about the death of Maisie and your twin brothers broke something within you, something fundamental and primal. They were your everything, your most trusted confidants. Despite being of different ages, you all were so tight-knit it was difficult to find one of you alone.

A heart-shattering wail escaped your lips as you bent over yourself, your chest snug against your knees.

Morrígan had unashamedly claimed most of your family that day, except for your beautiful mother. Now Her words made sense: you were yet to avenge them, to fulfil your purpose. She had spared you for a reason, not so you could pity yourself, knees deep in the mud.

To avenge them, you had to kill the hand who showered this tragedy upon you.

General Marcus Acacius.

A raven’s strident, gurgling croak forced you to look up to the skies — a subtle reminder that Morrígan was watching closely. The massive bird was circling above your heads, like a vulture waiting to feast on a carcass. With resolution, you wiped away your tears, your sobs now silent, and nodded at Torcall.

“I understand. How many…?”, your voice faltered before you could finish your question.

“A couple of thousands. We have found cover in the Dunnottar Woods while we regroup and… bury our dead.” Torcall replied, his eyes averted with the last sentence.

You had lost a sister, but he had lost a wife, the mother to his now half-orphaned children. “I’m sorry”, you muttered, your lips pouting once more.

“She died fighting, the death of a warrior.” His proud voice did not waver. “And your father?”

Your heart wept at his mention but managed to control the anxious fluttering.

“The General killed him.” Your teeth gritted with hatred.

“Mo bana-phrionnsa (my princess)”, one of your father’s retinue members bowed his head to you once you walked into the circle they had formed in a meadow between the trees.

A few dozen men were scattered around the area, fires lighting the dark night while shades of red and orange flickered, creating fiery, dancing shades. You held a torch and carefully waved it in front of you, looking at the faces who watched you back eagerly.

You saw in your men what was brewing inside you: despair, defeat, sorrow. All your souls grieving in unison — all of you had lost someone that day.

At six and twenty, you did not expect to be in this position. You were the youngest daughter of the Overlord — you were never meant to lead your people. The task ahead of you felt titanic, unachievable.

But you had no other option. General Marcus Acacius had forced your hand.

He came, he saw, he conquered.

And now you had to deal with the gut-wrenching outcome of his departure.

“We’ll go back home to Inbhir Nis. But before that, we must give burial to our people.” You had to make a herculean effort to infuse your tone with steadiness.

Torcall first, and then the rest, bowed their heads to you.

“As you command, mo bana-phrionnsa”, he replied, and quickly barked orders around in your stead.

Your chest felt heavy with responsibility and grief. What pained you the most was not being able to carry your brothers and sister with you back home. They would not be buried under the cairns near you family home with the rest of your ancestors.

And what was worst — thousands of lives now depended on you. The weight of your tribe's destiny heavily rested on your shoulders now, like Atlas carrying the heavens.

Maisie, Aodh and Somhairle had been lined up on a patch of wildflowers that you had picked yourself the night prior — their arms were threaded together with your sister in the middle. Your clansmen had also surrounded the makeshift burial pit with wood to aid the combustion.

As you placed the last stone on top of them, you also deposited a bright, bloomed thistle. The flower that blossomed in every nook and cranny of your beautiful motherland, despite the harsh winter or conditions it faced. Like the phoenix rising from the ashes, it would always come back, stronger and more brightful than ever.

Devotion, bravery, determination, and strength — the thistle was a badge of honour for the Caledonians.

With a renewed brawn unbeknownst to you, you threw the lighted torch and watched as the fire consumed the bodies underneath the stones.

There were no tears left within you. Only purpose and resolution.

The way back to Inbhir Nis was tiring and soul-crushing. Hiking through the Cairngorms had been a difficult task with so many people behind you, but luckily you all managed to make it through without any losses.

With each mile covered, you saw the devastation left behind by the Romans. If this was any indication of what awaited ahead, you should start bracing yourself for what you would see. It seemed that the Romans were set towards the northwest — Inbhir Nis was right in their path.

You quickly recognised the landscape as you walked towards Loch Moy. A thick, dark column of smoke towered above the pine trees. Your heart raced as you picked up your dark green skirt and ran towards the loch, ignoring the calls of your brother-in-law.

You could run through those woods blindly — this was the land where you were born, the land you were named after. Your name was an unusual one — Caledonia, in honour of the earth beneath your rushing feet. Just a few people called you Callie, mainly your family and closest friends. With your bright, fiery red hair, green almond eyes and a face dotted with freckles, you were the epitome of your people. That was probably why when someone new learned your name, they always said it suited you.

Dodging the last few trees, you made it to the edge of the loch. In the shallows, the crannog of Naimh, your community’s healer, was burning down to its foundation. You covered your mouth with a sombre expression, your eyes itchy because of the dense smoke and unspent tears.

The Romans had gotten to your settlement before you did.

“Callie, wait up”, said Torcall behind you, struggling to catch up with you.

He halted right behind you, the silence between you was almost tangible.

“The rangers have returned from their reconnaissance mission.” His voice was plain, contained. You turned your heard towards him, slowly, hardening yourself for his next words. “Your mother is dead.”

The last glimmer of hope within you vanished. A single tear skidded through your cheek — angrily, you wiped it off.

You were alone in this world. Everyone you cared for had been taken from you.

“Is everything to your liking, Dominus (Master)?”, the male roman servant asked in a low hush, head bowed, eyes fixed on the cobblestone.

“Yes, now leave”, Marcus dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

The General looked around him with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. He was accustomed to much more elegant surroundings. Although the barbarians did try, their architecture was nothing in comparison to Rome’s.

The castle he was in was small and it only had two floors. It was mainly made of sturdy, grey rocks and dark wood. The design was not very sophisticated, all square and rugged edges. It had two towers and a barbican. The decoration inside was bare, with just enough furniture and no luxuries.

The only warmth was brought by the colourful tapestries adorning the cold, thick walls — one had caught Marcus' attention at his arrival when he first entered the dais. It told a story he had not heard before.

A dragon-like figure lurked beneath the rippling surface of a lake, attracting the attention of the villagers. At dusk it would emerge, a guttural sound echoing in the dead of night, as if it was calling another. Any bìrlinns (wooden vessel) left on the shore would appear destroyed the next morning. Fishermen were worried and called upon the town's druids, afraid of the Loch Ness monster. To appease the beast, every full moon, the druids would whorship the creature, bringing oblations and sacrificies to quench its thirst.

Marcus made a mental note of keeping his distance from that Loch Ness. As a devoted Roman, he was wary of the mystic creatures that skulked in the depths of human fear.

Although he missed his home, he had several debts to pay. The Emperor would not accept no for an answer, so he had to be a reluctant participant in this incursion — in fact, neither Domitian nor Agricola had really asked him to tame the highlanders up in Caledonia. They knew his skills would be most needed in combat, having been praised by bards and poets alike after his many years in the battlefield.

At eight and forty, Marcus Acacius had had his good share of tragedy and death, both personal and in war. His life had not been easy, having to forge a name of his own since childbirth and then having been recently betrayed by his own spouse.

The thought of Livia still angered him — she had had the audacity of blaming him for her infidelity, accusing him of always being away, of loving Rome more than his own family. Her cheating had been going on for as many years as their arranged marriage, throwing a doubtful shade on his paternity to both his children.

His life had come crumbling down in the last few months, so maybe coming to Britannia had not been such a bad idea. Female adultery was a crime penalised with death and that was a decision that Marcus had yet to make — outing Livia’s unfaithfulness would condemn her to Pluto's realm. Did he really want that for who had been his wife for more than thirty years?

Pinching the bridge of his hooked nose, Marcus walked towards the only window in the room. The roman took a deep breath and exhaled steadily — he needed to think of something else.

His mind went back to the battle of Mons Graupius. The spilling of blood never became easier with time — if anything, it had become harder, splintering his soul further. If he closed his eyes, he could still hear the piercing, pained shriek of a woman as he imparted death on Murdoch of Inbhir Nis.

Her hair was dyed with black soot and tied back, her face covered in a blue paste and ash. He was too far to catch the colour of her eyes, but he thought them dark azure. The fierceness of her expression took him aback, her voice shouting a word he did not recognise. But his eyes did not have time to linger on the feral woman a few yards away, because a savage attacked him.

His hand stilled on the rocky window’s sill. The barbarians called this place Inbhir Nis. The stone castle was that of the chief’s family, atop of a hill with views to the scenery underneath. It was rudimentary and lacked many commodities — nothing comparable to his villa in Rome. The tribal settlement was formed of huts made of stone, timber and hay.

Agricola had decided to burn down the outskirts of the town and killed the wife of the clan chief making a macabre example of her, so the people would submit to the Roman’s yoke quickly, crushing any opportunity of rebellion. The message was clear: Rome would not tolerate being challenged. Anyone who did, would face the most painful of deaths. The governor left to go northward, leaving Marcus behind to rebuild the area to Rome’s standards. The emperor had deemed the location an important enclave for his empire, being the main town in the Moray Firth.

Marcus was standing in what he thought was the bedchamber of Murdoch. With the Overlord and his family alienated, the primitive people of the highlands needed educating and he had been given the task of doing so. Not a welcomed one, but he had a duty to Rome that had to be fulfilled.

With a heavy sigh, he undid the brooch at the base of his neck, relieving himself of the heavy, white sagum (cape) that was part of his attire. He threw it on the uncomfortable bed. He unfastened the golden, laurel-shaped bracelets around his wrists, and then proceeded to undo the tight knots that held his armour in place.

Then a knock on the thick, wooden door broke the silence of the room.

“Come in”, thinking it would be his male servant, he didn’t turn around.

“Dominus, dinner is ready”, a very soft voice with a very marked accent made him look over his shoulder.

A pair of very bright, almond-shaped, emerald-green eyes locked on his, framed by what he would describe as fire hair — so red it looked like a hellish aura crowning your head.

So bright were your eyes, he almost felt his soul being examined by your hypnotising gaze. Marcus had never seen eyes like those.

How dared he stand where your father did? Anger shimmered under your skin, but you kept it in check. When you realised you were holding his gaze for longer than what was appropriate for a servant girl, you averted your eyes, inspecting the stones under your feet.

Torcall called you mad for doing this, but you had made up your mind. If you really wanted to overthrow the Roman General and win back your family’s castle and land, you would need to sew yourself into his everyday life. Gain his trust, learn his secrets and use that information against him. Your people were counting on you for freedom, and you would not allow yourself to disappoint them. Even if it was the last thing you did.

“Who are you?”, his raspy voice filled the atmosphere as he resumed the task of undoing the ties on his armour.

Did he have no shame, undressing himself in front of a maid? Mind you, you were not an innocent servant, having been widowed recently. But still. The romans had no modesty, you assumed.

You had to think quickly. You had learnt that the governor and the general both thought the whole chief’s family dead, so you could not out yourself. A very few, selected people called you Callie, almost always in the intimacy of your home, when strangers were not around. Your nickname was precious to you because it was only used by those you loved.

“My name is Callie, Dominus”, you offered your nickname in a rusty Latin. It had been a while since you had to use a language that was not your native one.

“Callie.” The way your name rolled off his tongue gave you goosebumps. You didn’t like the way he pronounced it — it lingered in his mouth for too long, dragging each letter. You wished your words back, but you couldn't change it now.

Instead of clenching your jaw, you nodded. “Yes, my lord, I’m one of the servant girls who tended to the clan chief’s family before you.” You explained, your head still bowed.

You ventured your eyes up for a second, catching a glimpse of his naked torso. Unconsciously, you pursed your lips. The way your heart pounded loud for that one second made you furrow your brows in confusion.

He might be a gorgeous man, but he was a killer. And you had no taste for soulless murderers, that much you knew about yourself.

“Call my attendant, Atticus, to help me get ready for supper. I have no need of you. And ask the kitchen staff to heat some water and bring it up here.” His tone was emphatic, unwavering.

His rejection, in other circumstances, would have been most welcomed, but you needed him to trust you, to confide in you so you could plot his demise — to destroy him. This was not a good start to your plan, but you needed to play the long game.

“I could certainly help you with a bath now, Dominus, but your wish is my command.” You forced the words out, when in reality you wanted to spit them to his murderous face.

He just nodded in your direction, his movements stiff and measured. “Just my attendant will suffice, now go.”

With your fingers laced on your back, you curtsied, walking backwards towards the door of your father’s bedchamber. You could not seem too eager, or he would become suspicious.

When you were in the corridor with the door closed behind you, you took a deep breath and straightened your back.

You would not take no for an answer. Marcus Acacius would yield to you, whatever the cost.

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[yuyu1024]

Fate

Pairings: Yoongi × y/n

Genre/tags: Arranged marriage

Warning: 🔞🔞🔞 mention of blood/violence/drugs/trafficing, trauma, mention of killing, kidnapping, gun, mention of food/eating/weight, cursing, sensual touching, making out smoking, smut (but not this chapter)

~~~~[lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 5.2k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note:

Until you (mini series)

Part 1 - Prisoner

Part 2 - Escape

Part 3 - Twilight

Part 4 - Fate

A/N: again... im really sorry for being a slow writer/update for this mini series🙏🏻 i can't help it. 😭 I do get msgs asking for updates & i feel bad... so sorry 🥹 I try my best to have time to get into the story/characters whenever i have free time. I work full time and have a 2nd job too so it takes all my energy. I'm really... really sorry.😭

But yeaah, thank you for everyone liking my yoongi fanfic. 🖤🫶🏻 thank you for the patience😭

I hope this chapter is okay ♥️

****

(Prologue/Flashback)

"Sshh..." she covers your mouth for you to stay quiet and not make any noise. She reminds you constantly to keep it together or else they will find you. "Just a little bit more, Yoongi." She whispers. "Calm down..."

You try your best to do what she says because you want you guys to survive this. To escape. However you are a kid and you are terrified. And you can't stop yourself from shaking like a twig. Also you are rapidly breathing through your nose. Tears even start to fill your eyes as you look into her eyes.

"You'll be fine..." she says to you. "Noona, will protect you."

"I'm scared..." You whisper grabbing onto her long braided hair.

You two are a few inches apart. If she could only embrace you, she will. However there are metal bars between you two and she is.... injured.

"Me too." She wants to cry to as she must be as scared as you or maybe, more. But since she's the eldest between the two of you she have to be brave for you. "Just go to sleep... I promise... the moment you wake up...when the sun is shining after the storm tonight... we'll be safe... we'll already be at home..."

"P-promise?"

She tries her best to not break down because she knows that she's promising something that's very unrealistic in your situation right now. Both of you are held captives, kidnapped and waiting to be saved.

"I promise." She sniffs "Just hold onto this for now..." she meant her hair and then reaches her hand to you slowly even it's causing too much pain for her. "Go to sleep... Noona will be right here..." the tip of her fingers barely touched your cheek. "I will protect you..." she adds

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

[Present]

The silence between you two is very deafening. Even the staffs at the mansion notices how both of you are very distant to each other.

Odd right? They should be used to this situation since Yoongi is the silent type or the one who does not talk that much especially to you.

However for you, maybe this is out of character as every one is not used to you being like this. Well THIS silent anyway.

You usually talk and greet them or make small talks with them or Yoongi even if it's just a random question to make him just...talk. You do anything to make him speak to you. You make small efforts to chase his attention just to get him look back at you per say. Like a dog.

But now, since he made sure to leave you the moment you got vulnerable with him during sex and mentioned a feeling you have, which in the first place you had no idea you have, really hurt you this time. Big time. It is a rejection that you never thought would bother you this much.

"You two are awfully quiet." Mrs. Min says as soon as she puts down her cup of coffee on the table. "You two are both quiet originally... I know... but..." she looks at you and Yoongi back and forth twice. "Did you guys had a fight?"

No one answers.

"Guessing...silence means yes?" Mrs. Min looks at us again, hoping someone will speak up. "What did you do?" She asks Yoongi.

But he didn't open his mouth to speak. He just continued on chewing on his breakfast while his eyes are glued to you.

He has been eyeing you since the two of you left the mansion. He have been silently watching you move along, react and walk from your back. You don't notice it as you are trying to achieve to ignore him completely today. And so far, you are a gold medalist at it. You don't even bat an eye on him.

"Fine... not gonna ask anymore questions..." Mrs. Min gives up. "Anyways, after this lunch... I'll have a meeting with Hannah."

Yoongi flinches, finally reacting and gets interested to whatever his mother is saying. "What for?"

"About the private resort project that she is building... she wants my opinion about what brands to use for the decorations. She have a final lists of candidates of brands and she wants to know my say to it."

"Really...."

"Yes... and as soon as it opens... she says you two can go there... and celebrate... as her gift. Since she missed going to your wedding."

"Celebrate?" You finally spoke after how many years. Even Yoongi whip his head to look at you.

"Yes dear," Mrs. Min smiles so brightly and holds your hand. "You're 2nd anniversary... next month... right?"

"Ah, yes... right." You try to smile it away. But deep inside, you are not looking forward to it.

Why would you? Last year Yoongi didn't even greeted you Happy Anniversary. He probably didn't care back then so why would he care now and celebrate this year? This marriage is nothing to him.

"Is she coming here?" Yoongi asks his mother, changing back the subject to Hannah

"No... I am meeting her at her office."

You are holding on for dear life on your gold medal for 'Ignoring my husband award'. You are so curious to look at him. To see his beautiful face, how he reacts when they talk about her. Hannah. The girl you saw more than a year ago. The girl you saw on the driveway, talking to your husband while she hooked her arms on his'. The girl that Yoongi seems interested about. The girl he seems to.... like.

"How about you guys? What are your plans today after our brunch?" Mrs. Min asks

"Hmm.." he sighs heavily and then takes his phone from the table. "Probably fuck my wife " Yoongi answers nonchalantly making you and Mrs. Min almost choke on nothing. That sentence made you even look at him with wide eyes and red cheeks.

"Omo..." Mrs. Min is too stunned to even comprehend what she just heard. "Well... okay... too much information but..." she then takes a sip of her coffee. "You do you."

"I'm sorry..." you apologize to your mother-in-law.

You are embarassed. This topic should be a private matter. Everyone in the mansion already seem to have the idea what you two do on a regular basis but you do hope that outside, no one has to know.

It's not that you are embarassed of having a sex life. It's normal. Yes. But to have to talk about it to his parents, oh dear god, no.

"Why are you apologizing?" Yoongi's face looks so damn serious. "We are husband and wife right?"

You scowl at Him. You don't like how he acts or portrays like sex is just a hobby for him and it's nothing to be embarassed about. Especially in front of his mother while you are present. He really does not treat you like you have any feelings. He is evil.

"Okay... children...children... don't fight about this... it's okay. You already have issues before we got here so... it's fine." Mrs. Min tries to sooth the situation up.

She's so nice to try. Though she does not know the real reason why there is a huge distance between you two today. It's not that simple. You don't even know if she knows how his son treats you.

***

"Sir." Mr. Kim bows as both Yoongi and you arrives at the driveway, about to leave Mrs. Min's property.

"Get in." He orders you

You glare at him then roll your eyes away. You are in no mood now. You have scowled at him earlier already so why not do it more now that he is irritating you.

"Hold on..." he suddenly grabs you by the arm, stopping you from getting in the car. "Did you just fucking roll your eyes at me?" He scoffs

You try your best to pull your arms from his grip but he is stronger than you. "Let me go." You grunt

"What are you doing?" He asks, "You've been.... acting up lately..."

"I don't know...what you're talking about..." you finally freed yourself from his grip.

"Don't act innocent on me... I know you."

"Know me?" You snap. "How? We barely talked these past two years... You only look for me when you want something done and someone to fuck...besides that, I am nothing to you. So how the fuck will you know me?"

Finally! You've said something. However you can't lie to yourself how terrified you are right now. Your legs are shaking. You have never risen your voice like this before. Not with him. Plus Yoongi is so freaking silent. There was no reaction from him not like Mr. Kim who just coughed because of the sudden tension.

Is he in shock? He must be surprised to hear you speak out after all this time. He had never heard you talk like this before. You can't even read his expression. He is just looking down at you, straight on.

"Ahm... Sir... Miss... I'll leave you two... alone." Mr. Kim finally broke the awkward silence. "Just message me if... we're going home."

You glance at him and bow. Also giving an apologetic look since the situation got a bit serious.

And as soon as Mr. Kim is gone from our sight, Yoongi takes a step forward closer to you, making you back up and your behind bumping on the car. "Is that... what you think?"

You glare up at him. "Yes."

"You think... I don't know you?"

"Yes."

He chuckles. "I know you more than you know..."

You frown. "You only see me when you are horny... you don't even talk to me unless to I ask you... unless you tell me what to do and what not to do... so, how would you know anything about me...?"

He scrunches his face. He looks irritated "I see you more than you think." He mumbles. And then he took a step back and looks at you and watch you tremble,"Do you regret it?" He asks

"W-what? Regret what?"

"The sex... do you regret it?"

"W-what? What do you mean...?"

He then puts both his hands on the car, trapping you between. "Just answer the question... do you hate and regret the sex?"

You look away. "No...."

"Do you want us to stop fucking?"

You sigh heavily. "Why are you focusing on the sex?!?" Your brows are furrowed. You are really showing your frustration. "It's not about the sex, Yoongi! There is nothing wrong with the sex... what I just want is... I just..." you look back at his face and you see an empty expression from him. Does he not get what you are saying or is he ignoring the other parts of what you told him. That the only thing he thinks about is your sex life. "Never mind..." you lower your gaze. "It's not like my opinion matter..."

"Y/N..." Yoongi begins. You look back st him waiting for whatever he's about to say. You think he was about to response to you or maybe say what is on his mind as well. (Maybe.) However, both of you got suddenly distracted by the honk of a black sedan car entering the property.

You have seen that car before. It is familiar. And then when it stops and someone steps out of the car...

"Yoongi?" The woman that came out of the passenger seat, is Hannah. "What are you doing here?"

She is smiling ear to ear. Her smile is as bright as her tear drop pear earrings that is perfectly shown under her tucked bob hair. She's... so pretty.

"Oh... Hi..." she waves at you when she finally notices you

"Hi." You try to smile as brightly as you can.

"You must be Yoongi's beautiful wife." She is sweet. She looks like a friendly and easy going person. "I'm Hannah by the way... I'm Yoongi's friend since we're... toddlers..."

"Nice to meet you." You bow

"What are you doing here? Mother said..."

"Ah... yes... we we're supposed to meet at my office but I just came from another meeting and since we will pass by the house I decided to just meet her now..." she explains

"She must be in her room now.. preparing to meet you."

"Oh. I see... well, I guess I'll just surprise her." She grins. "Are you guys leaving?"

"Yeah... we just had brunch with her..."

Fuck. What is going on?

Just a second ago, you're having a serious confrontation with your husband. You guys are about to talk about the situation between you two. Yes, it may not be the ideal 'talk' but it is a start. But then, here you are. Hannah arrived and stole his full attention. Literally, she have all his eyes and ears. You suddenly became a shadow.

Then you are also hearing Yoongi converse. You are hearing how is he when he's not alone with you. You are hearing a side of him that you are not familiar with. 'Fuck Y/N, stop it.' You say yourself

Maybe, you just need to stop. Just stop complaining about his attention and him not liking you. Maybe he is not the problem. Maybe.. it's you? They forced him to marry and got stucked with you. YOU are the problem. You are NOT the person he wanted to marry. You just got selected just because.

You are the problem. As always. Like what everybody says to you.

"I'll just email you my thoughts after..." Hannah says

"Why not discuss it now?" Yoongi suggests

"Hmm...but you're about to leave..." she glances at you

"It's okay." Yoongi then pulls out his phone and messages someone. "I asked Mr. Kim to come... wait for him... I'll be quick." He says to you

You look at him for a second before you turn your back on him. "Sure." You sound lifeless. You sounded like you've given up already.

"Y-yoongi... you're going to make her wait?" She whispers to him but you care definitely hear it

"Let's make it quick. I don't want to work over the weekend."

He's more worried of working on the weekend but not making you stay and wait all alone.

They start to walk away. You could see their reflection through the windows of the car.

They left you alone.

He left you alone.

Then as you are standing there, waiting for Mr. Kim to come back, you slightly bend over your torso, holding onto the yourself as soon as you felt a little uncomfortable feeling on your lower abdomen. It's not painful but it is a bit of discomfort.

"Fuck..." you hiss under your breathe.

You should be careful now. Atleast until it's fully confirmed. Yes, you are pregnant. Well, that's what the PT told you a few days ago.

You took the test, in your bathroom, scared and shaking like a twig. You have never felt this terrified in your life. Ever. And the freaking 3mins of waiting felt like forever whilst you are in there, sitting on the floor.

But yeah, after the torture of waiting, the test did show two lines. It was a faint but it is positive. And during that moment, your world suddenly stopped spinning. You had to gather your thoughts and emotion within the span of 30mins that you have. (Because your maid will enter your bathroom to help you get ready after 30mins). That was one other toture you had to endure. And to add more spice on this never ending problem is that you were all ALONE. You had no one to hold hands or hug for moral support.

You are, all by yourself.

After testing, you did processed the result in your mind and managed to get back right to reality and decide by yourself to be... okay. To take it as another good day. Because this is not something bad. It is a miracle. It's a life.

Though, you can't lie. It was a whirlwind of emotion. And you don't know what to feel yet about it. You are not even sure if you are able to share it with anyone, even Yoongi since you still need to see a doctor to really confirm it.

Confirmation.

You fucking need that final 'yes you are pregnant'. Because your further decisions in life will revovle around that one thing. Decisions that might affect this marriage and basically affect your whole life. So, you really have to find a way to get a doctor's appointment in secret. For now...

"Miss?" Mr. Kim arrives and sees you slouching, "Is everything alright?"

You turn around, stands up straight and smile. "Yes..."

"Are you hurt?" He asks

"I'm fine... but I just think... my stomach feels heavy a bit from eating... I did ate quite a bit." You lie.

"Okay, let me bring you home quick so you could rest." He says

"Thank you."

****

[Yoongi's side]

Yoongi can't sleep. He got home earlier just an hour after Y/N got home. He asked the maids to call her, to have dinner with him, but unfortunately Y/N was already fast asleep.

He waited for her to wake up from what he thinks is just a quick nap. But whenever he asks the maid if she's up, they just shake their head and say sorry.

They fought. He thinks. It felt like they fought. It's his first time hearing her talk to him like that. She have been always timid and her patience with him is very long. However, she finally have had it.

How can you make your wife, who is clearly showing you that she's falling in love with you, start to hate you?

Well, Yoongi knows what he did and is doing to her. He is very controlling, cold and distant. And these are the traits that can't be part of your life especially of you are married. However, this is how he is. As a child no, but ever since the incident happen fifteen years ago, the trauma and the life he had to put through made him, This.

Outsiders might call him as the devil or the punisher of the Min Family because of all the work he is doing inside the office and outside. He is a fighter and his hands are always covered with blood. Though what he's doing is not a crime. The Min's business is not illegal. They control everything that they can do end everything that is illegal in the most legal way possible. If that makes sense.

They were just a business before. A typical rich family. But yeah, since what had happened to them years ago, they changed their rules and how they do it now.

And that's why Yoongi have this cold exterior. He needs to show to everyone who's watching him that he can't falter. That no one could try to even break him like how those monsters break his father. How those monster took them and made them hostages.

10 million. That's all it takes, for some uneducated humans do the most horrendous thing in this world. To hurt and kill an innocent child. A 16yrs old girl and a 14yr old boy.

Their parents were willing to give the money and even more, just for them to surrender their children. However, the fear in them when they know that the children saw their faces, made them decide to end it all.

Yuna, his older sister, sacrificed her life to save Yoongi. She is one brave young lady. She managed to push his brother just in time to fall on the edge, to roll down small hill and get away through the woods. She got shot and died on the spot. Yoongi saw everything but didn't had the time to grieve then and there because he had to survive yet. To run.

It took two more days before he was found. How he survived? No one knows. But since that day, the happy and cheerful little boy grew up and became the cold Yoongi everyone knows now.

He knows that what he have been through is not an excuse to treat his wife so coldy like this. She was only forced the marry him. She didn't even know him. Which is his fault as well because he didn't allow her to enter his bubble. Up to now...

However, through all the times that he have been with her little by little, as per his therapist's words, 'You are slowly breaking.' She said.

She said that before, whenever she asks him about his wife. He is usually nonchalant or indifferent. Like he's just talking about someone he randomly met. But then one day, the therapists said, she saw a glimpse of change in his eyes the moment she asks about his wife. His expression is the same but his eyes started to shift like he's thinking about it more before he speaks.

'You care. You just don't know how to show it' she said to him.

At first, When Yoongi heard that from his therapist, he got worried. Not because He is starting to have this feeling for his wife. No. His wife is never and will never be a bad thing that happened to his life. He is worried because, what if he breaks his cold exterious and somewhere out there in the world takes advantage of it and what happened years ago will happen again?

That is his only concern. That is why, he added more men. That's why Y/N can't leavr a house alone. That's why he always tracks her phone wherever she is. That's why he can't sleep without know if she is fine or not.

If only... he never had these issues, these traumas from the past, maybe... it's easier.

"Please... don't quit on me..." he says out loud as he closes his eyes, imagining the smiling face of his wife. "Don't... leave me..." he mutters

****

After what it seems like a very, very long day for you you're finally home. You are so tired that the first thing you did after getting changed is sleep. It feels like this is the longest you've slept in like forever.

You keep turning and waking up every now and then but your body kept forcing you to not wake up. It's like its telling you that you needed this. After all of the worrying you have been having these past few days. This sleep is for you.

But then maybe after hour five of sleeping, you felt something cold touch your skin. It didn't sting. It oddly felt good.

Slowly opening your eyes, you see a blurred figure in front of you. He's so close that you could actually smell his scent. The smell of baby powder.

"Yoongi?" You ask softly as your eyes slowly adjusted to the little light of your lamp shade. But no one answered back. You then rub your eyes to wake yourself up a bit more. Just to be surez you saw what you saw.

No one. There's no one there.

"Did I... just dream about him?" You ask, looking at the ceiling. "But I swear..." you trail off. "How funny... even in my dream... I see him..."

But you swear you smelled his scent. Your imagination of him is getting stronger. Your memory of him is getting move vivid. Even the smell now. That's how longing you are of him.

You miss him. Even though he is there  you miss him. Oddly, you miss the time that both of you are just sitting down together in his home office and just reading. You miss casually asking him questions. You miss hearing him talk even though he's talking about his work and not to you. You miss him even though you just saw him earlier. Even though... he hurt you.

His scent. The scent you really, really like. His smell whenever you two have sex. It's not strong but it's there. Whenever you close your eyes and drift away from the high, you know you are okay as long as you could smell and hear him.

Fuck. Is this how being in love is?

Just thinking about him makes you want to cry. You are frustrated at him but at the same time frustrated to yourself as well. Why is communicating is so hard? You know that's the issue. Both of you are not good with talking nor expressing yourselves. Well, that's what Taehyun told you earlier.

Yeah, you went on a side trip earlier before going home, to meet your friend at his work. You needed someone to talk to and you know Taehyung is always there ready to listen to you.

You poured your heart out earlier, crying and all. You were sorry for disturbing him at work but you needed that cry and that hug. You had to told him your feelings about Yoongi. You have to say it out loud for you to truely understand the situation and yourself.

You needed someone's opinion to point out the obvious so it could stick in to your brain.

Growing up to a family where your opinion does not matter took a toll on you as well. Especially to an adoptive family. A family that only needed you for money.

To them, you always feel left out and does not deserve a voice. They always tell you that they only gave you a roof above your head and food to eat because you are what they needed. A piggy bank.

Your parents died in an accident years ago, when you are just 12yrs old. There was a police chase in the highway that rainy day. Every one is on high alert and giving way. But well, the criminals weren't exactly running away and trying to avoid cars. They hit quite a few vehicles during the chase and one of them was your parent's. The crash caused an explosion, killing them in an instant.

And like any drama stories on TV, yout aunt took you in because of your parent's insurance. They are not big but it is a decent amount. However, they could not actually touch it since it is saved for your education that's why the first month of you staying with them was torture. They beat you, make you work and starve you from time to time because they said, 'you don't deserve to eat unless you work for it'.

One reason why starving yourself was easy for you when you need to.

But then things changed a bit when someone knocked on the door one day and gave your adoptive parents a good amount of money. You remember the man saying 'this is for the trouble and lost we caused your family during our battle for saving our children.' You do remember you aunt, being a good actress that day, crying and all. You even saw them be in a good mood. Everyday because of that money. So since then, whenever you have a part time job or one good seasonal job, you save up and give it to them.

You do this not because you want them to be happy. You do this because you wanted peace for yourself. They will not hurt you if you give them what they need.

This is one reason too why you accepted this marriage. Even though, you know you will have trials too. But atleast you know, no one is going to hurt you physically anymore.

Though, you are having troubles now too.... it is still different. Like you said, it is the communication.

Is it all Yoongi's fault? No. Taehyung said that maybe, since I'm very submissive and him being very dominant, grew up giving orders or not listening to anyone because he is who he is, it affected the talking part in the relationship. Though he cannot say that it is a hundred percent fact. Because he explain, everyone have different stories of growing up and these affects every facet of their whole being when they get old.

Well, that's what you got from all his talk. Half of it, you are numb from all the crying and can't hear properly.

Though that talk with Taehyung,you needed that. Now all you have to do is talk to Yoongi.

If.... you have the courage too.

It is so hard to start a conversation not knowing how he feels about you. It is scary and a risk. But you are hoping it will turn out good especially now that you are expecting.

"Oh, right! The result!" You got up immediately and grab your phone.

You visited Taehyung in the hospital and he got to help you get a blood test to confirm. You forgot to talk to him about the result because you two are busy with doing friend therapy. He said, he'll just email you the result.

But then as you were scrolling scrolling through your emails your stomach growls. "I'm hungry..." you mumble and pause. "Taehyung said that if I am really pregnant... I need to eat properly now..."

And you haven't eaten dinner since you just slept since you came home. You need to eat.

Looking at the time it's pass 10pm already. Everyone must be asleep now or getting to bed so you must go and make yourself food yourself.

"Just one toast." You say as you push your blanket away. "Or two..."

You walk along the hallways as quietly as you can and then take the stairs instead of the elevator, going to the upper ground, so you could not disturb anyone.

There is still minimal light coming from the kitchen area. 'Maybe someone is still there?' You thought to yourself and hoping it is one of the maids so they could help you grab the things in the pantry. Since you don't really know how they organize it.

But then the second you turn to the corner, to enter the doorway

"Ah!" You hit your head first at something. Or at someone

Then after collecting yourself from bumping on someone, you look up to see who it was. "Sorry, I wasn't looking at--"

Fuck! It's not Yoongi nor anyone of the staff.

You tried to run back and scream but it was too late. He was quick to cover your mouth with a cloth. A scented cloth. The smell quickly pierced your nostrils and immediately made you feel dizzy and sleepy.

You are barely awake but you know he carried you over his shoulder. You could see the floor and the lights slowly to flicker. You are about to loose it.

'Help... Someone.... Yoongi... please...' You say to yourself before totally loosing consciousness.

-----

Taglist based on the replies last post 🖤

@gaby-93   @goodbyetwenty   @baechugff

@amyz78   @qeen123   @armystay89   @bangtannie7 @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @corruptedmistress @ot72025 @cheezwiz

@xkh0  @eli-deville

[widogasted]

fhr/los diablos dashboard simulator

👾moddeddubstep78 Follow

fuck my stupid baka life Marshal Steel just fucking crushed my car AGAIN

#thank god my insurance covers rangers related accidents

rangershqofficial-deactivated Follow

just a reminder to everyone that we don't give a fuck about your health insurance

#THEY GOT OP?????? #FUCK THAT'S WHERE I GOT ALL MY PICTURES OF CHARGE

💉 booooooooost Follow

just a reminder that people fearmongering about boosting are fundamentally antivaxxers!!!!

#not to mention classist as fuck #i will not be elaborating none of you motherfuckers can read #stop sending me anon hate

🛒 unmoddedunbothered Follow

tell me why i just saw someone claim that it's classist and an "antivaxx mentality" to spread actual information about the outcomes of the boost drug

#linking the study again #this is getting ridiculous at this point #and YES it is a valid study!!!! 8 people is literally a normal amount to have

❓ rangerspolls Follow

❓ rangerspolls

GUYS STOP ASKING ME WHERE CHARGE IS. THERE IS AN OVERSATURATION OF CHARGE I'M LITERALLY LEAVING CHARGE OUT OF ONE (1) THING

#ALSO WHO THE FUCK IS VOTING SIDESTEP #THEY LITERALLY WEAR A FULL BODY SUIT AND MASK. HOT BASED ON WHAT??

🚶‍♂️ mrnormalguy Follow

omw to work and i just watched that one guy from the rangers fall on top of the car behind me. only in los diablos fr

🕴 aspiringnonsuperhero Follow

about to stick a fork in my new mod

🕴 aspiringnonsuperhero

hopital

💞 circuitheartbeats Follow

By Your Electric Love (marchal charge x reader)

summary: you get injured in one of the new villain's rampages and marchal charge finds you trapped under some rubble. charge takes you home to tend your wounds and you learn....... the secret under the mask.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: dom!charge, pet names (babygirl), f!reader, swearing, unprotected... >w<

(a/n-- thank u all for 1k follows!!! ^u^)

(story under cut ->)

#los diablos rangers #charge #rangers x reader #charge x reader #charge x f!reader #guys this one was sooooooo hot i kept blushing while i tried to finish it #i hope you like it #1k

💥 dailyblast Follow

can you guys stop fucking tagging your rangers x reader fic with official rangers tags. every time i come on this goddamn website and see the tag is trending i try to check and see what happened and it's just that one guy who can't even spell charge's OLD (!!!!) title right

#it's marshal with an s #by the way a fucking gala was robbed

🩺 ethicalscientist Follow

does anyone think it's a little suspicious that the new villain targeted sidestep's exhibit of all people? like. with all due respect they're dead and were not that important while alive. does anyone think this person might be related to them in some way?

🧬 unethicalscientist Follow

my guy did you not catch that their villain name is anathema

🐸 bugboy2 Follow

stop saying boosts and mods are cool. they're literally tools of the government and a a drug that originated with fucking DIET CULTURE that kill more people than they save. why are we glamorizing this

🍆 bleepbloop78 Follow

stop saying boosts and mods are cool. my brother literally got super fart powers when he boosted himself and i had to move house. why are we glamorizing this

[zafrinaxyz]

The Bet

Neteyam x Fem!Metkayina Reader

໒꒱ ‧₊˚ synopsis Neteyam cheats in a game of dice in order to have his way with you

໒꒱ ‧₊˚ wc short read

໒꒱ ‧₊˚ tags toxic / manipulative!neteyam. betting (?) soft blowjob / oral ( m receiving )

໒꒱ ‧₊˚ note super random . probably won't make sense . sorry if its confusing . this is my first drabble ? oneshot ? please be gentle with me 😂

enjoy x

໒꒱ ‧₊˚. NSFW MINORS DNI 18+ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

"A six. How unlucky" Neteyam smirks as he picks up the things he calls dice, small foreign objects he showed you from his dads home planet

"But why is it unlucky? You still haven't even explained the game!" Sitting in a kneeling position, you pout- growing more and more confused by the second

"Because I said so" Staring at you intensely, making you nervous and uneasy. You were both on an empty beach, on the opposite side of the Metkayina village. For some odd reason he didn't want anyone else to join you with this particular game, wanting it to be just the two of you. He said the game would be fun, not too many rules and simple to follow. But, he also said he couldn't tell you the rules, only he was allowed to know. How were you supposed to know if you won or not? He said he would tell you if and when you did- telling you to trust him

"Okay so now what?" You motion to begin to stand, legs aching from being in the stiff position for so long

"Ah ah , remember what you agreed to" He begins to rise too, making sure you don't start making your way back

"If I lose, then I would have to help you with something" with a pinch in your brow, your face is flat and annoyed, this game from earth was... awful

"Right.. So get back down on your knees and close your eyes" He was a few inches from your face, talking lowly

Your ears pinned back, eyes darting back and forth between his. You swallowed, then made your way back down into your original position, hands placed on your legs

"Neteyam, what am I do-"

"Shh, close your eyes. I won't say it again"

Your upper lip quirked, and with a deep exhale, you obeyed. "Perfect tanhi. Now open your mouth for me." What the hell is he doing? What kind of favor required all of this? You slowly opened your mouth, your brows pinching together even more than before

"Be really still for me" he breaths as he places his left hand on the side of your face, gently cupping your cheek and using his thumb, stroking your skin. Using his right hand, he slowly guides his shaft closer to your lips. He places the tip on your bottom lip, softly dragging it side to side

"Good, now stick your tongue out" Eyes still closed, You slowly extend the pink muscle until it connects with his tip. You retract instantly, precum covering your taste buds with a slight sourness

"Neteyam what kind of fruit is this?" Swirling your tongue around in your mouth, completely clueless. He lets out a breathy chuckle, "The best kind... now open wide"

Re-opening, he instantly begins to slowly slide his length in your warm mouth with a low moan. You began to whimper, the vibrations sending chills up his spine with his mouth agape

"Sssss , uh eywa" His right hand removed from his shaft to the back of your head, lightly fisting your hair

Your eyes finally pop open, unable to keep them shut any longer. They grow bigger with the realization of what's happening. You jerk back entirely until his entire length pops out, surprised look plastered on your features taking short quick breaths

Neteyams head shoots down with the loss of feeling, brows pinching together due to the instant cold

"Neteyam what the-"

"Remember the bet. You can't go back on your word"

You were in disbelief and shock. He never mentioned doing this. And now you can see why. But instead of getting up and leaving, you stayed put. It was actually quite.. exciting. Blinking a few times and without a reply, you take him back into your warmth and wetness, sucking on him firmly. You can feel every ridge with your tongue as he begins to harden even more. Moaning louder than before, he throws his head back in pleasure, overwhelmed by how amazing your mouth feels

"Fuck tanhi, you’re gonna make me cum" Struggling to speak, his face pointed towards the sky, eyes screwed shut trying to last just a little bit longer

You whimper at the praise, gradually increasing your movements. You raise your right hand and wrap it around his length, simultaneously sucking and stroking while your left hand lays flat against his hip.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck" he huffs out, his breathing being very labored, nearing his release. You begin to twist your wrist and swipe your tongue over the tip, making his hips spasm. He grips your hair tightly before gripping completely, freezing his movements as he shoots his cum down your throat. you swallow quickly trying not to choke

"Shit .. you are absolutely gorgeous" removing himself from your mouth and catching his breath. He begins to come down from his high as he looks down at you with a haze and partially closed eyelids

you faintly smile up at him and he comes down to connect his lips with yours

maybe this game wasn't so bad after all