#and I’m so physically exhausted I just blow dried my sheets

[jesuiscalm]

Something I should take to my grave…is in the tags. I’m sorry but this has to be shared

[hurtfairchild]

Clary/Jonathan, 3k, Rated E

Tags: Canon Compliant, Explicit Sexual Content, Vaginal Sex, Doggy Style, Masturbation in Shower, Sibling Incest, Dubious Consent Due to Magic Bond, Post-Episode: s03e19 Aku Cinta Kamu, Morgencest, Good Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern | Sebastian Verlac, Soft Siblings

@bannedtogetherbingo2020 prompt: Explicit Orgasm

Read on AO3

Part 3 of the Blood & Bone Series

Clary wakes up to the aftermath of their night of passion. Getting ready for interrogating the Seelie Queen takes a bit longer than expected as the real effects of the bond truly come to life.A follow-up to Blood & Bone and Blood & Body.

The sun coming through the window and landing right on her face was what woke Clary up the next morning. She probably could have slept through all the alarms in the world with how bone-deep exhausted she was.

She shifted her hips and had to bite down on her lip not to whine. She was so sore it hurt to think of moving. The sheets were pulled up to her chest, and she had no idea yet what her lower body actually looked like. But she could feel it would be a mess.

They hadn’t cleaned up before falling asleep, both completely worn out. Clary sighed. At least, hopefully, she would be sated for a while. For some reason, she could feel that she was threatening to become a little insatiable.

Clary turned around, muffling whines of discomfort. She’d iratze it as soon as possible, because this was so incredibly uncomfortable. She’d never felt this sort of ache before. She’d never had sex the way she’d had that night either.

Jonathan was laying on his side, his back turned to Clary. Clary’s eyes landed on the tracks of nails, red scrapes down his entire back, with dried blood stuck to specific deeper crescent-shaped marks. She’d absolutely mauled him.

From what she remembered of the night, her neck probably looked like she’d been mauled too. He liked hickeys very much. So did she.

Jonathan had relatively few runes on his back compared to Jace.

Clary reached out for him. Her fingers trailed down the runes and the scratches marking the pale skin. They had the same skin tone, she realized as she held her hand to his back. As she traced down his spine, she noticed the bruises.

They were pale and relatively healed and their existence wasn't exactly a surprise. But they were familiar. They were in the exact same spot as the ones she’d gotten from the skulls of the pillar.

The Twinning Rune. Everything that happened to her happened to him, and vice versa. Her eyes stopped on the nail scratches again.

Clary sat up suddenly, throwing the sheets back and rushing to the bathroom. She locked the door behind her, turned on the lights. They flickered for a second, too yellow for her taste. She stood in front of the full-sized mirror, inhaled deeply and looked.

She gasped.

Her hair was messy, her face a little splotchy with sleep, her throat and collarbone covered in blue-ish marks that Jonathan had sucked there throughout the night. Her hips were bruised as well, bruises shaped exactly like his fingers. Her inner legs were covered in dry white-ish semen, especially her left thigh, on which she’d rested during her sleep.

She turned around. The bruises of the skulls were still there but so were the rest. The tracks and marks angry red down her skin, with the little hints of dried blood from where she’d dug in her nails too hard. Clary swallowed.

Somehow, this was worse than seeing herself coming back from a hunt. The marks were everywhere, and she wondered if she would be able to hide them. Would she have to wear the physical proof of what she’d done with Jonathan so openly?

A knock resounded against the door of the bathroom.

“Clary?” It was Jonathan. He sounded worried.

“I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?” Jonathan continued. “Because I feel…very sore. And considering you didn’t fuck me, I’m thinking this is from your side of the bond.”

Right. The soreness. If he had her bruises and she had his scratches, then he had her soreness too. Clary grabbed a towel to wrap herself in, suddenly self-conscious. He’d never seen her completely naked. She’d refused to turn on the lights last night.

She wrapped the towel around herself, made sure it was not going to fall when she started to move and opened the door.

Jonathan hadn’t had the same urge for modesty. He was completely naked.

Clary’s eyes travelled down his chest and to the hickeys on his throat. The bruises on his hips matched hers. She forced herself not to go lower, not to see his cock. She looked back up to his face. His smile was a little cocky.

“Did I hurt you, last night?”

Clary shook her head. “No. It was just a lot for my body.”

Jonathan nodded. “I can feel that.” He shifted uncomfortably. “You should activate your iratze. It’ll make the rest of our pretty marks disappear but I’ll do my best to put some back.”

Clary shuddered. A part of her had hoped he wouldn’t want her again after the hours and many orgasms. But why wouldn’t he? She could feel the need for closeness buzzing through her again, pushing her to get close to him, to touch him, to feel him. There was no way he didn’t feel the same.

She forced herself not to listen to her brain. Instead, she walked past him, towards her stele on the bedside table. Jonathan’s eyes were on her, she could feel it. He was staring at her, maybe at the traces of come down her legs, maybe at the scratches visible above the towel. Maybe just at her, because he seemed to like to stare at her.

Clary took her stele in hand and slid it over her iratze. She closed her eyes as her back tingled, the nail tracks disappearing. When she opened them again, she didn’t have to look to know every mark was gone. The only thing left was the semen.

She turned around again, facing Jonathan. He was standing there quietly, watching her still.

“I’m gonna shower,” she said. She thought for a moment before adding, “Alone.”

Jonathan nodded, stepping out of the way. She shut the door again behind her.

She unwrapped the towel, letting it fall to her feet. This time, the mirror didn’t show her as much evidence of the night she’d spent with Jonathan inside of her as before, and she couldn’t help but sigh in relief. There were no hickeys to explain away to an hypothetical someone.

She stepped under the shower. She’d wondered before why Lilith’s apartment was equipped so perfectly for people without magic. She’d come to the conclusion that Lilith probably had guests over. Or maybe it was Jonathan who had added those. She didn’t really know.

The hot water ran down her back, the spray massaging her shoulders and head. With the water, Jonathan’s come was running off, washing away. She was clean, at least physically.

They would have to change the sheets. They were probably ruined by the fluids from their fucking, and Clary had no desire to fall back asleep into that mess later today.

Would he come to her again tonight, asking for a place in her bed and to fuck her? Would she say yes?

Clary felt a warmth settle in her groin at the very thought of it. She shifted, rubbing her thighs together and turned her attention back to the showerhead and the hot water.

But it was too late. Her body was incredibly fast at getting aroused, as if her libido was amplified. Just the thought of Jonathan’s body against hers again was enough for her to get wet. She tried to think of something else, but every time, her thoughts came back to sex.

Not only with Jonathan, actually. Sex with Jace, sex with Simon, sex with Jonathan, her own hands on herself. What it could have been like to experience vampire speed in bed if Simon had been just a tiny bit less careful and careful. How she should have asked Jace to use his heightened speed rune, just to see. She hadn’t realized how into those things she was.

Jonathan would say yes if she asked him to use his demon speed on her. He would say yes and wouldn’t ask why, wouldn’t judge, wouldn’t do anything but please her the way he had for hours the night before. Her last orgasms had blended one into the other, and she couldn’t remember anything but mind-blowing pleasure and the desire for more: closer, deeper, harder. It was like a beast in her stomach, insatiable and growing bigger every time she came. And she’d been coming a lot lately.

Clary’s hands travelled down her body, teasing her breasts and the sensitive skin right below her hip bones. She teased herself briefly before her fingers found her clit and pressed down; one first hard press that made a shudder of pleasure run down her body.

She slid her fingers lower, in between her folds, parting them. Searching for her entrance and sliding one finger in. She bucked against her own hand. Her left hand rested on the wall for support.

She wasn’t that gentle with herself. Her pussy screamed for hard and fast and she gave herself what she needed. There was no worry to have in between her and herself, nothing to think about except chasing her own pleasure. So she wouldn’t jump her brother’s bones the second she came out of the bathroom.

Clary knew her body. She knew her body enough to know exactly how to bring herself to orgasm as fast as possible. She came, groaning loudly. It was pleasing, yes, but it left her… unsatisfied.

She sighed heavily, letting herself rest her back against the wall of the shower. Usually, her masturbation gave her orgasms almost better than the ones she had with partners. But not this one. Not anymore. Not since she’d come on Jonathan’s cock.

She was barely coming down from her high that her pussy was wet again. It was all because of him.

Clary groaned in frustration, finishing her shower and getting out of the bathroom quickly after, barely dry.

Her frustration made her incredibly mad at Jonathan. He’d probably been masturbating too, that’s why she’d felt so aroused so fast. It was probably him, it had to be.

She shoved the door open and returned to the bedroom, waiting to see him lying there with his dick in his hand.

The bedroom was empty. The bed had been made with brand new sheets, square and perfect, the pillows fluffed up and the room itself tidied. Her sleepwear had been folded neatly and put on a chair next to her side of the bed. No, not her side of the bed, the side she’d ended up on when he’d been there. There were no sides of the bed.

Clary took off her towel and went to the closet. She slid on some underwear before choosing dark jeans, a long-sleeved black top and some high-heeled boots that would have suited Izzy if they’d been a couple of inches taller.

She took some time on her hair and her makeup, and she didn’t really know why. Maybe she was afraid of being bare-faced in front of the inhumanly beautiful Seelie Queen. She needed to look intimidating, not like a teenager.

Her eyes rested on the rune on her chest, the one that always looked red and angry, the one that was her tether to Jonathan. She softly traced it with her finger. She was happy to be by his side, despite everything. Despite how annoyed she was at him for masturbating earlier.

She walked out of the closet and the bedroom and walked towards the kitchen. A delicious odor wafted through the corridors, making Clary raise an eyebrow. Was Jonathan…cooking?

He had his back turned to her when she came into the kitchen. It was old fashioned, not open like the ones in most apartments these days, and with wooden cabinets. He was shirtless. She could see the now unmarked plane of his back, the runes peeking out from his hips and lower back and around his neck. The red of his hair, darker than hers, the same shade as their mother’s. And the heathered grey yoga pants that rested low on his hips.

She swallowed. “Was it really necessary for you to jerk off when I was in the shower?”

Jonathan chuckled, his shoulders moving slightly. “I didn’t. You certainly did.”

Clary found her face getting warm. In the reflection of the microwave, she saw herself blushing furiously.

“I felt… I thought it was from you.”

“I could definitely feel it. You were very aroused and it did turn me on, but I had better things to do. Cleaning up, and making breakfast. We do have to get a move on. The whole interrogating the Queen, you know.”

How could he be so calm? Clary felt a wave of shame at her own inability to control her arousal.

Jonathan turned around, looking at her with a little smile. “You always were a very fiery person, little sister. I’m not surprised that it would apply to all areas.”

How much of the last night had been due to her own arousal? She’d somewhat figured that the onslaught of desire was mostly coming from him but…she was starting to doubt herself. There was no way to tell who started it every time. They were getting so in touch with each other’s feelings…

Clary couldn’t help herself, her eyes travelling down Jonathan’s body. He was leaner than most Shadowhunters she’d seen, though she hadn’t seen that many of them shirtless. They just seemed to be broader, made themselves look broader and bigger through working out. Jonathan probably had the same strength as many Shadowhunters but he wasn’t…large. At least not shoulder wise.

Speaking of large, Clary kept looking down and stopped. She blushed furiously, looking back up at his face. His pants were tight. He seemed to like tight-fitted styles but she hadn’t been expecting to see the outline of his cock like this. She remembered the soreness she’d felt in the morning and though it was mostly due to the sheer time they’d spent fucking, what she’d just seen had definitely helped…

“See something you like?” Jonathan smiled. He looked young and happy and like this was a normal interaction. It still completely baffled Clary that Jonathan wasn’t ashamed in any way.

“What are you making?” Clary asked, diverting the conversation away from his anatomy and how it made her feel to see it like this. They hadn’t really done anything with enough light for her to see details.

“Crêpes,” Jonathan replied. “French pancakes. I wanted to take you to a crêperie when we were in France but our visit was cut short, as you know.”

Clary walked up to him. Paris with Jonathan had been…confusing. She’d hated him so much back then. She didn’t anymore. How could she? Jonathan had always loved her in a way she didn’t think anyone ever had. It was an unconditional sort of love that she was almost too overwhelmed to comprehend.

“I’m sorry I didn’t…understand you back then.”

Jonathan scoffed a little. She was about to ask why when the kettle started whistling and he turned back to the stove, the spatula in hand. Clary watched him. He was handsome like this, in the morning light, making her breakfast.

Why did she keep having these thoughts? Why did she keep thinking of him as handsome, being turned on when she saw his cock or want him in any way?

Jonathan poured the hot water into a small teapot. “Earl grey,” he commented. “Your favorite.”

Clary sighed a little. “Thank you.” He was so sweet .

She came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He was shorter than Jace, so her mouth was about level with the top of his spine, where it met his neck in a bit of a notch. She kissed it without thinking. She felt a shiver run down his spine.

“My favorite’s gunpowder green,” he whispered. “If you wanted to know.”

Clary tightened her arms around him. “I’m sorry I don’t ask you those things. God, Jonathan…”

Jonathan. Saying his name had a different meaning than it used to have. It brought back the way he’d demanded she say it in bed, his eyes dark and beautiful and needy. It brought back the memory of his body against hers, his breath mingling with hers, his lips on hers. His cock in her.

Clary felt her desire rise again inside of her.

“How easily turned on are you?” Jonathan chuckled.

“I didn’t think this easily, and yet…” Clary chuckled as well.

Jonathan turned off the stove. The knob made a clicking noise as it hit the lowest setting. Slowly, Jonathan turned around. His eyes were bright and blue now. He was smirking.

“I can feel it,” he whispered. The softness in his voice, the little strain in it from desire made her shiver, tingles running down her spine. “I can feel that you’re turned on. And it turns me on too.” He let his hands travel down her arms. Clary’s hands were on his back now that he’d turned around.

“Could you feel me having sex with Jace?” she blurted out.

Jonathan laughed, a bright and short laugh.

"Yes,” he replied. Clary huffed. Of course he could. Why couldn’t he? "But not like I can feel it now. It was distant, blurry…more like a general feeling of satisfaction. Like a shiver down my spine. And the longer we were tied together…the more I felt, the more detailed. When you had sex with him in the apartment before we went to the club, I couldn’t ignore it. "

Clary breathed out. That was a lot to take in.

“I never felt you,” Clary pointed out.

Jonathan laughed again. “I’m not necessarily as sexually-driven as you are, sister. I’m attracted to a lot of people but acting on that attraction is not as uncontrollable to me as it seems to be to you.”

Clary watched him for a moment, his sharp cheekbones and how ethereal he looked right there, with the light pouring through the window directly on his pale skin.

“I’m special then,” Clary hummed. “You seem to want to fuck me a lot.”

Jonathan shrugged. “You’re a very attractive person, Clary. And I love you.”

Clary decided to just ignore that last part entirely. Maybe just having sex was much easier than anything else right now.

“Do you want to fuck me right now?” Clary asked, smirking at him.

Jonathan smirked back. “Yes,” he nodded. “Do you?”

Clary nodded and leaned up, pressing her lips against his, hard. He kissed her back, his hands roaming over her body. She closed her eyes and melted against him, forcing herself to forget it all, forget the shame, and focus only on him; on his body, on the pleasure they shared.

Jonathan’s hands travelled to her ass, pulling her up to carry her to the counter. “Counter okay? I can get you to bed.”

Clary attacked his lips in all response and he put her down on the counter. He started unbuckling her belt and unzipping her pants. He stopped for a moment, leaning back. Clary groaned in annoyance as he stopped kissing her.

He sighed, looking at her. “Your pants are annoying.”

Clary looked down, frowning a little, before she got what he was saying. She would have to completely undress for it to be manageable without ripping clothing and since he probably felt as heated and turned on as she did, he didn’t want to bother.

“You can fuck me from behind,” she shrugged.

Jonathan looked at her with a raised eyebrow. She could feel that he was gonna make a sarcastic comment before he even opened his mouth.

“Wouldn’t want you to think I’m Jace again.”

Clary hit his chest slightly. “I said I was sorry!”

Jonathan grinned and leaned in to kiss her, hard and deep. Clary shifted her hips. She was dripping wet and didn’t want to wait longer to have sex.

He helped her back down the counter and she turned around, leaning against the stone. His deft fingers pulled down her pants and underwear quickly. There was a bit of shuffling behind her before she felt the head of his cock against her folds. She inhaled before he thrusted in.

They both moaned with pleasure. Clary grabbed onto the counter to steady herself.

“Move, Jon,” she groaned. Jonathan chuckled, surprised, but obeyed.

Jon? Really? Clary pushed the thought back to the pile of ‘would need to be thought of later’ and focused on the feeling of him fucking her.

Clary fucked herself back on his cock, keeping perfect pace with him. He felt so good inside of her, their pleasures mingling together perfectly. It was heaven to be close to him in that way, their bodies and their feelings fitting into each other. It was always the best thing she’d ever felt.

His lips were on her neck again, sucking hard on her skin, right against her iratze. The iratze they both had at the exact same spot. Jonathan’s right hand caressed down her arm to her hand and nudged it slightly, before taking hers in his.

Clary gasped. “Jonathan,” she moaned. “God, it’s so good.”

Jonathan moaned against her ear. “I know. We feel so good…we feel so right…sister…” he groaned. “Raziel…” His thrusts got faster and harder. “Clary, I’m so close.”

She was getting closer and closer too. Jonathan’s hand left hers. He went directly to her pussy, starting to rub against her clit in time with his thrusts. Clary cried out.

It took a few thrusts for her to come screaming his name. When she opened her eyes again, slowly coming down from her high, she’d realized he’d come to, right at the same time as she had.

Clary was breathing hard, and so was he. She could feel his chest moving against her back, his hands still keeping her tight against him. She let herself lean against him, rest against him. She was safe with him.

“Fuck,” she whispered. “That was perfect.”

Jonathan kissed the back of her neck tenderly. “It was.” He sighed softly. “You should wear more skirts if we’re going to keep doing this. I much prefer being able to see you come, little sister.”

[trouvelle]

When Tomorrow Comes

A/N: Here’s a short angst (featuring Shinichi and Kazuha) as my first fic of the year because why not be gloomy to start off 2020? :’0

Hands, slick with body heat and the sheet of perspiration that pooled in the crevices of their interlaced fingers. Her fingers were cold and clammy while his was hot and sweaty with the rush of adrenaline that pulsed through him. Shinichi sucked in deep and ragged breaths of the icy cold midnight air, the sharp blades pricking at his airways. They stumbled through hedges of branches and damp leaves, hitting their calves against outcropped roots. The night was alive with the shrill tremor of insects woven into darkness, the silence wrapped around the sounds of their greedy breathing. Dew fell heavily and the air was cold. Kazuha sneezed, and Shinichi could hear the girl's staccato breathing even more clearly than the singing of the cicadas in the background.

"Just a little more," he panted, squeezing the girl's hand for encouragement as he led her through the forest. He looked behind and heard a tiny “boom” from far behind, followed by an explosion of flames.

They were coming.

"Come on," he urged more insistently, pulling the girl along. Kazuha's shirt was gleaming a dark crimson red that spread to her tattered pants. He needed to stop her bleeding as soon as possible.

Shinichi did not know how long they ran, how much distance they covered, for it was trees and more trees all the way. He staggered to the small wooden house at the end of the dense forest. Shinichi sighed in relief.

"Come on Kazuha-chan. We'll be safe here," he said softly. The girl smiled as wide as she could, her chapped lips breaking into more of a grimace than a smile. Her other hand, which she'd pressed to her wound in a feeble attempt to staunch the bleeding, was dripping with blood, and her legs were trembling with exhaustion.

Shinichi picked her up and rushed into the house, past the last few rounds of bushes and through the broken wooden door. It was deserted; bare of furniture and supplies.

He put her down on the dusty floor gently.

"Hang on, I'll go find some—"

"Kudo-kun..." Kazuha whispered weakly, her thin hand clutching his ragged t-shirt, “Are we stopping here?” Her brown hair was matted to her forehead, lips cracked like crumpled paper. Her half-lidded eyes had lost their vigor, their spirit; in its place just embers left over from a once blazing fire. Shinichi clenched his jaw and tried to keep his lips from quivering.

"Yeah. We’ll stay here for the night."

It’s really dark outside by now. Shinichi knows there’s now way they could run any further without getting more lost, especially with their physical condition. He’s sure they knew it too. 

He was in no shape to fight, let alone defend the both of them. And who knows how much worse Kazuha’s wound had gotten? He swears, if Hattori doesn’t arrive in time...

They sat, their backs leaning against the wooden wall, inhaling musty air and blowing out white mist. Kazuha's raspy breathing filled the quiet space, every breath causing Shinichi's heart to thump wildly in its cage.

At least she was breathing.

All around their makeshift shelter, they could feel the unbreakable tension radiating through the waves in the air. Shinichi thought he could hear their hunters.

"We know you're here somewhere~" one of them taunted in a singsong voice. Shinichi felt Kazuha stiffen in his arms.

"Don't worry," he whispered assuringly. Kazuha closed her eyes, the luscious fan of long lashes settling down on her pasty skin. He closed his eyes and drew shaky breaths.

"They'll find us soon," Kazuha rasped, eyes still closed.

"No they won't," Shinichi replied. "By morning, we’ll be safe and sound."

As he ran his palm over his eyes, he felt something hot and wet.

Tears.

Damn, when was the last time he felt this desperate and hopeless? He still has so much to do, so much to say—to Ran. She’s done too much waiting on her part of their relationship, and he couldn’t bear to make her wait some more. Or worse, wait to no end.

Shinichi looked at the deep gash on Kazuha's flesh; the blood splattered in crimson stains on her blouse, still wet. The scene flooded back to him, the scene where they were running through the murky dungeons, how they almost made it out unscathed until they found out and had appeared right behind them. He remembered how he had let his guard down and didn’t notice a thing until Kazuha pushed him to the ground and took the hit for him. The stench of the fresh wound came back to him and he shuddered.

"Don't worry."

He opened his eyes to see Kazuha looking up at him, a glistening drop of water splattered in her cheek. “Heiji—he’ll come soon. He won’t rest until he finds ya.”

"He won’t rest until he finds you," he gently reminded with a smile.

With the pads of her fingers, she clumsily wiped her tear drops away and lightly patted his arm.

"I wish we coulda’ hung out more... under more normal circumstances," Kazuha whispered, her voice small and fragile.

"Don't talk like you're dying," Shinichi scolded, tweaking his chin. He bit his lip, trying to dispel the growing fear in his chest.

“I’m not. I won’t leave you here alone, Kudou-kun. And once we get out of this, promise me you’ll make Ran-chan happy.”

“I promise,” Shinichi assured her. “Now it’s your turn to promise me that you’ll stay awake until Hattori comes.”

Kazuha’s eyes met his but he did not miss the tiniest lift of her lips, the pasty white skin cracking into a slow, sad smile.  

"You can yell at him all you want when he gets here. I’ll back you up," Shinichi assured her with a chuckle.

"Yeah."

———

Dawn was breaking; the first rays of sunlight streaming into the house. Shinichi opened his eyes, watching the darkness melt away into bright light, dust cascading down to settle on the wooden floor.

"Kazuha-chan, time to wake up," he said, nudging the sleeping girl.

She didn't budge.

"Come on," Shinichi said, his voice shaky and his lips quivering as the coldness of the girl's chalky skin seeped into his warm hand. He looked at Kazuha, her eyes closed with a peaceful smile, tears running in dried streaks down her snowy white cheeks.

Just close your eyes.

Nothing could hurt her now. 

You are safe and sound.

Shinichi smiled through the desperation pooling in his gut. He was glad that she’s the furthest away from danger. And at the same time, he couldn’t imagine the pain that he would see in Heiji’s eyes, that is, if he would be able meet him again. He wanted to apologize to Kazuha, for promising her that Heiji would be here by the morning. He wanted to apologize to Heiji, for failing to let him cradle his world in his arms at least for one last time. He wanted to apologize to Ran for... for—just about everything.

Come morning light.

The door burst open and a figure entered, shining in the bright light of the rising sun. Shinichi watched as the figure approached them and he realized that the apparent figure was indeed a man. Shinichi couldn’t mistake its posture and ragged breathing for anything but relief that he had found them.

They’ll be safe and sound.

His eyes widened as an immense realization jolted through his body.

And he closed his eyes.

[fallinfor-youreyes]

Take Me Home

Dani gets shot, and it's Malcolm's turn to take care of her. ao3

Gil tells him to take her home, and Malcolm is positive if she had even an ounce of strength left, she would be using it to fight him.

But Gil just gives him that look, the one he uses when he’s made a decision and going to make you follow through with it, no matter what, so Malcolm doesn’t fight it. He knows that look. There’s no use in trying to change his mind.

Not that he wants to, but he the smallest part of him feels like he should, for Dani’s behalf. So later, once she’s back to being herself, and he can tell her that he tried.

Dani watches them from the hospital bed, and she looks so tired, so small in the terrible, starch sheets, and Malcolm has to stop himself from physically dragging thee doctor into the room so her can discharge her. Her wants to get her out of here, get them all out of the hospital, get them somewhere that isn’t covered in stress and death.

“I’ll get her home safe,” Malcolm promises, and the tension in Gil’s shoulder’s slips just enough that Malcolm knows he did the right thing by not protesting.

“Thanks. JT and I’ll finish up at the station. Keep us updated.” Gil claps his shoulder and then goes to say goodbye to Dani.

Malcolm watches her offer him a small smile, and waves when her eyes fall onto him as Gil tells her the plan. She rolls her eyes, and it’s such a Dani thing to do Malcolm feels himself relax a little.

She’s going to be okay. The doctor already told them she would be, but seeing her smile and get annoyed at the thought of him taking care of her proves that she will be.

He waits until Gil leaves to collapse into the seat next to her, the stress of the day seeping into his bones.

“I guess this is payback, huh?” Dani asks.

Malcolm rests his elbows on his knees and leans closer to her. “I mean, you’ve brought me home home how many times at this point, it’s only fair.”

Dani hums, her head falling back against the pillow. “I have dirty dishes in my sink. And my bed is not made. And if you judge me for it, Bright, I swear, I will punch you.”

“Oh no, the horror.”

She laughs, a brush of air passing her lips and landing on his face, and she’s going to be okay. There’s still blood dried on her skin, and there’s dark circles under her eyes, and he can see the fear in the clench of her jaw, but she’s going to eventually be okay. She has Gil, and JT, and Edrisa, and him, if she wants him, and it’s just a gunshot wound. One she survived. One she’s going to recover from.

Her blood has dried under his fingernails, and he’s still trying to recover from the thought that they could have lost her, and the doctor is taking forever to draw up the papers, and he just wants to get her home.

Get her home and get her blood washed off the both of them, and figure out the next steps to getting her better.

“Bright,” Dani says, her eyes snapping open. “What happened,” she pauses, her jaw clenching again, and he knows she reliving it, and he wants more than anything to stop that from happening to her. “What happened after?”

His hands tremble, and he tries to piece the seconds back together in his memory. One second they were chasing their suspect down an alley, and the next, Dani was stumbling, and Malcolm only barely caught her before she fell the ground, blood seeping through her jacket and into his hands and onto the street, and his heart almost stops.

“JT caught the guy. He’s in lockup. JT and Gil are interrogating him now. He will not get away with this.”

Dani looks likes she’s about say something when the doctor finally walks in, discharge papers in his hands.

He jumps and grabs it as fast as can. He’s taking her home.

xXx

Dani leans against him as he fumbles around with her keys, the exhaustion of the day and the loss of blood, and the entire trip from the hospital to her apartment wiping her out completely. Her left arm is in a cast, protecting the damaged muscle in her shoulder from even more pain, and he’s got the bullet in his pocket, because the doctor gave it to him on the way out, just in case she wants it.

Dani Powell was shot in the shoulder today, and now Malcolm was walking them into her apartment, a bag full of her bloody clothes and antibiotics in his free hand.

She shoves herself off of him once he gets them close enough to the kitchen island, dropping her weight into the chair and rambling around her drawers for something.

He takes a moment to take in her apartment, trying his best not to profile her from it. But he can’t help it.

(She’s a middle child, and a Yankees fan, and her father is a fire fighter and she likes tea more than his mother, and…)

“Where is it?” Dani rips open a drawer, and he notices her hands are shaking.

“Dani, let me…”

She whips out a pair of scissors and turns to him, a threat in her voice. “Shut up, Bright.”

He holds up his hands in surrender and takes a step back, settling on the other side of the island.

She struggles to get her hands to stop moving as she slices the hospital bracelet off her wrist, the scissors clattering to the table the second she’s done. Dani drops her head to the counter, and Malcom gives her a moment before taking a few steps closer.

“Dani.”

She sighs, and then flips her hair back, resting her head on her good hand, which he notices have stopped shaking so badly.

But they are still covered in specks of blood and dirt and everything. He searches until he finds her paper towels and runs the water until it is warm, before stopping in front of her, holding his hand out in question.

Dani nods, and he gently wipes the cloth over her jaw, and down her neck, scrubbing away the blood until it’s almost like it didn’t happen.

Almost.

Her eyes flutter shut, and the only noise is their breathing, and he wants to ask her if she is okay, but he doesn’t want to push her. She’s always given him the space he needed, and he wants to do the same fo her.

“Do you want me to make some tea?” he asks, and she opens her eyes, the terrified, lost look disappearing with a blink, and she’s exhausted, but there’s a gleam of Dani in her eyes.

“Isn’t that how your dad poisoned his victims?” He can hear the teasing in her voice, and he thinks, maybe, she’ll be okay.

“Point taken, no te-“

“No, Bright, I’m kidding. Tea would be great. As long as you promise not to try and kill me.”

“Ha.” He rustles around her kitchen, finding the tea pot and picking one the teas from her ginormous stash, and when he turns back to her, he feels like someone’s punched him in the heart.

“You didn’t have to stay.”

Malcolm almost spills the tea. They are technically friends, he thinks. Sort of friends at this point. He wants to be her friend. But maybe he was over estimating.

“Are you suggesting that JT can make a better cup of tea than me?” He asks. He’s good at deflecting, at pretending.

That gets a smile out of her, but she shakes her head, only wincing sightly from moving so much.

“He’s much more of a cheap beer kind of guy. But I mean,” she pauses her good hand pushing her hair back, but its falls into her face again instantly. “You don’t have to stay and take care of me.”

He pushes her cup of tea to her side of the counter. “What are friends for?” He asks, throwing her words back at her, and she smiles a bit more. “Plus, we’re even now. You took care of me after the snake and after the drugs. I can make you a cup of tea after getting shot.”

Her hands tremble for a second before she wraps them around her mug. “Is this the part where I tell you I’m not a virgin and I’ve lots and lots of sex.”

“I was hoping that part was a dream.”

Dani shakes her head and pulls her tea up to her lips. The cups shakes a bit, tea sloshing over the sides before she puts it down, her hands tightening around the mug.

“I have some tricks I use to stop the tremors, if you want them.” He says, staring into his own cup of tea instead of at her.

“Umm,” she bites her bottom lip and tries to tuck her hair behind her ear again. “That would be nice.”

Malcolm nods. “I can text them to you. Different therapists had different ideas, and I also found a few online.” He takes another sip of tea before allowing himself to look at her again.

She’s somewhere between smiling and looking terrified, which he thinks is normal for the day she’s had.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks her.

She takes a long sip of her tea. “I think, I want a grilled cheese.”

Malcolm smiles. “I think I can do that.”

xXx

He gets her settled on the couch, with a fresh cup of tea and a perfectly grilled cheese sandwich, even if the cheese is slightly less fancy than his.

She flips on the TV and and pushes her hair back again, groaning when it falls back into her eyes.

“You know this whole use of one arm thing is starting to get old really fast.” She says, opting to just blow her hair out of her face.

“The doctor said you won’t need to be in the sling for too long.”

“Ugh.” She drops her head back on the back of the couch. She glances down at her clothes and she groans. “Did they cut off my shirt? That was my favorite shirt.”

“If it makes you feel any better, they gave us back the pieces.”

“Ugh, not better at all.” she says, wrinkling her nose at the shirt JT brought her from the precinct. Her hair falls into her eyes again, and she turns to turns to glance at him. “Would you wig out if I asked you to put my hair up?”

“Umm, no. Ains always said I sucked a putting her hair up though.”

“I believe in you.” She says, and everything about her excudes exhaustion, but she’s smiling at him. And really, right now, he would do anything to keep her smiling.

She’s in JT’s extra office shirt and Gil’s jacket, and she’s still got flecks of blood on her hands and the orange surgery goo on her shoulder and she can’t put her hair up by herself, and Malcolm is oddly struck with the the thought that Dani Powell is one of the most important people in his life.

And he almost lost her today.

She holds out her hair tie to him, and he knows she doesn’t trust easily, and she’s only asking him to help he put her hair up, but it feels like it means more.

“Let me know if I hurt you or anything.” He grabs the hair tie and stands, moving himself behind her on the couch so he can gather her hair, doing his best to be as gentle as possible.

It’s quiet, just the sound of the TV humming quietly, his hands running through her hair in an attempt to get it out of her face.

A noise of triumph escapes his mouth once he finishes, and Dani rolls her eyes back to look up at him.

“Thank you.” Every time she blinks it takes longer for her eyes to open again.

“Do you want to move somewhere more comfortable before I go?” He asks, afraid that he’s overstaying his welcome.

Her eyes snap open, and he can see the fear in face.

“Wait, I don’t want to be alone.”

“Oh.” He moves back around the couch and settles down next to her. “Okay, then.” She wants him to stay. He’s stupidly happy that she wants him to stay.

“I just,” Dani pauses ’”I've been shot at before. But never, you know, actually shot. It puts things into a different perspective. Taking more time than I thought it would to process that.” She’s not looking at him, but she’s talking to him, and he knows it’s a good thing. Years of therapy have taught him that.

“That makes sense. There was a study I read in school about how we all process trauma at different…” He trails off, his eyes falling to her, and almost out of nowhere, he feels like he’s been punched in the gut. Because she’s looking at him, eyes full of something he can’t quite place, but somewhere, something inside of him suddenly wants to kiss her.

Which, is not what he was excepting. And it takes him off guard.

“You don’t want to listen to me ramble about scientific papers,” he says, and she shakes her head, but she’s smiling, bigger now, and he’s happy for it. Even if it’s because of his inability to navigate social situations.

“Not really. I’m way too tired to process it right now.” She yawns and her eyes fall to him again. “Wait, will you be okay without the restraints?”

Malcolm smiles at her and grabs his tea. “I’m not going to sleep.”

“Wait, Malcolm-“

“I’ll be fine. Close your eyes, Dani.”

She looks like she wants to protest, but then a yawn takes over her body again, and the fight leaves her completely, and within in minutes, she’s asleep.

xXx

She falls sleep with her head on his shoulder. He waits until he’s sure she’s asleep before he slowly moves her, making sure she won’t hurt herself.

Malcolm does the dishes. He takes her clothes out of the hospital bag and soaks them in the sink, doing his best to clean the blood out. He makes some more tea. He finds a blanket and places it over her, and then settles himself on the floor, pulling up a a new article on his phone to read through.

Well, he tries to read it. But mostly, his mind keeps sending him back to almost losing her. To her blood flowing down his hands, to the fear in her eyes as he told her she was going to be okay, that she needed to be okay.

He’s used to nightmares. He’s used to reliving things in his mind over and over until it haunts him. And he knows this is going to enter into the loop, just another moment in his life that won’t let him sleep.

He almost lost her today.

He almost lost Dani Powell before he actually got to be her friend, and the thought terrifies him. He doesn’t want to lose her. He can’t.

(He also can’t process the sudden want to kiss her, but he’s going to ignore that for now. For the rest of time if he can help it. He can barely handle friendships most of the time.)

Her scream pierces the room at 3 am. He’s at her side in an instant, resting this hands across her knees, taking her good hand in his.

“Hey, Dani, you’re okay, Dani, look at me, breath, you’re okay.”

She breathes, in and out and in and out, and she’s shaking, but he breathes with her, keeping her hand in his.

“You’re okay. You’re safe.”

She nods, and drops her head into his chest as he pulls her into a hug, holding her until she’s breathing normal again.

“Let me make you so more tea,” he says, once she stops shaking so badly. He moves to go to the kitchen, but she grabs his wrist and pulls him back, and her lips press into his cheek.

“Thank you.”

His cheeks heat up. Something inside of his brain stops working.

“Huh.”

She scrunches up her nose and pushes him away, but he’s frozen.

He almost lost her today. But he didn’t.

And now, he’s going to make her some tea, and she’s going to be okay.

And tomorrow, they are going to make sure the guy who shot her get’s punished for his crimes.

And maybe, he’ll get to be her friend. Maybe one day, something more.

“I’m going to make us some tea.” He says, finally standing up from the floor, and Dani rolls her eyes at him, and she looks like Dani again, now that she has some sleep, and oddly, he’s the happiest he’s been in a long time.

And maybe, everything’s going to be alright.

[mintseesaw]

Fierce and Delicate

Part 2: Felicity (link in masterlist)

Pairing: jungkook x reader Genre: angst (and a bit of fluff), husband!au Word count: 10k Warnings: implications of depression Summary: ⇀ Jungkook and y/n had been brought in two different worlds. Jungkook living an unfortunate life and y/n being controlled by her parents all her life. Despite the imperfect relationship, they completed each other like a puzzle there is. 

Jungkook has one promise he intends to keep: to always make you happy. In the process of fulfilling your wish he had once declined you of, he kept a secret from you. And unintentionally, he has done more damages than expected…Every action, and every decision… could be blamed by the flawed past.

You thought life was about living monotonously, where in a definite point of your life you reach a certain step in the platform and as years passed you move forward in the next… until you get to the final stage—you’re not even sure what it is. For you, it was bound to be simple…and ruled. By your parents. Study-work-marriage-kids-grow older and older and much older. Plain and uncomplicated. Happiness? Passion? Dreams? Disregarded. From your parents’ perception, at least.

Until Jungkook came into your life. Certainly, he did. But it was you who saw him first. Serving liquor drinks to the customers while you were left astonished by the sight of a captivating figure in front of you, who in return did not even spare you a glance. You have never seen someone as beautiful as he is. And even though he depicts the exact imagery of the word perfect, you tried not to be allured by his exterior beauty. Only when you saw what’s inside—who he truly is, the character behind the beautiful face with a tall and athletic figure, was when he truly piqued your interest. Is it possible for a person to possess so much beauty in a single person?

Your happiness was ineffable when you married him. It was a simple civil wedding yet, the most important day in your life. Because in that day, your dream was sealed, legally. To be with him forever. Not even the objection of your parents could stop you.

For you, the only option is him. To have him or no one else.

It was a secret. Your relationship with him. Because you knew your parents would never approve of him. He was the complete opposite of the ideal husband they wanted you to marry. That’s why they highly objected when they came to know about your engagement with him. It was horrible and you felt sorry for him for he didn’t deserve the mistreatment he received from your parents.

Two years after, being married with him consisted a simple life. And anything but dull. You’re contented and happy. It is what you have dreamed of. Far from the life you had before—grandiose, yet a lonely one.

You got up much earlier as per usual, to prepare breakfast, and make two cups of coffee – one with milk for you and a strong black coffee for Jungkook. What’s unusual is that Jungkook is still snuggled up in the bed. Strange. Although you always get up earlier than him, he always is the one who wakes you up, first. He would stare at you for awhile, until he it’s time to wake you up and tickles you to pull you out of your slumber.

You remembered he came home very late last night. He must be extremely tired. It gives you pride how hardworking he is. At the same time, it worries you because knowing him, he tends to forget taking care of himself when he gets too engrossed with work. His cruel and unfortunate life taught him that.

With the hopes of achieving his dream, he worked himself out tirelessly to pay for his college expenses. The reason why it took him 6 years to obtain his degree.

A year ago, he was promoted as an IT specialist in the same company you’re working at. He was accepted few months after you both got married and a year after you were hired in.

Although both of you work in the same building, you barely see each other in your workplace. Their department’s office is floors away from yours. With that, you only see each other after work hours. It was reality. No two working couple can be together all the time. Citing your own parents.

Jungkook lets you be in charge of everything in the household–except paying the bills and taking care of the expenses. Even though you’re earning more than he does, he never allows you to pay for the things that you purchase. Arguing, he is the provider of the family so it’s only necessary for him to cater to your every need and want.

You quickly got ready while waiting for Jungkook to wake up. Warm shower. Dressed up. Make-up done. Blow dried hair. Almost an hour had passed. Still, Jungkook is sprawled in between the sheets.

You sat down on the bed on his side. He was lightly snoring, mouth ajar. Your heart instantly warms up as you stare at him lovingly. Reaching out to his muscled arm, you finally decided to pull him out of his slumber.

“Time to wake up, my sweet bun.” You cooed gently. You were not sure if he heard you. He loves sleep as much as he loves doing his passion for art when he finds the time. You felt bad cutting his sleep short because unfortunately, he needs to work. Both of you have to go to work. In time. You shake him lightly, an attempt to wake him up. You thought it was no use, until he stirred a little. He was slightly moving when you tangled your fingers in the seams of his soft locks, gathering a small bunch of strands to play in your fingers.

“Kookie,” you attempted, again. You knew, this time, it worked because he let out a low groan. Stirring. Eyes still shut. He looks exhausted even with his eyes closed. Worry suddenly engulfing you.

“You okay? Do you want me to call in sick for you?” He caught your wrist and kissed the inside of it.

“Don’t worry, Jagi. I’m not sick. Just a little more sleepy.” He replied, hoarsely. His morning voice. Tired eyes met yours, rewarding you with a lazy smile. Bunny teeth showing, eyes suddenly fluttered closed from his expression. All of a sudden, in one swift movement, he was pulling you closer to taste your lips. The sweet gesture only took a second or two but your inside still tingles as he pulled away with a grin not leaving his face. Mumbling a “I miss you,” against your hair and you only hummed in reply, as a light pigment of red tinged your cheeks.

“Up now, sleepyhead. Let’s eat before we go.”

You drove the car...which you never do. He was about to object when he saw you standing at the side of the driver’s seat, but you quickly shut him off threatening him of abstinence for as long as you want. Now, he was not happy about it. It was evident even with your eyes fixated on the road, you could see him in your peripheral vision. His lower lip protruded in a pout. Arms folded in his chest as he avoided an eye contact with you.

“What…” you let out a small laugh. He looks so adorable sporting a sulky face, yet so handsome wearing his suit and tie work uniform. Handsome enough to attract the attention of the female employees, male ones even. If not for the wedding band occupying his ring finger or the fact that he is married to one of the corporate lawyers of the company, you bet they would try to flirt with him senselessly. Well, some fearless colleagues of him still try, just behind your back of course.

“You always have your ways with everything, it’s unfair.” He softly whined. You chuckled. Couldn’t he just stop being cute? You wanted to pinch his cheeks and kiss his lips but you’re driving.

“That’s not true. I only decided to drive today because you looked tired. And you couldn’t have let me if you insisted.”

“How can I stand a chance, you threatened me with abstinence!” He huffed, eyes sneaking a glance to your direction. For someone who looks so mature and intimidating with an athletic body, he sure acts like a one big baby.

“Not my problem if you can’t control your needs.” Truth is, you don’t have much control to your own needs as opposed to your verbal threat. Somehow, you were scared he would really challenge your threat. He doesn’t need to know that.

“You should stop being so sexy and irresistible, then.”

In mock disbelief, you tilted your head in his direction.

“Wow, so now it’s my fault you’re weak enough to challenge me?” Playful smirk now gone, covering it with a serious expression.

He glared back as he contended, “I’m not weak. Want me to prove it?”

Your eyes rolled. “Physical strength, sure Jeon Jungkook.“

"I will drive the car, later. No more threats.” He demanded, softly. When he realized what he just said, he cleared his throat, nonchalantly. He wont be able to drive you home later. He has to work.

You muttered a faint, “Fine,” unaware that Jungkook is suddenly being consumed with guilt.

You two parted at the lobby. Jungkook bid you goodbye with a sweet peck in your lips. It lasted for only a millisecond. A familiar scene. Yet, employees inside lobby couldn’t help but watch it unfold, everyday.

~

Night came. You were waiting for your husband. It was lunch when you received a text from him telling you he’d be late again and he would ride a cab home. Now it was past midnight. Swamped with worry, you had checked your phone for the nth time looking for signs of him being just fine. Reaching for your phone, about to call him when you heard a soft ding in the area of the doorway. Indicating that the door had opened.

Finally, you sighed in relief. He’s home. With your heart still at an unsettling beats, you scurried your way through the door.

The first thing that you noticed is his exhaustion clearly evident like he was about to pass out. Your eyes skimmed his figure from head to toe, looking for any signs of inflicted bruises because you could almost see pain in his eyes. It was then you took in his appearance. His dress shirt slightly disheveled. Tie undone. Hair a bit messy. And eyelids drooping, almost covering half of his irises. Nonetheless, he still looks breathtaking. He could be snoring and you’ll find him adorable. Or stuffing his mouth full until his cheeks were swelling with too much food in his mouth and you would still be in awe at how gorgeous he is.

You went on your tiptoes and treated his plump lips a sweet peck. It was only meant to greet him because you missed him as the last time you saw him was in the lobby. However, he didn’t pull away. His hand finding the back of your neck, pulling you closer. Soft lips brushing against yours. He tilted his head, urging your mouth to give him more access. Dominance on his favor, he particularly bit your lip. A smirk adorning his face when a low moan emitted past your lips. He misses you, too. You can feel it through his lips inaudibly communicate with yours.

His gentle assaults to your lips didn’t last long but enough to make your senses tingles, and too blissful to make your mind spinning that left your heart fluttering. If not for his initiative to pull away, you didn’t think you would have the energy to stop where this would lead.

Sweet, he thought. He hummed in appreciation nipping your bottom lip. It was all he needed to somehow ease his beat-up body. If only love-making wouldn’t consume so much energy, he would’ve initiated it because, right now, he wants to feel you, to be inside you, to feed his soul with your love.

“Did you have dinner, yet?” He rested his forehead against yours. His eyes remained closed. Exhaustion etched on his flawless face. He didn’t want to you to witness this.

When you came in into his life, you have always had the goal of looking out for him. Something that he failed to do all his life. Ever since then, your first priority is his well-being. No one had cared for him the way you did for he was used to doing it with other people. And when he’s had a taste of your kind soul…so sweet, so addicting, how it reached even the darkest and deepest emotions kept  within him– he couldn’t just let you go, anymore. It was then he knew you were the one he was waiting for, the one whom he was preserving his love for. It doesn’t matter how hard this is for him. As long it’s for you and as long as you don’t witness this ever again. He reminded himself to tell you not to wait for him, anymore. To ease the guilt that was creeping into him.

“I just want to rest.” Kissing your temple, he headed upstairs. Your fingers interlaced with his, dragging you with him.

He only let go of your hand when both of you got inside your shared bedroom. A growing concern slowly engulfing you as you watched him moved languidly. Few seconds later that felt like hours for him, his bare back visible from your sight. Dress pants pooled in his feet as he scurried for something to change inside the closet. He seemed to be taking his time choosing an article of clothing. It was not the case, though. He was spacing out, barely functioning.

You couldn’t watch the scene, anymore. You went to his side, rescuing him from his dilemma. To prove his broken sense of his now battered mind to process an action, you easily picked a cotton pajamas and an over-sized cotton shirt both neatly stacked and folded right in front of him.

Throwing the pajamas in your shoulder, you gathered the cotton shirt in both hands. Fingers collecting both sides of the fabric vertically to easily maneuver his head on the hole. He didn’t even complain when you pushed it up on his eye level, instructing him to put it on his head. If it were in any other circumstances, he would whine and snatch the clothes in your hand, not wanting you to help him dress because he said he’s not a baby. Buttoning his dress shirt and helping him with his tie being the only exceptions.

Arms on the hole, pajamas tucked on his waist. He mumbled a thank you as he finally completed the simple task which in his beat-up state seemed to be a complicated one. He sauntered towards the bed.

The moment his back met the soft mattress, exhaustion finally hitting every core of his body. Groaning as the material felt so comforting and good against his worn out back.

“Jungkook,” A hand reached out to his arm, caressing the skin as if it could help him relieve his exhaustion. The smooth, velvety pads of your fingers felt like heaven against the burning muscle of his arm. It took the remaining energy of him to swallow down a moan threatening to come out from his throat.

“Hm?”

“You’re late again…”

“I’m fine, Jagi. It’s necessary for the project. Just until the launch and we’re good.”

“The launch? But that’s next month. Won’t that be too much–”

"Let’s sleep, my love. I’m too tired to function. We’ll talk tomorrow, is that okay with you?” You didn’t reply anymore knowing that you would eventually fail to properly talk to him in his state. You let out a sigh. You’re more than worried. What if he comes home tomorrow like this again? You were just concern for him. A weird feeling mixed with confusion consumes your mind as your inquiry was left hanging. As easy as that, thoughts started swirling in your mind like the devil it was.

With his eyes closed, he pat the space beside him, silently commanding you to lie down. Once you occupied the space, he lightly pulled you against him. Your cheek pressed down his chest, his lips pecking your temple before he nuzzled your hair. You closed your eyes with a heavy heart. Hand stuffing the material of his shirt out of habit. Seconds after he breathily confessed his love for you and just about you return it back, breathy snores were already coming out of his mouth.

At least, he didn’t forget. It was his habit to tell you that before you two fall asleep every night. In some nights, he would mumble sweet nothings with his love confession as his conclusion. In other nights, it was more than that. He would show you…once, twice, and more until your lungs hurt because you were chasing your next breath.

To your dismay, this went on for days. And the talk that he promised never happened. You were disappointed because this is the first time that it happened. Is it really possible to have shifts this long? The current law about labor only prescribes no longer than 12 hours for an employee a day. Suspicions started to cloud your mind. Maybe…it’s something else? You were quick to shake the thought away. He didn’t give you a reason to doubt him even though his time spent at work made you see and talk to him less. And you couldn’t just barge in inside the HR department demanding answers why your husband is having more than 12 hours of shift. Rumors spread like wildfire in your workplace. If you let your emotions take over, you’d do just that and in no time talks about you and Jungkook will be the next hot topic in your workplace.

It should not surprise you that he is so dedicated on his work. He’s never not hardworking with everything he does. Even with the part time jobs he’s had in the past. And in spite of his longer shifts at work, he remained caring and sweet to you, regardless of the lack of intimacy. He does not forget to give you a kiss before you two part in the lobby of the company and greet you in at night. He did not miss the chance tell you sweet nothings just before he’s put to slumber, despite how tired he was. You have no right to be suspicious. He was only working so hard for the sake of you, right? You forced the thought in your mind as an overwhelming feeling of turmoil envelops you so bad you were losing the ability to think sensibly. Keeps you awake at night until the early hours of morning. You don’t even know why you couldn’t just ask him what’s been bugging you instead of letting it eat your inner peace ever so slowly.

His consistent sweet gestures, reassurance and simply his presence you barely see kept you sane, temporarily.

It was one of those nights that you started to doubt his whereabouts when your nose caught a hint of alcohol. You knew, in particular, he didn’t drink. He gave you a kiss and you failed to taste a lingering liquor or any unpleasant flavor from his mouth. Aside from the alcohol, you did catch a mixture of other scents you cannot even pinpoint where he got it from. Did his workmates drink while they work? You were so confused and bothered at the same time that a literal dull ache sat in your head from thinking too much.

You followed him as he went straight to the bedroom. Unlike his hasten long strides, you were taking your time. Contemplating how to bring up your discovery.

His work clothes already changed into a sleepwear when you got inside. He was getting ready to sleep. You didn’t expect him to do anything else aside from sleeping. But you have to speak with him, now, or you’re not sure what it would cost you from prolonging your own agony.

“Can we talk?”

Jungkook was surprised with the tone of your question. He raised an eyebrow in confusion as he took in your presence. Is there something wrong? He admitted he has been busy with his work that your nightly conversations before you two sleep were halted. And now it seemed he was missing something. He promised to himself he would make it up to you when he saves enough money. He will take you to the island you’ve been googling about, even how expensive it is.

“What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know, Jungkook. You tell me. Why do you smell alcohol?”

You saw his face stilled. His body went rigid. You couldn't quite decipher what his expression is giving away. Is it guilt?

He tried to conceal his surprise hearing your inquiry. You weren't supposed to know and he wasn’t supposed to tell you. He knows how being at the pub owned by his cousin became a sensitive issue for you. Right after Jungkook graduated, you asked him not to work there, anymore.

He cleared his throat before speaking, “I…uh…went to Brews.”

Your eyes narrowing at his answer. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to Jin’s bar?” You pressed more. You were growing irritated realizing you know so little of his whereabouts, especially when he’s been to a place flocked with sexual predators. What else you don’t know about?

“I’m- I’m sorry…It was so sudden–”

“You could’ve at least called your waiting wife…”

“I didn’t– didn’t know you’d wait. I told you not to.” It was true. You received a text with the same reason he was using since the past few days. Should you really just not wait just because it’s what he told you? You want to make sure he’s okay and see it for yourself. That’s the only assurance you want to be at peace, especially knowing how Jungkook can go beyond his limit when it comes to work. A memory of him being rushed to the hospital because he couldn’t breathe properly all of a sudden while he was in his late night shift at Brews crossed your mind. The doctor said it doesn’t have anything to do with his heart. It was over-fatigue. And you’re scared it could happen again with the amount of time he’s been spending at work. And his unplanned meet-up with Jin, or so he said it was.

“You can’t just assume I won’t. Jungkook, I’m worried about you. You can’t expect me to sleep peacefully until I see you in one piece.”

“Jagi… I’m sorry…”

“We’re barely talking now. And I don’t know what’s really going on.”

“We’re fine, right? And you have nothing to worry about. I’m fine,”

“Are you really just working…or you have other plans you don’t tell me about? Just like your little meet-up with Jin…” You contested. His eyes in a matter of seconds turning darker, displeased with your answer. Jungkook felt offended as your inquiry is taking in a different route. He easily picked up what you were trying to do. You were silently accusing him. He may be keeping a secret from you, but he would never do that to you. Not when his madly in love with you that he couldn’t see himself living without you in the future.

“Are yo--what do you think I was doing?” Your determination to confront him deteriorating when you meet his burning gaze. Lump forming in your throat, making you suddenly mute. The thoughts that were consuming your mind suddenly gone as you searched for something to support your implication. “You think I’m cheating on you?” It is unfair for him. He has been nothing but caring to you, showing you how much you mean to him and he was not perfect– far from it. But he only wants you to trust him.

“No! Just…” You fumbled with words to say, “You were slipping away from me. What else would I think? You smelled alcohol and you didn’t tell me you’ve been to see Jin.” Sorrow filled you up that you feel your heart could burst from the possibilities that there might be someone who could fill your spot in his life.

“Have I not shown you how I feel? Is it not enough that you couldn’t put your trust on me?” As hard as it was spoken, it hit you just like that. Like a brick crushed against a concrete wall so hard it broke into pieces. It was your doubt that was crushed into crumbles. Once again, you were lost of words to say. Your head lowered in defeat. He could read your apology by the looks of your expression even if it was left unspoken.

“I…” Your mouth closed as you find your voice retreating from hesitance. The need to let out an apology dissipating into the thin air, right in front of you. Blinking your eyes, as if to free them from the moisture threatening to spill out.

“Rest your mind and trust me. Don’t ever doubt me, again. We won’t talk about this anymore.” The dull ache that’s been sitting in his heart because of his insecurities now replaced with a new kind, seeing you question his faith in your marriage. Afraid of where this confrontation would lead, he has to stop it before you get to know more even if it means showing you a cold facade. It wasn’t the right time for you to know.

“Jungkook…” You wanted to say sorry despite your inner voice telling you he’s hiding something.

“Sleep, Y/n.”

You felt so disappointed to yourself. More so that he became upset with you. He’s right. You didn’t have a reason to doubt him. It was just your mind making things up.

An idea suddenly crossed your mind, and just how fast it came, you were quick to shut it off your mind. But… would it hurt you to consider it? What else would it cost you more than Jungkook’s disappointment to you to talk to one of his colleagues without his knowledge? Is it right to do it?

Even if it isn’t, you realized you need to do it. For your own peace.

You whispered his name, wanting to apologize for stirring up an argument, unintentionally. But he didn’t answer. You failed to see if he’s still awake because his back was turned to you. In grief, you decided to sleep all your thoughts away. Hoping that tomorrow will be better in your favor.

~

The following day, you decided to talk to Taehyung– Jungkook’s closest colleague in the company. You texted him to meet you during the break. You couldn’t even eat because of what happened last night. Might just used the time to talk to his workmate.

A weird feeling sat still in your stomach as you see the tall, handsome and young workmate and close friend of your husband approaching in your direction. He bowed to you in respect. You did the same.

You were never good at reading people. But you could easily decipher the confusion dancing around his face. That you never meet him without Jungkook, and now you requested for him to meet you up out of nowhere behind Jungkook’s back. Maybe Jungkook would eventually know because Taehyung’s loyalty lies on Jungkook just as expected.

“Hey. I’m not sure why you need to see me. But it sounded urgent. So…” Taehyung intentionally left his statement hanging.

“No, it wasn’t but I need to talk to you about something. Maybe we should go outside?” You offered as you didn’t want others within your workplace to hear your conversation.

“Sure. Why do I get the feeling this is something serious?” He joked. You looked at him meaningfully, before you headed out of the lobby, remaining silent. A small cafe sits across the building, and you were going that way having Taehyung tailed you behind.

“Uhh.. is it? I’m sorry about that. I’m guessing it’s about Jungkook? Are you guys okay?”

“Yeah, we are.” You couldn’t just tell him you had upset your husband last night because you were suspecting him of something you cannot put to words. As you reached the end of your short journey, you entered the glass walled cafe. Taehyung, being several inches taller than you allowed him to see all the tables from his eye level, made him quickly choose a seat for two and maneuvered you towards the table.

“Maybe, we can order something before we…uh talk?” You offered. Hands fidgeting, nerves consuming your system. Why are you even nervous? You’re only going to ask him. It doesn’t mean your suspicion will be confirmed

“I’m fine, I just had my lunch before I came to see you. What about you?”

“No… I uh couldn’t…” Eat. The word was left hanging at the tip of your tongue. It would be embarrassing to let him know you had lost your appetite to eat since you’ve started getting suspicious of your husband.

Clearing your throat, “So…uh…you may have known that Jungkook is taking longer shifts for almost a week now. Right?” Taehyung nodded, telling you he has an idea of you were talking about.

“Uh…most of the team are. I was not one of them, fortunately. It must have been hard for them. They said the bosses are demanding tight confidentiality with the project after a hacker tried to get an info.” You heard that same story during a meeting, a week ago. So your husband is really just working? Taehyung’s expression remained serious, no sign of pretense was showing. Or maybe it was just you trying to convince yourself there was really no ordeal going on.

“That was what I heard. But, you guys haven’t been out, have you? Like…hang out or something?” Taehyung may be that innocent charmer from the IT department, and avoids drama in the workplace at all cost. But your question put him off guard. He quickly caught an implication.

“Not with me, no. Perhaps… are you worried for something else? You feel something is up? I’m sorry I couldn’t help you. You should talk to him.” You already tried and he ended up being mad at you, you argued mentally. Perhaps, there really is nothing to be suspicious of? That it was just your mind playing tricks on you? That Jungkook really is just at the company until after midnight together with his workmates in an inhumanely shift?

Suddenly a wash of exhaustion coming over you, your shoulders slowly slumping. This was going nowhere.

“I know. I just… Can you… just not mention this to him?”

“Of course, I wont. I hope you two settle whatever this is before it gets worse.”

“Thank you,Taehyung. And I apologize for bothering you… it was just me being paranoid.”

“That’s not a problem. You don’t have to worry, though. Your husband loves you.”

You heaved a long sigh. See, there’s nothing. It’s just a stupid nonsense accusation. It was a dead end.

In spite of wanting to see him and try to clear things up, you’re scared you will upset him more or that another argument happens.

When Taehyung left, you went straight to the restroom. Locking yourself up in one of the cubicles, needing an outlet to let all the emotions that have been sitting there– in your heart. You couldn’t stop the tears despite your efforts of trying to wipe your cheeks dry.

He loves you. He never fails to remind you how much you mean to him. Every night and every chance that he get, he tells you how he feels. The way he kisses you, touches you… gentle, and full of passion. And when he makes love to you…it is a blissful moment tinge with his possessiveness marking you as his which lingers to your skin, to your lips. He is your only lover. Yet, you knew it was different. The way he did it with you is different from his past experiences. 

Your overwhelming emotions let the moist in your eyes flow uncontrollably. And as you fall deeper, submerged through your emotions, a slight spell of dizziness washed through you. And it made you snap from reality. You had to stop. In that moment, the urge to see the person occupying your thoughts all this time is so powerful that you didn’t realize too soon as your fingers quickly typed in a text for him until it was too late, your thumb had already pressed the send button. To: Husband Hey You didn’t expect him to reply right away. Or even give you one. Maybe, you can call him later, instead? You were fine with whenever. Just… you need to see him. To your surprise, he replied seconds after you pressed the send button. From: Husband Jagi? Hey, you alright? To: Husband I’m fine, just want to see you. Can I? From: Husband Right now? To: Husband If you’re not busy… From: Husband Where are you? I’ll come to you. To: Husband The café across the building. From: Husband Okay, Jagi. I’ll come down in 15. Reading his last reply, you straightened yourself up. Trying as much as you can to wipe your tear stained cheeks clean. Heaving a sigh, you headed in front of the lengthy mirror thankful there was no one else in the restroom to see your mess of a face. You had to be decent enough when he sees you. You shouldn’t have cried too much, now you couldn’t hide your puffy eyes even with your extreme efforts. And despite using a darker shade of eyeshadow to put some color to your eyelids, it was no use. You hoped Jungkook wouldn’t so much as noticed the evidence of your little episode.

When you walked out of the restroom, you went to the table positioned at the farthest corner of the rectangular shaped cafe because it was the least public seat.

Everything was okay. You and Jungkook were happy and contented together—in the midst of a blissful marriage for almost two years now. Sure there were arguments and petty fights here and there. But this—you never experienced this before, ever since you got into a relationship with him. That you sense, even in the slightest bit, that there is something going on.

It was not just what your instinct telling you that he is keep something from, it was also him that works himself tirelessly. Seeing him how he much he pays attention to his job brings you nostalgia. The same Jungkook you met back when you were still studying and he was balancing two or three part time jobs and few classes in college. He wanted to finish his degree and he did. But it was never easy. Life never did go smoothly on his favor, as opposed to yours. He had to earn everything he had and wanted. Even his basic needs were deprived of him. He was lucky if he had three meals in a day. Because he was always in short of money and he had to pay for college fees, his food allowances were sacrificed. Jimin, his bestfriend since high school, told you that. Your husband would never share that with you. It broke you down…how a beautiful person and a pure hearted soul could experience so much miseries in this world. You wish you could take all his pain away…if that were possible.

That same Jungkook was resonating in him, again. It was agonizing to watch him suffer.

“Hey…Jagi…” A familiar voice called you softly, pulling you out of your abstraction. He was standing there right in front of you. Smile adorning his face, like he was happy to see you. You didn’t say anything. Lost for words. What would you even say to him? You made him upset. Until he bends over to plant a small peck in you cheek. You blinked, not really sure how you’re supposed to act after what happened last night.

Only after a few seconds of silence between the two of you when you decided to whisper, “Hi,” and to your dismay, it came out awkward. In the hopes of trying to send him an indication that his presence gives you comfort, you tried to smile sincerely. Because you were really happy to see him. Having thoughts about his past is just not helping you to lighten up your mood just as much as you want him to see.

He sat on the chair across your seat, staring intently at you. In a matter of seconds, his smile was replaced into a worry tainting his beautiful face. You couldn’t stand the intensity of his gaze so you shifted your attention to your fingers.

“Jagi…have you been crying? Are you alright?” He knows you like the back of his hand. Your eyes easily becomes puffy and red when you cry. Looking at you now, he could already tell even if he didn’t word out his thought. After the little confrontation, you two didn’t exchange words with each other since then. He felt bad shutting you off last night and he was too ashamed to initiate a conversation earlier this morning. You avoided him in the morning like the plague, anyway. So he didn’t expect receiving a text from you so suddenly.

“Hey… I’m sorry–”

“Why are you saying sorry? It’s me who should apologize.” You sniffed, and seeing you like this triggered his guilt— regret, and grief intensifying the forlorn emotion so strong it was making his insides weak, helplessly. He watched you wiped your tears in haste.

“I made you feel this way, didn’t I? I hate it… I hate seeing you like this. Please stop crying, Jagi. It’s making me weak.” Witnessing you in this state with so much vulnerability right in front of him is the last thing he wants to see, especially if it was him that had caused it. He could beg on his knees if it is the only way to make you stop.

“I’m fine. I just needed to see you and… to apologize. After what happened last night… I wanted us to make up.”

“You have nothing to apologize.”

“But…you’re mad!” You quietly exclaimed, interjecting his statement.

“I was, yes. But to myself. It’s my fault. You wouldn’t be like this if I didn’t give you a reason to.”

“I’m sorry…” He didn’t speak. Yet, his eyes that had never left you since he came here stared at you with so much passion that he was almost soothing your sorrow away. Almost.

“D-Do you…do you trust me?” His voice was meant to be calm and tender. It broke, as fear was slowly consuming his heart. That you couldn’t give him answer. Too afraid to admit you couldn’t put your trust on him, anymore.

Nodding your head more than twice while breathily replying, “Yes,” as if to give emphasis to the intensity of your answer from his query. He was quick in his feet to gather you in his arms. Muttering sweet nothings to your ear, too engrossed with his emotions to care about the eyes around that watched them in awe perceiving them as a lovely couple on a sweet daze in the early stage of their romance.

Relief washed over him. Now he just needed to work harder to save up and end his wife’s sorrow.

~

Jungkook You were asleep when he got home that night.

He was relieved you didn’t see how beat up he was. He was relieved you didn’t see him getting home at two in the morning. He didn’t want to make it harder for you just as it was for him

Jungkook almost crawled his way to the bedroom. He’s been aching to touch you and kiss you. Despite seeing you everyday, it was not enough to keep himself from missing you. The thought of you gives him the strength to wake up everyday. You are his determination to work harder to give you a decent life. It may not be luxurious like the life you had with your family. But he’s trying to provide everything for you. It’s his duty to worry about making ends meet as the provider of this family.

To fulfill his promise of keeping that happiness to you is to do the things you want. It was one fine day a month ago, you brought up your desire of wanting to have a late post-marriage honeymoon with him, since you never had one before. He didn’t miss the sparkle in your eyes as
 you talk about your excitement going to a beautiful island with him. His eyes also never missed how your face fell when he told you he couldn’t leave work, yet. It felt like his heart was torn into pieces seeing how you’ve gone quiet and caught you later on sniffling quietly in the bathroom.

He never felt so helpless in that moment. He couldn’t just tell you the truth. That he cannot afford to bring you to Maldives. That was what he discovered on your laptop’s search history. Although he was unsure, he promised you. You two will have a vacation. He just needs to look for a part time work to make it real. He agonizingly endured the past exhaustive days in order to save up. Though he was not sure when he would get enough money for the vacation he’s planning for the two of you.

His arms wrapped around your body. Nuzzled your hair to smell your lavender scented shampoo. You’ve been using it for quite some time after he told you he loves the scent. He whispered a sweet, "I love you” before sleep consumes him.

~

It was Sunday. You were not supposed to wake up earlier than usual as it was a day off of work. This is the only time you get to wake up whenever you want. However, a blaring sound of a phone ringing stirred you up much earlier than you want. You tried to search for the source of the sound from your position. However, you can only move your head as warm muscular arms were wrapped around you that restricted your desire to get up. You carefully pried his arms away not to wake him up just yet, slowly and carefully wiggling your way out of the bed.

It was Jungkook’s that was placed on the coffee table near the closet door. Reaching out for the phone, you quickly pressed the answer button, hoping not to wake him up. You answered it without knowing the caller’s name as you walked towards the far corner of the bed. You peered behind your shoulders, your husband remained still between the sheets. No sign of consciousness just yet. Sighing in relief, you pressed the phone against your ear.

“Hel—” The caller interrupted before you even got the chance to speak.

“Jungkook-ah! Don’t worry about your shift tonight, I found a temporary staff.”

Caught off guard, you blinked. He sounded familiar. W-what did he say? What’s going on? Consciousness slowly coming back to you as your mind trying to process his words.

The moment you recognized the owner of the voice, it’s almost so hard to utter his name. You wished it wasn’t him because it would make sense. “Seokjin?”

“Wait—oh is this Y/N? Is Jungkook there?”

“Yes its, Y/N. My husband is still asleep. I’m not quite sure what you mean?” you muttered, confused. And anger so quick in fueling within you, that it was blazing enough to hear your insides crumble into ashes as you finally comprehend the news he unintentionally spilled to the person your husband has kept it from.

“Oh, just tell him he doesn’t have to work tonight.” Even though you heard him the first time, tiny pieces of hope still tries to convince you that you didn’t hear him right. Last time you checked, Jungkook is not working in his cousin’s bar. He would never lie to you, right?

“Work? In Brews?” You whispered shakily. It makes sense…just as how much your mind is contradicting what he said, it made sense. 

“You—you don’t know? Oh, I’m sorry about that. I’m not sure why he didn’t tell you. All he asked is to give him a part time here.” You felt his sudden concern. Yet, it was overpowered by your husband’s betrayal. So this is what he was keeping to you. He lied to you?

An urge to throw up the muffin you had barely touch last night suddenly wants to surface from your throat. Your hand flew up in your mouth as your chest constricted from so much emotions. It took so much of you to choke the sob threatening to spill from your mouth any second now.

“He’s working as a what?” It took everything in you to calmly utter another question. Because you didn’t know what you were capable of, when your emotions are at bay. You didn’t want to regret when it’s too late.

“The usual, bartending. I hope you’re not mad. Anyways, if you want I’ll tell him not to come anymore if it worries you.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell him myself. Thanks.” You quickly ended the call. A million thoughts reeling inside your mind, tormenting you with the reality. It must be a dream— no, a nightmare. And you just wanted to wake up. In his arms. Where you feel safe and unharmed. His arms that comfort you, and protect you from the world. But here you were, awake. Meters away from the man, who you thought could protect you from any harm, is also the same man who could inflict so much pain in your heart right now.

Staring at his sleeping figure snuggled up in the bed, you fought back the tears that were trying to come out. You’ve done a lot of crying since the past few days and now it made you realized just how weak you really are.

You can feel your whole body shaking from the burning anger. You didn’t know how long you were trying to calm yourself. Why did he have to keep this from you? Why did he make himself suffer? You felt so betrayed, you’re afraid you cannot control yourself from breaking. No—you were breaking. The rational in you tried to convince you to hear his reasons. That maybe, it would help to understand his action—his lies. Did he want to intentionally hurt? Knowing that bending over your agreement with him would emotionally cause you pain?

You remained glued to the corner of the room, turning your gaze away from him. You decided to go out of the bedroom to breathe some air despite the fury that’s telling you to wake him up and confront him about his lies. It was not just about him hiding it from you, it was the fact that he went back working at Jin’s bar when you asked not to, years ago…

When you met Jungkook, you realize he was not just a part-time student and a bartender with a pretty face. Everyone likes him. Unlike you who has few friends given that you are aloof and introvert, he has a lot of friends despite being shy and reserved. He was not only liked by people, he was also everyone’s favorite. By everyone means even the customers of Brews– especially female ones. You witnessed with your own eyes how eager the female predators were in trying to gain his attention. Even so much as offering him a huge amount of money to make him date any of them. Everyone’s advances were turned down. He was polite to turn them down. They were customers, after all. You didn’t like it one bit, especially the sexual advances happening here and there being Jungkook as the prey didn’t dissipate. You never questioned his loyalty, because you felt the sincerity of his feelings to you. It was the bold women who kept hitting on him despite turning them down that bothered you.

Working there again behind your back, brings you pain more than it fuels your ire. Why did he want to go back there, anyway? You don’t even think it’s for money. You both have it securely in the joint account you opened two years ago. He always tells you he takes care of everything–even the household expenses. It was the reason why you saved your own salary securely in the bank for you both have a spare when he runs out of it and for the future—kids and all that stuff.

Suddenly, you heard a movement. And you knew it was him because there’s no one else in the apartment other than you and him. He’s awake now. You saw him first before he did. You were at the kitchen. And when he found you, he made his way to you. He was half naked, and if you weren’t so consumed with intense forlorn emotions, you would have adored how tone his body is despite being married to you for more than two years.

His eyes smiled before it reached down his mouth seeing. He was about to bend over to plant a kiss against your mouth to greet you, his mouth only millimeters away from yours when you turned your head in another direction. Lips ending up pressed in your cheek. He slowly stepped back in confusion. Seeing a blank face painted in your face, he sensed the tension slowly building up in the thin air despite being unaware of what you just discovered.

“Is something wrong?” He tried to reach for you. A habit of his when he sense an argument is coming, thinking that it would help ease your mind.

You held out his phone.

“Jin said you don’t have to work at your shift tonight.” The moment you dropped the bomb, he knew it was over for him. There would be nothing but to face your impending ire.

You calmly placed the phone in the counter top before you turned around. In a lightning speed, he caught your arm, placing you much closer against him. You couldn’t stand his touch. Not when you’re fuming with anger and broken in sorrow. You could just melt down and forgive him right there and then.

“Jagi…hear me out please.” You tried to push him away. And you know you have no match with his strength. His frame towered your body. Arms firmly holding your shoulders. His eyes sought your raging gaze. The same eyes that showed you so much passion, love, happiness are now staring with so much emotions. One of which you were able to decipher was the guilt. Jungkook knows he has no match against your steely expression. You were standing so close to him. Yet, your eyes were giving it all. It was your heart that was burning with so much pain.

“Don’t touch me.” You gritted out. Jungkook didn’t release his hold of you. Afraid that you might vanished in front of his eyes. You were just so consumed with your anger that you don’t care how he begged for your attention to listen to him. “Jagi, please… Just give me a minute.“

"No. A lie is a lie. Let me go, Jungkook.” You seethed, yet so calmly spoken. As you pushed him one more time, he loosened his grip against your body which gave you the opportunity to step away from him. And for the first time of the day, you looked straight into his eyes. His eyes danced with so much regret, and fear as you shoot him with emotions he never wanted to see coming from you.

“Please… Y/N…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—” his hands pushed forward as if he was trying to reach out to you— except they were frozen mid-air. Not moving in between the space of the two of you.

“You didn’t mean to what? To lie? To hide this from me? I thought we agreed you wouldn’t come back there to work.”

“I’m sorry, Jagi. I know you’re worried. That would be the last time, I—I promised.”

“I just don’t understand what is this for-”

“You know how I feel about providing everything for you. I just want to be able to give everything that you need.” You took in every word he said, in the hopes of being able to understand his side. And as you try harder, his words, no more than a consolation, only felt like a knife slicing down the hope of you being needed in return by the same person you have been needing of.

“It’s all about you providing for me? Then what about me… I’m working too… to help you. To save up for our future.”

"I need you, by my side, as my wife…”

It’s true. He needs you and only you. With this thought in mind, he failed to understand what you simply hoped for as his wife. He failed to see that all this time in this marriage, you were waiting for him to treat you equally as rhe one he can lean on in everything he takes care of. Sure he lets you in charge of the household—cooking, buying groceries, doing the laundry like you wanted to, preparing and decorating the house for special occasions— it was just that. Everything else were left on his capable, experienced hands. Not letting you have a glimpse of the cruelty of living a simple life…

“We’re married and that means the two of us should work together. Why do you always try to carry everything? Do you even know how that makes me feel? It was worse than how my parents controlled me all my life.”

“It was not my intention. I want to give you a decent life, if I can’t give you a grand life.”

“I told you over and over I don’t care about my life in the past! You’re my husband, not some guardian who has to tend to my every need. I also want to feel like you need me like I do to you,” You sighed, “Why are we going back to this discussion anyway, you’re not even listening to me.” More than the anger that kept fueling inside you as the two of you skirted deeper into the confrontation, it was out of frustration that made you snapped the words that continued to spill forward.

“When have I not, I’m always eager to listen to whatever you say. It keeps me sane to know I’m making you happy.”

“Then why did you lie?! We’ve agreed you won’t ever take another job–more so at Brews.”

“I just want to save up–”

You were growing more and more exhausted as a wave of confusion hit you. There were too many emotions flooding your mind. Too much for you to take it all in. Now, you just want to vanish for a moment in the hopes of all your miseries fading with you. You don’t want any of it, anymore. “Why do you want to save up? We have the money…”

“I wanted to give you the holiday, to surprise you for our wedding anniversary. Isn’t that enough reason to save up?” Just like that, your heart felt like it was being ripped out of you. And you were just there letting it unfold you how he forwardly disregard the money that you worked so hard of… for the two of you, for your future family.

“Why did I even put all the money I worked hard for in our account if we don’t ever use it? I’m done with this argument. I get it, you don’t need me when it comes to my money.” You were about to turn around, away from him. Away from this all because the more you argue with him, the greater the damage it’s inflicting on you. You feel so stuffy with the pain sitting in your heart. Having a glimpse of the sky, and the sun might calm you down. You want to go outside. But he stopped you even before you took a step away from him, catching your arm in his hand.

“Wh-what? What do you mean? I told you to save them up. They are yours.” As if his words have burned you, you tried so hard to distance yourself more away from him. Full of pain and exhaustion, you let out a shaky breathe. As if a single ounce of air could take away all that’s hurting you. You wished the world would stop spinning so you can turn back the time…before all of this had happened. Far from the ordeal that is standing so tall and so destructively between you and Jungkook. Now you have to face the reality. That all this time, you were never really wanted by someone you love so sincerely, so passionately. Just like how it was in the past. With your parents.

Slowly recollecting the past, you recounted, “You know, I saved up one time when I was in middle school to buy my parents gifts for Christmas. I could buy them that with their own money, but I chose to save up because I thought it would be more meaningful if I sacrificed a little for them. And when Christmas came, my gifts were left unopened under the Christmas tree like the rest of the gift decorations. The next day, all of the gifts were thrown away including the ones I bought for them. It shattered me, because I didn’t know the same people who nurtured me to be someone could also make me feel useless.”

“Y/n...“

Silence.

Despite your efforts of understanding him, you failed to see the truth in his eyes for you were so hurt with his lies, with the past resurfacing like a slap on your face...you failed to understand that his action was caused by his fear. He was lacking, said your parents. Their judgment has been branded on his mind since then. And one day, when you get tired of this simple life that took so much of him for you to have– you will leave him. To go back with the life where you have everything or be with someone who deserves you more than he does. It was that fear that drove him to take all the hardship away from you. Because you were not used to it. You were that delicate flower in a garden full of grasses that needs to be taken care of cautiously. Jungkook is used to the pain and miseries of the world. So he took all of it. To keep you from blooming. To keep you from giving beauty to the garden that is his life.

Now he’s watching you lose your beautiful petals–all because of his flawed perception. You might be as tender as a flower, but Jungkook’s love made you grow that you learned to be strong and in time, his love made you strong.

“That’s how I feel, right now.”

Your life, even before you were born, was already planned by your parents. Guiding–more like controlling your every move, every decision, every chapter in you life. Everything they wanted for you is the only option. Yours are not even heard of, or spoken. In the process, your passion for writing was long forgotten. And you didn’t complain. You thought you had no right to. Every need, every want and more were offered to you all your life. You had friends who struggled to live independently because their parents couldn’t afford to support them or who are simply poor that eating three meals in a day cannot be guaranteed. So you appreciated everything you have, until it was all there’s left from you. That simply living was breaking you apart.

Your parents love you, as much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise. The only offspring of their marriage born after 3 years of trying, and consulting from medical practitioners. It was the reason why your life was programmed only with their desires. You understand, it was to secure your future because you’re the only they have. As cliché as it sounds, you were the obedient daughter every parent wants. Were.

Years passed. You learned. Academically? Excellently, yes. But that’s only it. Perhaps, it sounds fulfilling and a fruit of pride for your parents. Deep inside, rotten. With passion and dreams kept deep through your soul, withering. Nothing else can grow it back to life. Or is there?

The only thing that kept you sane was your interest in learning things. Your favourites— history and
 art. You explored your way through libraries and museums. Your sources of both distraction and temporary happiness.

College came and taught you more than what academic lectures and books have offered. You realized your situation is no ordinary. Because you met a lot of rich students along the way but they have lived differently, on the path that they wanted to take. Unlike you.

People may have perceived your family as the perfect one, and you as a someone who has everything. They were wrong. You missed that one thing all your life. Freedom. And so, one day, you tried to negotiate it with your parents. To live on your own while you finish your degree. They objected, you were not surprised. But the thirst of freedom needs to be quenched for your own sanity. For the first time in life, you didn’t talk to them for days, even weeks. Until one day, they went to your dorm. Fetching you for Christmas break which you had no plan of spending with them. You were supposed to spend it by yourself. To explore, to find yourself.

They tried to convince you to go home. Even offered you a new car. Ridiculous. Nothing can make you changed your mind.

Until they agreed. Favouring your request. But their condition, you will only live independently after graduation.

“I just want to feel needed,” You whispered. Like a dam that couldn’t hold too much water flowing from the stream, tears pooled out of your eyes, blurring your sight. The hole that has slowly healed from years of Jungkook’s effort, you could feel it, again. Slowly breaking you. Is it impossible? For a person to make you whole, and for him to break you again? The worst part is you couldn’t hate him for it.

“I do… I need you, Y/n…please…stop it now. I couldn’t stand seeing you like this.” Jungkook was not sure what he was pleading for. He wanted to take all your pain away. It was too much for him to take watching you break right in front of his eyes. He promised you. That it would be different. Living with him would be different. That he would do everything in his power to make you happy, which you never was all your life. In the process of keeping his promise, he realized he was only doing the exact opposite of it. He was making you suffer more… and now it was breaking you.

You nodded. Even though you’re not sure, anymore. He wouldn’t lie to you, right? He needs you, you wanted to believe what he said. And you smiled bitterly just as you remembered that the cause of this dispute were his lies.

He cupped your face, forcing you to look at him. He whispered pleadingly, “I need you…”

It was a rough year in law school when you met Jungkook. It was your first time going to a bar. Jihyo, your friend, persuaded you to go with her. Saying you needed to unwind because it was the stress that caused you quite a few failed exams. Your freedom? So close to your fingers. Just one more year before your graduation.

But meeting him was the plot twist of your life. Suddenly, it was him that you wanted, it was him your soul is craving for.

The deep, dark hole in you that scarred your whole being slowly healed. Jungkook was there, providing you with everything you didn’t know you were craving for all your life.

His personality a breath of fresh air. He was older than you but seems younger by heart. He is beautiful—perfect even. But not arrogant. Adventurous but responsible. Struggling in life but never giving up. He’s had flings but preserves love for the right person.

And then there was you. Nothing you have to be proud of. Nothing you can brag and share with him just as much as he did to you. You learned a lot from him—generally, in life, through his stories.

He’s the light to your dark, and dull life. He is everything that you’re not, but everything that you need of. And the one you desire. He taught you everything he has, and in the process, you fell hard. You knew it was happening. The moment that you laid eyes on him, it was over for you. Only months after dating with him without your parents’ knowledge that you accepted the fact. That he has owned your heart since the first time.

He was there. He caught you. Cherished you. Loved you with all he has, in the most tender way he know. For him, he has nothing to offer but his love… so fierce… the only thing he can give to you sincerely… so deep even your soul craved for him. And as delicate as you are, you have loved him with the same amount of intensity as his. For him, it is enough. Your love for him is enough to see the beauty in life. For him, it is you.

Posted on 120219

mintseesaw © 2019

⇀

A/N: Let me know if there are any typos and errors as I wouldnt find the time to edit this just yet

[keanu-fics]

Bad Attitude

A John Wick fic

So I wrote a 3k word fic instead of a 2k word essay due on Monday.

Just violence in this one. You work at a bar and start meeting John during your smoke breaks, not knowing who he is.

It was late night and you were having a smoke outside a bar. The same shitty bar that you worked at and would not finish your shift for another couple hours. You were leaning against a dirty wall of the bar, feeling its coolness through the thin fabric of your uniform. Your work top was white, and you were secretly hoping it would get so filthy, that the men inside the bar would stop hitting on you and slapping your ass. The taste of the cigarettes was not enjoyable for you, but it was the only way you could get an extra break during your shifts. How unfair was it that you could get special treatment just for being a smoker?

You looked up while blowing out smoke and could see stars through the tiny space between the tall buildings of New York City. You used to stargaze when you were younger, living in a countryside, studying to be a doctor, hoping for a better tomorrow. The sound of footsteps drew you away from your reminiscing. You could see a tall figure dressed in a black suit walking away from the Continental Hotel, that was across the street from your bar. Anyone who stays at a hotel like that, would never drink at a place like this.

You did not know much about the Continental. There were rumours about it, but you did not believe them. The man was now closer and definitely walking towards you. His suit fit him perfectly and you could tell that he was someone who would spend his evening drinking expensive Scotch, not the watered-down piss you sold. You looked away as he was only a few feet away now, not wanting him to know you had been staring at him.

The man stopped nearby where you were smoking and from the corner of your eye, you could see him reach into his pocket and pull out a pack of smokes. He took one out and you could feel his stare.

“You have light?” he asked you.

You glanced in his direction, “No.” you said abruptly and looked away again. You had your lighter on you, but you were not going to play his game. He was probably looking for a one-night stand. These rich guys were always into weird shit.

The man only smiled to himself and reached back into his pocket, took out a lighter and went ahead to light his cigarette. “John.” he mumbled, with the cigarette between his lips.

“Pleasure.” you said with a piercing sarcasm, took one last drag of your cigarette and flicked it on the ground that was already littered with cigarette butts.

“You are a real delight.” he pointed out.

What was his problem? You were not here to exchange snarky one-liners. “I get that a lot.” you gave him one last glance before going back inside the bar.

The rest of your shift was as dehumanising as it usually gets. Drunk regulars demanding your attention, some drunk women demanding free drinks because it was apparently one of their birthdays. A glass being thrown across the bar and a bar fight about to erupt, but the two men were all talk, no fists.

Your manager left it all for you to clean up once everyone was gone. You knew he would try to get away with not paying you the overtime, but Derek was a coward and you would deal with him tomorrow. It took you a good half an hour to get everything sorted and up to the low standards of the bar. The floor was always covered in spilled drinks and broken glass.

Since then you have seen John more frequently during your shifts. He would always show up during your smoke breaks. Sometimes he would already be waiting outside, smoking, and you had a feeling that he had been waiting. You would always exchange about two sentences worth and never acknowledge him more than necessary.

After about two weeks of his very random appearances, you felt you were almost looking forward to seeing him every evening. You would occasionally smile at him, but still not talking much, liking the silence between you two. But then one night your smoke break was over and he did not show up. You took one more break, smoking two cigarettes in a row just to buy yourself more time, but still no John. It was the same for the next week. He would not show up again.

Another night, after you had finished your close you were walking home while texting a guy you met yesterday, even though you were positive he only wanted sex. And what the hell, you have not been with anyone in almost a year. You smiled when he offered for you to come over and watch your favourite horror film, but the invitation was immediately followed by a dick pic. You were about to block the guy, when you heard low grunting from further ahead. You looked up, ready to dial 911 if it turned out to be a pervert.

It was John. He was limping and holding his side with his hand. He was looking down at the pavement and had to stop for a moment and lean against a fence for support. He looked like he was in agony.

“John.” you whispered to yourself. You stuffed your phone in your pocket and ran towards him. “John, John, hey.” you spoke to him softly, grabbing him under his armpits, preventing him from sliding onto the ground. “You’re okay.” You were now trying to pull him to his feet.

He either recognised your voice, because there was no way he could see out of his swollen eye, or he was willing to trust anyone right now to get him help. He grabbed your arm firmly and stood up with your help.

“Do you want me to take you to the hospital?”

“No!” he said resolutely, and you were not going to waste time arguing. You did not know what kind of trouble he got himself into, but questions later.

“Okay, c’mon.” you groaned as you were supporting his body weight, starting to make some steady progress towards your apartment.

You got him up the stairs by a pure miracle you thought, but he must have had so much more fight in him despite his current state. You opened the front door to your tiny flat, that consisted of a living room practically inside your kitchen, with a large old couch and no TV. You helped him onto the couch and he practically sank into it with a heavy sigh of relief.

“Okay, okay…” you were mumbling to yourself as you locked the door behind you. You ran into the bathroom where you kept a first aid kit and brought it to the living room. You could not see anything through John’s dark clothing, you only saw pools of blood soaked into his clothes and getting rubbed off on your couch. You loosened his tie and moved it to the side and started unbuttoning his black vest and shirt. Immediately you could see more blood. You did not want to move him before inspecting the injuries, so you cut the fabric off and saw what looked like a bullet hole. “Shit, John.” you mumbled, knowing how much this would hurt getting stitched up.

“I still don’t know your name.” he croaked, chuckling to himself. You thought he was close to passing out, so the question took you aback.

“Y/N.” you answered.

“Thank you.” he said, smiling.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed a bottle of alcohol.

“I’m sorry John.” you mumbled, before starting treating the wound. You cleaned it to make sure the bullet was not still in his body, but of course it was. His screams were loud, and he was slipping in and out of consciousness while you were working on getting the bullet out and stitching him up. After you had bandaged him, you carefully undressed him, looking for any more wounds, but he seemed alright.

He seemed delirious, but you helped him up on his feet again and dragged him to your bed. You tucked him in and were so exhausted yourself, you quickly fell asleep on the couch.

 In the morning you woke up first. You have not slept much but you felt high on adrenaline. You peaked in through the bedroom door to make sure John was okay. You never shut the curtains last night, so a pool of morning light was illuminating John’s face. Only then you realised how beautiful he really was. His beard perfectly framing his face, his expression soft now that he was sleeping. You had no idea who he has pissed off or who he was in a gun fight with but somehow, he still looked innocent, even caked in dried blood.

You quietly closed the bedroom door behind you and went to make yourself some coffee and toast. John was still asleep by lunch time and you decided he must wake up soon, so you started cooking and squeezing fresh orange juice just for him.

When everything was ready, you heard noises from your bedroom and soon after John came out. He was wearing his bloodied suit, but since his shirt was cut into pieces from you attending to his first aid yesterday, he was wearing his black jacket over a naked torso.

John was standing in the middle of your small living room/kitchen, staring you down. “Y/N.” he said, his eye looking so much better than yesterday.

You could not believe he remembered your name. You were sure the physical pain from yesterday would cause him to block out most of last night.

He looked around your place, seeing his dried blood on your couch. The coach was so old and a disgusting shade of green, some blood stains were not going to make it look any worse. He spotted his shoes next to the couch and practically dove for them.

“So much for thanks.” You lashed out, eyeing him angrily.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I owe you my life, but I have to run.” He made his way across the room, standing in front of you, cupping your cheek. “I’ll be back later.”

He said softly and suddenly he was out the front door.

“What are you talking about?” you yelled after him, later turning your freshly squeezed juice into a screwdriver.

 ~~~~~

Being a woman, you had plenty of experience getting rid of blood from fabric, but the dried blood on your bed sheets was now so old, it would not come off. You left the old sheets out to dry and took a nap before work.

At work you did not take a smoke break. You did not want to in case you ran into John. The way he just ran away like that, after you had saved his life. Who does that?

Your shift was coming to and end and your hands were trembling with how desperately you wanted a cigarette. You kept telling yourself you were not an addict, you only smoked for that extra work break. But apparently your body was getting hooked on nicotine.

You took a tray of beers to a group of older guys, who were rowdy and extremely inappropriate with you, but they were also regulars so you had to behave yourself. After excusing yourself and tightly hugging the tray against your chest, probably in a subconscious attempt to hide yourself behind it, you could see one of the guys getting ready to smack your ass. You squinted your eyes, but the slap never came. You turned around and saw John, holding the guy by his wrist, looking absolutely ballistic.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” John hissed at the guy and you saw all of his other bald friends immediately stand up. They were angered and John was not letting go of the guy’s hand. “Apologise.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” One of the guys snapped back at John, cracking his knuckles. John let go of the first guy’s hand and clenched his fists.

Derek was standing behind the bar, pretending to be busy, but once he saw what was going on in his bar, he ran over to the group. “Hey, hey, fellas, you will take this outside!” he commanded, smirking at John who was not a regular here and would probably get killed out there with all these guys jumping him.

The group nodded, leaving their drinks at the table, heading outside to beat the shit out of John. You grabbed John’s hand, stopping him. “John, please don’t.” you pleaded. He certainly looked like someone who could take care of himself, but not against six other men.

He cupped your check with his other hand, a familiar gesture from earlier. You then watched him walk out the door, your heart breaking.

“Y/N, you got customers to serve.” Derek snarled at you and you considered his words for a moment.

You looked up at him, anger in your eyes, throwing your apron at his feet. “You know what, Derek, fuck you.” You did not know if you were quitting or if you would come back tomorrow, begging for your job back, but all you could feel right now was anger. “I will be back for my tips later.” You exclaimed, heading outside. Not that you ever got a lot of tips.

You made it outside quickly and you were ready to throw yourself between John and those assholes, knowing you might get hit, but they would not beat up a girl.

Instead you walked into a bunch of guys groaning on the ground, the rest running away drunkenly. John was standing in front of you, not another scratch on him, apart from the yesterday’s cuts and bruises. You were looking at John in shock, unsure of what had happened.

“They fight sloppy.” Was all he said before fixing a crease on his suit. “You finished your shift?” he asked and as you nodded, he put his arm around your waist, deciding to take you somewhere nicer for a drink.

[fanfic-collection]

Honeymooners Pt 4

By the time you made it back to the room, it was late in the evening. It hadn’t been the most straining of days physically, but the long car trip and dealing with your tumultuous emotions had you exhausted.

Loki yawned tiredly, stretching his arms above his head. A glow of green engulfed him and his formal attire was slowly replaced with a simple pair of black sleeping bottoms.

Grumbling, you searched in your bags for something to wear, “Couldn’t you do that for me?”

Loki chuckled running his hand through his hair, “I’ve no idea what you want to wear, not even sure if I have something that would suit you in my repertoire.”

You pulled out a lacy satin top with thin shoulder straps that looked like it would cutoff mid thigh. Holding it up, you gazed at it warily. Loki walked up behind you and raised his eyebrow. You glanced over your shoulder, “I didn’t pack this...”

“SHIELD packed everything.” Loki reminded you.

“Did they forget we’re not actually married?”

Loki chuckled softly, “I suppose if anyone walks in on us, it would matter that you look the part.”

You fumbled through the bag, looking for something more comfortable but sighed, realizing all the pyjamas were of a similar style to that one. “I can’t sleep in any of the dress clothes they got me, I’d be so uncomfortable.” You held it up to your chest, trying to imagine yourself in it.

Loki shrugged, “Curious that it’s green as well.”

You scowled at him, watching him sink onto the lounge. “What are you doing?”

“I figured you would want the bed.”

Biting your lip, you sighed, “We’re adults, we’ll just share the bed, it doesn’t matter anyways.’

Loki straightened up off the lounge, “Very well, I wasn’t looking forward to attempting to sleep on that anyways.” He crossed the room and sank into the bed, laying on his side to continue watching you. “I’d offer for you to sleep naked if you’re so uncomfortable wearing that...” Loki trailed off, smirking.

You glared at him, and searched the room for something to throw at him. Your eyes finally fell on one of the pillows and you threw it as hard as you could. Loki caught it easily and laughed, settling it behind his head as he continued to watch you.

“I’m going to change into this. At least those bastards gave me undergarments, honestly, at the rate they’re going, I’m surprised they didn’t just have me without them.”

Loki laughed as you left to the bathroom, situating himself more comfortably in the bed while he waited for your return.

You stood in the mirror, studying yourself for a long time and sighed. If you weren’t so tired, you could imagine just standing there all night so you wouldn’t have to face Loki looking like this.

Upon walking back into the room, you stopped, and posed for Loki, displaying the skimpy top. Loki blinked, stiffening on the bed as he studied you. You couldn’t tell if it was a trick of the lights or not, but his eyes seemed to dilate. Brushing it off as coincidence, you reached for the lightswitch and turned off the last of the lights. Stumbling slightly, you made your way to the bed, pulling back the covers and crawled under. The bed was heavenly, soft as a cloud and the silk sheets felt wonderful.

Loki shifted beside you in the bed, making sure there was plenty of space between you. After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat, “You look very nice, agent.” He murmured softly.

You blushed, thankful for the darkness, “Thanks Loki.”

You could hear him nod before rolling over. In the darkness, you could slowly make out the silhouette of his shoulder and see that his back was to you. Sighing inwardly, you thought of how close you were to him, how easily you could slide over and pull yourself against his back and just lay together. Of course, there would be no way of hiding your feelings if you did that, and risking such an open display of affection would surely blow your cover since Loki wouldn’t reciprocate it. For all his flirting, you were certain that he was merely teasing you, playing along with everything you attempted.

Sleep felt far away as you lay on your back, staring at the dark ceiling. You thought of Clara and Toran, how easy it must be for such a madly in love couple to get along. For you, it was merely one sided as you pined after the love of your life, the man beside you who was completely indifferent to your existence and at best tolerated you. You wanted to sigh heavily, but knew the noise would cause Loki to stir and possibly confront you.

Your eyes slowly drifted shut and you sank into sleep.

Sunlight streamed in through the window and you groaned, realizing you had forgotten to close the blinds. The next thing you were aware of was a strong arm wrapped around your torso, holding you close to a rather chilly body. The thick blankets were warm around you and actually made for a nice contrast against the coolness of the body though and you couldn’t help smile. Your smile slowly faded as you became more awake.

You cleared your throat, “Loki?”

Loki groaned weakly, face buried in your shoulder, “What?” He growled, eyes probably shut and not registering how the two of you lay.

“I can’t move.” His arm was laced tightly around you, holding you firmly in place, barely allowing you room to breathe. “Also, did you leave the remote on the bed last night? I don’t remember seeing it...” You trailed off, suddenly horrified as you blushed deeply.

Loki straightened up quickly, pushing away from you. He rolled over and growled angrily, hurrying into the bathroom. His hair, messy from rolling in the night, hung low over his face but you could see a faint tinge of red as he blushed furiously. 

Moment’s later, the sound of the shower faucet running filled the suite and you rolled over onto your back, fist in your mouth as you stifled your embarrassed laugh. Loki had woken up cuddling you, and he had been the one... you couldn’t even think it, let alone say it. Something told you it would be best to not speak of this. You rose stiffly from bed, searching through your bags for clothes to wear. By this point, you were half expecting to find condoms in the bag.

Loki took a fast shower and was out in the room shortly, swimtrunks on and assigned shirt in hand. His hair was still wet from the shower as he dried it vigorously with the towel. He eyed you coolly, silently daring you to say anything.

You shook your head stiffly, “It happens.” You finally managed.

“Just go get ready, but leave your shirt.”

“My what?”

Loki sighed, “I’ll explain when you’re done, you can cover yourself with your brassiere but trust me, this will be necessary.”

You raised your eyebrow uncertainly but slowly nodded, “Alright...” Your shower was slower than Loki’s, you were certain, but you were also apprehensive over why he hadn’t finished dressing either. On top of that, you wanted to make sure that if you were going to be forced to be nude on the beach, you looked appealing. Even if you weren’t actually on your honeymoon, you wanted to look like it.

SHIELD had replaced your more practical bra with a pretty lacy one and you were concerned over the amount of forethought that had clearly gone in to planning all your outfits. Sure it made sense, blending in with the level of class expected at this resort, but still, it was finer than you were comfortable with.

You dried your hair and put on a suitable amount of makeup (also supplied by SHIELD), laughing to yourself over who the unfortunate soul was that had to purchase it to match your complexion. You wore your bikini, a towel wrap in hand, ready to cover yourself for the tram ride as you walked out of the bathroom. “Alright, what’s this necessary thing of yours?”

Loki had been staring out of the window and turned to look at you upon entering. His gaze lingered on your body, clearly not used to seeing you so exposed as he inspected you.

“Well?”

Loki sighed, “Last night was our first night of marriage, technically.”

“And?”

Loki tilted his head, looking at you pointedly, “We consummated our marriage, didn’t we?”

“I mean yea, I guess so.”

“Get on the bed.” Loki ordered and you felt a quiver of unbidden excitement rush through you.

Instantly you were suspicious though, not sure you trusted where this was going. “What do you mean?” However, you found your legs obeying him, slowly carrying you to the bed and sitting down.

Loki walked over facing you, watching you for signs of distrust and slowly took your shoulders, pushing you back so he could straddle your hips. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him, his face mere inches from yours. “Agent, we’re both showing more skin today than yesterday, you’re going to have to look the part.”

“What- oh...” you trailed off, eyes shut as you prayed silently for patience.

“I’ll do you first, then you can do me.”

You swallowed hard, nodding weakly at the expression. Keeping your eyes shut, you leaned back on the bed and allowed Loki to maneuver you as he saw fit. You could feel the bed sink down on either side of you as he rested his knees there, looming over you. His hands gripped your hips roughly and you squeaked as he squeezed them. Loki was careful, delicately so, because you didn’t doubt his Asgardian strength allowing him to snap your bones. At the same time, he went to work on your throat, biting down and sucking, applying the faintest pressure before laving his tongue there and cooling the bruise. You bit your lower lip, struggling against your body’s desire to squirm under him, desperately choking back a moan. At long last, Loki pulled his hands from your hips, sliding his nails up your back and raking the expanse of them. You couldn’t stop the hiss as it escaped your mouth, eyes finally opening as Loki watched you with heavily lidded eyes.

“There.” He grunted, slowly straightening up and pulling away. Loki’s chest was flush and you could see him breathing hard. “Your turn.”

Loki pulled you to your feet, taking your place on the bed and sat still, watching you to see what you would do. You turned to inspect yourself in the mirror, still breathing hard and trying to calm yourself. Your back stung, the work of his nails digging across your flesh and you knew they would still be bright red by the time you finally got to the beach. Your hips ached and you could see the redness slowly fading to be replaced by soft bruises in the shape of Loki’s hands. If this had been real... you thought to yourself sadly, noting the possessiveness of Loki’s markings, how they showed anyone who saw you who you belonged to. Once more, you were forced to bite back your forlorn smile and heavy sigh. There would definitely need to be a rebound relationship to get over this fake one as soon as you got back, and at least a month’s reprieve.

“Agent?” Loki called from the bed.

“Yea, yea, coming sorry, just seeing what you did to me.” You straightened up and walked over to him, unable to completely keep the swing from your hips as you moved.

Loki chuckled, “I tried to be gentle, I didn’t want to hurt you.”

You forced the curiosity over wondering just what he could do if he really went all out on someone, how badly you wanted to know. “Alright.” You managed, walking over and straddling his hips. The intimacy of the position threatened to send a shiver down your back but you fought back the urge. “Ready?” You took your hands and gripped his back, gently sliding your nails down his back.

Loki blinked down at you unimpressed, “Darling, you’re going to have to do more than that if you intend to mark a god.”

You scowled, “well I don’t want to hurt you.”

Loki rolled his eyes and you watched in fascination as a golden glow ran down his skin. A myriad of scars appeared, some deeper and more vicious than others but he had clearly known pain, much of it looked recent. “Believe me, you won’t do any lasting damage, certainly nothing I’m unused to.”

“Loki...” You trailed off, hand reaching out and gliding along a particularly deep gash along his chest.

Loki chuckled and moved your hand, guiding it back to his back. Once more the illusion returned and his skin was pale and unmarred as ever. “As I said, you’ll be fine.”

Tears pricked in your eyes, “That’s torture. Like, you’ve been tortured.”

Rolling his eyes again, Loki sighed, “Yes, I’ve been through actual mortal hell, a few marks from your nails won’t affect me.”

You tugged him forward, hugging him as tightly as you could, burying your face in his chest. “Thank you for sharing that with me, I can’t imagine.”

Loki’s first instinct was to pull you away, annoyed by the display, but you felt so soft and gentle pressed against him, your skin delicately brushing against his... “Agent, we have to meet that couple sooner than later.”

You straightened up, trying to get his intoxicating aroma out of your head and clear your thinking. “Right, right, I can do this.” Gritting your teeth, you reached behind him and dug your nails as hard as you could into his back, slowly tugging them down and raking at the flesh. Loki grunted, his body stiffening as you moved.

Pleased with this work, you leaned towards his collar bone and bit down as hard as you could, tongue swirling around to ease the discomfort he would feel and sucking lightly to leave a bruise. At long last, you pulled away, wiping your hand across your mouth. “How’s that?”

Loki stood up, lifting you with him and setting you down on the ground in front of him. “Marvelous, shall we go to the beach?”

Nude beach, right, that was sure to be easily handled.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

At the Crossroads

More of mine and @minky-for-short‘s Supernatural AU! More angst! More Alex fucking up with good intentions! 

Explaining why there’s such a history between the Hamilton family of hunters and the Burrs, demons of the crossroads 

Alex spent a few moments he didn’t really have looking at the photograph in his hands.

Finding the ingredients he needed hadn’t been hard, they hadn’t cleaned out the car since they’d cut and run and a thousand different vials and mason jars were still rolling around in the trunk. The photograph, he got from Eliza’s wallet. That had been the hard part, walking away and taking her coat from where it had just been discarded on the hospital room floor, rifling through the pockets in a way that had felt indecent.

A little like grave robbing.

The photo was of him, of course, it had to be for this to work. But it was one of him that he’d almost forgotten about, faded and rumpled from being carried around.

Eliza had taken it what felt like decades ago, a time of happiness and safety that Alex couldn’t even remember right now. He couldn’t remember ever feeling anything but bone shaking panic and fear. This younger version of himself was grinning crookedly, coyly, trying to duck away from the camera but Eliza had been insistent, declaring that he just looked too cute not to photograph, that she wanted to preserve this moment for the rest of eternity. Alex had snorted and blushed and rolled his eyes, wondering aloud why she really thought the sight of him with shower wet hair needed to be recorded for posterity. But then Eliza had simply pressed this younger, happier version of himself against the bed and kissed him, smothering his protests and complaints with her mouth on his, silencing everything in his brain apart from the one thought of how much he loved this woman.

And Eliza had kept it. She’d taken that photo, that careless, silly moment between the two of them, and she kept it by her all the time like a talisman. Like he was something precious.

Alex didn’t realise he was crying until he realised the tears were dripping from his nose onto the photograph. He cleaned it off quickly with his sleeve, there couldn’t be any imperfections or smudges, this was delicate spell work. Then he dried his own eyes just as hurriedly, swallowing back the building storm in his chest. He couldn’t afford to feel that right now. If he backed out now, if he hesitated for a moment, then that would be it. It would be the end of both of them.

This was his last chance to save his Eliza.

 A crossroads hadn’t been hard to find, there was one so close Alex could still see the hospital building peering above the tree line as he stood at the epicentre of it. The dusk was gathering around him, the air was becoming heavy and there was just an inescapable sense of running out of time, of something draining away.

There was still blood on his hands, Alex couldn’t help noticing, as he buried the box. There had been blood on his hands many times before, more times than he really wanted to admit, so it wasn’t the sight itself that turned his stomach but knowing where the blood came from. His Eliza’s blood. The dark, rusty stains that dappled his sleeves were a reminder that all of this was real and he wasn’t just living some insane nightmare. And with that sickening reminder came a tide of other memories he just couldn’t face right now.

He shook his head to send the panic flying somewhere else and tried to focus on the task at hand, scraping the dark soil over the old tin containing the spell ingredients and standing back, feeling lightheaded. He stood and waited, shivering a little in his thin t shirt and jeans as night crept up and the temperature dropped, trying to focus on the small details around him so the thick silence couldn’t punch a hole through his defences and expose him. If he squinted and tried to count the leaves on the trees, if he focused on the sickly colour of the wilding flowers by the roadside, if he centred in on the goose bumps of his own skin then he wouldn’t fall apart. His mind wouldn’t stray back to that hospital room. How small and empty Eliza had looked, how bloodless and limp, how their last kiss had tasted of rust…

No. He needed focus. He needed calm. He had a job to do.

There was no gradual slip into darkness, there was no gentle turn of a dimmer switch. Night fell on the quiet, underused roadside like a sheet, like a sudden wash.

And he came with it.

 “Well, I have to admit, I’m a little surprised…”

The voice was smooth, honeyed, like each note in it was carefully chosen and honed for a specific purpose. It came from behind, Alex span, more rattled than he wanted to admit even though he’d known what was coming.

The demon that called itself Burr was standing in the middle of the road. He didn’t look surprised at being summoned, despite what he said, he looked like he was here at this barren crossroads for no reason other than because he planned it, simply straitening his shirt cuffs. At first glance, he looked like nothing other than a business man, dressed impeccably in a dark suit that looked simple but obviously held a subtle extravagance. Tall, thin, bald, a look of complete disinterest on his smooth, dark face. Unassuming, a man who would rather shake your hand and be done with it, who had probably never raised his voice in his life.

But Alex knew better. And sure enough, as Burr raised his eyes to gaze at him, there was a flash of red in their depths.

Alex knew he was talking to the king of the crossroads.

“You know me. I know you,” Alex stated the obvious, not trusting himself with anything but short, simple facts and even then, his voice cracked and splintered.

“Oh, of course I know who you are, Alexander,” Burr replied smoothly, studying the dishevelled man in front of him, a man clearly grief stricken and clinging to the edge but trying to hide it, “Even if we’ve never had the pleasure of meeting up until now, how could I not know of the infamous hunting duo of Alexander and Elizabeth Hamilton? Every day down there I hear a thousand curses against your names. You both seem to have something against my kind, given how many you’ve personally cast back into the pit.”

Burr started taking lazy, casual steps to close the gap between them. Alex reacted immediately, his body shifting and locking defensively, a hand flying to the silver knife at his belt. Another remnant of their old life found in the trunk of his car. Burr merely raised an amused eyebrow and held up his palms in a placating gesture, his voice ever so subtly mocking, “Now, now Alexander. You summoned me, remember? I’m hardly going to attack you out of the blue, not when I’m pins and needles to hear why exactly you of all people came knocking on my door.”

Alex didn’t relax in the slightest and his hand didn’t slip from the handle of the knife. He narrowed his eyes at Burr; even after good few months out of the game his mind began automatically picking out points of attack and defence. As if it would make a difference, should it come to blows between one of the strongest demons in all the kingdoms of hell and an exhausted, broken ex-hunter. As if Alex really cared about his own safety anymore.

“You see,” Burr continued casually, “For years, you and wife make such nuisances out of yourselves only to suddenly disappear one day? With not a whisper nor a rumour of where you’ve got to; I must confess, we were all a little worried about you. Much wailing and gnashing of teeth and all that, fear that you’d quit or managed to find yourselves an easy, painless death when so many down there have much bigger and more elaborate plans…” The flash of red again, and the beginnings of a slick grin as he savoured the threat, “And now here you are, in the flesh, not six months later, dragging me up here to the middle of nowhere. Why would I kill you when there’s questions still to answer?”

Alex’s lip curled, the smug patter of the demon grating on his already raw nerves in an unbearable way. His voice was a growl, “I didn’t summon you for a fucking chat, Burr. I want to make a deal.”

There it was, simple and plain, his words echoing a little in the space. Even Burr couldn’t conceal the flash in his eyes, a sickly mix of excitement and shock and delight. But he covered it quickly under his smooth business man’s façade.

“So, what, no preamble? No baiting? The demons you’ve exorcised tell me you talk their ears off with curses and jabs and recommendations of things they can shove up their asses. I’m a little disappointed, have to say.”

Alex’s hackles rose, “Look, I am not in the mood for this shit, not in the slightest. So, if all you’ve got for me is a fucking cheap wisecrack, then I’ll go to someone else.”

Burr was quick to change his stance, of course he was. Alex knew what a deal with a Hamilton was worth to him. Easily as a door to door salesman sliding into another pitch, the demon took a step forward with another mollifying gesture. This time, Alex didn’t back away.

“Hey, it’s no skin off my back, none at all,” Burr drawled, appearing to relax while not actually relaxing at all, “I understand the, ah…time constraint you’re under. Because of course you could walk away, you could go and find another demon to make a pact with but it won’t keep your wife’s corpse any fresher, will it?”

Alex winced. His knees nearly buckled, as if Burr’s words had been a physical punch to his gut.

Because of course he knew. He’d known from the moment he saw Alex, standing at a crossroads just a stone’s throw from a hospital, covered in blood and looking stricken and desperate. Of course, there was only one explanation.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” Burr’s smile was all teeth, “Your lovely wife died and you want me to bring her back. For a small fee, of course, though by the state of you, I’d guess you’d be willing to give anything- “

“She’s not dead!” Alex’s voice was raw, almost a sob, almost a shout and his chest burned with shame as it wrenched from him. He slumped a little under the demon’s relishing gaze, almost pleading now, “Eliza isn’t dead…she’s not dead, I still have time…”

“Not a large amount, I daresay,” Burr corrected smugly, “Hence why I’m your last shot.”

“Fuck off,” Alex spat, his eyes flaring as he gathered himself a little, “Can you help me or not?”

Burr stood a little straighter, “That’s what I do, dear boy. A simple soul for soul trade, is it, ten years until collection, an almost Shakespearian act of love and devotion, bravo and all that, so noble…”

Alex swallowed painfully, cutting across the demon’s bluster before he lost the nerve, “It…it’s not just Eliza.”

Burr stopped, looking at the broken man in front of him with a curious expression, “Oh? People don’t usually haggle with me, what else could you possibly want? What’s worth as much to you as your soulmate, alive and well again?”

Alex had to choke up the next words, “My child. Our child.”

 It had all happened so fast. All Alex had had were scraps and scenes he couldn’t put together, like a movie he half remembered seeing rather than memories of his own life. Eliza screaming his name, pulling him away from unpacking that last box of books, she’d been asking him to do it for a week. Running to the bathroom and her standing there, ashen, bracing against the doorframe. A brief, dream like moment of joy- it was happening, it was time! -that only made it worse when the floor fell away and he realised that it wasn’t water soaking her jeans, it was blood.

The way she clung to his hand and whimpered in pain, murmuring his name over and over like she was begging him to fix this and make it better. But all he’d been able to do was hold her as her moans had become screams, as doctors and nurses around them traded cruel, metallic sounding words like haemorrhage and breech. He remembered how hollow and pathetic his words had sounded as he’d held her hand and promised that just one more, it’s going to be okay, just one more push, please Betsey, you can do this, you’re doing great. They’d sounded like lies, even to him.

He remembered the rush and the awful silence, thinking they’re supposed to cry. Aren’t they supposed to cry? Alex had got to hold him briefly, just enough time to think that his son was the single most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life before he was taken away. Calls for an incubator, the ICU, blood transfusions, last ditch scrabbling for hope.

And Eliza, her beautiful dark eyes bloodshot and hazy with agony, had pulled him close, kissed him weakly, murmured that she loved him and went limp in his arms.

And that had been it.

Yesterday Alex had had everything. Now he had nothing but this last, desperate hope.

 Burr didn’t even try to hide his mirth at the situation, after a moment of shock the demon actually chuckled, as if Alex had told him an amusing dinner party anecdote.

“Oh ho! I see!” Burr snickered, his dark eyes shining, “So that’s why you two went off the grid! Didn’t pay enough attention in high school sex ed, hmm? Found yourselves in a bit of a bind and had to cut and run before one of the many monsters you two have pissed off over the years heard that there was going to be a very small, very vulnerable, very appetising bundle of joy? Oh, I’m so sorry, if I’d known the good news I’d have brought cigars!”

“Shut up!” Alex screamed, he’d heard enough, “Shut the fuck up! Another word out of your mouth and I’ll fucking end you, I swear to god!”

His words were harsh, his hand at the knife hilt tightened until the knuckles went white but he couldn’t stop the tears escaping his aching eyes and running down his face. There was just nothing else to do.

Burr quietened his laughter but his eyes stayed amused, very much enjoying the state Alex had worked himself into, “Oh but surely you see the irony in all this, boy? Years and years of hunting, countless close calls and hail Marys and it’s a simple medical complication that’s going to bring down Eliza Hamilton, a piece of rotten luck, an accident…” The demon’s eyes suddenly turned solid black, his smile twisting into something purely malicious, “Well, I mean, some blame has to be laid at your feet, doesn’t it? If you hadn’t knocked the poor girl up, she wouldn’t be dying right now. And after all the times you saved her…all the times she saved you…”

Burr knew he was either about to see Alex break and swing for him or crumble. And he wasn’t disappointed as the fight drained out of the poor guy in an instant and he began to sob bitterly into his hands, the silver knife falling heavily into the dirt.

The demon gave a small sigh of satisfaction. It was always easier to make deals with people who had no fight left in them and it would have been so tedious to have to dirty his new suit ripping Alexander limb from limb, even for the bragging rights of dispatching a Hamilton. But now they could really get down to business. And Burr always preferred to gain a little something more than bragging rights.

 Alex realised he was crying quickly and choked off, disgusted and embarrassed with himself for losing control. He wiped his face on his arm, clawing back his composure and facing Burr with a flushed face and streaming eyes, “S-So can you help me? Can you save them, Eliza and the baby?”

Burr pursed his lips as if doing calculations in his head, “Well…there’s a bit of an imbalance in our equation, my boy. Dear Eliza and the little bundle of joy means two souls. You can only offer me one and a pretty poor specimen at that.”

Alex’s expression turned fearful, “I need them both. Both or you get nothing from me.”

The demon tilted his head, the moonlight didn’t reflect in his eyes at all, “Is that so…which would you pick, I wonder, if I really pushed you…who is worth more to you, your wife or your newborn?”

“Both. Or. None,” Alex ground through his teeth, forcing back the ache Burr’s words set in his bones, the things he didn’t want to think about.

Burr lifted his eyebrow for a long moment but eventually he let it drop with a sigh. What could he say, a Hamilton’s soul was a terrific prize. And…if he was being truly honest with himself…he pitied Alexander. He couldn’t help but look at the man and think of his own family, his Theodosias, what he would tear apart to keep them safe.

Not that he was going to admit that, of course.

“Fine, fine, you’ve twisted my arm,” he sighed, noting how Alex visibly relaxed in relief, “So the contract is thus. I save your wife and your baby, bring them both to full health like this whole sorry business never happened. And in ten years’ time, Alex, your soul belongs to me. And believe me when I say, I mean to get my money’s worth…do we have a deal?”

Alex knew he should be ashamed of himself, he should feel guilt and revulsion and horror at his own actions. But there was none in him, all he could feel was desperate, painful hope that his family was going to be okay. Ten years. Ten years to be a father and a husband, to build them a life they deserved, that felt like a lifetime. He’d hand himself over right now for ten more minutes with Eliza. Without her, his soul was worthless.

So many times, during Eliza’s pregnancy, he’d pressed his lips to the swell in her belly and promised himself that there was nothing he wasn’t prepared to do to keep his child safe. And god, he’d meant it.

There wasn’t any hesitation as he nodded and said, “We have a deal.”

 Burr nodded, suddenly all formal, hiding his joy well behind a mask that was all business, “All that’s left is to seal the contract then…”

Alex groaned softly, remembering how demon contracts were signed, but it would hardly be the worst thing he’d do today. He made it on his terms at least, closing the distance between himself and the demon with long strides until he was face to face with the king of the crossroads himself. They were of a height.

Alex leaned in and pressed his lips to Burr’s harshly, with no emotion but desperation. He felt the demon’s hand come up to hold the back of his head, deepening their kiss until some ethereal checkpoint was reached and Burr stepped back, looking bemused. Alex just pulled his lips back from his teeth in a snarl and spat into the dirt.

“A pleasure doing business with you too, Alexander,” Burr chuckled, a slight rumble and echo to his voice now as the image of him blurred, “And congratulations.”

With a snap, the demon was gone and Alex was left alone, trembling with adrenaline and the cold. His head swam, his body begged to just fold and collapse and give up. But there was one thought in his mind that made his eyes snap open and electricity jump through his body.

“Eliza…”

 Eliza jerked awake with a small, frightened gasp. There was panic at first, that was all she could feel, blind panic as her body ached and hurt in a million different places and she felt so unbalanced, why did her body feel wrong, where was she, why was it so dark, where was Alex, where was…

Her hands flew suddenly to her stomach, looking for the comforting weight she’d gotten used to but finding just an empty hollow. That was when she screamed, trying to sit up, calling for-

“Eliza!” Alex burst through the doors, staggering, nearly collapsing at her bedside, wrapping his arms around her tight as he ever had. “Alex?” Eliza’s voice sounded sore, like she hadn’t used it in a while. She clung to her husband, desperately, “Alex, what’s happening, where’s the baby, I can’t remember…”

She began to cry and Alex soothed her, even as he wept himself. He held her face gently between his hands and brushed her tears away as rivers ran down his own sunken cheeks.

“Betsey. Oh god, Betsey, thank god…it’s okay. Everything’s okay, you’re here, you’re okay, the baby’s okay…” it sounded like he was convincing himself as much as her.

“But what happened?” Eliza asked, still fretful, still getting the unshakeable sense that something was very wrong, “I remember…I remember the blood…”

“Shh,” Alex shook his head, running his hands over her, chasing her fear away as he did, “Never mind that now, you did it. You got him here Eliza, you did so well…”

Eliza’s heart shaped face froze suddenly at his words, awe and wonder flooding her eyes, “Him?”

Of course. Of course, it had happened so fast she hadn’t even had a chance to hold her baby, let alone find out the gender. And to be honest, Alex had been shoving it to the back of his mind, it had been easier to distance himself. But now he was here. He was here and his beautiful Eliza was here and their baby was here and nothing was going to take them away ever again.

It was one of the best moments of Alex’s whole life as he got to smile at Eliza, stroke her hair and sigh, “We have a son, Eliza. We’ve got a little baby boy. Philip Hamilton.”

Those words had replaced every scrap of fear in Eliza’s heart, washing her anxiety away with floods of joyful tears. She cried even harder when their little baby was brought through and she got to hold him for the first time and the two parents could sit together and just marvel at the unbelievably beautiful little thing they’d made. For hours, they forgot their exhaustion and lost themselves in saying hello to the baby they’d both sacrificed so much to meet. But they couldn’t deny it forever and once Philip was fed and happy and suitably fussed over, both new parents could think about getting some sleep themselves.

“Doesn’t have my nose,” Alex chuckled eventually, as he bent over their sleeping son after setting him down reluctantly in the bassinet by Eliza’s bed, “Our prayers are answered.”

Eliza laughed too as she gingerly lay down, trying to avoid all her aches and hurts, “Look at his eyes, though. That’s all you. Oh, they’re beautiful…”

“He’s beautiful,” Alex sighed, finally managing to tear himself away from Philip to lay with Eliza on the bed, their desire to cling to each other meaning the single bed worked perfectly fine for the both of them.

There was a lot more kisses and cuddles and happy sighs before Eliza eventually drifted off in the arms of her husband, “I love you, Alex…”

Alex held her close, feeling the grim realisation of what he’d done settle in now his wife and baby were asleep. Now in the dark hospital room, he could hear the wind and see the shadows cast across the floor, like they were reaching for him.

Ten years. It was a lifetime. It was more than he deserved.

No. They weren’t going to reach him here, he wasn’t going to let these thoughts ruin this moment. Not here, not now. He closed his eyes tight…but of course the shadows would still be there when he opened them.

“I love you too, Eliza,” Alex mumbled into her hair, “I love you so much….and I’m so sorry.”

[zell-dincht]

Need You Tonight

Chapter 3 Warnings: No explicit content, but references adult themes; A/B/O dynamics, but NO male pregnancy, or any pregnancy Note: This may be chapter 3/3, but this isn’t the last of omegaverse! I made a series on AO3, since I don’t have a linear story in mind, but I do intend to do other oneshots and snippets in this universe too (Here’s the AO3 link)

———

After days of intense, heat-charged sex, Ignis awoke one morning with Gladio pressed close to him, arm draped around his middle. As Ignis began to stir and slip to the edge of the bed, the alpha automatically tugged him back and leaned in to kiss on Ignis’ neck.

“Need something?” Gladio muttered softly.

“Yes. A shower,” Ignis groaned and shoved the other man away.

But somehow, Gladio kept watching him with those sultry bedroom eyes. “Want me to join you again?”

“No, thank you,” Ignis sighed. “You needn’t trouble yourself any longer.”

It was a kind gesture for Gladio to still offer help, even if the heat was over, but Ignis couldn’t allow himself to forget that this was just one friend helping another through an inconvenience, and nothing more. There was still a vague, lingering instinct to remain in bed with the alpha, but for the most part, the hormones had died down enough that he could exercise better self control and common sense to push any emotions to the back of his mind.

The warm water felt so good as it coursed over Ignis’ body. By now, he had plenty of sore muscles from all the rough, physical exertion the past few days. He was glad to finally be able to relax and actually enjoy the shower alone, without the other man’s massive form taking up so much space.

But still, as Ignis scrubbed himself with soap, his mind wandered and he couldn’t help but think about how well Gladio had taken care of him, making sure he was fed and stayed fairly clean. Ignis remembered how they showered together, Gladio’s strong hands rubbing the mess away, and the way he made Ignis feel so good with just his tongue…

The omega could feel his blood begin rushing to his groin at the memory. Though, he chose to simply ignore it and turned the faucet a little bit colder until he finished his shower.

Once Ignis was finally done, he dried himself off and wrapped a towel around his waist as he returned to the bedroom. Gladio was missing, as expected, but the lack of sheets on his bed was a surprise. The soft churning of the washing machine from the next room over confirmed that Gladio must have thrown them in the wash. Again, Ignis didn’t understand why the alpha continued to show that extra consideration, but he did appreciate the gesture.

He quickly dressed himself and left the bedroom to find that the alpha hadn’t actually left at all. Gladio was still there, in Ignis’ kitchen, leaning against the counter and dressed in nothing but his boxers.

Ignis pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh and averted his gaze. “Where are your clothes?”

“In the wash. Figured I’d throw your sheets in too.” The coffee maker gave a little beep, and Gladio turned away to pour a couple mugs.

Since this did happen so suddenly, Gladio had just the one set of clothes, so Ignis thought it was fair that he would want to wash them. Without arguing further, he simply grabbed his coffee and sat down at the small dining table.

“I was short with you this morning. I apologize,” Ignis cooly spoke after taking a sip of his drink.

“Don’t sweat it.” Gladio casually waved a hand as he drank from his own cup, still leaning against the counter.

“Nonetheless, I ought to thank you for all you’ve done.”

“It was my pleasure. Literally,” Gladio replied with a sly grin. “But seriously, I don’t know how you’ve been getting through those heats all by yourself, without an alpha.”

Ignis returned the sly grin as he glanced over his mug at Gladio. “Who said there’s never been another alpha?”

The look on the swordsman’s face was priceless. A deep wrinkle set in between Gladio’s eyes and his eyes widened in a mix of surprise and jealousy. Typical alpha mentality - already possessive over an omega after just one heat. It was amusing, at least for now. Ignis knew he had to be careful that it wouldn’t grow into something more serious.

“Well, whoever it was, I don’t see him around now,” Gladio pointed out. He set down his mug and rested a hand on the table, leaning over Ignis. “I’m here, and happy to help when that next heat hits you again.”

Ignis rolled his eyes and brushed off the suggestion as more typical alpha behavior. All they ever seemed to care about was finding a heat-crazed omega for a few days of fun. He almost said it aloud, but Gladio cut in again.

“Or maybe,” the alpha leaned in closer, lowering his voice to mutter in Ignis’ ear, “we don’t have to wait for the next heat.”

The omega responded with a light shove. “What are you implying?”

Gladio stood upright, but remained close. “Implying? Nothing. I’m straight-up telling you this doesn’t have to be exclusive to your heat.”

“That’s quite an assumption that I’ll even agree to this my next heat, let alone suggest this could be a regular thing,” Ignis spoke in a stern voice as he shot the other man a stern glare.

Observant as Ignis usually could be, he somehow managed to be a bit oblivious when it came to romance. Gladio seemed to blatantly show interest in the omega, yet Ignis brushed it off as lingering after-effects of the heat. A man like Gladio showing genuine interest in him just seemed too good to be true, so Ignis chose not to believe it.

Gladio looked over Ignis with a look of confusion. “I just thought we–” He paused, slightly taken aback as if he wasn’t used to rejection. “You had a good time, didn’t you?”

“It was a heat, Gladio,” Ignis sighed. “None of this was real. It was all pheromones and instinct.”

The alpha took a step back, as though Ignis’ words dealt a physical blow. But the omega couldn’t entirely resist the disappointment in his eyes, so he decided to give Gladio a bit of placation. “Give it a few days, make sure the effects from the heat have totally worn off, and then we can have a discussion if you still feel the same way.”

Gladio gave a confident nod. “If that’s what it takes.”

There seemed to be a slight tension in the air after that conversation. Ignis cooked them a proper breakfast and Gladio threw his clothes in the dryer. They tried their best to continue conversation as usual, discussing various books Gladio noticed on Ignis’ shelf, or talking about the Prince’s development, but both men were still noticeably distracted. Thankfully, Gladio’s clothes didn’t take very long to dry, and the alpha left with a simple, casual goodbye.

It seemed so anticlimactic after the past few days, but Ignis knew it was all for the best. Life could continue as normal for now, and for the most part, it did. His path didn’t cross much with Gladio, but when it did, they simply acknowledged one another with a casual nod, then continued about their own business.

But just when Ignis began to feel settled that there would be no complications after his heat, he returned to his apartment one evening to find a bouquet of flowers waiting at his door. Flustered that his neighbors might see, he quickly scooped up the bouquet and hurried inside.

A quick examination easily revealed a note attached to the flowers:

”Guess it’s time for that conversation.” –G

Feeling the heat rise to his face, Ignis quickly slipped his phone out of his pocket and immediately dialed the alpha.

“About time,” Gladio answered on the other line. Ignis could hear that self-satisfied grin in the alpha’s voice.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ignis snapped. “I thought I had made myself clear.”

“Uh, yeah?” Gladio agreed in a bewildered tone. “You said give it a few days, and here we are.”

“Gladio…” Ignis took a deep breath to collect himself before he continued, “Whatever this is, you don’t need to feel responsible for me, nor do you owe me anything. This doesn’t have to be complicated.”

“Is that what you think? That I see you as some kind of obligation?” The swordsman’s voice took on a more annoyed tone.

“Do not forget your first responsibility is to Noctis, as is mine,” Ignis continued. “I won’t allow either of us to become distracted from our royal duties.”

“First, you said it was just because of the heat, now you’re saying it’s too much of a distraction,” Gladio grumbled. “You and I both know those are bullshit excuses.”

“Nonetheless, that is how I feel. It’s best for both of us if we continue business as usual and forget this ever happened.”

“Unbelievable,” Gladio’s voice growled, followed by the sound of the call ending.

Ignis only felt slightly guilty for upsetting Gladio, but he had convinced himself that this really was for the best. He knew better than to get his hopes up, so there would be less trouble if he just ended this before it even began. It was difficult, but Gladio hanging up so suddenly was a good sign that perhaps he realized it was time to give up.

A few minutes after the call, however, an urgent knocking at Ignis’ door pulled him away from the report he had begun to look over. He cautiously opened the door, unsure what could warrant such eager knocking, but as soon as he peeked through the crack, Gladio burst inside.

Ignis might have even fallen over, but the alpha immediately hooked an arm around his waist. Gladio’s free hand cupped the younger man’s cheek as he hungrily pressed their lips together in an eager kiss. The omega nearly melted in his arms, but Ignis quickly snapped to his senses. He gave the other man a rough shove and broke free from his grasp with an angry glare.

“Gladiolus Amicitia!” he hissed. “What is the meaning of this?”

The swordsman looked at him with his usual cocky grin. “I’m not good at taking ‘no’ for an answer.”

Ignis scoffed. “I’m certain there are plenty other men and women who would welcome your attentions.”

“You don’t remember, do you?” The confused look on Ignis’ face was enough of an answer for Gladio as he continued, “Right when your heat really kicked in, you said you’ve wanted me for a long time. Here I am, and you’re kicking me to the curb.”

Ignis folded his arms and glanced to the side with a huff.

“You said it could never work ‘cause I need to continue the family line,” Gladio reminded him. “To hell with that, and every other bullshit excuse you’ve given. Guess you also forgot the part where I said I’ve had my eye on you for a while too. This isn’t ‘cause of the heat, and I don’t see you as an obligation, or distraction, or anything else you wanna throw at me. Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not interested. I’m not accepting anything else.”

Ignis did look him in the eyes. He took a deep breath, but just couldn’t bring himself to say those words. After all he had done to convince himself that this was the right thing to do, it was so much more difficult to resist the alpha when he stood right there in front of Ignis, looking so intently at him with those golden eyes.

Seeing Ignis’ hesitation, Gladio felt even more encouraged to urge him further, “Yeah, those few days together were great, but it was just carnal instinct. I don’t want to just be there for your heat. I want something real.”

As Ignis listened, his eyes widened in disbelief. He almost felt as though he needed to pinch himself, just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. “I don’t understand. You could have anyone you want.”

“Apparently not.” The swordsman folded his arms in annoyance. “There’s only one person I want, and he keeps shooting me down.”

Ignis could feel his resolve steadily crumbling away. Gladio’s persistence and earnest entreaties had proven impossible to resist. The omega’s face softened to a gentle smile as he replied, “You don’t seem the type to give up so easily. Perhaps you should ask once more.”

Gladio’s eyes lit up at the suggestion. “Ignis,” he grinned, “how’s dinner sound? Tomorrow night?”

“Dinner would be lovely,” the omega finally conceded.

As Gladio gave a relieved sigh, Ignis moved close once again and planted a gentle kiss to the older man’s lips. Before Gladio could take things any further, Ignis backed away with a finger pressed to the other man’s lips.

“Enough for today,” Ignis explained as he pulled his hand away. “I must finish preparing a report for Noctis.”

“You spoil him too much,” Gladio chastised, but couldn’t wipe the grin off his face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Ignis concluded as he ushered his guest to the door.

Gladio seemed satisfied enough to leave without any further complaints. Although Ignis did have a report to finish reading, he found that he had trouble focusing after that conversation. He felt giddy as a schoolboy, but even when he actually was a schoolboy, Ignis never really felt this way about anyone before.

Aside from his heat, he realized he never really had much physical affection from anyone, either. Sex during his heat was a relief, of course, but that simple kiss from Gladio a moment ago felt more than just physically comforting. It was a sort of touch that Ignis had no idea he had been missing, and now that he had a taste, he craved being closer to the other man, but it was a completely different craving than what he felt during a heat. It was difficult for him to describe, but there was an odd feeling in his chest that ached, yet felt so good at the same time.

After a while, the screen on Ignis’ phone lit up as he received a text. A wide grin spread over his face when he saw it was from Gladio.

”Is 1900 good for tomorrow?”

The way Gladio used military time out of habit was such a simple thing, yet Ignis found it oddly endearing. He sent an agreeable reply and finally set the report aside, deciding to finally give up and get ready for bed.

As apprehensive as Ignis had felt going into this situation, he had suddenly become filled with warm thoughts and excitement for the following evening. If this relationship felt so good already, then maybe it was worth giving it a try, after all.

[houseofardent]

I am now in the authentic religious area of india, Rishikesh. The city which recognises and proudly honours the beatles and flows with authentic spices and tradition. Rishikesh is not only one of the most traditional and holy places of India it is also the home city of Yoga.

Surrounded by the Ganges mountains and clay mud beaches it is definitely an authentic experience. Cows roam freely around the streets and stop the traffic to a stand still on the already overpacked streets. The area is bursting with colour from traditional dress and anyone with white skin is stopped by locals wanting pictures of our clear skin, the locals are better paparazzi than those from my usual world of media, they just snap away without permission, it is actually hard to walk to a destination without feeling overwhelmed by cameras pointed at you, this is the same for male and females.

My initial experience of India was Delhi for three days which blew my mind in many ways, the amount of people, tuk tuks, cows and the sight of mountains of litter piled everywhere. I can safely say Delhi is one of the  worst Cities I have visited, and I have travelled to many countries. Is it safe for a single women?  definitely not in my opinion, there is around 100 men to every women it is very intimidating and hard work to get around. I was fortunate only to suffer three nights in Delhi which was made easier by two German female backpackers taking me under their wing until I left.

My next stop is Rishikesh where I am right now, as mentioned before it is the home of Yoga and the main reason I came here. You see I wanted a change, a challenge, a rest of my mind and to add complimentary therapies to my counselling and media work, I signed up not really knowing what I had let myself in for..

Day 1

My home for 28 days is called AlakhYog and set in the countryside of Rishikesh away from the beeping of horns and freely roaming cows which are everywhere. My initial arrival was one of shock as I was expecting a luxury retreat with swimming pool, air conditioning, cleaners and all the added extras I thought I would get for the $1200 that I paid, unfortunately I was in for a shock…The entrance has barbed wire on top the walls accompanied solid iron black gates as the entrance, I seriously thought I had been dropped off in the wrong place.

I entered the accommodation, which actually looked Ok except for the wooden roof which had gaps letting in bugs from all angles (I am terrified of bugs). I am taken to the office and handed bed sheets, given some books and shown my room like enrolling in a prison wing. The bedroom is fine and I have been paired up with a young South African Girl named Jade who is very welcoming. I am informed the chef is preparing me some food, I never had the heart to tell them I had managed a large portion of chicken curry at New Delhi airport knowing it was going to be my last meat meal for a month.

After dinner I am to take my first class, mediation. The group of 20 women gather in the temple dome to await the master yogi. The class was something I had not expected, I seriously still think the Yogi was stoned… the only words I heard were Yoga-(long pause) is not a sport… literally he was just looking at us smiling and laughing, I thought I have signed up  to the funny farm. The evening food was delicious, authentic vegetarian yogic food-this surprised me as one think I was dreading was giving up my normal food for the month. Bedtime came around and entering my room put me into shock as there is bugs everywhere and I mean creepy beetle looking things-I ran out thinking no way am I sleeping in there fortunately I have bug spray and attack them like world war three.  I had a great nights sleep and woke to my alarm at 5.30 am.

Day 2

Early morning nasal cleaning (see pictures) and sun worshipping along with making bird noises, yes I thought I was being held in a cult, a funny farm cult. I manged poring of water through my nostrils, however I was not prepared to make noises to sound like a bird.. It just all seemed so sureal. The day consists of meditation (I feel asleep in class), Pranyama, Mantra, Chanting, three Astana yoga sessions and meditation. (see time-table attached), trust me the day is exhausting even for me as a regular women of exercise. The day went so fast and bedtime quickly came around and I needed my bed. Starting a day with no morning coffee is bloody hard work. I also realised I had been bitten to death during the day and even taking three cold showers in the 40 degree humid heat did not ease the itchiness. In fact it made it worse , I decided to spray the room and start world war four on the bugs which led to a bit of a fall out with my room-mate. You see she is a spiritual person and believes it’s a bugs right to sleep in my room and most likely my bed..I dont.

Day 3

I wake up to go outside my room to find my roommate sleeping in the corridor after the previous nights fallout over bugs and spray, her choice not mine. Not only this a storm had passed through the night creating a wind-swept forest in the building, I was the only one who had slept through it which was a relief, obviously we all had to clean it up before classes begun, you see we had been told that all cleaning was our responsibility and this included the communal areas…yes I am in prison. It suddenly dawned on me the storm had blown all my cloths off the washing line after I had washed them all by hand, we don’t have the luxury of washing machines. So no morning coffee, no cigarettes, no breakfast, ruined cloths and I still have to attend the group to make bird noises made a bad start to my day.  I manged to stay awake during meditation this time even though my muscles are aching after such intense classes and believe me when I say its harsh.

The end of the day my roommate started moving into another room with some younger girls, trust me I never told her too she had chosen to leave because of the insect repellent, to be honest who was I to argue about getting my own room.

Day 5

I am having a nervous breakdown, detox is hurting me and I desperately need a coffee and a cigarette. My body is sore and they have chucked in a class called Karma Yoga which is based on us picking crap up from the grounds which quite frankly I feel is their responsibility. I am loosing my rag, I’m tired, pissed off and feeling out of my depth. The group is starting to separate into groups which is great as 20 women stuck in a prison together is like a jail sentence. fortunately there is another 40 something British female called Sue who I have made friends with, I now feel I can relate to someone.

The same timetable today as usual and to be honest I am wondering if I can stick this out, I really feel overwhelmed being locked up and unable to escape. I think the people having bets on how long I will last could be the winners. I refuse to do meditation tonight as last time I did I was bitten by horny mosquitos wanting to ravish on my body. To top it all after a hard days timetable and being told to complete my Karma Yoga of cleaning yoga mats I am nearly ready to quit, right now is not good for me or anyone, fortunately for me and everyone else I am saved by a wild monkey coming through the grounds which took the attention form mat cleaning. I needed to sleep and soon.

Day 6

Same timetable as usual and if I am tired then the beginners in the class must be wrecked, literally everyone is so exhausted. The girls asked my opinion on what to do and suddenly I find myself the spokeswomen of the group and take on the responsibility of talking to the managers of the retreat. I tell them the girls are exhausted and after six days continuous working out incuding theory consisting of human anatomy, nutrition, mantra, chanting, prayers and karma yoga the girls needed a day off. I explained the science of too much exercise on the body, I ask them to take on board the situation before anyone becomes injured, to my surprised they took it on board.

The morning consisted as usual of the asana yoga, anatomy, mantra etc, only half the class fell asleep to exhausted to push themselves, I felt sorry for them and sorry for myself as I am hurting bad. Lunchtime came and everyone is drained emotionaly and physically when a group chat is held with  the teacher who informs us we can have a day off mid next week… I thought they were crazy. One girl had already quit after three days in camp and if they were not careful they were about to lose more. Afternoon classes started as normal when to our surprise the main Yogi comes in to inform us the day was to end after this class and we were to have the afternoon and the next day as our time off! I could see such relief in people’s eyes, some even shed a tear. The weight of more intense training had been lifted off them. Have no doubt how hard it is physically and mostly mentally to go through this kind of detox and training, its overwhelming, exhausting and challenging.

The afternoon I slept for three hours before getting up and feeling alive, I dyed my roots (a must) gave myself a facial and for the first time in three weeks felt normal. I had been trekking in Japan for 10 days before India and had not blow dried my hair in all the time I have been away. I am also not used to living this lifestyle, no washing machine, no television, no radio, hardly any wi-fi and having to live with so many people in a cult like centre. It is overwhelming and exhausting. This afternoon was a blessing.

Day 7

I feel like a new women, still no lie in as my body is now set to waking up at 5.30 am but who gives a shit as today is mine and everones day off, our day out the prison and out into the heart of Rishikesh to see local people, local food, tradition, colour, internet and freedom. The whole group is so happy and excited it’s as if we are all young children going on a school trip. Once thing I can say is we deserve it as we have another 3 weeks to go yet.

Have I settled into the place, absolutely and I have even accepted Karma Yoga and singing like a bird! I finally realise I can just be myself and feel like a kid at certain times and be exhausted at others. Could get used to this life? No way but I can tell you now I will see it through to the end and appreciate every luxury I have in my life with a bit more respect.

To my wonderful friends who have placed bets on me you will not win I can assure you so get ready to pay up on my return.

My follow up will be in a weeks rime…if i survive.

xx

Love from India

The Yoga prison! I am now in the authentic religious area of india, Rishikesh. The city which recognises and proudly honours the beatles and flows with authentic spices and tradition.